#*cracks open a cold seltzer*
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sunspent
summary: you're relaxed and calm in the obx summer heat, and rafe simply cannot have that.
notes: filthy filthy filthy! sorry not sorry bout it. also minor obx 3 spoilers; ie his parents are on that damn island and its just him in their big ole house. semi public sex kink and def a choking kink beware or be scared! i truly cannot write anything without that damn hand around reader's throat.. that's my b. enjoy! also thank you so much for all the love on my fics and the followers... so excited for all i will write in the future and so incredibly full of love from you guys <3
tags: rafe cameron x fem!reader
word count: 2542
The whole day had been perfect.
You woke up around 9:30, brushed your teeth, and went downstairs to have some oatmeal. By 10:30 you were in a bikini and setting out a towel on the back deck.
The sun was fairly hot, but the early warnings of a storm gave a cooler breeze. Your towel was in the perfect spot between the shade where you could get full sun coverage without moving too much.
Gentle music was playing from your speaker, something that sounded like what your mom listened to in highschool, and a couple vodka seltzers laid unopened in a small cooler for you to enjoy later. You were also halfway through a mystery book, and between the pages of every chapter you let the time drift away from you.
The most relaxing part of the start of your day? Rafe had left the house around 9 and had yet to return by the time you cracked open your seltzer at 1 o’clock. No ranting, no typical Rafe-isms— just sunshine and Paula Abdul. You wished he was able to do this with you.
It was so relaxing that you drifted off to sleep a little more than halfway through your drink, head resting on your folded arms.
“Y/N.” Something rigid and distinctly shoe-like nudges your arm. “Baby.”
You just groan and turn over onto your back, arms following to protect your eyes from the sunlight.
“Hi,” you croak, squinting, and peer up at him. He looks like the Statue of Liberty in this light— if the statue of liberty wore light wash jeans and slutty little beer brand t-shirts. (So on brand for him.)
“How long have you been out here?” He asks, bending to pick up what’s left of your seltzer for one final swig.
“Since like 10:45.” Your face breaks in a yawn and your arms fall to the deck as your eyes get used to the light. A smile creeps onto your face. “What’ve you been doing?” You sit up on your hands, scanning his body. He looks kinda sweaty.
“Um,” he starts, scratching at his forehead with a sigh. “Buncha shit. Went into a couple places to close Ward’s accounts with them—oh, I saw your mom at Cold Stone by the way.”
“Why were you at Cold Stone?” You grin, crossing your legs and pushing at his calf with your foot. He makes an innocent face, hands on his hips. He looks to the trees, playfully exasperated.
“Sometimes I need a milkshake, Y/N. What kind of question is that?” You snort. “Anyway— I think we should go out for dinner. It’s getting to be—shit, it’s almost 4.”
You’re silent, save for some puny, whiny noise you make at the mention of going out. You struggle to get up, a little wobbly on your feet, but Rafe catches you and hauls you up with a hand on your waist.
“What?” He brushes the wispy hairs out of your face. “You don’t want to go out?” He searches your face, blue eyes squinting down at you, and you just pout. In the most mature way a 20-something can when faced with leaving her very rich boyfriend’s very nice house who has asked her to stay with him graciously for the very near future while his parents are retired on some island in the middle of the ocean.
You curl a finger around the collar of his t-shirt, playing with it while you formulate an answer.
“Where would we go?” Is what you settle on, ever the people pleaser.
“I don’t know…” Rafe thinks, gaze drifting from you as he chews at his lip. You wind your arms around his shoulders, hands splayed across his wingspan. You pet the skin of his neck with your thumb, warm all over. You’re content just looking at him forever.
“What if I’m hungry now?” You ask, ever so innocently, and Rafe thinks you’re serious until he catches the look on your face.
“That right?” He grins, hand sliding down your back. He grabs at your ass and you squeak. “How hungry? Wait until after dinner?” He’s just teasing you honestly; it’s almost a hobby to see how desperate you get for him.
“Rafe.” You pinch his shoulder. “That’s not funny.”
He just hums noncommittally, and dips to press a kiss to your neck. You shift up onto your tiptoes, wanting to be closer, and he hikes one of your legs up onto his hip. You can’t help the noise you make.
“Rafe,” you breathe, grabbing at him. “We have to go inside.” He bows forward, dangling you towards the wood of the deck, and you just hold tighter onto his shoulders.
“Why?” He murmurs, lost in your taste, and presses a kiss to your mouth that makes you shiver. “I don’t see why we have to.” He falls into a kneel, bringing you with him, and you suck in a surprised gasp. “Nobody’s around.”
“Somebody could be, baby,” you say, chancing a look around, and huff out a sigh when he lays you onto your back. This man.
“I don’t care,” he says, shrugging his shoulders with not a care in the world before following you down.
This bikini might be his favorite. He likes anything that will leave as little to the imagination as possible, but this one is his favorite shade of blue. Almost matches his eyes.
Your warm skin feels like silk on him, and when you wriggle when he presses a hand to your inner thigh, his dick jumps.
“Relax, Y/N,” he breathes. You roll your eyes.
“How can I, Rafe? You’re so—aggravating.” You huff. He’s still wearing his shirt, too. You tug at the sleeves of it.
“Oh, yeah?” He cocks his head, lips pursed. You just nod, pulling again at the fabric of his shirt. “Why’re you so wet, then?” He fumbles with the buckle of his jeans and your eyes lock on it.
“I’m not.” You look back up at him, self-assured to a fault, and try to will the dampness between your legs away. He just stares down at you, unimpressed. “I-I’m not.” Your thighs close.
“That right?” He murmurs, and wrestles your legs open again with an arm. His fingertips brush the crotch of your bottoms and you jolt, breathing hard out your nose. He lifts your hips and pulls them clean off, tossing them to the side.
He’s silent then, gaze locked between your legs, and he carefully guides your legs back until you can grab them by the back of your thighs and keep them out of his way.
“Not wet, my ass,” he murmurs to himself. His thumb rubs at your clit, and your sigh of pleasure ends in an impatient whine. He spits. “This pussy—,” he starts, but can’t finish.
He just bows and gets his mouth on you like he’s been thinking about since he left the house. Your head slams back against the deck almost immediately.
His large palm flattens to the back of your thigh and pushes your leg even further. The muscle strains but you can handle it.
“Fuck, Rafe,” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut as his tongue pushes hard through your folds. You’re really fucking wet. You wonder briefly if it’s because of how hot it was today, then cast that out of your mind completely when you hear Rafe groan. Your body vibrates with it.
His hands suddenly drag you by your hips, closer to his face, and he hums again.
“Taste so fucking good,” he muses, spitting at you, and glances up at your face. You can barely keep your mouth closed like this. “Brat, lying to me.”
You whine, every second of him talking taking his mouth away from where it so desperately needs to be absolute torture, but settle when his thumb begins tracing circles into your clit.
“Fuck me,” you breathe, back arching and leg muscles straining, and Rafe just laughs into your cunt.
“I will,” he murmurs, and you would roll your eyes if you could— but he pushes two fingers into you. His thumb spurs back into motion as you sing, throat already sore. He knows exactly where and when to curl his fingers, and you let him know right there is where they need to be.
“There you go.” He spits a third time, watching it mix with your slick. “Squeezing me so tight, honey,” he assures you, smoothing a hand down your thigh. If you could find words you’d agree.
You manage a “yes, shit,” before you go mute and your eyes roll back into your head. You squeeze around him like a vice, your legs flooding with warmth, and he fingers you through your orgasm. He can’t pull himself away when you get like this— you’re so soft and warm and perfect that he genuinely wonders if he could ever fuck someone else again. He knows the answer is no.
Your abdominal muscles spasm and jolt as you come down, neck straining to look at where his fingers give you a final stroke and find their way to his mouth.
“Fuck, Rafe,” you half-laugh and half-moan, head falling against the deck. You chest heaves as you catch your breath. “This is embarrassing.”
“What?” He says, voice hushed, and presses a kiss to your mouth. “Being on the deck or how quick I can make you cum?” He grins.
This time you can and do roll your eyes.
“Both,” you sigh, legs falling to their place around his hips. You curl up into a sitting position and pet his arm, coming back to reality. He smells like sunshine. “But you still haven’t fucked me yet.”
Your fingers trail down to his jeans, fingertips ghosting over his zipper. He hums in agreement, eyes following. You play with the button for a second, just wanting to tease, but pop it and unzip the fly.
“Wanna know what I’m thinking about?” You ask, reaching up his shirt to feel his hot skin. “That time on the beach,” you purr, voice hushed and eyes wild.
“Yeah?” He bites his lip and sits back on his ass, taking you with him in his lap. Your knees bend and you sit comfortably on the seat that is only yours. “You thinking about my hand?”
“Mhm.” You lean and kiss at his cheek, trailing down to his jaw. “And something else.” You dig a hand down into his boxers and curl your fingers around his dick.
He’s hot and almost slippery, so hard you’re sure it’s painful. Your wrist slides against the tip and his hand on your ass curls into a fist.
You lean back, wanting to see his face, and watch as your touch washes over his body. He blinks rapidly, eyes focusing, and you smile sweetly.
It’s then that you shift into your knees, hand squeezing his dick, and sink down onto him.
His fingers fly up to your strained face and grasp your neck, immediately tight around your throat. Not tight enough to suffocate, but tight enough for your pulse to quicken.
Exactly what you’d imagined.
“You like that?” He pants, breath fanning over your cheek when you turn slightly and grip his shoulder for stability. You just nod and circle your hips.
His thumb on your chin guides your face back to his, wanting to see you fall apart, and you make a whiny noise. He feels where it starts and ends between his fingertips.
You ride between the strain of his hand around your throat and the movement of his body, head tilted back and mouth wide. Your fingers grip his shoulder and bicep as you ride.
It’s a difficult job, balancing the rhythm of your hips with the ache blooming from the muscles in your thighs, but you make it work.
You hear the bashfully whiny groans he’s exhaling into your ear and you make it work.
“You feel so good,” you whisper hoarsely as his hold tightens, chin tilting towards the sky. He grits his teeth and pushes his hips up into yours.
You scramble to grab onto his forearm and hold back your shriek.
The tightness of his fingers around your throat blur the lines of pleasure and pain, making it hard to catch a deep breath and ride him at the same time.
“Fuck, harder,” he stutters, almost whispering, and you nod furiously. Your thighs meet his lap, over and over with a noise that makes you blush even more than you already are, and you’re sure you’ll have bruises or at the very least a red mark.
He releases your throat and anchors himself with your hip and the small of your back, and when you finally gasp for air at the loss of his pressure on your neck he uses all his lower back strength to wedge himself deep into you.
You know you’ll have bruises there.
You push hard against his forearm as your back arches and the tension in your lower abdomen comes to a peak. Your toes curl where they are at his side.
Your vision comes in and out of focus as you cum again, blood white-hot in your veins. The climax is almost numbing. Addicting.
At this point you have no idea the noises you’re making, probably all gibberish and definitely humiliating, but the rushing in your ears is too much.
Rafe shudders and groans loudly into your ear, spending himself inside of you with a grunt, and you follow him as he falls back into the deck. You catch yourself with a palm on the sun scorched wood.
“Jesus Christ,” he pants, heart pounding and chest heaving. Sweat coats his buzzed hair in a shiny sheen, and your whole body is so sticky you feel like you could peel the layer of perspiration off of your body.
His hands still lazily hold your waist and they begin their ascent to your neck. He feels your pulse with the space between his thumb and forefinger, and his face splits into a grin at the feeling.
“I definitely am going to need some food after this.” You push yourself back up into a sitting position and put your hands on your hips as you finally catch your breath.
He looks so beautiful, half in the shade and half in the sun. Laid out beneath you. Still inside. Like some kind of god.
The hot sun is in his eyes, and his body is numb with the tension spent in his muscles. Rafe half wonders if his dick is still fucking there.
He barely feels when you crawl off of him and stumble into standing. He jerks up into a sitting position, that familiar ache in his back present, and grabs for your leg. He winces at the stretch. You should really be paying his chiropractor bill.
“Where are you going?” He accuses, voice scratchy in his throat.
“I need to shower, baby.” You bend to pick up your bikini bottoms. “We’re going to dinner, aren’t we?” You smile and turn back around to go inside, ass bare and a huge red mark in the shape of a large hand curved around the trunk of your throat.
Yeah, drive-up it is.
#obx#obx 3#obx 3 spoilers#rafe cameron#obx fanfic#obx smut#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron x reader#obx x reader#rafe cameron x fem!reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fic#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron imagine
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rating how svt would take care of their s/o when they're sick
pairings: svt x gn!reader
genre: fluff/comfort, crack
warnings: mentions of vomiting/fainting, mentions of food, inaccurate vague medical advice
WC: 928
a/n: because im sick and eating cheeze-its for my first meal at 4pm today 😀 I'm not funny when I'm unwell sorry-
. . . .
seungcheol - 10/10
He has 7+ years of taking care of 12 other boys under his belt - I think this is self-explanatory.
Has a first aid kit with a thermometer ready in the bathroom.
Knows where the nearest 24-hour-drugstore is so he can get you all the right medicines at 3AM.
jeonghan - 8/10
Will think you're joking at first, but when you finally vomit, he's like 😮😰
Tucks you into bed and stays by your side all night. Rubs your cheek every so often to make sure you're not dead.
-2 because he can't cook well and his pride is getting in the way of contacting Mingyu to make you soup. You might throw up for other reasons other than being ill . . .
joshua 8.5/10
Definitely notices from the moment you woke up that something is not right.
He asks if you're okay, but you brush it off saying it was just a cold.
Out of respect, he let's you be, but watches you carefully.
Catches you when you faint overexerting yourself doing laundry. Scolds you for trying to hide your illness and tells you it's okay to rest and be taken care of if you need it.
Unfortunately, tries to soothe you to sleep with Sunday Morning. (But it's Monday and the sun is shining.)
. . . .
Soonyoung - 6/10
Oh sweet, sweet, sweet Kwon Soonyoung 😅
Truly cares and is worried to the core, but he doesn't know what to do other than let you rest.
Will pace the apartment trying to come up with something. Wants to google "how to take care of your sick partner" but technology is his biggest enemy.
Will eventually call Jihoon for help, but his friend is like "What? Why are you calling me? Ask Seokmin?" so he does and eventually gets the help he needs.
Jun - 1000/10
HE! IS! SO! CAPABLE!
Goes full-on mom mode the minute you tell him you're not feeling well.
Wraps you up like a burrito and tells you to stay put while he gets you medicine and checks your temp.
Amidst all that, somehow manages to make you soup and call your doctor for an appt tomorrow just to make sure it's nothing serious.
wonwoo - 7/10
I'm not sure why but he gives me strict dad vibes.
Scolds you for not wearing your coat 3.5 days ago when you start sniffling and coughing.
Forces you to rest and tells you he will take care of you, but from a distance - he can't get sick either. Who else would take care of you?
Knows how to order in a mean bowl of soup.
jihoon - 4/10
🧍♂️
😶
😰
**speed dials mingyu**
. . . .
minghao - 6/10
Sick? There's a tea for that 😎
Meditation can also be helpful 😀
When he opens his eyes, he finds you snoring against the arm of the couch and sighs heavily.
Mildly annoyed, but throws a blanket over you nonetheless.
mingyu - 140000^9 / 10
Thermometer? Check. Tylenol? Check. Alka-seltzer? Check. Pedialyte? Check. Sprite bc you can't tolerate the taste of alka-seltzer and Pedialyte? Check and check.
Has silk pajamas set out for you and newly washed sheets ready for you to rest in.
Already has the kitchen brewing and planning three small meals for the day. You're sick, but you gotta eat - even if you need it just to throw it up.
seokmin - 9/10
Panicc button personified.
Ready to call an ambulance to take you to the hospital to be checked up ASAP, but after much insistence you reassure him it's nothing serious.
Will take the day off of work to attend to all your needs.
Record time of 5.763 seconds to reach you every time you call for something from bed - otherwise, can be found in the kitchen cooking dinner and on his laptop looking up home remedies.
. . . .
seungkwan - 7/10
A worried bean :(
He's a little more reasonable than Seokmin - took you to urgent care instead.
When the doctor told him it was probably just a GI bug and you needed to rest and keep hydrated, he went to the local 7/11 and bought a liter of water for you to drink.
Scolds you when you don't want any because you're nauseous, but let's you be nonetheless.
Later that night will come apologize and tell you he's just really worried.
vernon - 2/10
ILY my dude, but he's so used to being taken care of, he doesn't know how to take care of you 😭😂😅
You would like throw up and he'd be like "oh no 😶" in the most monotonous voice ever.
Don't get him wrong! He's worried and he wants to help, but he's not sure how.
He **does** know how to make (burnt) toast w/jam though 🤗
Will do everything you ask. He can do it - he just needs step-by-step instructions.
His saving grace is that he'd be unfazed by how gross you can be when you're sick. You'd be like "I'm sorry you had to see that," and he'd wipe you're face and be like, "It's fine - you're sick and you can't help it."
chan - 3/10
"STAY HERE! LEMME GO CALL MY GRANDMA FOR HELP!"
Unfortunately, stays on the line with her for an hour.
You already went to and from the drugstore to get your medicines and are just resting now.
Still a sweet kid and asks if you need anything every now and then.
Cuddles :'))))
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Fallen {Chapter Twenty One}
Alastor x (fem)Reader
"So, how are you feeling right now?" Angel asks, getting comfortable as he sets on his bed. First he had grabbed two hard seltzers from the mini fridge next to his bed.
He handed one to me, I just held it for a minute. "Well...I guess I'm happy." I start. "For once, I'm not afraid of Alastor. I feel like there were multiple times he could have hurt me, and he hasn't. And...he's really been helping me out so..."
"Yeah, you never really explained that. How did he help you?" Asked Angel. I tapped my fingers on the seltzer can a few times before exhaling. "I was lost...and alone. I was hurt and scared. So very scared and confused. I had no idea what to do...And then here he comes, offering to help me. I can't really go into much detail, but...I feel like he's helped me see another way. Like, another way to make my afterlife worth living."
"...We talkin' about the same Alastor?" Angel asked.
"I know, he isn't the type." I sigh. "But, once you get to know him. Once he lets down a few walls. He's not that bad..." I say with a smile.
"Boy, you must really love that guy to think all that." Angel muttered as he took a swig of his drink. I only shrug. "It's true. T-That he's not so bad...not the other thing..."
"Y/n, it's just me. You can be honest." Said Angel softly. "I mean, I already know you like him, so...It's not like you'd be revealing some grand secret or anything."
I roll my eyes. "I...I don't know Angel. I really don't." I look down at the drink in my hand, the coldness of the can starting to numb my palm. "I don't think I'm ready for something like this...not right now. Not after..."
Angel shifts slightly in his spot next to me. "It's scary, huh?" He asks, I nod my head. "All teasing aside. I can't say Alastor would be the best fit, when it comes to things like this. For as long as I or anyone had known him, he's never been the romantic type. Nobody knows what he'd be like as a partner. And that can be scary when you're...unsure."
I nod again before opening the can and taking a swig. "I think I might be delusional, Angel." I mutter.
"How so?" He asks.
"I think...my emotions are taking over, and creating this version of Alastor that's not real in my head. It's not the first time it's happened so..."
I continue. "Let's say I do find myself in a relationship with him. What if his true colors show, and he becomes an entirely different person from what I've thought up? What if we don't work out? What if it's a huge waste of both of our time?" My voice cracked with my next question.
"What if I get hurt?"
Angel sighs. "I don't really have a solid answer for ya, Y/n. I'm...not the best person for relationship advice. But...I guess I'll just say this much..."
"If Alastor loves you, really loves you...he'd act like it. He wouldn't put on some fake persona to lure you in. He wouldn't give you empty promises of love and affection. And he would not hurt you. If he does...then he's no better than the rest of the shitty bastards in this place. You deserve someone that would treat you right, you shouldn't have to settle for the bare minimum. And if Alastor isn't willing to step up and be the guy you deserve, then drop his ass. I might not be as strong as Alastor, but I'd fucking fill him up with lead if he tried anything funny with you. That goes for anyone else too."
I smile and place my hand on his. "Thank you Angel. That means a lot." Angel smiles as well.
"I really don't think you understand what's happening..."
The shadowy figure looked over its master, looking slightly concerned, but mostly annoyed.
"You are getting attached to her. I can see it. Anyone can see it. And that's a bad thing, you know that. So why continue entertaining these feelings?"
"First of all..." Alastor began, raising his cane before setting it down hard on the tail of the shadow, firmly keeping it in place. The shadow fell silent and stays still, knowing better than to try disobey Alastor.
"There are no feelings involved. I have no idea how you could have thought that ridiculous accusation up. Secondly, I am not getting attached. You are an extension of me, you should know that's not true. You should know how we really feel about her."
The shadow nods. "Yes. That you have some sort of fascination for her. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you like her."
Alastor gripped tighter onto the cane, slight distortion could be heard coming from him. "Listen here...and you listen good. I do not like anyone here, much less the people I'm around near twenty four-seven, in this god forsaken hotel."
"And what of Rosie and Mimzy?"
"They're different."
"Yes. But Y/n is not?"
Alastor narrows his eyes. "She isn't, I can actually stand to be around her. But not let that fool you into thinking anything more of it. Now, I do not want to hear another word about this, do I make myself clear?"
The shadow sighed before nodding its head. Alastor finally let up on the cane. "Good. Now leave me." The shadow did as it was told and disappeared, leaving Alastor alone. Alastor let out a sigh of his own and pinched the bridge of his nose.
You are getting attached to her. I can see it. Anyone can see it.
Yes, Alastor knew perfectly well why that was such a bad thing. 'Not only would it jeopardize me and my power, but would place Y/n in danger.' He thought before moving his hand away.
He wanted to deny it, that he wasn't growing attached. But it was becoming harder and harder to ignore, that funny feeling stirring in his chest. He's felt many things over the years, but this...even when he was alive had never felt this...
Fear, that was another thing. He knows what fear feels like, but has not experienced it in a very long time. But right now, thinking about what these feelings might be, what they could turn into...
Alastor shook his head, dismissing the thought. No. They would not turn into anything. He didn't need to distract himself by thinking about this silly nonsense anyway. Alastor decided then it was time for a little stress relief. It's been a minute since he's painted the town red after all...
"Still nothing. That shithead must be keeping her locked up in the hotel or something." Vox mutters to himself, as he looks at his dozens of TV screens. All, we're surveilling the city. The TV's could act as a one way mirror sometimes. While passing by demons could look in, Vox could look right back.
He groaned and leaned back. "Looks like I'll have to resort to plan B." He said as he reaches for his phone. After a few seconds, he spoke.
"It's me. Go ahead and get over there. And I swear to fuck, you had better not be lying about this..."
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To Be Alone
A Daniel Wagner / Samuel Kiszka fic
Summary: When Sam gets drunk, he's incapable of having bad ideas.
Tags: alcohol, smut, first time, unprotected sex, MDNI
A/N: wrote this for the girlies (@ofthecaravel @t00turnttrauma) directly after "deleting" a whiteclaw while being like half asleep. Heavily inspired by @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine's post (thank you for the idea, Anna). Title taken from To Be Alone by Hozier, but also a lot of inspo goes to Wicked Games by The Weeknd. As always, enjoy!! <3
Words: 3.2 k
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It was late. After midnight. Sam wasn’t sure how many drinks he’d chugged at this point in the night, but it was enough to make his blood buzz with a warmth that alway put a constant lazy smile on his face. The room was spinning just a little bit, but not enough to make him sick or anything. However, he knew shouldn’t stand for too long or he might not feel too good after long.
All of them were gathered in one of the green rooms, Sam not entirely sure who’s it was at this point. They had played their show well and hard, but the adrenaline of having thousands of people cheering you on as if you were a god was still coursing through all of their veins. He was sweating still despite his lack of clothing on his upper half as well as lack of shoes. He wasn’t alone in his half-nakedness; Daniel’s chest glistening with sweat as he lounged in one of the leather loveseats with a seltzer in his hand.
There was a blunt being passed between all four of them, the cigarillo between Sam’s fingers briefly before puffing once more and passing it to Jake. They all still wore their stage attire, all the rhinestones and crystals glinting colorfully in the dim lights of the green room. Sam, after passing the blunt to Jake, grabbed a seltzer of his own from the beverage cooler. Cracking it open, he began drinking from it as he made his way over to his drummer. He never understood why he was always pulled towards Daniel; it was as if Danny had his own gravitational pull that only affected Samuel.
As the cold drink turned warm in his stomach and heated up the rest of Sam’s body, none of the ideas in his mind were “bad”. So, when his urges told him to just sit himself down in his best friend’s lap, that was the best idea he had ever conjured in his mind.
“Got room for me?” Sam questioned, giggling after he asked. He would later cringe at the memory, but for now, the sight of a few of Daniel’s curls stuck to his cheeks had to be funny or else it would’ve destroyed Sam.
Danny, pulled out of his thoughts, glanced up at Sam and smiled brightly. He smiled at Sam as if he was the most precious thing in his life; Sam often didn’t remember this smile from Daniel as when it came out the most, they were both so drunk they wouldn’t remember anything in the morning.
“Of course, Sammy!” Danny patted the vacant spot next to him, sitting up a little straighter in his seat as it to make room for Sam.
Taking another drink from his seltzer (which was for just a little bit of courage, but Sam would never admit that), Sam plopped himself down right on the thighs of his best friend. He didn’t get to see Daniel’s face unfortunately, as his back was facing it. However, he was able to hear the breath that seemed to have been punched out of his chest.
“Sam,” he gasped, the name strained as it left his lips. Daniel, acting off of instinct alone, grabbed at Sam’s hip with his free hand. Now it was his turn to choke, Sam’s breath stuttering in his throat. If he hadn’t bit his lip, a moan would’ve escaped his mouth. But thankfully, the feeling of Danny’s tight and abrupt grip on his flesh instantly made him feel the need to nip his bottom lip.
With this grip, Daniel instinctively pulled Sam closer. That caused his back to be nearly pressed against Danny’s front. But, more pressingly, that meant Sam felt just how hard Daniel was in his pants. If his face wasn’t already flushed from the liquor, that alone would’ve made Sam blush brighter than a stop light. However, with the liquid courage flowing through his veins, Sam simply swiveled his head and smirked down at his best friend. He didn’t even have to say anything; Daniel was well acquainted with that mischievous look.
“Don’t- I just… you know how it is… playing on stage…” Sam was suddenly reminded of just how bashful Danny could get. He was the shyest one of the group, after all. However, it was rare that Danny would get this way around any of them anymore. It was a lot more common when he had first joined, but it was quickly tamped out as they all got closer.
“Right… and no particular trigger caused-” Sam, an insufferable brat to his very core, shifted enough to get just the right amount of friction against Danny’s hard-on, “-that?”
With a quiet whimper, Danny grabbed at Sam’s hip again. However, it was quickly replaced with a growl of frustration.
“Be careful, sweetheart. You don’t know what you’re messing with, here,” Daniel warned, leaning in so close to Sammy that his nose brushed against Sam’s ear.
“And if you keep playing with fire, you will get burned.” It was said in such a low tone. Sam could’ve thought it was a rumble of thunder if he wasn’t certain it was his best friend speaking.
Sam, only human, couldn’t help the shiver that danced across his body. His eyelids fluttered closed as he inhaled softly. On some deeply buried level, Sam knew he’d always wanted exactly this. However, there were always so many things keeping him from getting it. Now, that never sat well with Samuel. You see, he always got what he wanted, no matter what it was. And tonight was no exception.
With a devilish grin that has gotten him into more than enough trouble over the years, Sam turned his head to look at Daniel from the corner of his eye. Over his shoulder, he breathed: “Good thing I’ve never been afraid of a few burns.”
That earned Sam a breathy laugh from his counterpart. He was impressed and pleased with Sammy’s response, hoping he would play along. See, that’s the thing with Danny. He only made token efforts to protest against his best friends doing reckless and stupid shit. He would initially tell them it was a bad idea, but everyone involved knew he wanted to join them and hardly needed any persuasion to do so.
Tonight, it seemed, was no exception.
Wrapping his free arm around Sam’s exposed torso, his black bejeweled cuffs clamped around his wrist tickling Sam’s skin as it went. He pulled the bassist taught against his chest, Sam’s ass flush against his erection that was getting harder by the minute. A breathy moan slipped out of Sam’s plump lips, his head tipping back to rest against Danny’s shoulder. Daniel buried his nose into those silky chestnut locks, biting back a groan of his own. See, he’d give absolutely anything in the world in order to just go to town on Sam right here right now, but the twins were still in the room. However, that was hardly enough to stop him from whispering the dirtiest words that sprung forth from the farthest reaches of his mind into Sam’s ear.
“Oh, Sammy, if only the twins weren’t here. All the things I’d do to you… all the ways I’d defile you…”
Sam shivered, his eyes fluttering once more. Danny took that as a queue to continue.
“For one, I’d rip these tight pants off you. Then, I’d fuck you so hard you’ll be left whimpering like the whore I know you are,” Daniel continued, holding back with his words if you believe it.
All the bassist could do is breathe. Truly, he was using all of his energy to not cry out in pleasure at the feeling of Daniel subtly rubbing his cock against his ass. It was delicious and torturous all at once.
“Or, maybe you want someone to watch as I desecrate you. Maybe…” Daniel shifted his hips again, “maybe you want an audience as I force you to take anything you can get from me. Maybe you want to be watched as you get cock drunk from me pounding so hard into you that the only noise you can make is my name. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, princess?”
Sam had to bite his tongue so hard that he nearly drew blood at the usage of the pet name. Danny knew that Sam secretly wanted to be called that for a while, Sam having confessed it to him when they were teenagers and very drunk. Now, for Daniel to remember and utilize that tidbit of information, it made Sam want to scream.
“You’re-“ Sam swallowed thickly, “you’re all talk, Wagner.”
Danny, knowing he’d been played but loving every second of the game, chuckled darkly. “Those weren’t empty promises, doll.”
Polishing off the rest of his white claw, Daniel slammed the empty can on the table to his right before effortlessly picking up Sam. The man yelped in surprise before giggling uncontrollably at Daniel’s show of strength. Once again, this proved to be a case of “if I don’t laugh I'll lose my mind over this”. Sam knew he was on the lighter side, however he wasn’t exactly light as a feather. So knowing Daniel hardly strained at carrying his full weight in one arm, that went straight to Sam’s dick. Sam was vaguely aware of the twins asking after them, but they went wholly ignored in favor of finding a private room. Finally after finding an empty room with a lock, Daniel threw Sam down onto the couch after engaging the lock. He was on Sam in an instant, pinning him underneath his weight and caging Sam in with his arms. However, he didn’t go in for the kiss just yet. Instead, he hovered just above Sam’s lips.
“Last chance to back out,” Danny warned, his voice sultry yet composed.
Sam was taken aback. Did he think that Sammy didn’t want this?
“I always get what I want, Daniel,” Sam reminded him, his hands intertwining with his curls, “and I’m getting what I want.”
Daniel almost caved right there, his body betraying him and getting impossibly closer to Sam and swooping down to nearly graze his lips. A frustrated growl left Sammy’s lips, but Daniel wasn’t caving just yet.
“You have a girl,” Daniel reminded, Sam’s girlfriend flashing into his mind’s eye momentarily. Danny cursed himself for having a moral compass right now of all times. He had Samuel Kiszka - the hottest man he’d ever witnessed in his life whom he’d been in love with since they were kids - pinned beneath him and begging Daniel to fuck him with his eyes, and yet he had to have morality at the worst time.
“….what’s her face…?” Sam breathed out, doing everything in his power to get Daniel to do something to him. He went so far as to try and pull Daniel into his lips by using the grip he had on his curls.
Daniel, pursing his lips as he felt Sam’s hard on as he shifted beneath Daniel, nodded. His face was pinched, his brows knit as he clung to any restraint he had left.
“I don’t love her.”
Then why are you still with her? bounced around the back of the drummer’s mind, but it was nearly silent against the deafening pleas from his body begging him to give into Samuel. Sam was right there, essentially served up to him on a silver platter. Unable to resist any longer, Daniel finally caved.
He all but smashed his lips into Sam’s, feeling so drawn to him at that moment. It wasn’t all that intense at first, just your standard drunk kissing. But then, it was if a flip had switched, and they both suddenly became ravenously hungry for the other. It was like no other kiss the other had experienced. It was passionate beyond words, fiery in the best sense of the word. It was twelve years of yearning driving them to insanity culminating into one moment: it was perfect.
It escalated so fast. Within the blink of an eye, both men were naked and refusing to take their hands off the other for even a moment. It was as if they had convinced themselves that if they severed contact in the slightest, it would cause them to wake up from their dream. But it wasn’t long before Daniel was slipping his fingers into Sam’s mouth to lube them up in order to stretch Sam.
At the sensation of Daniel pushing a finger into his ass, Sam moaned sharply, but it wasn’t one of pleasure. In pure concern for Sam, Danny stopped immediately.
“Baby, are you ok?”
Sam, too stunned to speak, simply nodded. Knowing Daniel would need more confirmation, he gave his best friend a reassuring smile because god knew he’d do just about anything to convince Danny to keep going. It was strange, but it was Daniel. Sam knew he was in good hands.
A little reluctantly, Danny continued. When he started to receive wails of pleasure from Sam, all of Danny’s qualms dissipated. While he could’ve sat there all night and played Sam like a violin to get the notes he desired from the bassist’s throat by fingering him, his throbbing cock had other plans. It begged for attention, refusing to be ignored as each moan of ecstasy from Sam was fueling his desire further.
“Are you ready?” Daniel asked, lining himself up with Sammy’s hole. He made sure Sam was looking him in the eye as he nodded. He didn’t want there to be any room for confusion, especially when it came to Sam. He would tear up the universe and blow up the sun just if Sam asked him to, and he’d be damned if he would harm Sam in any manner.
Sam, knowing this about Danny, made sure to look him in the eyes as he nodded his head and breathed out a clear “yes” of consent. It was part of what made Sam fall so hard for Danny.
With a deep breath, Sam braced himself as Daniel pushed himself in. He went slow as per Sam’s request, each inch that Daniel inserted himself knocking the wind out of Sam. At one point about halfway in, it became too overwhelming for Sam and he blurted out for Daniel to stop. “I need to catch my breath.”
Daniel was perfectly ok with waiting, even going so far as to brush Sam’s hair with his fingers and praise him for how well he was doing. Sam’s heart ached. How could he have been so fucking stupid? He’d been searching for the perfect love all his life when it was right under his fucking nose. Sam wanted to cry, to scream at himself in frustration, but he swallowed that down. There was a time and place for that and it was most definitely not while his best friend was half inside of him.
Feeling adjusted, Sam told Danny to continue. Right before Daniel moved, he stole a quick kiss from Sam and began slowly pushing himself inside of Sam. Finally, he pushed all the way in. Both of them seemed to be out of breath, but that was alright by Sam. He still needed to get used to the feeling of having a monster of a cock throbbing inside of him and causing him to feel as though he was going to rip at the seams.
“You can move, if you want,” Sam indicated, his hand gripping onto Daniel's arm so hard he was sure there would be bruises.
Taking the hint, Danny began rocking his hips back and forth slowly and methodically. He was so worried about hurting Sam that he was almost numb to the pleasure sending shockwaves through his entire body.
Almost.
With a hitched moan, Daniel bit his lip as he watched his cock slide into Sam, mesmerized by it.
Daniel wasn’t able to control the sudden snap of his hips as he harshly pounded into Sam, the action making Sam yelp.
“Sammy, I’m so sorry-“
“Do it again.”
It was a demand. Sam stared Daniel down and demanded he get what he wanted.
Something in Daniel shifted.
He wasn’t going to take that attitude from a bratty little whore. And he especially wasn’t going to let Sam get away with his attitude.
Danny stilled his hips all together. Sam whined in protest, a belligerent and petulant look on his face. “Why did you stop??”
The deep chuckle that rumbled out of Daniel’s chest sent chills across Sam’s skin.
“Bratty sluts don’t get what they want, princess. Only good girls who use their manners do.”
Sam, confused by how much he enjoyed being called “slut” and a girl, felt his breath catch in his throat. His eyes widened in pure surprise. He wet his lips, stalling as he tried to process what the hell just happened.
“I’m waiting, Sammy. I can stay here and let you warm up my cock all night,” he traced his fingers down Sam’s chest, goosebumps rising on his skin, “or, you can be a good girl for daddy and use your manners. I know your mother taught you well, you just need a severe attitude adjustment.”
Once again, Sam’s brain shorted out. All this time, he thought the whole “daddy” thing was just a thing for the fans. Something to drive them wild over. He never knew it actually was a thing for Daniel. And fucking hell if it wasn’t the hottest thing ever.
In a move that made Sam’s head spin even further, Daniel wrapped his calloused hand around Sammy’s cock. At the touch, Sam couldn’t bite back the moan that ripped out of his throat. It finally caused Sam to cave.
“Please daddy, please fuck me hard! Oh my god, please fuck me until I walk funny tomorrow,” he whined, probably looking just as pathetic as he sounded.
Daniel was pleased by this display. He finally began to move his hips. However, it was far from the soft and gentle way they started out. Danny had set a brutal pace that left Sam gasping for air in between screams of pleasure.
Sam is ashamed to admit that Daniel stroking his cock in tandem with him fucking Sam’s brains out, he came within a few minutes. He stuttered out a pathetic moan as ropes of his come shot onto Danny’s hand.
Danny wasn’t that far behind. What really pushed him over the edge was the fact that his suspicions had been confirmed: that Sammy’s infamous “bass face” was, in fact, the same face he made when he came. So the idea that he’d seen Sammy’s O-face a thousand times over while the two of them played together, it just became too much for Daniel. As he growled and spilled inside of his best friend, the thought that he’d never be able to see Sam playing music the same ever again buzzed in the back of his mind.
The two panted, foreheads pressed against one another. Danny used his free hand - the one not covered in cum - to gently stroke Sam’s face.
“What did we just do?” Sam quietly asked, an undertone of fear in his words. Danny understood why, he had that same fear that they just fucked everything up in one night fluttering around his thoughts, too.
But instead of believing they ruined everything, Daniel elected to believe they started something.
“Something we’ve both wanted to do for years.”
+++
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@doodle417 @sammykiszkasunusedshoes @jmks-housewife @alwayssotiredbutneverofyou @ageoferin @etoilesnoor @ascendingtostardust @godlygreta @s0livagant @gretavanflowerpowerrr @morganic-goods @dannythedog @baguettejuliette @fan-girl-97 @gaby-gvf @age-of-nyahh @mzbrightside @myownparadise96 @xserenax-13 @sammysvanfeet @strugglingtodoshit @loofypoofy @chalametpwk @seventieswhore @razorbladekiszka @unfortunatelykristin @welightthefire @gretavanfleas @sammiejane22 @satanplayshisfluteforhim @starsasone @writingcold @tearsofbri @teddiie @gardensgatedaisy @sparrowofthedawnsworld @angelbabyyy99 @whollyfreeamongststars @gretaswhore28 @l0rdoffli3s @kay-jordan @lightmyloverry @kenzie18 @gotavansleep @roosterbbradley @freckled-wonderland @flower-power-anthem @gabyvanfleet @sarakay-gvf @mamalikes-gvf @josh-iamyour-mama
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#greta van fleet#danny wagner#sam kiszka#daniel robert wagner#samuel francis kiszka#danny gvf#sammy gvf#jake kiszka#josh kiszka#josh gvf#jake gvf#greta van fic#smut smut smut#sanny gvf#sam x daniel
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Youth ; Chapter 12
⇢ pairing: kenny mccormick x marsh!reader x craig tucker
⇢ synopsis: ❝Growing up with the boys as the sole girl of the group, it was only natural for them to grow protective over their pseudo-little sister as the years went by.❞
⇢ [AO3 link] ; [series masterlist] ; [previous] ; [next]
It’s an eerily silent night at the Marsh residence, the kind where everyone is trying to be as quiet as possible in fear of disturbing the tense air and potentially setting the gears in motion for absolute ruin. For if something as small as a pin were to drop onto the floor, it’d instead sound like a hardcover book getting slammed onto concrete asphalt from ten feet up.
The air feels oppressive—overcast and suffocating, as if everyone is just waiting for something big to happen. It’s so bad that for the first time ever, even my dad doesn’t want to unnecessarily meddle like he usually does. After a tense dinner with only the sounds of metal cutlery against porcelain plates, he instead opted to awkwardly retreat into the garage. A can of beer slides into the back pocket of his jeans to keep him company as he leaves, an alternative to staying in the house with my brother while he’s like this.
My back leans against hard wood before slowly dropping down onto the floor in defeat, my freezing body curling in on itself for warmth. I’ve found myself dedicating my time to camping out in front of my brother's room to not only see if he’ll forgive me, but to keep an ear out for any sounds indicating the consumption of alcohol.
From the sharp noise of any cracked cans of hard seltzer or the tell-tale sound of an opened glass bottle of beer, I carefully listen. I don’t know what I’d do if I was the reason he relapsed with his alcohol abuse, and I really hope that I won’t get to ever see him revert to his dependence on the bitter substance.
It’s as cold as it ever is in South Park and I pull the thick blanket I took from my bed higher up on my shoulders, burrowing my face into the soft material of the pillow under my head. My chest painfully rattles as I shakily heave in a breath, putting my fingers under the small space between the bottom of the door and the floor.
I keep my digits there in childish hope that he’ll see it and hold my hand like he used to when we were younger and separated into different rooms. Like when he’d get grounded, forced to stay inside the confines of his own bedroom until my parents deemed his punishment was over.
Back then, I’d still try to do whatever I could to keep him company, often falling asleep in the same spot that I’m in right now to let him know that I was there. Except during those times in what feels like so long ago, the action would be reciprocated and he’d sleep on the other side of the barrier with our fingers tightly interlocked throughout the late hours. Tonight, my hand curls in on nothing, waiting.
My body shudders from those post-crying hiccups you sometimes get after you’ve sobbed so hard. The one’s where your chest keeps involuntarily heaving for breath, almost like you’re hyperventilating. I’ve been utterly unconsolable to even my mom, my parent’s bedroom door cracked open so she can keep a watchful eye over my miserable form out in the hallway. I can hear her silently speaking into the phone, her hushed voice worried as she consults my older sister on what to do.
I don’t even remember sleep taking me as I try as hard as I can to fight my seemingly heavy eyelids. But when it captures me in its dark embrace, I dream of the times when life was much simpler in my ignorant adolescence.
・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
When I abruptly regain consciousness, it’s to someone softly shaking my shoulders. I bolt my body upright, forcing myself to wake up in excitement until I see that it’s just my mom crouched down in front of me. She gives me an apologetic smile, sympathy crossing her features when she sees my form pathetically hunch in on itself in disappointment.
“I’m sorry, N/N. But your brother left for school already so it'd be best if you start getting ready now.” The brunette softly speaks into the quiet morning, as if scared of being the harbinger to this piece of information. She gently brings me to her robed chest and I can feel myself sharply inhale at her words, my throat tight as I weakly nod against the soft material.
My mom holds me for a silent moment before a tired sigh beyond her years leaves her body. I start to feel even shittier at the sound, more so than before for stressing her out. Despite the tight feeling of guilt reclaiming it’s throne in my chest, I refuse to relinquish details of my brother’s mood. Sometimes, I feel like she probably wishes she aborted us for getting double than what she paid for—Shelley never causes mom and dad this much trouble.
“Your sisters worried… She asked if you needed her to come over tonight when her classes for today are finished.” I frantically shake my head, the pit of my stomach dropping at the thought of my sister driving the lengthy miles just to visit.
When she finally leaves me to get ready for school, my body violently shudders when a dry sob catches itself in my throat. The lump tries to force itself out when I come to the realization that my brother placed one of his blankets over me when I was asleep.
・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
My brother doesn’t even look at me when I step into the class for homeroom, the boys walking ahead of me as I uncharacteristically trail behind them in silence. I can barely see from not only my puffy eyes but from the pair of shades sitting on my face, a conscious effort to hide the evidence of me crying. Butters has been helpfully guiding me around with a hand wrapped around my own since we got to school, like I’ve suddenly gotten impaired with an unexpected case of blindness.
When I sit down, I impatiently stare at the hands of the clock on the wall and will it to go faster. After absolutely nothing happening, I just accept my fate and gloomily bury my face into the arm of the blonde standing right next to my desk. At my touch, Tweek automatically turns his body towards me so that he can wrap his arms around my head to hug me from his elevated position.
He begins to rub soothing circles onto the back of my hair in sympathy, softly combing through silky locks in a way that I’ve told him feels good when we were younger. Since then, its been an unconscious habit for the blonde to bury his fingers into my dark tresses, going through the repetitive motions now ingrained in him. I’ve fallen asleep one too many times during movies or casual hangouts from this already.
I knew that if anyone asked me what was wrong or looked at me too closely that I would immediately break this already fragile facade and crumble. That the tears would automatically begin to stream out of my already tired eyes and the sobs would instantly rack my sore throat to no consolation. And I really didn’t need anymore of that with how tender the area of my swollen eyes already are.
Which is why after the second period, I opted to switch over to wearing Craig’s old Buddha Box on the top of my head instead of the sunglasses when people kept asking if I was high or dealing with a massive hangover. Now Butters has to interlock our fingers to lead me around so that I don’t bump into anything from the extra space on my body that I’m not used to, like I painfully have a few times already.
・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
Butters and Tweek drop me off home after they take me to get a quick after-school snack, the rest of the guys at football practice. The two forced me to skip cheer for the sake of my quickly deteriorating mental health and they soon got my acquiescence at the promise of dessert. As I turn my house keys into the lock of the door, my self-appointed guide sends me strict orders to run myself a bath and get some nice, relaxing ‘splish splash.’
“I better see your frown upside down when I see you later tonight, little missy.” The blonde’s eyebrows are creased and his arms are bent to position his fists onto his waist in an attempt to be stern, yet it’s ruined by the slight curl of the little pout on his lips.
I fondly smile at the teen, patting the soft locks of golden hair that rest on his head. He whines when he sees that I’m not taking his words seriously, cutely stomping a foot down in indignation. “I’m serious, N/N!”
When Tweek forcibly pulls the protesting teen so that he can make it to his shift on time, I do as I promise and sit on the bathroom counter as the porcelain tub fills up. My dangling feet leisurely swings back and forth as I scroll through my phone for a playlist to keep me company, the sound of running water already soothing to my ears. Once full of warmth, I decide to forgo the lights of the bathroom and instead opt to light up a few candles for a more cozy ambiance.
Finally sitting alone with my thoughts, I find myself slowly bringing my wet legs up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them for comfort. Burrowing my face onto the knees in front of me, I’m once again enclosed with the oppressive silence that has made itself home in the Marsh residence since that fateful night.
The quietness of the house is quick to remind me of what being around people all day has forced me to forget, not a distraction in sight to forcibly keep my mind off things. Just as the first few droplets of silent tears make their way down already soaked cheeks, the shower curtain besides me gets abruptly yanked to the side. Jerking my head out of the safe confines of my arms in surprise, I’m presented with the sight of my blonde lover.
“Hi, babe!” He cheerily greets me, a grin wide on his handsome face. I feel lost and confused for a quick second at the unexpected visit before a large hand reaches for Kenny’s shoulder from behind, harshly tugging him out of my view.
“Are you fucking serious? She’s busy taking a damn bath. Leave her alone, you fucking leech.” My head perks up at the sound of Craig’s monotonous chiding, excitement and delight rapidly coursing through the depths of my stomach at the knowledge that both of my boys are here with me right now.
“Dude, can you just shut the fuck up? All you fucking do is ignore me, you asshole. It was boring when it was just the two of us waiting in her room.” Despite being hidden by the shower curtains once more, I can just hear the pout peeking through Kenny’s indignation at the ravenette. “I really don’t see our princess’s appeal with an annoying ass bastard like you.”
The blonde grumpily mumbles out the last sentence of his response in disdain and my lips quirk up at his childish impatience. It makes my heart soar knowing that Kenny gets antsy without me by his side, the thought endearing through his eagerness to be near me.
A large hand suddenly appears by itself and I gently grasp it within my own. Despite my wet digits making contact with dry skin, the blonde sends our joined limbs a reassuring squeeze. At the action, Craig barks out through clenched teeth, steadily losing his patience at the blonde’s insistence.
“Kenny.”
“What now?!” Kenny’s thumb begins to unconsciously rub soothing circles onto the back of my hand and I giggle, “Hop off my big fat dick, Tucker. My beautiful girlfriend is naked beyond these curtains and you expect me to just sit still? You're fucking hilarious.”
I slightly push aside the flimsy material barricading itself between the boys and I, peeking my head out. When I see the two of them, my dreary mood is instantly forgotten and I smile once more. “I don’t mind.”
“See?! Say it one more time for me, Princess. I think his ratty hat impairs his hearing.” A loud thwack! echoes out into the bathroom as the ravenette harshly slaps Kenny on the back of his head, the blonde letting out a sharp yelp at the pain.
Craig crosses his arms and rolls his eyes when the hurt teen begins to dramatically fake cry, his hold on my hand relinquishing itself to nurse his head. I lay my forearms across the edge of the bathtub, resting my head on it as I fondly watch the scene play out in front of me.
“Babe, help me feel better!” He obnoxiously wails, the ravenette pinching the smooth skin in between his eyes in annoyance to the loud noise. “Let me hop in with you!”
A loud laugh gets released from my body and I hold onto my stomach from the hilarity of the blonde’s absurd theatrics. The already irritated teen quickly pulls Kenny by the hood of his parka when he tries to strip off his clothes, effectively choking him by the neck from his harsh pull. The blonde rushes to let go of the material adorning his frame in an effort to wrestle the arms attempting to restrain him.
“What’s your fucking problem, Tucker?! You act like we all didn’t bathe together when we were babies!” Kenny exclaims, a flail of long limbs as he tries to fight the ravenette off.
“Yeah, when we were fucking babies! Four billion years of evolution and you’re the result? Even if we corrected every genetic defect you have, you’d still be a perverted dumbfuck. Holy fucking shit, dude.” Craig yells over the sounds of the blonde trying to push the taller teen off of him, a hand smushed into his cheek and an elbow digging into his ribs.
The two bickering boys immediately stop when a sob rips through my throat.
“I’ve been such a fucking cry baby, I’m sorry.” I say through my tears when I notice their attention on me, futilely trying to rub the wetness in my eyes away.
“Oh, baby.” Kenny softly coos as he returns to my side next to the bathtub, worried eyes flicking over my crying form.
“Talk to us, babe. What’s wrong?” Craig settles himself on the floor next to the blonde, watching my actions with a sad expression marring his handsome face.
His large hands reach over to gently pry mine away from my face, to stop myself from scrubbing at my already tenderly swollen eyes. He softly shushes me when I whine in protest, patiently holding onto my wrists until I finally relent at his unwavering determination and drop my arms.
“I just… Smiling and laughing with you guys just made me feel guilty when my brother is suffering out there because of me.” I hiccup through the tears still profusely leaking out from my tired eyes, onto the already raw skin of my red cheeks.
“The restlessness just doesn’t stop. And I don’t know what's worse—crying until I can’t fucking breathe or the stubborn lump in my throat that won’t go away even when my eyes are dry. I want to scream, cry, yell, or even hurt myself because that all seems better than feeling as empty and sad as I do now.” There's a thin film of tears that begins to develop in Kenny’s azure orbs after listening to my admission, his eyebrows creased as he stares at my vulnerable form.
It's silent for a stilled moment, my nose sniffling into the quiet.
“I think… That crying is a sign of strength. It’s not a weakness like you think it’s making you be. It’s a demonstration of a completely comfortable relationship with yourself. Choosing to cry and feel is a choice in the interest of your own emotional health.” My sore eyes flicker to watch the ravenette when he softly speaks up, his hands lightly sliding down from my wrists to interlock our fingers together.
He brushes his thumb gently against the back of my hand in reassurance before bringing our joined digits together, pressing a light kiss to my wrist and lowly mumbling onto wet skin. “Your tears explain something when you’re struggling to connect with or articulate your own feelings. Because of that, seeing you freely express yourself like this is inspiring for someone as emotionally constipated as me.”
“For once, Tucker is right. And this relationship means we’re with each other now. We made a commitment to be with one another so we’re all in this whether we like it or not. Let’s put our heads together and think! How’re we going to get Stan to forgive us?”
My forehead softly touches the blonde’s as I cheekily take his words literally, the both of us softly chuckling to one another at my playful action. His head slightly shifts under mine when he reaches an arm out in an attempt to pull the missing person of our trio towards us.
It proves to be a struggle as he doesn’t want to jostle our point of contact too much, doing whatever he can to keep our skin touching. “Lean forward, Craig!”
“I am not fucking doing that.” The ravenette lets go of our intertwined fingers to cross his arms over his torso, viciously scowling as he leans his body away from the blonde’s persistent hands.
When a smile slowly grows on my face at the reassuring words and comfort these two bring me, I know that they’re right—we’re in this together. And as long as we have each other, I know that everything will be okay.
・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
When Kenny and Craig have to head over to meet the rest of the guys for band practice at Tolkien’s (is it any surprise that he has the biggest garage to fit everyone’s equipment?), they drop me off at Tweek Bros. Coffeehouse with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to see me later. While waiting for the end of the blonde’s shift, I claim my usual table closest to the barista so that I can talk to him while I also work on some much needed homework.
Clocking out a few hours later, the coffee connoisseur grabs onto my hand after we bundle up for the cold to pick up some food for the boys. When we get to the front of the door that leads to the garage, the blonde stops in front of it.
He looks at me before tightening his slender hand around mine in both reassurance and encouragement, to which I offer him a wobbly smile in appreciation. His feet doesn’t move again until I send him a nod in confirmation that I’m ready to go in, Tweek sending me a small smile in support.
Opening the last barrier between us and the rest of the guys, we’re greeted by a variation of hey’s getting lazily thrown at our arrival. Everyone sits in a makeshift circle around the coffee table in the lounge area (yeah, with a fucking couch and everything to the side of the garage) with their instruments strewn on either their laps or to the side, on the floor against their chairs.
The caffeine lover and I step into the warmth of the room before he begins laying the plastic bags holding the various containers of City Sushi takeout down onto the glass surface. As I help the blonde with bringing everything out and setting the styrofoam boxes onto the table, a pair of arms abruptly wrap around my waist. Before I know it, I’m kidnapped from my current task as I find myself being pulled onto Craig’s lap.
He’s sleepy from the late hour of the night as he shoves his face into the crook of my neck, sighing in relief when his head gets to finally rest. I tense up when our skin makes contact before firmly whispering his name.
”Craig.”
“What?” Comes the muffled reply, his arms instinctively tightening their hold on me in fear that I was going to escape due to the tone of my voice.
“My brother.” I say through gritted teeth, nervously looking at Stan’s form from my peripherals. I don’t move my head to show that I’m obviously watching him even though everyone in this room is sitting close enough to hear every single word we think we’re discreetly saying to each other.
I don’t know what more I expected from the guy who doesn’t give a fuck about literally anything, so I shouldn’t have been surprised when the ravenette just scoffs with no effort to lower his voice. “I don’t give a shit, I’m fucking tired.”
I can just imagine the glare my brother is most definitely sending at the taller teen for his lack of decorum but I don’t want to chance myself with a look.
Kenny just loudly snorts at the ravenette’s words to our left, without looking away from his cellphone and I just think to myself: why me? My head quickly whips to his direction to shoot him a frown but then I distractedly notice his hair. The upper half of his blonde locks are tied up as they usually are when he needs to do something requiring concentration, like right now so that it doesn’t get in his way during band practice.
I’m embarrassed to say that I may have stopped to admire his attractive appearance, losing the admonishment on the tip of my tongue. His handsome face turns towards my dazed one, a knowing smile teasingly set on it. This time it’s Craig’s turn to scoff, having taken his head out of the solace of my warm neck to place his chin on my shoulder.
“You were saying?” The ravenette lazily drawls from behind me, having seen my immediate loss of thought at the sight of the other member of our trio. He snickers when I blindly bring my elbow back to try to hit him on the side, planting a kiss on my cheek at my ‘cute’ attempt to chastise him.
I pout at the teasing and try to hide my blush as I quickly take a glance around the room, glad that everyone isn’t acting weird after what happened. They’re probably waiting to stop walking on eggshells so that they can playfully rip on us for our unconventional relationship when things are back to normal between my brother and I. When I can see from the side of my eye that Stan is preoccupied with discussing something on a page of sheet music with Tolkien, I take the moment to wistfully catch a peek at my brother.
Yeah, we fight a lot but it’s always over petty shit that ends up with us talking to the other by the end of the day. Despite whatever grudge we think we might develop from whatever childish thing we argue about, it’s never been bad enough to last this long. It’s weird to not have him by my side, to have him out of reach like he is right now despite being in front of me.
It’s like how there are just given things in this universe that people have come to accept for what they are and without question, because it’s just the way things have always been. Like how the sky is blue or grass is green. Because this, this right here just isn’t right.
A melodious sound interrupts my pining and I turn my head back to the blonde. He often likes to talk through his instrument but I notice that he’s playing a progression of chords on the electric guitar sitting on his lap. My lips begin to quirk up after a few seconds when I recognize the strum pattern of the song he’s playing.
“But you know I’m yours.” He sings to me, fondly cooing at the vivid red that quickly begins to furiously paint my cheeks at the lyrics the blonde suddenly serenades me with.
He has a charming smile on his handsome face as he watches my reaction, eyes full of affection and expectant. I smile around the words that I belt back at him. “And I know you’re mine.”
“Good shit, the note you hit was perfect.” Craig lazily mumbles by my shoulder, his head slightly turning to the side to plant a kiss on my cheek. When his arms tighten around my waist, I can’t help the giggles escaping from my mouth in giddiness for making him proud.
My face beams at the sudden compliment, my teeth settling themselves onto my lower lip as I try to contain my smile from growing any wider. The ravenette noses at the skin on the side of my cheek, his touch lingering as I greedily drink in his words of praise.
“Fuck. You’re just too cute.” Kenny says as he leans forward, grabbing onto my cheeks with both of his hands to bring my face in closer for a kiss of his own.
When our lips quickly make contact, the blonde keeps his face close to mine even when we part. He has a large grin on his face as he leans the sides of our noses together, his large hands still on my face. He softly laughs into the space between us, the puff of air lightly hitting my skin before pressing a peck to my cheek from our already close proximity.
Crack!
Everyone’s head shoots up at the source of the noise. My brother doesn’t look at anyone as he dusts splinters of wood from his lap with an unbothered expression on his face. It seems I got carried away and forgot about our audience in the room because there, lying in front of him on the table, is a broken pair of disposable chopsticks that came from the restaurant.
・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
The night brings a darkness that can make anyone scared of the unknown but with the stars overhead sparkling so bright, their constant luminescence is a reassurance that they’re always there for you. I smile when I spot the constellations that I can remember, my eyes outlining their forms from the memories I have of my first date with Craig.
Since then, he’ll often take Kenny and I out to the rooftop of any of our houses so that we can lie down and talk for hours into the night. The blonde will usually complain about the cold or at being sleepy but he’ll never fail to tag along.
The garage door leading to the side of the front yard is open, soft laughter resounding from voices within and casting a sliver of light onto the asphalt that meets ice frosted grass. I lean back against Kenny’s clothed chest as he props himself up against the wooden fence enclosing the property, his orange parka open so that he can wrap me in the soft material’s warmth.
My hands just barely peek out from under the hem of the larger jacket that engulfs my frame, Craig interlocking our fingers together to keep my gloveless digits warm in the cold Colorado air. Shifting my vision slightly, my eyes begin to leisurely watch a trail of smoke ascend into the abyss of the open sky.
I follow it to the cigarette that has soft lips wrapped around it, the ember hues casting a warmth of brilliance onto the handsome visage of the attractive teen in front of me. The shadows casted against his face accentuate his sharp features, defining his long eyelashes and the perfect slope of his nose. When beautiful eyes meet my own, a spark of amusement paints them as the corner of his lips quirk up at my staring.
A large hand rises to languidly remove the cancer stick from his slightly parted mouth as he leans his face closer to mine, but I just wrinkle my nose and move my face away. Deep laughter sounds out from the ravenette in front of me at my childish refusal to kiss him when he tastes like cigarettes. A soft snort is heard from above my form at the blatant rejection, Kenny’s chin softly planted against the top of my head.
The three of us simultaneously move our heads when we hear the sound of oncoming footsteps that signal someone joining us outside, our eyebrows raised in surprise when we see that it’s my brother taking a step onto the pavement. He softly clicks the door shut behind him, effectively cutting off all of the noise the other boys make from inside.
We share a quick glance in both confusion and apprehension as Stan leans against the wooden fence next to Kenny, pulling out his own cigarette and lighting it up. It’s quiet again as we wait for him to talk, no one daring to make a move unless the elder Marsh does something first. Soft chirping from the occasional crickets can be heard, filling the silence between us.
When his lips finally part, he keeps his eyes on the dark sky that blankets us. He mumbles around the object in his mouth, voice low yet still firm. “Stay curious about her, don’t assume you know everything there is to know just ‘cause you’ve known her your whole lives. She’s constantly evolving as a person and if you look away from her for even just one second, you’ll miss it.”
His eyes sweep to look at both of the boys on either side of me, a hand flickering the gray ashes onto the floor below us. They land and spark a light of orange and red before softly fizzling out into nothingness. “You need to stay in love with her—there’s a difference between love and in love. Each day you need to remind yourselves what it is that drew you to her, and then ask yourselves what draws her to you still. If you fail to reflect your love through words or actions even by the slightest bit, someone else will be able to give her the love and attention she deserves if you can’t provide it.”
I clench onto the hands interlocked with my own, my form shaking not from the cold but from the barely held adoration that is now coursing throughout my entire body. “Hug her as often as you can. She doesn’t say it but she loves to cuddle even if you’re doing separate things—just having someone there for her even if it’s in silence brings her comfort. If you can’t, then you need to promise that you’ll make it up to her later instead of half-assing it. Don’t ever do shit unless you’re sure that you’re going to put your all into it. She doesn’t need crap like that if you’re not going to fully commit.”
His eyes finally land on my form and when he flashes me a small smile in pure affection, I immediately tear myself out of Kenny’s hug to throw myself into the warm embrace of my brother’s. He continues to speak as he brings his arms up to my shaking form, wrapping them around my shoulders.
“Trials and tribulations are inevitable in relationships, even more so when there’s going to be the three of you involved instead of the usual two. But promise me that you won’t let those small, passive aggressive moments fester into bitterness and resentment. She can never hold a grudge if she cares about you, even if she says she can. It just takes a genuine apology to make her smile again.” He softly squeezes my body when I begin to softly cry of happiness and relief into the crook of his neck.
“See? And she swears up and down that she’s tough shit.” He lightly snickers into my hair and I wetly laugh at his teasing, gently tightening my hold around his waist.
There's a beat of silence before he unhurriedly speaks again, the tone of his voice changing back to one of deep seriousness. He leisurely brings a foot over his fallen cigarette to stub it out, his eyes thoughtful as he sorts out his thoughts.
“Be honest with your feelings and constantly communicate. Always know that there is going to be more than one side to a story, and more often than not, you should listen to all of them. And I know that people always say that communication is key, but comprehension is. You can communicate all you want with someone but if they don’t understand you, it’ll never reach them like you need it to.”
He sighs into the raven locks adorning my head, softly closing his eyes. His lips move against strands of black, “Create healthy boundaries, because love thrives when it’s safe and cared for. And Y/N deserves to be doted on and protected.”
A pointed look is directed at both Kenny and Craig to ensure that they’re listening, my body occasionally jolting from the slight hiccups that rack my body. My sticky cheeks press onto my brother’s collarbone and I feel bad for creating a puddle of tears on his jacket. “I want you to constantly tell her that you love her. I don’t care if it’s through words or actions—hold her hands often or show up for her, especially when she needs it the most. Whatever it takes to properly convey your feelings, you better do anything it takes. Because I don’t ever want you both to assume that she knows, you need to show it.”
It’s quiet for a moment and I assume that he’s done so I lift my head away from the ladder of his neck. He looks at me as he speaks again, an identical pair of eyes holding my own stare. His voice is soft and gentle, “And most importantly… Always remember that you’re a team. You don’t fight against each other, you fight whatever the problem is together. Learning to rely on each other isn’t a bad thing, sharing isn’t redirecting the burden. Think of it as conquering your adversities together, because you can’t do everything alone. And Y/N doesn’t ever deserve to feel alone.”
He breaks our eye contact to look at the other two, pulling me back against his chest. There’s a lazy smirk on his face, a confident lilt to his voice as he drawls out his next words.
“Oh, and one last thing. Break her heart or make her cry and I’ll kick your asses so fucking hard that you’ll be tasting the dirt on my shoes and your own shit for the next year.”
song: [buddy holly - weezer]
a/n: reader and kenny sing this to each other the way it's sung after the second verse, not the first! please listen to this classic and tell me the guitar solo isn't fucking amazing
#south park#south park x reader#kenny mccormick x reader#craig tucker x reader#kenny mccormick#craig tucker#south park fanfiction#lalawrites
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Play it Again || A. Hotchner x Fem Reader
hi all! This is just a little something based off of Play it Again by Luke Bryan. Hope you enjoy!
contains: alcohol consumption
wordcount: 1.6k
It was one of those perfect early-spring nights that reminded you that the winter was worth suffering through. You were gathered in Rossi’s backyard celebrating the unseasonably warm weather and a rare Saturday night off with everyone free. JJ and Morgan were helping Jack and Henry roast marshmallows, Spencer and Penelope were tossing tiny piles of uprooted grass at each other, and Emily and Rossi were in the kitchen putting together another pitcher of sangria. There was an early spring breeze carrying the music coming from the radio of Morgan’s truck, and you were sitting in the bed, your legs stretched out. Hotch ambled over to you, a fresh beer in one hand and a White Claw from the cooler in the other for you.
“You looked like you could use a cold one,” he said, handling the can over and settling into the side of the truck, resting his arm on the edge of the bed.
“Thanks. And you picked the best flavor,” you smile at him, cracking open the mango seltzer.
“It was mostly lime left in the cooler, I had to go digging,” he smirks.
You pull a face. “Nobody likes lime.”
“I imagine that’s why they’re all still in the cooler.”
You chuckle a little at his dry humor. You know that most people wouldn’t really call that a joke, just an observation, but those people… they didn’t get Hotch.
“I’m glad you came tonight,” you say genuinely, and you’re surprised to see how touched he is when he turns to look at you. “I know it’s not always easy to get to team stuff with Jack. It means a lot that you make the effort.”
“Despite the hardass exterior, I do truly enjoy your company. You’re right, it’s not always easy, but I want to be here with you,” he says. “With all of you,” he adds after a second, instantly regretting it. Why is it so hard to be honest with you? “Actually, I should say—” he starts, but he’s cut off by your gasp.
“I’m sorry, Hotch, but hold that thought. I’ve been waiting for this song to come on all night,” you say, hopping out of the truck and turning towards him. “Dance with me, please.”
He rolls his eyes. If it were anyone else, he’d say no, and he knows it. But he’s helpless.
“You’re totally going to kill my hardass act,” he says as he takes your hand.
The song you’ve been waiting all night for is some country-pop song, and Hotch can help but grin as you throw your head back in a laugh when he spins you. He pulls you back into his chest and you stumble a bit, giggling all the while. You make contact with his chest– it wasn’t on purpose, necessarily, but it wasn’t quite an accident, either. He catches you. You knew he would.
“Sorry. One too many White Claws, I guess,” you chuckle at your own self-deprecating joke as you take another sip.
“You okay?” He asks, looking you over and quirking a brow. You can practically see the gears of his brain turning as he attempts to mentally catalogue each drink you had this evening.
“I’m good, Hotch. Only 20% clumsier than I normally am. Just not really a dancer,” you assured him.
“You could’ve fooled me,” he tells you with a sly grin.
“Good partner. Good song. There’s a saying about broken clocks that might apply.”
“Nothing broken about you,” he says.
“What were you saying? Before the dancing,” you asked.
Aaron draws in a breath. He’d halfway hoped that you’d forgotten in the admittedly short period of time. But, you hadn’t, so it was time to pay the piper. “I was going to say— I’ve been meaning to tell you, it’s only fair—” he starts to stumble over his words, but Jack comes over in a rush.
“Dad! Can I sleep over at Henry’s? Ms. Jareau said it’s okay,” he asks breathlessly.
Hotch gives his son a discerning look. “Did she offer to have you come over, or did you or Henry pester her until she said yes?” He asks.
For Jack’s sake, you hold in your chuckle. The profiling never stops, it seems.
“She really offered. You can ask her yourself,” Jack insists.
Aaron turns to look at you apologetically. “I should probably go talk to JJ,” he says.
“Go ahead– I need a s’more. We’ll catch up later,” you tell him.
JJ is wiping Henry’s sticky hands when Hotch and Jack make their way over. “I just wanted to make sure the kids didn’t put you up to anything,” He says.
“We go head-to-head with serial killers, Hotch. I think I can handle a couple of ten year olds in the throes of a sugar rush,” she teases him.
“Still. You don’t have to. We could get the boys together tomorrow, or some other weekend,” he tries to give her an out, but she refuses.
“I really did offer, Hotch. It’s no big deal. You should offer Y/N a ride home. She came in with me— and you should ask for a permanent spot on her dance card before somebody else does.”
“Jayje,” Aaron sighs, feeling not unlike a sibling being called out for their schoolyard crush. He’d been so caught up in dancing with you that he hadn’t stopped to think that the team might be watching– he felt a blush grow up his cheeks just thinking about it.
“I’m just saying” JJ raises her hands in surrender. “You make each other happy, and you both deserve that.”
“I’ll drive her home,” Aaron agrees to the first request pointedly. “You can just text me in the morning when the boys are up.”
“Okay. But if things go really well and you need more time—” she starts suggestively.
“JJ!” He admonishes with nothing behind it.
When Aaron finds you after sending Jack off, you’re finishing off a glass of sangria with Prentiss while Morgan and Rossi are working on putting out the campfire. Garcia and Reid are nearby clearing off the picnic table where the snacks had been set up.
“Turns out JJ really did offer to take the boys,” he explains to you. “I’ll take you home when you’re ready.”
“Hotch, you didn’t have to do that. I could have taken an Uber,” you tell him.
“Well, I told JJ I’d take you, and I’m a man of my word,” he sighs in mock consternation.
The two of you bid the team goodnight, and he leads you out to the car with a supportive hand on the small of your back. You’re not really all that drunk— just a little buzzed, and sated with the pleasure of your friends’ company, but you appreciate the warm, steady pressure of it all the same. It’s been a long night, and you’re fading fast by the time you make it to the driveway, practically melting into the leather interior of Hotch’s SUV. You don’t fall asleep, but you’re too tired to break the comfortable silence that lingers between you.
The words JJ had said float through Hotch’s brain as he drives. He should just tell you, he thinks. It can’t be selfish if it’s honest, can it? And so what if it is selfish? Hasn’t he earned the right? He glances over at you, catches a glimpse of your soft, lazy smile as you watch the lights of the city pass by. The tableau is almost too perfect. He couldn’t dare to disturb it with a confession like the one he was harboring. He turns up the radio, just a hair.
He pulls into your driveway, and you stir, getting your bearings and stretching a bit before turning to face him.
“I’ll walk you up,” Hotch says, and you smile.
“I’m okay,” you tell him.” You’ve already gone far enough out of your way,” you tell him.
“It wasn’t a problem. Really, I’d do a—”
He starts to say more than he knows that he should when you draw in a quick breath, reaching for the radio dial. “It’s my song again,” You smile. “One more dance?”
He should say no. He doesn’t know how much longer he can straddle this line before he’s too far gone to be helped. But he can’t bring himself to do it. He chuckles a little at his own lack of willpower before turning the radio up and rolling down the windows, coming around to the other side of the car and opening the door for you.
You take the hand he offers to help you out of the car and let him lead you in a dance. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you the whole time, and you can’t look away from him either. You know him— know he doesn’t let the light in like this for just anybody. You’re thankful that he does it for you, and you want more. He spins you out and pulls you back in as the song ends, and you’re helpless. You rise to your tiptoes, and watch Aaron’s eyebrows hit his hairline as you drape your arms around his neck. Before you can think any better of it, you press your lips to his. He’s surprised, you can feel it in the way the muscles of his back tense under your arms, but he relaxes after a moment, bringing his hands around your waist and kissing you back soundly.
You pull away after a moment, feeling something between shock and elation. “I can’t believe that song came on again,” you say dumbly.
Aaron, for his part, seems to find your non sequitur charming. He treats you to a rare, two-dimpled smile. “Play it again,” he whispers, leaning back in to kiss you a second time.
tagging: @arsonhotchner @shyhotch @call-me-mrsreid @dadbodhotch11 @the-modernmary @angelfxllcm @rousethemouse @skyler666 @mintphoenix @gspenc @ashhotchner @wheelsupkels @infinite-tides @zetasaturno99 @itsmeiguessidk @ahouseforhermitcrab @catsofsmoke @silversighs
note: I tagged everyone who was on my taglist from YMP and everyone who interacted with the post requesting a tag. If anyone is on here mistakenly please let me know! I will remove you and I won't be offended at all. Additionally, just a reminder that I ask folks on the taglist to reblog and/or comment on each update.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner x reader fic#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#hotch x reader fic#hotch x reader#hotch x you#hotch x y/n#criminal minds#criminal minds fic
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cracking open a cold one (hard seltzer) with the boys (alyssa and smith) and watching the game (fried green tomatoes)
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blurble blurb #4 feat Jake
Jake Kiszka x Reader
This is just pure sweet fluff
Your favorite nights with Jake were these ones. Windows cracked open to let in a breeze. Your favorite take out and a large spread of snacks on the coffee table. A couple bottles of wine or maybe a new type of seltzer.
You would sit next to each other on the couch while eating your dinner, catching up on your respective days. He’d tell you about whatever song he and the boys had been working on that day. You would tell him about the new project you were taking on at work.
After dinner was done you’d head out back and start a small fire. Jake would bring out his acoustic and mindlessly strum a tune, or he would play any song you requested. When the chill started to set in you would tuck your toes under his butt and he would let you massage his hands.
Eventually it would get too cold and you’d both make your way back inside, heading upstairs to put on pajamas. Jake would throw on his favorite pair of sweatpants and you would steal one of his many old band shirts. Collecting your blankets off the bed you would head back downstairs and start to get comfy on the couch.
Jake would settle down first, holding back the blanket so you could tuck yourself into his side, wrapping your arms around his middle and resting your head on his shoulder. He’d pull the bowl of popcorn and m&ms into his lap and turn on the tv to put on a movie. You had a rotation of favorites that you regularly chose from, taking turns and tonight it was Jake’s choice.
He of course chose The Princess Bride but how could you complain. He was the Wesley to your Princess Buttercup.
#jake kiszka#jake kiszka fanfic#jake kiszka x reader#jake kiszka fluff#greta van fleet#josh kiszka#danny wagner#sam kiszka
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The Years Start Coming And They Don’t Stop Coming
I was inspired to write a little fanfic back in August 2022. I had some general ideas but only wrote this much and haven’t touched it since. But I read it again recently and still thought it was cute so I decided to share. Keep in mind it is very rough with little to no editing.
Chris closes his apartment door and turns to hang up his coat while slipping out of his boots. His keys clank against the kitchen counter as he stretches and groans in front of the fridge. It has certainly been an interesting last few days at work and he could use something to take off the edge.
He opens the fridge to instinctively grab a cold beer, but his hand hesitates and settles on a bottle of flavored seltzer water instead. He cracks open the plastic lid as he plunks down on his sectional sofa and drinks a few gulps of liquid. There are a few papers and photos strewn out in front of him on the coffee table. He pushes some aside to reveal a photo of Rosemary. His hand runs through his hair with a sigh as his eyes dart to his phone. He swipes it a few times and holds it up to his ear.
"Hey, sorry it's been so long," he grins and chuckles, "no. No beer tonight. I got what you suggested; it's good. Listen, I uh... wanted to ask you something..."
---
"I still don't know why you had to drag me all this way. You know I still have to work on my mid-term paper."
Chris parks the SUV in front of a quaint home with luscious landscaping as he takes off his seat belt, "that's been your excuse for weeks. How much more research can you do on the Spanish Flu?"
"Well, maybe if your guys didn't harass me so much, I could get it done, you know, like a normal person, instead of some freak."
"Hey, come on, you know I don't like it when you talk like that. You're not a freak."
"What other teenager is constantly being lab tested and followed by secret agents everywhere?"
"I know it's not what you want, Rose. But you're not a freak. I've seen my fair share of freaky -- things that would give anyone nightmares. A blonde high school girl has nothing on those 'freaks'. You... you're special, Rose."
"Maybe I don't want to be special. Maybe I just want to be normal."
"Well," Chris sighs, "let's go inside. Maybe you'll feel differently after."
They both walk up to the cozy porch and Chris raps on the painted blue door, "this might give you some interesting insight."
"I don't see how that's possible, unless they survived the Spanish Flu." The girl rolled her eyes.
Chris smirked, "something like that."
---
"Would you like anything to drink? Coffee, tea? Seltzer water?" She shares a knowing smile with Chris, then returns her attention to Rose, "or perhaps something else?"
"I'm good." Rose shifted awkwardly in the overstuffed seat, if her posture allowed, she wished she could fold even further into herself to disappear. A polite but pained smile stretched her lips as her eyes fell to the floor again.
"Coffee, please. You always know how to make it just right, Jill."
"Oh, yes! You can help yourself; just made a fresh pot in the kitchen."
Chris nodded and rose from his seat to disappear into the other room.
"You still have the vanilla creamer?" His voice rang out.
"Yeah, on the fridge door." Jill responded casually, like this conversation had played out a million times before.
An exasperated sound soon followed, "Mrs. Sugardumps has been replaced?!"
A laugh left Jill's throat, "I told you she was getting old! It's in the kitty tin now." She playfully rolled her eyes as the sounds of Chris mourning for an old sugar container could be heard in the background.
She turned back to Rose with a warm smile, "you sure you don't want anything? I have some light sandwiches or other snacks, if you'd like. I just baked some wonderful blueberry lemon scones."
This piqued Rose's interest, "oh! Is that what smells so good?" She pulled herself up to the edge of the seat in anticipation, a shy but pleasant smile finally brightened her expression, "yeah, I'd love to try one." She always had a soft spot in her diet for freshly baked goods.
Jill's face lit up, "certainly!" She popped up in excitement, "let me go get us some! Chris!" She called out and sharply turned just as Chris was returning from the kitchen with a tray, "would you lik-- oh!"
Rose watched as Jill nearly crashed into him, but he quickly maneuvered the tray to his other hand as his free hand balanced her at the waist, "woah! You okay?" He chuckled, "didn't mean to cause an accident."
"Oh! Sorry!" Jill smiled back at him, "ah, I see you couldn't resist." She raised a playful eyebrow.
His brow furrowed slightly as he misinterpreted her words for a moment until he saw her gaze upon the tray, "Oh! Y-yeah!" Rose thought she could see him blush as his hand retreated from Jill’s form. "Love these. Knew you'd be happy to share."
"Like you read my mind."
"Well," Chris placed the tray down on the coffee table, "you're bound to get some things right after knowing someone for 30 years." He quickly turned to Rose, offering her a small plate with a scone, "or... sixteen."
#tenses tensed tensing tensor tensklkadjfdkajd be all jacked up in this fanfic#post RE8#chris redfield#resident evil#rose winters#jill valentine#fanficiton#valenfield
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@colecassiidy bc I bought hard seltzer and thought of Red's joke in the other thread---
It's not a cold can of beer that was cracked open, half finished, and then placed down, facing Cole on the table. The label reads 'Citrus Hard Seltzer' as Red runs the base of his thumb over thin lips, removing anything remaining from his face.
"Finish that for me? Can't drink like I use to after 'the Accident'. Almost raging alcoholic in my late teens, before the 'Biscuit. Have to go halfsies with someone now. Stomach can't stand too much anymore."
And then that smile.
"'Sides, don't seem the kind of man to mind something
a little fruity."
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30 for 30: Not Drinking
I’ve never done dry January for a few reasons. 1) I never even considered it until like three years ago. 2) I like to drink more than most and while I knew I could have a healthier relationship with alcohol, I never saw it as a problem. 3) My birthday is January 16.
But this year, the year I turned 30, I decided to try it, mostly just because I’d never done it before and 30 seemed like a good moment to challenge myself in this way. Could I be comfortable and sociable without God’s lubricant?
The following is a catalog of times I was tempted by the devil’s water.
The Gutter
League bowling was running 30 minutes behind schedule and what was there to do but sit at the bar and order a beer. I sat at the bar. C ordered a seltzer with bitters. It was enough. I was slightly nervous with Daddy because C seemed off and I wanted to attend to her. (I was turned away from her, talking to Daddy).
I was tempted again during the game. I opened strong - two strikes and a spare - but then I slipped. I got frustrated. I wanted to suck on some foam. But I didn’t.
Tuesday
Feeling good with C who came home early after her new painting job. A beer just sounded nice. Instead, I cracked a seltzer and read Mike Davis’ City of Quartz in preparation for our journey to Los Angeles. Davis described the city in turns as a battleground between sunshine and noir, a big angry parking lot and a product of boosters and real estate speculators. I calculated that my thirty days of not drinking would expire while we were on vacation in LA, the day after Valentine’s Day. What would I toast to?
Writing Workshop
I was mildly tempted, or rather, knew I would’ve grabbed beers for Sunday’s workshop reunion in normal times. It’d been seven months since we last met and we felt a bit aimless since no one had work to present. And in that aimlessness, I felt a thirst, something to latch my lips to. I knew the liquid would loosen something inside. I kissed my knuckles and carried on.
The Whale
I was not tempted in the belly of the whale. C made an Indian feast with three boy sous chefs asking, “What can I do?” every few minutes. And after forty minutes of a million dirty dishes we sat down to saag paneer, daal, coconut chutney, rice, naan and samosas to watch The Whale, a movie about a morbidly obese online English instructor trying to reconnect with his very angry daughter of 17.
A Long Week of Quiet Quitting
I took adderall every day except Friday, but I couldn’t bring myself to do a single thing. I had no deadlines, so it wasn’t negligent. But it was definitely irresponsible. Friday was for c and karaoke - my favorite and least favorite things. I’d jabber and jabber but never sing - lips too numb, confidence like a kite in a tornado.
Bowling
My greatest weakness proved to be poor performances at bowling night. My scores slipped dramatically, halved from a 181 to a 92. I’d spent a lot of time calibrating the optimal blood alcohol levels for peak pin destruction and it was 2-4 beers. And here I was, clean as a whistle throwing gutters. You can’t sip water in frustration and smile after. You can’t go “Ahh, refreshing.” So I had a Bornx Pale Ale - forgetting I don’t really like the taste. But my score improved to 141.
Slick’s 30th Birthday
Tonight might be the night, I thought to myself. It was miserably cold and it took an hour and two bus transfers to get there. I got in a squabble with C over dinner and I just wanted to go home or ride my bike. If I was going to the bar, I wanted a beer. I’d all but convinced myself, but then came Slick, the birthday boy, a wonder wall of sweaty exuberance. It was midnight now and we’d been in the basement dancing to DJ Preschool -- a white haired man with as many teeth as fingers and he was missing a finger. I closed my eyes and danced. That’s what alcohol does: closes your eyes. But after an hour of that I wanted something more to keep me going. I told C I might get a beer. She offered a gummy instead. I relayed this to N who laughed and told me had c. “Same,” I said and we saluted.
Then birthday boy Nick bounded up to me. His curly hair was a frizzy halo and I smelled his swea . “Still not drinking, eh? That’s so great man. Really awesome to be out having a a good time and not rely on that. I’m so proud of you.” Little did he know.
Vacation’s Eve
We’re bound for the capitol of capital on the Pacific Rim, leaving the very same on the Eastern Seaboard. It’s Friday and I’m home biding my time. I volunteered to be the pack mule so C could have dinner with her friend whose birthday we’ll miss. I’m tired but I wanted to write all day. Still, I’d rather read right now. I’d love to read with a beer - something to relax. Instead I tap out a line, three lines and here we go. Can’t wait for the subway and to see her parents.
I was bored and agitated. Bored because I was reading for the fifth Friday in a row and agitated because of what I was reading: That damn lefty history of L.A.
Lessons Learned
I learned what it’s like to do c with no alcohol. I felt my face torque, teeth gnash, heart wallop. That awareness felt awful, but it was overpowered by exuberance.
I learned how often I introduce alcohol to situations. I’ve tended to blame my friends - a bunch of hard-drinking cows, but I too am an instigator.
I learned drinking can be saved for social things. I didn’t need a beer at the end of a hard day. I could relax in other ways - like cooking or running or stretching or reading or writing in my diary for fun.
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Chapter 3: The Aftons
Word Count: 1030
CWs: Alcohol consumption, briefly implied child abuse
⛤⛤⛤
Working as a janitor at Fredbear's Family Diner was about what Norman had expected. Busy, sweaty work that subjected him to less than pleasant sights and smells, but at least he was finally starting to feel at home in this less-than-familiar town. Nothing was like it once was when he had visited as a child. Fredbear's certainly hadn't existed, among other things. Friday came before he had even mentally prepared himself for dinner with such an obviously upper-class family.
Standing at the white picket fence and staring up at the gorgeous, light purple house, Norman felt starstruck. A small mansion in his own neighbourhood, and all he had inherited was a fixer-upper. He wore his church clothes, a simple white button-down with thin, black pinstripes, black pants, and loafers. He had seen a nice cardigan in the local thrift store and now kicked himself for not purchasing it. Knowing there was no turning back once he opened the gate, he pressed forward. William's words echoed in his head. You’re too hard on yourself… Trust me.
When he rang the doorbell it seemed to jolt him into the reality of the situation. The door shortly opened and a bony woman with a dishwater blonde bob stood there. She wore a dark red sweater and a knee-length houndstooth skirt, along with a bright, plastic smile.
“You must be Norman, please, come in.”
“Thank you…” Norman stepped into the entryway. Warm lighting and shimmering mahogany reflected in the lens of his glasses. “You must be Mrs. Afton.”
The woman continued smiling as she offered her hand, palm down and displaying a gaudy ruby wedding ring. “Margarete.”
Norman swallowed nervously as he took it and gently shook, making Margarete's expression crack with slight confusion. “Charmed.”
Before abundant awkwardness could take hold, William appeared to Norman's left, much to his relief.
“I see you've met the misses. But this is no place to talk, come, have a pre-dinner drink in the living room.” William briefly squeezed Norman's shoulder, prompting him to move. He nodded and followed, his mind soon catching up with him. She probably expected you to kiss her hand. He shuddered slightly at the thought.
“Cold, Norman?”
“No, I-I'm fine.”
The living room was even more gorgeous than what Norman had seen previously. Every wooden surface was polished, and every fabric appeared plush. A record player in the corner crackled out a faint jazz tune as William busied himself at an ornate liquor cabinet.
“Please, sit.”
“Right.” Norman sat on the far end of their couch and nearly found himself swallowed by it. “What a lovely home…”
“You can thank my wife for that, mostly, though it's an eternal battle to keep her from rearranging the place every month.”
Margarete, who had just joined the two men, scoffed and batted her hand at her husband before settling onto a pale leather ottoman. “He's exaggerating, Norman.”
William hummed. “What can I interest you in, hm? Whiskey? Wine? Champagne?”
“Red or White?”
“Both. I could also make you a cocktail if you'd prefer.”
Norman sighed. “Y'know, I'm such a lightweight…”
“How about a wine spritzer, then? Part wine, part seltzer water.”
“That sounds great, thanks.”
“Margarete?”
“Red wine.” As William prepared the drinks, she set her piercing gaze on Norman. “So, enjoying work?”
Norman opened his mouth to respond, only to be interrupted by the crashing of a back door. “Excuse me one moment.” Margarete swiftly stood, bustling out of the room.
“Expecting someone else?” Norman asked idly. William sighed as quietly as he could.
“Best not to worry about it.”
This confused him, but he didn’t press on.
“Muuum, Evan won't-” A high-pitched voice came whining through the air, accompanied by the presence of a girl in a frilly pink dress. She covered her mouth when she noticed Norman. “I'm sorry, I didn’t realize our guest was here already.”
William perked up, glancing over his shoulder. “Elizabeth. Norman, this is my daughter.”
“Nice to meet you!” The little girl beamed and curtsied, making Norman smile.
“You as well.”
William handed Norman his drink. “There we are, one wine spritzer. Margarete will hopefully be back shortly. In the meantime, Evan won't what, darling?”
“Get ready. He says the sweater you picked out for him tonight is itchy and that he doesn't want to sit next to Michael.”
Just what he needed tonight. His own stubbornness reflected back at him in the actions of his children. “Well, why don’t you tell him he won't be getting any dessert if he isn't down here when I say. I'll… see what I can do about Michael, though even he knows the consequences of behaving indecently in front of our guests.”
Elizabeth nodded before skipping off. Norman quietly sipped his spritzer as William poured himself some whiskey.
“I-I don't mean to criticize your parenting techniques, but don't you think that's a bit harsh?”
“Mmm. If you only knew how my own father treated me, you'd think me a saint, Norman.” William chuckled dryly and raised his glass in a silent toast.
“I'm sorry…”
“No need.”
“I don't know where that boy gets it from!” Margarete seethed as she reentered the living room. “Where’s my wine?”
“Margarete,” William snapped through gritted teeth, staring daggers at her uncouth arrival and hoping Norman wouldn't notice his annoyance with her. He set aside his drink and finished pouring the wine, handing it to her as she resumed her seat on the ottoman.
“Forgive her,” William spoke soothingly to Norman, “our eldest son drives her up a wall. Teenagers.”
“I remember when I was like that,” Norman reminisced. “They get over it eventually.”
“I would sure hope so,” Margarete sniffed, gulping down her wine. William subtly worked to grab her attention, then gestured back to the hall. She nodded and stood.
“Margarete and I need to discuss something alone, do you mind…?”
Norman waved his hand dismissively. “Not at all. I’ll be here when you get back.”
William could almost feel himself getting a toothache from how sweet Norman constantly was. It was a hard thing to realize when he was about to engage in his least favourite subject; talking about his delinquent son.
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Simple Modern Officially Licensed NFL Insulated Stainless Steel Can Coolers and Beer Bottle Holder for Soda and Skinny Seltzers | NFL Gifts for Men, Women, and Father's Day | Ranger Collection
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Price: (as of – Details)
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What are your top three brands of sparkling water? Also, what is a good starter sparkling water?
1. polar seltzer 2. polar seltzer 3. polar seltzer
jokes aside, i also like bubly, dasani, cascade ice, etc. it varies depending on the flavor, but i remember liking those. for people new to sparkling water, sweet sparkling waters like clear american or sparkling ice tends to be easier since it tastes like soda. i personally prefer the non-sweet but still flavorful ones like polar seltzer tho!
#lacroix is fine but it's just......generic yknow?#i'll Drink it and i Have been drinking it since it's the only thing i have#but sometimes i crave polar seltzer like nothing else#crack open a cold one with the lads#anon#ask
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hi ! enhypen smut prompt request ! can i have the reader whos a female say #4 with jake or sunghoon whos a hard dom ?? if u can , can u add how the reader and the partner are enemies who got lots of sexual tension so they kinda trease e/o a lot with words and actions ? u dont have to use that plot but thank u♡
A/N: This is one of my favorite works now lol i hope u like it :) <3
Warnings: unprotected sex, rly brief oral (f recieving), degredation
Word Count: 2.9 k
“But it’s a Tuesday,” you tell Jay while zipping up your backpack.
“So?” he says. “Don’t be lame.”
“I’m not lame, just responsible.” you sing your bag over your shoulder.
“Yeah, that’s lame.” he walks with you to the lunch tables. Jungwon and Heeseung are already there chatting it up.
“You guys are coming right?” Jay asks them and they nod. “See? You gotta come.”
“It’ll be fun noona,” Jungwon says. “And you have to come because Heeseung hyung and Jay hyung are probably gonna leave me for girls.” he rests his head on your shoulder for a moment.
“Why don’t you get yourself some girls too.” you suggest and he shakes his head.
“I’m too shy.” he says quietly and you giggle.
“Alright fine, I’ll go.” you finally say and they all celebrate. “Jake’s not gonna be there right?”
“Uhm,” Heeseung looks over to Jake’s lunch table nervously. “I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so?” you cock an eyebrow.
“He won’t be there,” Jay says. “It’ll be fine.”
You feel someone bump into your shoulder as you walk to history.
“What the hell?” you say and turn around to see who the culprit is. Of course it’s Jake. He shrugs with a half smile. That fucking ass.
After a few more classes you head home and start preparing for the bonfire party. It’s at a beach so you decide to wear your favorite bikini under your shirt and shorts. Your phone begins to buzz and it's a facetime call from Jungwon.
“Hola~” you greet him.
“Hi~” he says. “Can you take me there? My parents are at work.”
“Sure.” you say while putting all of your essentials into a purse.
“Also,” he hesitates. “I think Jake hyung is gonna be there.”
“What? How do you know?”
“I heard him talking about it during p.e.” he says quietly and you groan.
“Fuck, I don’t wanna go anymore.” you say.
“No you have to go, I will die without you.” Jungwon pleads. “It’ll be fun, we'll just stay away from him.”
“It’s gonna be hard to stay away from that giant ego taking up the whole place.” you roll your eyes.
“He’s not that bad noona, he’s actually pretty nice.” Jungwon shrugs.
“Don’t betray me like that,” you scold him. “You’re on my team alright?”
“Okay okay.” he surrenders, giggling.
You pick Jungwon up and give him the aux for the 30 minute drive to the beach.
You guys groove to SZA together.
Jungwon rolls down the window while you're on the highway and sticks his head out like a dog. He kind of is like a dog (in a good way). He’d be a shiba inu.
“Whoooo!!” he screams as the wind whips through his hair, you smile.
When you get there you park your car and get the beach towels from the backseat.
“Did you put sunscreen on?” you as Jungwon and he shakes his head. “Why do you never listen to me?”
You get a bottle of sunscreen out of your purse and rub a dollop on his face. He scrunches his nose.
“It feels like you're rubbing cake batter on me.” he complains.
“You’ll thank me when you’re fifty and you aren’t a wrinkly wreck.” you tell him while spreading it over his cheeks.
“Can we be done now?” he whines and you sigh.
“Fine.”
You two approach the crowd of people suntanning, drinking, playing volleyball, and playing in the ocean.
You drop your stuff next to Heeseung’s and Jay’s before looking around for them. They’re playing volleyball with who on the opposing team? Jake Sim.
Jungwon must’ve noticed you shooting lasers through your eyes because he grabs your arm. “Come on, let’s go swim.” he tugs his t-shirt over his head and jogs over to the water.
You follow suit, only feeling a little self conscious about stripping with Jake Sim only so far away. But it’s only because you don’t want to be vulnerable in front of your worst enemy, right?
Jungwon’s already relaxing among the waves when you get to the shore. “Why’d you go so deep?” you call out to him.
“It’s not that deep,” he says back.
You swim around with him for a bit before forcing him to look for pretty shells with you.
He gasps. “Baby crab!” he rushes to pick it up. “Look.” he holds it up to you.
You try to pet it without freaking it out. “What if it bites you?”
“It won’t, we’re friends.”
The sun is nearly gone by the time you’re done shell searching and swimming so you head over to the bonfire. You wrap a towel around yourself and snuggle up to Jay. He scrunches his nose.
“It’s cold,” you defend yourself.
Heeseung hands you a white claw and you crack it open.
“What are we doing now?” you ask but you can’t hear Heeseung’s answer over the sight of Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, and Niki sitting right across from you. You notice how the bonfire highlights the muscles in Jake’s chest and arms. The warm orange light washing over him makes it look like he’s glowing. Is this what Apollo would’ve looked like? “Huh?” you ask Hee.
“We’re probably just gonna play dumb highschool games.” he says.
You inhale and take a big swig of your seltzer.
“Truth or dare time~” Bree sing songs. “Sunoo truth or dare?”
“Truth,” Sunoo answers.
“Do you have a crush on anyone and if so, who?” she asks and he rolls his eyes.
“I have a crush on myself.” he says confidently.
“Fair enough, you go now.” she says to him.
“Heeseung hyung, truth or dare?” Sunoo asks.
“Dare,” he replies and Sunoo giggles.
“Give your phone to Jay and let him text anyone anything he wants.”
Heeseung groans and throws his head back. “Oh God.”
Jay cackles an evil laugh. “Gimme.”
Heeseung reluctantly hands Jay his phone. “You’re gonna text Sophie aren’t you.”
Sophie Morales, Heeseung ex. They broke up only a month ago after half a year of dating. This was about to be brutal.
“You know me so well.” Jay smiles.
“Please don’t say anything too horrible.” Heeseung pleads.
“Sophie,” Jay narrates his text message. “I miss you and your huge tits. Also I’m sorry for not telling you while we were dating but your feet are really fucking ugly.”
Heeseung buries his head into his hands, laughing. “Fucking Christ.”
“And your breath stinks,” Jay continues. “At least your boobs are nice.”
This is what I get for befriending males. You think to yourself.
“Alright that’s enough.” Heeseung snatches his phone away while everyone giggles. “My turn since I was the victim. y/n, truth or dare?”
“Truth,”
“What’s your biggest regret?”
“Becoming friends with Jay, because he’s insane.”
Jay guffaws. “I’ve been nothing but good to you.”
You roll your eyes.
The game goes on for a bit until it lands on Jungwon.
“Noona, truth or dare?”
You’d usually go for truth, but you didn’t want people to think you were boring. “Dare.”
“I dare you and Jake hyung to talk to each other in private for at least five minutes.” he says, crossing his arms.
Your eyes widen and you look over at Jake, he looks like he wants to drown himself.
“What? Why?” you ask urgently.
“Because I’m tired of you guys hating each other for no reason. Now go.” Jungwon shoos you away.
“Yeah go talk.” Niki says to Jake.
Both of you don’t budge. Jay tugs at your arm. “Come on, Jake and y/n becoming friends!”
The whole group starts chanting. “JAKE AND Y/N BECOMING FRIENDS!”
You had to admit that their enthusiasm was kind of endearing, so you swallow your pride and walk over to the lifeguard tower. You hear him not far behind you.
You climb up the stairs and let your feet hang over the ledge of the patio.
He sits down next to you.
You let a few moments of silence pass before speaking up. “I don’t want to be here as much as you do, so let’s just wait for the five minutes to pass and then go.”
“Damn,” he says. “Do you really hate me that much?”
You roll your eyes. “What do you think?”
“What did I ever do to you?” he scoffs.
“I don’t need to justify my feelings.” you cross your arms.
“Why are you so dense?” he grumbles.
You whip your body over to him. “I’m the dense one?”
“Yeah,” he says proudly. You want to slap the smug look off of his pretty face. Normal face. Slightly, almost, barely good looking face.
“Such a prick,” you mumble, turning away.
“What’d you call me?” he scrunches his eyebrows.
You look him right in the eyes. You never noticed how dark and piercing they were. “A fucking prick. Cause you are one.”
His black hair is still damp and poking into his eyes. His lips are parted and they look so soft that you almost want to kiss him. But he beats you to it.
I should push him away. Push him away you dumbass. You kept telling yourself but you couldn’t do it. His lips felt too good against yours.
Your arms snake around his waist as he lays you onto your back.
You wish you had a hundred hands so you could touch all of him. Two weren’t enough. He feels like silk and he tastes like red velvet.
He pushes your jaw up so he can get to your neck. You exhale as his tongue dances on your skin. He grinds his hips into yours and you let out a small moan. Why are you letting him affect you like this? Idiot.
“I thought you hated me?” he smirks while kissing your chest.
“I do.” you breathe out.
“You sure?” he asks, his fingers traveling down your stomach and into your bikini bottoms.
“Mhm.” you say.
He kisses your collarbone. “People you hate don’t make you wet like this.”
That just makes you throb even more.
“Fuck off,” you say and he backs up.
“Really?” he says. “Because I will.”
You roll your eyes and pull him in by the back of the neck.
“Touch me,” you say and he happily obliges. You knew were in public but it was dark and honestly, you didn’t care.
“Such a slut,” he says while running a finger up and down your slit. “If you wanted me this badly you should’ve said so sooner.”
“I don’t want you asshole.” you breathe out as he circles your clit.
“You just asked me to touch you princess,” he kisses your neck. “I think that’s good evidence.”
You rub your fingers through the back of his hair and tug it back, exposing his neck. He lets out a small moan. You kiss his neck, sucking and nibbling every now and then. When you pull away there’s at least three red blotches that go from his throat to his chest.
“People are gonna see those you know?” he says.
“Whatever.” you roll your eyes.
“Are you marking me or something? Telling everyone that I’m yours?” he boasts.
It’s confusing how your anger is feeding into your lust for him.
“Shut up and fuck me.” you say and he cocks a brow.
“Maybe if you ask nicely,” he kisses your cheek sweetly. You want to wipe it off and slap him in the face.
“Who do you think you are?” you scoff at him.
“Come on dont play with me,” he pushes one finger into you and you moan. “I can tell that you want it.”
It was true. You were practically gushing.
“More,” you say, wanting another finger.
“Where are your manners?” he smirks.
You swallow your pride. “Please?”
“Good girl,” he says and it sends tingles down your spine.
He pulls your bikini bottoms to the side and rubs his thumb up your slit. “Such a pretty cunt.”
Your thighs are already trembling.
“I really thought you’d still be hating me right now.” he says lowly. “Do I make you that weak?”
You snap to your senses for a moment. “Fuck you.”
“I am.” he snickers and you roll your eyes.
“Don’t give me attitude princess.” he warns you with a dangerous smile.
“Or what?” you test him.
“Do you really wanna find out?”
“What do you think you’re intimidating or something?” you ask and he scoffs.
He sits up and grabs your arm. “Get up.”
“What?”
“Get up.” he says sternly and you do.
He grabs your hand, leading you somewhere.
“Where are we going?” you ask, agitated. If you really didn’t want to go you wouldn’t, but you secretly wanted to continue what was going on.
“My car.”
“What? Why?”
“You’ll see.”
“Hey! Where are you going?” Jungwon calls out. “Don’t leave me!”
“I’ll be just a second!” you reply with an unsure smile.
“Backseat.” Jake says as you approach his Mercedes.
So bossy, you think.
You sit in the back seat and before you know it he’s pulling you into his lap.
“Let’s continue shall we?” he says and you don’t waste any time getting your lips on his.
He pushes your hips down onto his and you whimper. You were already so wet and this was just making it worse.
“Please, I can’t wait any longer.” you say, not being able to hold it in.
“For what?” he nips at your neck.
“I need to feel you inside of me.” you plead.
“That’s better.” he tugs his shorts down and pulls your swimsuit to the side.
You grab the base of him before slowly sinking down. “Fuck yes.” you moan in relief.
He fills you up perfectly and his tip brushes your g-spot every time you bounce.
“So fucking tight.” he growls, holding onto your hips tight.
Your legs begin to tremble from the pleasure so he grabs you by the waist and lays you on your back.
He snaps his hips into yours and you whine.
He smirks. “Look at you all spread out for me,” he kisses your neck. “Taking this cock deep inside you.”
Your fingers trail down to rub at your clit. “Please don’t stop.”
He flips you over into doggy and tugs your hair, bringing your ear up to his mouth.
“Tell me how bad you want it.”
“Really bad,” you whimper.
He smacks your ass and you let out a small squeal.
“Touch with yourself while I fuck you.” he lets you go and you rest on the door. Your fingers move to play with your pussy.
His hands are tight on your waist as he pounds into you.
You feel your knees start to give out and your cunt start to pulse around him.
He chuckles. “Are you close sweetheart?”
“Yeah,” you exhale. “Please make me cum, please I need it so bad.”
“Why should I think you deserve it?”
“Please, I can’t hold it any longer.” you say and he stops his movements completely.
He gets close to your ear. “You get to cum when I say so okay?”
You accept defeat. “Okay.”
You start to get more and more flustered as he continues to fuck you just right.
“Fuck Jake I can’t,” you whimper and hold onto the car door for dear life.
He pulls out suddenly and you complain before feeling his tongue on you. Your body tenses up from the pleasure.
“You taste so fucking good,” he says and you arch your back, pushing your pussy into his mouth. He moans against you.
After only a couple circles on your clit with his tongue, you’re ready to come undone. You grab onto his hand.
“Wait wait I’m close,”
And before you can utter another word he slams his cock into you and brings his hand around you to rub your clit.
“Cum on this cock sweetheart, I know you can do it.” he encourages you.
He smiles as your moans get louder and more high pitched.
Your legs start to shake and he grabs you tight. He comes up to your ear. “Be a good girl for me won’t you.”
Your eyes roll back as bliss runs through your entire body. He was probably the best lay you’ve ever had.
Your body goes slack as he cums inside of you.
“Fuck,” he growls and slowly pulls out. He picks you up and holds you in his arms as you try to ride out the trembling.
“How am I supposed to clean up?” you ask.
“Maybe you can swim again?” he jokes and you punch him in the arm. “Do you still hate me?”
“One hundred percent.” you say confidently.
“Are you kidding?” he scoffs. “My kids are in you right now.”
You fake gag and he laughs.
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