#I did not realise til just before I picked this up that it’s by the starship iris writer! (one of the writers?)
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2023 reads // twitter thread
Stars, Hide Your Fires
fun sapphic YA space opera mystery
a girl from a small planet steals from tourists to survive, but still can’t make enough to save her ailing father, learns about a ball for the galaxy’s richest, and sneaks in disguised
but when the emperor is murdered, the station’s locked down she has to find out who the real killer was so she’s not blamed, and ends up working with another imposter - a mysterious rebel - and in their investigations they uncover secrets that could change the fate of the empire
#stars hide your fires#aroaessidhe 2023 reads#this is really fun i enjoyed it a lot!!!#I did not realise til just before I picked this up that it’s by the starship iris writer! (one of the writers?)#I think that helped me anticipate the vibe#definitely high on the witty bickering. i can sense the podcast-writer in the dialogue#which is not a bad thing for me but might not be for everyone#it's not afraid to have some space opera silliness but also some serious about inequality and dissolving empires#natalie naudus audio narration always a win#sapphic books#also queer people everywhere!#and like a language in which I pronoun signifies gender
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" mine only "
✪ Getou Suguru x male reader
✪ warning : possessive Getou , jealousy, rough sex-ish
✪ highschool au
+*:ꔫ:*﹤-----------------------------------------------
Getou felt his eye twitched as he sees how close Gojo and you were getting, the way Gojo was pressing his body against your back when you were on your phone irritated him. Gojo turned to Getou with a teasing smile " you should've introduce me to him earlier we would have make a cute couple no? " Getou's eyes darkened as he heard his best friend teased and stood up abruptly making both Gojo and you jump.
He walked past Gojo and gripped you hand before walking away dragging you with him.
" Suguru..where are we going " you questioned him but he didn't answer you until you and Getou arrived Infront of your dorm. He slammed the door open and entered, as you set foot in your own room he closed the door behind you " Suguru can you let go..it hurts " you whimpered lowly. Getou snapped out of his trance and realised what he just did he quickly soften his grip on your hand and bought your hand to his mouth. " 'm sorry baby.." he muttered then kisses the red marks that was painting your hand. You sighed softly and bought your other hand to his head " Suguru..are you jealous? " Getou stopped whatever he was doing and looked at you before nodding slowly.
" I was jealous how he was close to you..I hated how you two have the same interest I hate how people would think Gojo was your boyfriend and not me..." Getou whispered softly and placed his head on your neck. His hot breath against your neck making your breath hitched , you felt his hands snake around your waist and pulled you closer to him. " It makes me mad that I just want to fuck you so that people would know that you're mine...mine only " you gasped softly as you felt Getou kisses your neck softly. " I want you to scream my name when I fuck you.." Getou's voice deepened as he said that and hoisted your legs onto his waist and kisses you on the lips. The kiss was rough , you moaned as he shoves his tongue into your mouth. He then carries you to your bed and lays you on your back , his eyes was clouded with lust the way he scanned your body as he strips you off your own clothes makes you squirm. " Suguru... " You whispered as your hands unbuttons his uniform Getou let's out a small hum and looks at you. The glint of lust was still there in his eyes you were about to say something but was cut off by your own moan as he presses his finger on your puckered hole.
He chuckled huskily to himself " I haven't even entered and you're already sensitive just wait 'til I fuck you nice and rough... I'll fuck you until you can't even walk " he grinned slyly. He then pushes two of his fingers in scissoring you slowly making you whine " Suguru f-fuck me already ".
" fuck you're so needy...only for me~ " he then proceeds to pull out his fingers, you moaned from the loss of contact. Before you could whine even more he shoved his dick in you and groans. Your tongue lolled out and pupils shaped like heart. You panted softly as you were adjusting to his dick , Getou then starts moving softly.
Soon later he picked up the pace and fucks you faster and rougher,"S-SUGURU-UNGH♡ t-to fast~ " you mewled. His gaze flickered to your face after seeing the lewd expression on your face he felt pride filled in him and kept on thrusting into you. Your dick was being ignored as it was spilling with pre-cum , the only thing that was on your mind right now was you wanted to cum. Your hands slowly made it's way to your dick before you could touch it Getou decided to grab both of your hands and pins it above your head " you're going to cum by my dick only~ " he said while panting hard.
You were about to protest but he suddenly pulls out making you whine , " patient baby.." Getou then turns you over now your ass was perked up exposed to the cold air and your body pressed on the bed sheets.
You now sensitive dick was grazing against the sheets making you moan lowly, " Sugu-NGH..MMNG♡ D-DEEP...a-agh~ " you moaned loudly as he thrusted deep into you again you felt you vision darkened as you cummed. " atta boy..see why jerk off when I can just fuck you nice and rough " you were panting softly as Getou keeps fucking you harder. He spreads your plump ass to see his dick dissapear into your warm and tight hole , he groaned as your walls tightened on his dick. You could feel his pre-cum leaking into your hole " suguru~ p-pleumnh♡ cum in me~ " he grinned darkly as you begged him " whatever my needy boy wants I'll give it to him.." Getou then grips your hip and slams his dick deeper before cumming into you filling you up with his cum.
He then pulls out and you fell onto the bed panting and felt his cum seeping out of you , Getou looks at you leaking hole and smiled feeling proud of himself " rest up baby I'll clean you up " he whispered as he sees you slowly drifting off to sleep.
The next day you , Getou and Gojo were hanging out perusual but now you were clinging onto Getou with a daze look. Gojo sent a smirking look to Getou and whispered to him " looks like you wore him out " Getou scoffed and smiled slyly " It's the best way to show people what's mine " as he says that he pulls on you collar showing the red marks he left when you were asleep.
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Hope this doesn't disappoint teehee :3
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sleepwalking ● 21 | jjk
pairing: jungkook x fem!reader
summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.
genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers
warnings: explicit language, suggestive themes, FLUFF!!, angst, SLOW BURN
words: 16.4k
read from the beginning ○ masterlist
chapter 21 ► love me 'til my heart stops, hit me like a freight truck
You didn’t have the courage to knock on Jungkook’s door when you woke up the next morning. Your mind had sobered enough to recall stumbling into his room after accidentally trying to pick his lock, and you did not want to remember anything else. The rest of the night was blurry anyway, but you deduced easily enough that Jungkook was the reason you woke up smothered under the warm covers.
You wanted to stay in your room for as long as possible, but your headache was so severe that, if divided between people, it could have knocked out a small village for two days. You needed water. Most unfortunately, the hotel had no room service, so you had to find your way out of bed.
The world had finally stopped twirling around you, but that wasn’t a big improvement because other things bothered you now, like the carpet texture under your feet. Or the light that burned your eyes. Or your satin dress, which had felt comfortable last night but scratched you all over this morning.
Lacking the energy to change, you drew the curtains to block out the late morning sunlight and threw on a robe. Then you hesitated in the middle of the room, trying to place your belongings. You thought you remembered having a jacket on yesterday, but as you scanned your room, you couldn’t see it anywhere.
To make matters worse, when you left your room and the door shut behind you with a loud click, you were forced to pause and strain your muscles to stay upright. Every sound felt amplified like a megaphone had been taped directly to your brain.
You took a deep breath and turned the corner towards the stairwell. Your morning got a little brighter just then—you saw Luna cross the corridor, looking almost exactly how you felt. Taehyung was at her side, pushing a water bottle into her exhausted hand as he led her back to their room. He noticed you and immediately shook his head in disapproval, first at you and then at his girlfriend (not for the first time, judging from Luna’s defeated sigh).
Just as you were about to speak up in your defence, you smacked right into something solid and recoiled in surprise.
Jungkook nearly dropped his phone from the impact. He grabbed the railing of the stairs for support and turned around.
“Shit—hi,” he said. “Didn’t expect to see you out of bed so early.”
The feeling was, obviously, mutual as your reluctant mind needed a moment to understand what was happening.
“What are you—why are you just standing here?” you asked, rubbing your forehead with your fingers. You had hit the clasp of his necklace when you walked into him, and the sharp pain began to pirouette around your head again.
“I was on my way downstairs for breakfast,” he said, a hint of amusement threading his every word as he observed your attempts to make sense of your surroundings. “But I wanted to text you first, so I’d know what to bring you.”
“It—thank you,” you replied, softer. Your thoughts had knotted into a jumbled, incomprehensible mess as images of Taehyung and Luna flashed through your mind again. “But I can go down. I think.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. He remembered you saying that last night, right before he’d half-carried you to your room. “Walking isn’t your strong suit when you’re drunk.”
You took a sharp breath. The mention of alcohol seemed to cause an unpleasant swirl in your already upset stomach.
You wondered briefly how noticeable your sudden nausea was, because Jungkook put his phone away and reached for you. You realised right then that you hadn’t even glanced in the mirror before you left your room. You could only imagine the state of last night’s makeup on your face right now.
“It’s clearly not my strong suit now either,” you said. “Sorry I nearly pushed you down the stairs just now.”
“It’s okay,” he said, snickering. One of his hands hovered over your arm in case you were planning to topple over. “Are you sure you should have drunk that much last night, though?”
“Of course I shouldn’t have,” you said, shielding your eyes with a weary hand as curious rays of sunlight filtered through the small windows by the stairs. “But what’s done is done. I think I’ve already embarrassed myself enough by breaking into your room last night, so that’s my punishment. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook said. He took a small step to the left to provide you with a shadow from the sunlight. “You didn’t do anything I haven’t seen before.”
You groaned. “That somehow makes it worse. But serves me right, I guess. I even lost my jacket.”
“You—” his laughter cut him off. You groaned again, only adding to his amusement. “Different shoes and no jacket. Sounds like quite the night.”
You wanted to shake your head but did not dare move it. Instead, you leaned against the wall, seeking additional steadiness that your stiff legs could not provide. Your ankles felt stretched out and twisted around, and the rigid hotel slippers did not help.
“Get something to eat,” Jungkook suggested, noticing your struggle to hold yourself up. “You’ll feel better.”
You closed your eyes. Your stomach was already churning precariously; you weren’t ready to eat yet.
“No, I just need water and I’ll be perfect,” you said. “I’m going—”
“I can bring it to you,” he offered promptly.
“I’ll walk,” you asserted. Then, realising that you were declining his kind intentions and he deserved an explanation, you cleared your throat and gestured around vaguely. “I brought this upon myself, you know? So…”
“So, you should punish yourself for having fun?” he questioned skeptically.
You shrugged. You did feel responsible for your splitting headache. But you also hoped that walking around would help ease your frozen muscles, which was, perhaps, a result of sleeping like a log all night. Although all that drinking and dancing probably added to the pain, too.
“Could you check on Maggie for me, though?” you asked, holding onto the railing nearby to keep your balance because the wall was not enough. The more you blinked, the more your body yearned to recline. “I’ve seen Luna, so I know she’s alive, but I haven’t heard from Mags.”
“Oh, yeah, of course,” he said, pivoting around you. He was evidently prepared to fulfil your request immediately.
You stopped him by placing an unsteady hand on his arm.
“I haven’t forgotten that we—we need to talk,” you said. “And our film.”
Jungkook turned around again. Despite the uncertainty that seemed to boil in his stomach at that thought, he liked hearing this – we need to talk. Our film. He thought he would have liked hearing about you peeling potatoes and parallel parking between two trucks together.
“Oh.” He looked at the small window in the stairwell; the stained glass was thick, but the sunlight behind it was too persistent. “Well—we don’t have to talk or watch anything today. You should—”
“No, no, we will,” you insisted. You said this with no additional pain on your face, and Jungkook took it as a positive sign. “Let me just grab some water, and—”
“I’d prefer it if you got some proper rest first, actually,” he said as you pushed yourself off the wall and paused to catch your breath after the exertion. “I can tell you’re not feeling well.”
You huffed again. Really, an average crow—one of those cawing in the trees outside the hotel—could have recognised that you weren’t feeling well. You wondered if you had enough energy to pretend otherwise.
“I’m—well, I’ll take something for my headache when I get back to my room,” you said. “And, if you wouldn’t mind, I could use a quick nap. And then we—”
“I’ll get us some snacks,” he decided, “so you can come straight to my room after you wake up.”
You managed a grateful smile. “Okay. That sounds perfect.”
He smiled back, and for a minute, the two of you lingered in the warm silence, watching each other as your silhouettes merged into one in the hazy sunlight. Once the realisation dawned that you were just standing here, staring at each other and grinning, the two of you erupted into bashful chuckles and looked away.
A new, unexpected feeling joined the heaviness in your stomach, replacing some of your nausea with a sensation oddly reminiscent of bliss.
“I’m off, then,” Jungkook said, waving his hand towards the corridor. “I’ll check if Maggie’s okay.”
“Thank you,” you said, “I’ll see you later.”
And it really was much later.
When you returned to your room with a water bottle, Jungkook texted you to confirm that Maggie was alive and well, albeit dying of thirst, which he helped her out with. Apparently, she also had your jacket.
Relieved that some of your concerns had already been put to rest, you finished your water, took some ibuprofen, and returned to bed.
And when you woke up, you were understandably startled to discover you had slept for over five hours.
You opened the curtains to get a better idea of the time, but the overcast sky made the hour seem even later than it really was. So you tried another approach and went to the bathroom to wash up, get rid of the pillow creases on your face, and fully wake yourself up.
By the time you knocked on Jungkook’s door, it was almost seven in the evening. You arrived armed with your laptop and dressed in appropriate film night attire: dark joggers and a hoodie. But so much time had passed since your encounter in the stairwell that you wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d found something better to do instead.
Actually, you realised while you waited for the door to open—or not to open—that two weeks ago, Jungkook would have probably gone out with Sid to avoid spending this time alone. But now he opened the door for you, smiling as if you had just made plans and he hadn’t been waiting for you for hours.
“Hey,” he greeted, stepping aside to let you in. “I was just about to check on you.”
“I think I went into a bit of a coma for a while there. Sorry,” you said, walking inside. “And, of course, I’ve got a headache again now because I’ve been asleep for so long. Should we go for something to eat, and maybe—”
You stopped abruptly when you noticed the snacks strewn across his bed—a mound of chocolate-coated dragées, an unnecessarily large fortress of chocolate-chip cookie boxes, and an entire trove of crisps and popcorn. It took you a minute to comprehend it all, and then another minute to come up with a possible explanation as to how he could have got all this; there were no grocery shops within five kilometres of the hotel.
Jungkook closed the door and followed your gaze to his bed.
“Oh,” he said, not responding to your unasked questions. “Maybe it’d be better if you had a proper meal—”
“Are you kidding?” You jumped on the bed with an energy you did not realise you had and reached for one of the brown bags of chocolates, nearly dropping your laptop in excitement. “We’re eating this, and absolutely nothing else.”
Jungkook knew you liked chocolate the most, but he did not want to brag about the three taxis he had to take to eight different shops to get it for you. To be fair, he had not expected your favourite brand to be so hard to find, but he was determined. He would have found the factory and made the chocolate himself if he had to.
“It’s probably not the best choice for breakfast, though,” he said, pulling his phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants. “Even if it’s, uh, seven in the evening.”
You waved away his concerns, your mouth already full of sweets. Smiling, Jungkook sat down on the other side of the bed and pulled out a box of gummy bears that you had overlooked while trying to take in the abundance of snacks.
“So, uh, how did last night go?” he asked as he meticulously picked out the red bears and accidentally scattered the yellow and green ones on the bed.
“You know how it went,” you said. “You probably know more than I do, actually. The last thing I remember is Maggie swiping someone’s feather boa off their neck.”
“Oh, so that—” He stopped picking the gummy bears from the sheets. “Y-you had a feather in your earring when you got back. I was—honestly, I was a little worried that the three of you had robbed a zoo and tried to bring back a peacock or something.”
You snorted. “We might have tried. Did you check my bag for any stray lizards?”
“You didn’t have a bag when you got back.”
You stopped chewing and turned to him. “I—I didn’t have my bag with me?”
Jungkook paused, too. He wasn’t in the right frame of mind to analyse what items you had with you when you showed up on his doorstep last night.
“You had your key,” he said slowly. “And—well, that was it. Are you sure you had your bag with you when you left?”
You tried to piece your fragmented memories together, but your mind struggled to reconstruct the precise sequence of events. You remembered having an umbrella because it had been raining. You also remembered sitting in your bathroom for what felt like half a minute but must have been longer because Luna and Maggie looked a little distraught when they found you there.
You set the candy aside.
“I might have—yeah, I might have left it at the hotel,” you said, realising. “After I talked to my mum.”
Jungkook finished chewing his handful of gummy bears in silence. Each calculated bite seemed to propel him toward a precipice from which there was no return. He hadn’t expected the two of you to get to this point so quickly, even if he was glad you did.
“And how—how’d that go?” he asked.
“Well, it—I mean, we talked,” you said, settling against the headboard of his bed. “She, um—I-I don’t know what I expected her to say, to be honest. I asked her to tell me about her relationship with my dad, and she—well, she certainly did.”
Jungkook took a moment to study the expression on your face, searching for something that he could point out to keep you talking.
“But, uh, you wish she’d said something different?” he ventured when you offered no further explanation.
A measured breath preceded your response. You wanted to explain but finding words proved almost as difficult as confronting your mum about this yesterday.
“I guess I wish it would have made more sense to me,” you finally started. “I had some time to think, and—well, I disagree with almost every single reason my mum had for getting back together with him. But I’ve realised that there’s probably nothing that either of my parents could say that would change my mind. I’m disappointed and angry, and I think I’ve felt this way for a while. I’ve tried not to feel that because it just seemed childish and immature—but I am angry. And that’s fine.”
You lapsed into a silence that Jungkook did not want to disturb. He could tell this was a pause, not a complete stop, and he was too nervous to speak anyway. He was afraid of the parallel between your parents and the two of you—especially in light of everything that Sid was currently sending to his phone.
“I-I mean,” you resumed and Jungkook made an effort to focus on the sound of your voice and not his thoughts, “the way my mum looked at her relationship—honestly, I do think she has a lot of courage. But she, um—she also has—her attitude just seemed a bit reckless. I don’t know. I guess I might never understand why she thought that getting back together with him once wouldn’t already be enough, but that’s—that was her choice. She explained it to me in a way that made sense to her, and I’m grateful she did. But sh-she seems to have blocked out everything that happened after each of their break-ups. She said she was now at peace because she had always listened to her heart. And I’m happy for her, really. But, well, I’m not at peace. This back-and-forth... it brought our whole family nothing but misery, and that does not seem fair to me, or to my brother.”
Jungkook did not think he would ever hear you realise the things he had realised long ago. You had always been so determined to help your mum heal that you’d closed your eyes on your own pain. But it was there. Feelings did not go away just because you wished them to; he knew this well.
And he felt relieved, he realised. No matter what else happened tonight, at least you finally accepted that you had a right to feel wronged.
“Is that why you feel angry?” he asked.
“It... well, mostly, yes,” you said. “Because on top of everything else, this significantly affected how I view my own relationships. I wanted my parents to be happy together. But they just weren’t. And I ended up convincing myself that their unhappiness was universal and inevitable. That anyone who tried to get back together again was bound to fail again. I wanted them to defy these odds, and when they didn’t, I thought no one ever would.”
He toyed with the gummy bear package, and only looked at you for no longer than two seconds.
“But that’s not true,” he said, his voice quiet, tentative.
“It’s not,” you agreed. “I get it now. I may not understand my mum’s choices, but that’s because I didn’t live her life. And that’s exactly it. That’s what helped me come to terms with it all. I got it. My parents’ relationship is not a rule. If anything, it’s an exception.”
Something was glistening on the very edges of his pupils when your eyes met. It struck you that he had been waiting for you to come to this realisation.
“Just because it didn’t work out for them,” you said, looking down, “doesn’t mean it won’t work out for us. That’s, um—that is the main thing, I think.”
Jungkook swallowed. It seemed to him that there were many things to say in response, and he could not find one that he needed. He sort of felt as if he were navigating a field of landmines only visible to himself—but instead of avoiding them, he deliberately tried to step on one. He needed the explosion. He needed you to say something more. But he didn’t know how to get you to say it.
“It’s—that’s good,” he eventually said, because it was all he could manage.
You weighed your next words as your headache doubled and receded in anxious, intensifying waves.
“I’m—I just want you to know that this is still the scariest thing I’ve ever done in my life,” you said. “Which makes me incredibly fortunate on the one hand, because, well, this is nothing. Right? But also it—well, I’m just scared. I don’t think that’s going to go away. I don’t think things will suddenly be better because we decide so. I think it’s going to be something we’ll have to work through.”
“That’s fine, though,” he said right away, and a tired weight heaved itself off your chest and rolled down, relieving an immense pressure inside you. Just like that. “I just want to try again with you. But better this time.”
Your teeth dug into the corner of your lip. You wanted that, too, but you didn’t think labelling it like this was right.
“Trying again,” you said, “implies that, um, we’ve stopped doing something, and now we’re doing it again.”
He gave you a puzzled look. “Right.”
“I—I’m not sure if we ever stopped.”
He took a shaky breath, uncertain if he ever released it or if it would remain trapped somewhere deep inside his throat.
“My mum… uh, she also told me about the songs,” you said and Jungkook looked up as though his conversations with your mum surprised him, too. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”
This was precisely why, Jungkook thought, turning away. Because you could not look at him when you talked about the songs he wrote about you, and he couldn’t look at you, either.
Rubbing the side of his nose, he said, “your mum, uh—she warned me that you might get physically violent.”
There was a sheepish grin tugging at his lips; he was joking.
Still, you shook your head. “But I mean when we were—when we started talking again. Not just at the bar in Oslo. Or at the hotel in Manchester.”
He coughed, feeling the sparkles in his lungs as they caught fire. You remembered, then—not just the two songs, but where you were, and what you were doing when he told you about them.
“Did you want me to tell you about the rest of them?” he asked, finally looking up. “You looked about ready to leap out of the nearest window when I brought it up.”
“I—okay, you’re probably right,” you conceded. “But, uh, my mum mentioned a new song you’re working on.”
Jungkook expected that to happen, but his stomach still churned anxiously as he smoothed the bedding with his palm. “Hmm.”
“Can I hear it?” you asked.
He brought his hand to the back of his neck. “Are you sure you want to?”
“Yes.”
He looked at you again, searching for a stronger confirmation in your eyes—and finding it there. He slowly rose from the bed and pulled out his phone from his pocket.
“It’s—I think it’s the most personal song I’ve ever written,” he said, and you held your breath. “Your mum warned me about it, which she’s never done before. Usually, she just gives me permission to release the song and sometimes offers a compliment.”
“She didn’t like it this time?” you asked while he unlocked his phone.
“No, she said she liked it a lot,” he replied, placing his phone on the bed. The screen displayed various voice notes: some with gibberish titles, others numbered. The newest one was labelled, PUDDLE_FINAL11. “But she also said that this is a song I should run by you first.”
You crossed your legs on the bed and hesitated awkwardly for a second—unsure if you could really listen to the song and sit still. Then, you leaned back against the headboard and closed your eyes.
“Let me hear it.”
Jungkook watched you get comfortable and bit his lip. He knew this was what you did when you were nervous or excited—crossing your legs on the couch when the film you two were watching got to the most interesting part; crossing them on the chair in the library when you were studying for final exams, crossing them on the passenger seat in his car when you were on road trips, playing Guess The Song (he always won, which he took great pride in).
“This is, um, the song that I told you I was writing in Oslo,” he said. Your heart was racing just like it had back then. “It’s what the band and I are working on right now. Yoongi, uh—he’s the one who’s working through the tone and the instruments, and—well, that stuff. I’m just kind of there to sing and look pretty.”
You opened your eyes again to give him a look. “You wrote the lyrics.”
“I—yeah, okay. And I wrote the lyrics.” He took a deep breath. “This is—it’s still a demo, though, so—you know. Keep an open mind.”
You froze as soon as he pressed “play” on the voice note. This appeared to be the eleventh version of the song, as indicated by the number at the end of the title.
The recording began with soft, but quick guitar chords. The song was not slow-paced and seemed much more postcore than the band’s usual music. Even though his guitar was the only instrument accompanying his hesitant but clear voice, you could easily imagine an overlay of drums and bass.
How I run when my phone lights up with a text /
My friends all know, “is that your ex?” /
They said I bet you want her, bet you love her, bet you can’t forget /
I don’t remember why I lied, why I agreed, why I made the bet
You turned to look at Jungkook, your eyes filled with graphic surprise, but he was staring at his phone, his lower lip trapped between his teeth. He was tugging on it so forcefully that his lip ring strained against his skin.
The music shifted into a rhythmic bridge—Jungkook had stopped strumming and began to tap the body of the guitar instead, mimicking the beat of Hoseok’s drums.
This feels like a disease I suffer /
Might break just thinking of her /
Can’t breathe, cannot recover /
I love her, I fucking love her
“The chorus is next, and—” Jungkook cut in over the music, “—it’s very simple, but it’s not done yet. It should still sound better with Yoongi’s guitar, and all the rest.”
Immediately, he returned to his own guitar in the recording, the chords rapid and eager as he sang—his voice louder, more forced, emanating from deep within his diaphragm as the song reached the chorus:
I can’t look you in the eyes /
When all I say are these stupid lies /
The memories of when you were mine /
Are playing in my tired mind /
Scared to fail, so I’d rather get high /
Yeah, but I have to stand up and try
The song slowed for the exit of the chorus and Jungkook sang it to complete silence:
And this is nothing fucking new, /
I’ve always been in love with you
You sucked in a breath and closed your eyes again. If your heart hadn’t been pounding so intensely, you might have been able to envision what the musical break that followed after the chorus would sound like once it was accompanied by Taehyung’s bass.
Before you could try to calm yourself, however, Jungkook began the second verse on the recording:
How I miss you and this feeling is all that inspires /
How this pain shifts, grows, how it turns into fires /
It will burn when I write, when I think, when I sing /
Flames will turn to ashes, turn to words, turn to ink
Right as the chorus started again—his voice growing more passionate as he lost himself in the song—Jungkook cleared his throat and commented over the recording, “I wrote that part in Oslo. While—after I asked you to come meet me at the bar.”
You nodded—or thought you nodded; all movement felt surreal right now—and listened in silence.
“The refrain,” Jungkook spoke again as the second chorus ended and the music began to speed up, “is my favourite part. It’s kind of pop-punk, largely inspired by blink-182, but it’s also just… it’s a way to get it all out.”
As soon as he finished talking, you heard the refrain on the recording—his words were rushed, the music barely catching up.
Biffy Clyro at a wedding, but we dance on separate floors /
Hotel bathrooms and champagne, we’re hiding there with open doors /
Years ago before I saw you, I was lost without a cause /
You changed my life from the first time that our paths had crossed /
I knew about you way before, I didn’t think this through /
I walked up to you after class, because our meeting’s overdue /
Years later we’re in Paris, I looked around and knew – /
It was always you, it was always you, it was always you
You focused on the screen of his phone as the song played and you did not dare to move—not even when the final chorus finished, and he reached over to stop the recording.
He asked, “what did you think?” and you realised that your mind was as silent as this room once the song ended.
You felt lost in the echoing recesses of your mind. There were so many things in your head and at the same time, there weren’t any at all. Because everything—from the first time he introduced himself to you after class, to Chloé and Kihyun’s wedding in Paris, to the bet he’d made with Sid and Jude—had just been said.
“I… think you are insane,” you said, glancing at him. “And also incredibly talented to manage to put all of that into a—into one song.”
“Yeah?” A satisfied grin was playing on his lips and you couldn’t take your eyes off it. “Did you like it?”
You shook your head, because this was too feeble—like. Sitting on his bed in this room, you doubted if you had ever simply liked anything when it came to Jungkook. Every emotion you felt for him had always been so much more intense and infinitely deeper.
“It’s—fuck, it’s a great song,” you said, tapping your palm against the bed. Jungkook recognised the beat and felt his heart soar. The whole room seemed to brighten, not at all threatened by the darkness outside the window. “It sounded good. The rhythm—it’s really good. I can see it becoming a crowd favourite.”
“Thanks,” he said but did not relent. In all the crowds in the world, he was going to search for you. “But what did you think?”
Watching him watch you, you said awkwardly, “I liked your voice.”
He laughed, finding the real compliment in your flustered expression and your struggle to answer his question directly.
“Alright,” he said. “I’ll take it.”
“Was this the song you played for Yoongi and Namjoon that time?” you asked, so you could avoid giving feedback about the way he captured your whole life in his lyrics, and now your heartbeat matched the rhythm of the song. “W-when Yoongi came to talk to me, worried about you?”
Jungkook still nursed a bitterness about Yoongi’s initial reaction to the song and pursed his lips.
“Yeah, um—at the time, I only had the second verse,” he said. “That’s probably why he was concerned.”
“Well,” you dropped a pillow onto your lap, “it doesn’t sound like a heartbreak anthem.”
He snorted. “I hope not.”
You did not say anything else for a while.
You were not in control of anything that was happening inside of you right now, so this was the best you could offer. A big part of your brain was preoccupied with keeping you seated on your side of the bed instead of reaching—lunging—for him, and an even bigger part was still processing the song he had just played. This left you with very little strength to be eloquent.
You liked the song. You liked his voice. You were worried the fire inside your chest would do irreparable damage to your heart. You wondered what went on in your mum’s head when she heard it.
“I can’t believe you sent that to my mum, though,” you voiced your latest thought. “The whole thing?”
“Yeah,” he said with a shrug because getting feedback from your mum had become a regular practice. He had continued to reach out to her even after you started to manage Rated Riot.
“With the curses and everything?” you asked, your nose scrunched.
He laughed again. You looked so beautiful like this, analysing his lyrics in your head. He didn’t know what to do with himself.
“She knows I curse,” he said. “She’s read most of my lyrics. Also, I am twenty-six.”
“Still,” you muttered. “There’s so much—you, um—you mention the bet in the song.”
His expression grew serious.
“Yeah. One of the first times I texted your mum, I…” he paused here, tracing his fingers lightly over his eyelids. “Well, actually, I was drunk, so I mostly remember this from the screenshots I took. I asked her if I could write a song that would bring you back to me. I was really—well, drunk and, you know. Sentimental. And she said—and I actually remember this part, because, somehow, no one else thought to say this to me—she said that I could, but I had to be honest in my lyrics.”
He fell silent, but it didn’t feel like an invitation for you to respond.
Looking up at you after a minute, Jungkook continued, “every song I wrote about you was honest. I meant every single word in every single verse. And I was hoping one of them would bring you back.”
It began as a faint buzzing in your chest and escalated into a gentle whisper, then erupted into a loud scream, filled with all the longing that’s been there all this time—mostly dormant, but restless. This longing wasn’t buried under mundane, daily tasks, it just existed right there in your chest, pushing sharply into your heart every time you thought you forgot, thought you moved on.
Every time you looked at him, every time you remembered him, every time you fell asleep, the longing was there, and it was growing, always growing—even more rapidly now that you and Jungkook began to spend more time together. By now, it had grown far larger than your chest could hold. And it was screaming.
“I’m—I don’t—I’m not sure I was ever really gone,” you confessed. “I think I... I actually called my mum with a decision already made. And I just needed her to say it was going to be okay. Because, you know. She’s my mum.”
There it was—the explosion he’d been waiting for. He could see the clouds in the distance but he hadn’t felt the impact yet.
“W-what’s your decision?” he asked.
“I want to try,” you said. “If you—if you’d—”
“I swear to God,” he interjected, his voice gaining volume as his heart rate gained speed. “If you're going to ask me if I want to be with you, I’m not sure I’ll make it.”
A smile flickered across your features, but you clutched the bedsheets underneath you tighter to control your expression.
“Let’s give this a chance,” Jungkook said, echoing everything that your heart demanded from you. “I know you’re scared of what this could mean for your job, and—”
“No,” you cut him off. “That—what happens with my job, happens. That feels—it feels like something we can figure out. But I want to try, and that’s what’s scary. Because this isn’t something we can solve, we either work out or we don’t. And I’m scared I won’t always be able to overcome my fear that we might not work. I’m scared I’ll still try to run away from everything.”
“I’ll find you,” he said, and your heart threatened to stop. “I’ll always find you.”
“You shouldn’t have to, though,” you protested weakly. “That’s not fair.”
“My love,” he said, sliding closer to you on the bed. You felt very light-headed. “Anything’s fair to me when it comes to you. Stay and let me make you happy.”
It was remarkable how his hotel bed managed to fit both of you and all that you’d carried inside you for all these years.
You shook your head.
“I’m happy,” you said. “This is right where I’ve always wanted to be. I’m not going anywhere.”
Jungkook looked at you, and he felt like he was nineteen again, watching you from across the campus quad. Thoughts of how to approach you—how to talk to you; how to look at you—were running rampant in his overstimulated mind. He had just left Sociology class where he’d doodled and daydreamed about you the whole time and now that he had a chance to talk to you, his legs had turned to stone.
He knew you liked Hayao Miyazaki, and he thought, alright, he would lead with that. And then in a frantic attempt to explain his determined stride towards you with a murderous expression on his face, he had ended up introducing himself as Neighbour Totoro.
Your smile in response should have been plastered on billboards; and was, on billboards, actually—all over the canyons of his mind. All he could do after that was just stammer about seeing you around campus, noticing that you shared a few classes together, finding it really cute when you dozed off during your professor’s philosophical rants, and wishing very much that the earth would open up and swallow him whole because what the fuck was he saying to you right now—and you’d smiled again. And the stones in his legs had melted.
You gave him your phone number and invited him to a party that someone on your floor was throwing that Friday. And you’d said, “I think it’d be really cool if you came,” but all that he could hear had been the violent pounding in his chest.
His heart pounded just as intensely now.
“Yeah?” he asked you, breathless and half-drunk as the rest of his hotel room drowned in your eyes.
He thought he could feel the earth move. He thought he could will it to stop, to pause for just a split second until you replied and he could—
“Yeah.”
He had arrived at that party back then, and you had found him right away. You’d spent the whole night talking until he finally mustered up the courage to ask you to hang out alone sometime. Maybe watch a film and have dinner? And you’d said yes.
You’d said yes seven years ago, and now you were here – saying yes, again.
Jungkook reached for you so quickly that you barely noticed the smile on his face, let alone the one on yours. His hands were soft on your cheek as he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a clumsy kiss—but your mouths needed less than a second to find a familiar rhythm.
His tongue met yours, and he tasted like the memory of every time you’d kissed him before and a promise of every time you’d kiss him in the future. He tasted like everything you’ve ever wanted and everything you thought you’d lost.
“Did you know,” he whispered, his words punctuated by heavy breaths and your lips smacking against each other, “that I dreamt about you—on the night before you showed up at the company—as our manager—?”
You pulled back slightly to be able to look at him, your lips parted in a surprised smile. “No. What did you dream about?”
“This, actually,” he said, kissing you once more and frowning when you pulled back again, waiting for him to explain. “Except neither one of us pulled away.” He paused here, looking at you very meaningfully. You pressed another kiss to his lips and he grinned, continuing finally, “I hadn’t dreamt of you in months, and I woke up from a text message in the middle of kissing you in that dream. I was obviously pissed. I looked at the text, and it was from Yoongi. He was saying, ‘we’re meeting our manager today, don’t be late’ or something like that. And I remembered debating just going back to sleep. But I forced myself out of bed, thinking that this manager better be worth it.”
Your smile was absurd. “Was she?”
He nodded, tracing his fingers down your neck to your collarbones, and bringing goosebumps to the surface of your skin.
“She was,” he said.
“You didn’t say one word to me throughout that whole meeting, though,” you pointed out.
Jungkook shrugged.
“I hadn’t seen you in two years,” he said. “I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, I would tell you how long I’d been waiting for you.”
You did not feel yourself respond with a defeated, breathless, “oh,” but Jungkook smiled when he heard it.
“Yeah,” he said, leaning in. “Hardly professional.”
“Mmhm—” your hum drowned in his kiss. “Hardly.”
There was something artificially sweet on his tongue when you kissed him back—likely from the gummy bears—and it made your hands instinctively reach for his shirt, pulling him closer. He wondered if you noticed the way his heart rate quickened at that; he found your need for him exhilarating.
You kissed him harder and remembered all your stolen kisses throughout this tour. This did not feel anything like it.
This kiss was not hurried—not until the five minutes you’ve allotted yourselves were up. It wasn’t secret—not until you had to leave your hotel room in Amsterdam. It wasn’t pretend—not until you had to admit to yourselves that you weren’t and could not be friends. And it wasn’t a dream, either—not until one of you had to wake up and realise that this had just been your subconsciousness, refusing to let go. To move on.
The kiss was slow. It was not rushed, and not hidden. It was true, and it was real.
Your heart finally returned home.
Then, Jungkook slowly pulled away, his pupils dilated and filled with something distracting that lingered on his mind.
“You didn’t say anything to me, either,” he said slowly. “When we started to work together, I mean.”
“I know,” you replied, letting go of him. It did not feel fair to touch him when he said that, but Jungkook felt lost for a moment after you pulled back your hands. “I wasn’t sure if I should.”
“Hmm.” He needed to find the string attached to the words he’d kept inside, and he needed to pull them out, but he could only do that by looking away. “I, uh—I get that now, but back then, I felt very, um—well, left-out, I guess. For lack of a better word. You talked to everyone else but me.”
You were struck by the immediacy and the clarity of these memories: how you’d made a deliberate effort not to talk to him unless it was necessary, because that was the only way you could stay professional. In hindsight, that should have probably been a hint. If you had to go to such lengths to avoid someone in order to remain professional, it likely meant you weren’t truly professional, just pretending to be.
“I know,” you said. “I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s—well, I could have said something, too,” Jungkook said. “But after a while, it seemed to me like we’d silently agreed to just ignore our relationship, so it didn’t feel right to bring it up again. I didn’t want to make things awkward.”
Your smile broke through the sombre atmosphere in the room. You couldn’t listen to this without pointing out his reactions to you in those first few days. Jungkook had been very loud about doubting your authority.
“You used to complain about me all the time in the beginning,” you reminded him. “You said you wouldn’t take orders from a kid.”
He grinned, remembering, too.
“Well, I had to say that,” he defended, a glint of mischief in his eye. Age had been his favourite argument against working with you. “How else could I hide that I still had feelings for you?
You looked away—he expected this, and his smile grew wider. You thought you had him there. But he knew that in all the years you’ve known each other, you could not find a moment where he didn’t love you. He couldn’t find one himself.
“Maggie told me you were the one who told her we had dated,” you said then.
Jungkook did not immediately remember. “I did?”
“Yeah,” you confirmed. “We were all drinking together, and you—”
“Oh, yeah,” he cut in, nodding. He recalled Maggie responding to him as though he’d told her he was an escaped convict. “In the parking lot. I don’t think she believed me at first, actually. I was very good at acting unbothered.”
You arched an eyebrow. “She said she came to check on you because Hoseok noticed that you seemed bothered.”
Jungkook clicked his tongue. “Well, Hoseok notices these things. It doesn’t count.”
You grinned, shaking your head.
Jungkook, meanwhile, remembered something else now that you’d mentioned Maggie. It was something he’d held close to his heart for years, and he was hesitant to bring it up now. He knew it was probably not real, but he held onto the ignorant hope that it might be.
“Did you… tell anyone on the staff?” he asked.
“Hm? About us?” you clarified.
He nodded.
“Just the band,” you said.
“Oh.” He held his breath as he considered how to explain this, and how to brace himself for your response. “Because, um—well, apparently, Maggie spoke to Jin after I talked to her. And then Jin talked to Jimin. And Jimin told me that he thought I just had a crush on you.”
“A year ago?” you clarified, a little uneasy about the timeline.
The girls had tried to reassure you last night that you and Jungkook were really not that obvious—but perhaps the truth was that you had wasted all these years just like you feared.
You put unnecessary strain on your heart because you’d convinced yourself that this was how things were meant to be. You’d convinced yourself that Jungkook really did not love you anymore. And when you realised that maybe he still did, you’d convinced yourself that second chances did not work, and it was better to suffer through the initial break-up for years rather than attempt to try again.
“Yeah.” Jungkook swallowed, getting to his point. “And, um—a while after that, Namjoon said he thought you might have a crush on me.”
You blinked, feeling your heart leap into a thrilled dance, each beat a self-assured I told you so.
“Namjoon said that?” you asked weakly.
“Yeah,” he said, keeping his eyes on you. “We were both drunk, trying to work on a song, and not doing so well. I was upset about something that day, so I thought he was just saying that to comfort me. Cheer me up. He said he noticed you staring at me during our meeting earlier that day. He said he thought it was meaningful. Said you didn’t seem to just be dozing off.”
I told you so—
I told you so—
I told you—
You remembered that meeting.
You remembered looking away from Jungkook and meeting Namjoon’s raised eyebrows. You hadn’t realised you’d been staring. But he had.
Right now, in the hotel room, you did not say anything, but Jungkook felt the bubble of hope swell in his chest, straining as it threatened to explode.
It was true, then.
You had been watching him during that meeting. So much so that it led Namjoon—a very smart, but arguably the most oblivious man in the country—to notice that something was going on.
You cleared your throat. “Did he—uh, did he know about—”
“He knew I was writing about you,” Jungkook replied. “The second he yelled at me and told me to stop writing about abstract feelings and start writing from my own chest, I pulled out three different songs for him. He always knew.”
“Hmm.”
A moment of silence followed, allowing the two of you to simmer in the sounds coming from your chests.
You thought you were trying very hard to ignore him and focus on your job, and you did, really. Especially when you first started to work together. But gradually, the less you talked about your relationship to each other, the more your suppressed feelings made themselves known: it was the way you always happened to stand next to each other at the label events. It was the way Jungkook was the only one who remembered where your office was in the labyrinth of corridors at the company building. It was the way you looked at him when you talked to him. It was the way he teased you at every chance he got.
“So, the roadies thought you were dating Namjoon,” Jungkook concluded, “while Jimin thought I liked you, and Namjoon thought you liked me.”
“Yeah. Apparently, we’re all twelve,” you said. “I love how that’s ongoing, too. We’re still a very hot topic.”
Jungkook chuckled, seemingly as entertained about this as Seokjin had been when he mentioned the bets the staff had going about the two of you.
“I know,” he said, trying to restrain his reaction for your sake. “But it—it’s just us. You know? We’re the only ones who really know about us. You and me. And about fifty people on this tour with us, but that’s—well, who cares?”
“Yeah,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “Not a big deal.”
He heard the sarcasm in your tone, but he still grinned. “Yeah.”
You looked down and brought your hands over your sweatpants, and his smile faded. He seemed to react to your next words before you even said them.
“I’ll have to, um—I’ll have to talk to the label about us,” you said. “I’ll have to tell them.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Another silence stole away any remaining words. Jungkook wondered if the two of you were really as powerful as he’d imagined. He wondered if you had the authority to decide what you’d do.
“What do you think they’ll say?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” you replied. There was a calmness in your voice that he wasn’t expecting. “We’ll see.”
“Should I—should I talk to them with you?” he suggested—and realised right away that this would not work.
“Probably not,” you replied gently. “It’ll feel a little like we’re talking to our parents. And not, you know, our employers.”
“Right.”
You glanced at him and realised that he appeared more worried than you felt. You thought that perhaps this was how it was between you two: one of you panicked while the other stayed level-headed to provide reassurance.
“It’ll be fine,” you said. “We got so far, right?”
“Yeah,” he said, chewing on his bottom lip. “But, I mean, what if they say this can’t happen?”
“Well, then we break up, of course.”
He gave you a long, questioning look. “I’m serious.”
“I am, too,” you replied, not serious at all.
He rolled his eyes. “Oh, now you want to joke about it. Okay.”
You laughed, and immediately made him smile, too. Leaning into him—almost reflexively—you placed a hand on his chest and gently pulled him down onto the bed until the two of you were lying face-to-face. Finally, he laughed, too.
The truth was, you felt nervous as well. But some innate balance required you to look on the bright side when he couldn’t. Surely, if you overcame yourselves, you could overcome external hurdles, too.
“I’m not joking,” you said. “It’ll be fine. We, um—we know our issues now. I think we can figure out what we should do no matter what happens. We’ve grown.”
Jungkook looked at you for a minute, then finally exhaled and reached out to touch your cheek.
“Alright,” he said, the tips of his fingers careful as they traced over the side of your jaw. “We have. We used to never talk to each other.”
“Yeah, that had always been the core problem with us,” you agreed, leaning into his touch and singlehandedly stopping his heart for a dangerous minute.
The two of you found it very easy to point out your flaws now—like teachers marking all the issues in a student’s essay: lack of communication, toxic friendships, parental trauma.
“None of that now?” Jungkook asked.
“None of that now,” you agreed, closing your eyes.
You felt him scoot closer to you on the bed as his palm replaced the tips of his fingers on your cheek.
“I’m not going to shut up about how much I love you, though,” he whispered.
You looked at him again, and your smile stretched from one corner of his hotel room to the other.
“I’ll take that over silence,” you said.
He responded with a shuddered breath and moved closer. His lips found yours blindly, but effortlessly. His kiss was soft, slow, and lingering because now you had all the time in the world and he was determined to savour every moment.
Pulling back slightly, he brought his nose to yours, and the air you exhaled as you chuckled softly made him close his eyes again. He kissed your cheek and the corner of your lips and the edge of your jaw, and somewhere along the way, he realised that he had wanted to say something else but now he forgot all about it. He kissed your lips once more instead. Then twice more—until you were smiling too much for the kiss to feel like anything other than a gentle peck.
He settled back on the bed next to you. He was so close that you could barely look at him without your eyes going out of focus. And he was beautiful like this—his hair falling in loose, messy curls around his face, his eyes alive with an energy so powerful that you could not look away from him once your gazes met. His lips were parted as he breathed steadily, running his tongue over his lower lip.
You watched each other just like you had earlier in the corridor, with the tips of your fingers locked onto each other’s skin as though transferring electricity from one heart to the other, and back again.
“I’m sorry I did not want to talk about our relationship,” you finally admitted, your voice a timid whisper. “I thought the safe choice would be to speak to you one-on-one as little as possible. And after a few months, it became easier to be in the same room with you without my hands shaking, and my heart—well, anyway. I didn’t want to ruin what little stability we had with each other. Even though for a long time—maybe even the whole time, I don’t know anymore—we were there, in the back of my mind.”
He exhaled. “We could have talked about us before.”
“We should have talked about us before,” you corrected.
“Right.” He rolled onto his back. “Instead, I drank three bars into bankruptcy in those first few months after you started working with us.”
He remembered Sid’s messages as soon as he said this, and for a brief, irrational moment, he waited for you to stand up and leave the room. Instead, he was startled when he saw you smile out of the corner of his eye.
“I know,” you said softly. “I was asked to pay off your debt at one of them.”
He turned to face you, his eyes wide. “No—w-were you really?”
“Yeah,” you said. “Sid called and gave me an ultimatum: either I came to pay for your bill or the bar owner was going to call the police on you.”
Jungkook had to really concentrate to remember anything, and he quickly felt embarrassed that he even tried. He could not remember his own name, that was how drunk he would get in those days. He couldn’t bring them back to his memory now, no matter how much he tried.
“Where was Sid, then?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” you replied. “Probably tripping on something in a random hotel. He never called me if he was still with you.”
Jungkook swallowed, his thoughts racing.
“Well, I mean—shit,” he said. “How much do I owe you?”
“You don’t,” you replied. “I came to the bar and told the owner your name was Isidore Mercer-Hastings, and that they should contact the police to settle the bill for whatever you drank that night.”
Jungkook raised his eyebrows. He thought he lacked Sid’s perpetual sneer to pass as someone from a conglomerate family.
“They believed it?” he asked.
“Well, they didn’t know who you were,” you said. “And it was resolved very quietly after that. I doubt the bar owner even managed to write a report after he mentioned the name at the station.”
“Someone in Sid’s family must have handled it,” Jungkook speculated. You thought so as well. “Sid never said anything.”
“I don’t think he expected me to fight back, actually,” you said. “In any case, I paid the price. After that, he started leaving you in all kinds of shitholes for me to find a lot more frequently.”
Jungkook realised that a ball had formed in his throat.
“I-I didn’t even notice it,” he admitted. “He—he had me by the throat, and I thought he just wanted to hang out with me.”
You didn’t want the topic to shift to Sid, but it felt inevitable. He was the additional burden on your relationship, he always had been.
“And he’s in London now,” you said, sighing.
Jungkook exhaled, too. “Yeah.”
“What are we going to do?”
He looked at you for only a moment, but his eyes were filled with an unexpected alarm.
“I’m—well, nothing?” he said. “I don’t know.”
“But—I mean, he has to be here for you, right?” you questioned.
Jungkook’s phone weighed heavily in his pocket.
“He probably is,” he said.
“So, he stalked you all the way to London,” you noted. “I think we should start considering the possibility of you getting a restraining order against him, or—”
Jungkook whipped his head to face you. “Isn’t that—uh, a bit dramatic?”
Frowning, you propped yourself up on your elbows and turned to him. “He is stalking you, Jungkook.”
He looked away and brought his finger over the bedsheets. If Sid had sent him only that one video, perhaps Jungkook could have handled it quietly. But Sid had kept them coming.
And Jungkook had already tried it before: this method of not telling you and hoping to find a way out of a predicament that he’d allowed Sid to put him in. It hadn’t been successful. He had no intention of trying it again.
“To be honest,” he said, sitting up, “that is not the only thing he is doing.”
Your stomach clenched with something it had come to know very well over the past few days – pure dread.
“What do you mean?” you asked.
“He, um—he’s sending me things.”
“Oh, God.” You turned away from him, groaning. “Don’t tell me he’s sending you the body parts of people he’s stalked before.”
“N-no, that—no,” Jungkook said and then paused to snicker at the thought. “He’s just—he’s sending me videos.”
You did not feel relieved. The way he said it made it sound like it was not just videos. It sounded like it might as well have been severed limbs.
“What videos?” you asked reluctantly.
He hesitated before answering, hoping—almost irrationally—that he would find a way to summarise the videos for you in a way that would diminish their significance. But he was worried he’d make it worse instead. He didn’t want to casually mention them or act like it was not a big deal, only to hear your negative response. You’d think he was still incapable of realising what he was doing, you’d think he hadn’t changed—and he had. He was sure he had. But his hands were shaking as he tugged on the bedsheets and refused to look at you.
“Of—of me,” he finally admitted. “Of us hanging out together before this tour.”
“Oh.”
He did not like the thickness of the silence around you. He didn’t want this to turn into yet another problem. And it wasn’t—it was a continuous problem that he’d willingly brought on this tour.
Jungkook couldn’t stop blaming himself for everything he did with Sid, and now he was convinced that his guilt wouldn’t even make a difference. He’d tell you about this, and the videos would be too much, and he would not be enough.
You’d warned him you were afraid; he didn’t want to add more doubts to what already seemed like a hesitant decision. Of course, he believed in your relationship too much to think that you were willing to try again just for his benefit. He believed you wanted this, too. But he was also rational enough to understand that you couldn’t just wish for your relationship to work out this time, and it simply would. You had to work on that. And he was sure that these videos would hinder the progress you’ve already made.
He decided he didn’t want to talk to you about this as though he needed your help solving this issue. He wanted to tell you about it with a solution already in his mind.
“T-they’re not good,” he added. “But I—”
“Why is he sending them to you?” you interrupted.
He paused, rearranging his thoughts. He wondered if you were intentionally avoiding asking him to show you the videos, or if you did not want to see them. He was not sure which option he preferred.
“He’s, um, threatening to show them to you,” he said.
“Unless you do what?”
“Unless—” He paused again. “I—I don’t know, actually. I don’t think he wants me to do anything. He’s just taunting me. I tried to block the number, but I assume he has multiple disposable SIM cards or something because I keep—well, different unknown numbers keep sending me videos from the same… situations.”
You looked away, absentmindedly patting the pillows on the bed.
You were certain that Sid had a goal in mind, he just hadn’t told Jungkook about it yet.
“Well, what’s in those videos?” you asked.
Jungkook shut his eyes. He was sure of it now—he would have preferred it if you hadn’t asked about the contents of the videos, after all.
“We’re—we’re drunk in all of them,” he said, his tongue catching on the dryness of his mouth. “Just doing dumb shit. Shit that I thought I left in the past. I know I left it in the past, I’m just—but with Sid pulling it all out now, it feels like—it feels like I’m still there.”
You frowned, puzzled.
“But you’re not still there,” you pointed out.
“I’m not,” Jungkook said, but his voice sounded distant. “But it—you were always the one who made sure that Sid and I didn’t damage the band’s reputation, or—well, anything else. I’m sorry about that, by the way. I-I don’t want you to think that all that you’ve done was in vain, and I don’t want you to think I’m still the same—I know I’m not—but it feels like—”
“Jungkook,” you said, cutting him off by placing your hand on his shoulder.
His distress reminded you of the night he told you that Sid was in Manchester with you. He was breathing heavily, barely able to choose his words. He thought, clearly, that you were going to blame him for this. He thought he’d let you down.
“Show me,” you asked.
And he showed you—because he knew he had to. He took a deep breath, sat down next to you, and played the videos for you, starting from the very first one.
But like he had yesterday, he cut the video off just as his hands reached out for his dance partner and he wrapped one of his legs around their ankles.
“Wait,” you raised your eyes to Jungkook’s restless gaze, “what happens next?”
“I, um—” he paused, attempted to inhale, and forgot all his words.
He thought he showed you enough. He thought showing you the rest of the video was going to be bad. He hadn’t considered how bad it would be if he had to recap it himself.
“I flip this person on their back,” he said, forcing himself to continue. He was going to tell you everything, even if he had to rip his heart out to do it. “We, uh—we make out. Or try to. It’s, uh—it’s definitely too much. But we’re drunk. Then a security guard comes to tell us we can’t do that here. I then declare that we’re getting married, so he can, respectfully, get fucked. And all of us get escorted out of the club.”
“Ah,” you said. “You must have been really wasted.”
Your voice sounded disconnected somehow—like you hadn’t fully grasped that he was the person in the video.
Or, he thought in a brief moment of lightness, maybe you had grasped it, but it made no difference because it’s been so long.
But Jungkook couldn’t hold onto this hopeful thought for too long. He felt he deserved stronger adjectives.
“Is this it?” you asked after a moment. His phone screen had gone dark after he hadn’t pressed on anything else. “Is that all he—”
“No,” he said. “That’s, um—that’s only the first one he sent.”
Then he played you the three newest videos—the ones he’d just received earlier today after he turned his phone back on.
All the videos were from days that he could scarcely remember. Sid had filmed him dancing, arguing, screaming, engaging in other activities that would earn a community label if the video got publicised, and drinking. Alcohol was featured heavily in all the videos.
You maintained a neutral expression through the first few clips but finally frowned when you watched the third one. In it, Jungkook was having a heated argument with someone outside what appeared to be a nightclub—the only indication was a bright neon sign behind the two figures on the screen.
Jungkook was visibly agitated in the video, hurling all curses known to mankind—and some only known to animalkind—at a red-faced man whom you did not recognise. The man remained silent, swaying slightly on his feet, frowning more and more with each passing second.
You attempted to remember this moment, trying to place the street where the video was taken—you thought Sid had asked you to pick up Jungkook from somewhere around here. But as you watched it, you could not remember Jungkook harassing a seemingly random person. And then you realised that this likely wasn’t a random person, and Jungkook wasn’t the one harassing him.
Turning your head to look at him, you were surprised to see the resolute defeat on Jungkook’s face. He appeared to be waiting to be sentenced.
“He cut the video,” you said, looking back at his phone, “to make you look intentionally aggressive. This guy—he approached you at the bar, didn’t he?”
Jungkook only hummed. It took him another minute to relax his muscles so he could speak—by that time, the video had already ended, and he snickered bitterly.
“Yeah. He used a few pretty slurs, so I told him we should take it outside,” he said. “Right after the video ended, he actually threw a vodka bottle at my head. It didn’t hit me, but we got into a—a fight, and I cut myself on a shard. No stitches, but, um, it bled like a bitch.”
“Fuck, that’s—I-I remember you bleeding,” you said, looking away. You’d wrapped your scarf on his hand when you found him behind that club, on the street from the video, sometime later. He’d refused a hospital and you had not slept the whole night after you dropped him off at his house. “What was Sid doing while that was happening?”
“Well, he watched,” Jungkook said, locking his phone. “He watched and filmed, and now he’s trying to make it seem like I picked that fight.”
You quieted. The videos had made it very clear that Sid was crafting a narrative about Jungkook—to make him look like an ungrateful, aggressive, alcoholic womaniser. Clearly, he was creating Jungkook’s fictional image after himself, and you would have pointed out the irony if you weren’t so annoyed.
“I know it’s my fault,” Jungkook added. “I shouldn’t have allowed him to get under my skin like that, but—”
“How long ago was this?” you interjected.
“I—it—a while,” he said, worried that this was the wrong answer. “I can’t remember.”
“Were you in Rated Riot?” you asked, hoping to determine a more specific timeline, because understanding when the videos were taken might help you figure out what Sid wanted. But you also just wanted to keep asking Jungkook for technical details to keep him out of his own head.
“I think so,” Jungkook said. “Because—I’m trying to figure out why Sid chose to send me these specific videos since I’m sure he has a lot of other great ones, you know what I mean? So, why these?”
“Why?”
“I think it’s because he called you to come pick me up at the end of these nights,” he said with an unsettling hollowness behind his eyes. “And you—well, I don’t remember, but according to what Sid told me later, you never asked what we were doing. You just pulled me out of these situations… and brought me home. A-and now he wants to show you that—he wants you to know what we were doing. What I was doing.”
“Okay,” you said. “But it—it’s been ages.”
He seemed taken aback by the ease in your voice, and his surprise was crushing. You realised he was expecting you not to talk to him again now that you’ve seen the videos.
To Jungkook, that would have made sense.
For years, his self-worth depended on how he was perceived and whether he lived up to expectations. And he balanced between wanting to live up to very different expectations from very different people: Sid, on the one hand. You and his grandmother, on the other.
That was why he didn’t tell his grandmother that he was friends with Sid. It was why he didn’t tell you about all his failed attempts at making your relationship special. It was why he refused to admit to Sid that he still loved you.
And, ultimately, it was why he did not want to reminisce about the nights in Sid’s videos. Nights when he knew he was making mistakes, but he needed to escape from his thoughts too much to care.
Jungkook realised all that. He understood. But there was nothing he could do with the voices, screaming at him in his head. They were telling him that his friends had all turned to reasons why you broke up that first time. He turned them into those reasons. And now those reasons were right here, on his phone.
“I know. But I just—it feels like this is something I can’t run away from,” he said. “It feels like Sid is telling me that this is who I really am. That I’ll always fuck up in the end, and that I’ll die trying—and failing—to be someone better.”
You were shaking your head, and Jungkook shook his, too, to counter your refusal to agree with him.
“No, look, I think that Sid means to use this to, well, to humiliate us,” he insisted. “Or—or just you. Like, ‘see what he was doing? And you still took care of him.’ So you would—you would realise what I’m—what kind of person—and you would change your mind about me—and about—about this. And then...”
He could not find the end of his sentence, but you knew what this was. Jungkook excelled in most things, but he had a throbbing Achilles’ heel – it was his fear of disappointing the people who mattered most to him.
The first time you learned this about him was at his twenty-first birthday party. Minjun, already very drunk, had decided to make a toast and told everyone a story about when he and Jungkook were fourteen. Among all of Jungkook’s friends, Minjun was the only one who’d actually been to his house, and on that day, they were riding bicycles around Jungkook’s front yard with Jungkook and his cousins. Jungkook wanted to perform a trick and he wanted Minjun to record it to brag to Sid later. But as soon as he lifted the front wheel off the ground, he ended up in his grandmother’s azaleas.
The story at the birthday party ended there, with everyone politely laughing and clapping, but Jungkook gave you the rest of it later.
Apparently, his grandmother had warned him about the flowers in advance; she told him not to bike there. And he had. He’d done what she told him not to do. Really, it was because he wanted to outdo Sid, so this could have been another thing that Sid had ruined—but Jungkook couldn’t even get to that part. He was already defeated by the sheer force of his guilt for letting his grandmother down. He was devastated.
He said she hadn’t even yelled at him after she saw how grief-stricken he was. But he still replanted the whole garden and watered the shrubs every day.
And as you listened to Minjun’s story at that birthday party, you realised that even then, almost a decade later, Jungkook flinched every time his friend mentioned azaleas. And he would keep flinching, as you would see in years to come, whenever his grandmother would bring up her garden.
Jungkook never forgot his mistakes, and they all weighed heavily on him. He could only escape them when he was surrounded by people, their voices drowning out his own.
He thought no one knew—he took a paradoxical solace in the belief that only he and the voices in his head knew about what went on inside him—but you’ve seen it over the years.
“No—but these things don’t make you a terrible person,” you said. It didn’t feel like enough, but the thoughts in your head were fast and frail—you could not find one to settle on.
Still, Jungkook looked stunned.
“I—they don’t?” he asked—with a genuine confusion that broke your heart.
“Jungkook,” you said, the edges of your voice desperate.
“No, I—I know,” he said, averting his gaze. “I know. But—really, this is my fault. I did that. I went out with him. It’s—”
“Your fault was staying with Sid for so long,” you interrupted. “That’s your only fault. But realising what was wrong with these people that you surrounded yourself with—that—that’s not wrong. That’s good. You’ve come a long way from the days in those videos.”
He heard you. But a sudden memory still resurfaced in his head: Taehyung had talked to him in the hotel corridor in Amsterdam. He had accused him of fooling around with you and reminded him that your relationship affected the whole band. Jungkook had told him he was serious. He wasn’t fooling around.
He’d meant it—but the bet had been ongoing. However much he wished it not to be, it was fucking ongoing.
And now Jungkook was all the more aware of the thin line between your decision to try this again with him, and the absolute recklessness of this choice. Had he come a long way? Was he different? Or was he really just running away from who he really was?
It would affect the whole band, Taehyung had said.
If he wasn’t good enough for you, he would ruin everything.
“But look how long it took me,” he said with a frustrated sigh. “I can’t—I can’t erase all the shit I did just because I suddenly decided to be a different person.”
“You can’t erase it,” you said, the conviction in your voice rivalling his anxiety, “but you can learn and move on from it.”
He shook his head again. “How can I do that when Sid won’t let me move on?”
“You can do it by accepting these videos as lessons,” you said. “But leaving everything in them in the past. You can do it by not letting Sid get to you anymore. I mean, you’re already doing it. You showed me the videos, which was what Sid threatened you with. You took away everything he was holding against you. You’re doing okay, Jungkook.”
He looked down and swallowed.
He wanted to believe he was okay so much. But there were so many weights on his chest and he could not shake them off. He could not escape them. He could not even pretend they were not there.
This was the reason, he knew, why he dreaded being alone and inevitably recalling every single time in his life when he could have been better, but wasn’t. When he could have been more, but chose not to. When he could have chosen you, but didn’t.
He longed for you in a way that he hadn’t longed for anything in his life before—so much that it hurt to think and his whole body felt grey and tense—but he’d already let you down. He’d let himself down.
“I hurt you,” he said after a minute, covering his face with his hands. “And, fuck, I don’t—I’m not saying this to guilt-trip you into forgiving and forgetting everything. I’m just fucking—I’m so fucked up. I love you more than anything in my life, but I-I can’t spend a single minute by myself without thinking about how fucking fucked up I am. And I’ve done so much stupid fucking shit. I don’t want it to hurt you any more than it already fucking has. And I know you’re the last person who should be comforting me about this. I’m just—I can’t get over those—”
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pressed your chest against his, forcing him to still in your embrace and finally stop speaking.
After a breathless minute, he finally inhaled and you felt him lower his hands from his face and tentatively slide them around your waist, his grip tightening as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.
“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered. It was still his fear talking, you could feel it pressing against your chest as you pulled him closer until you couldn’t breathe, either. “I don’t think I can ever be enough for—”
“You’re you, Jungkook,” you cut him off. “That’s enough for me.”
He let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes; you felt his lashes flutter against the side of your neck.
“I love you,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
You shook your head against his shoulder. “I love you.”
He held you and breathed you in for an amount of time that no clock could not keep up with, but it still felt insufficient. And when you pulled back slightly to look at him, he pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that expressed everything that words could not.
“Thank you,” he added. “For everything.”
You kissed him back—not to say you’re welcome, or no problem. You kissed him to tell him that you had finally made a choice. You were here. And you were staying.
He understood all of it as his lips pressed to yours, as your tongues touched and your breaths mixed together, as his hands settled around your waist as if they’d never been elsewhere. But you sensed his nervous heartbeat against your chest, even though he tried to fight against it.
“Promise me,” he whispered against your lips, “that you’ll tell me if I let you down again.”
Gently—but swiftly—you pulled away.
“I’ll tell you right now,” you said, the firmness in your tone contrasting with the tenderness of your touch as you held a hand to his chest and another one on the side of his face. “You let me down when you put yourself down. We make mistakes, we own up to them, we learn from them. We try too hard, we don’t always succeed, but we get through it together. That’s what we do. And we talk to each other about it all.”
The second you stopped speaking, he pulled you to himself with enough force to knock your breath out of your lungs. You rested your head against his, your heart pounding to the beat of his pulse.
“We’re very co-dependent,” he whispered and the tension in your chest finally eased at his light tone.
“Yes,” you stated. “It’s how we are.”
He snickered and lingered some more in your arms. You rested your hands on his back, rubbing gentle circles and steadily calming down his mind, his heart, and the entirety of his tired soul.
“Maggie, um—she took a picture of us in Amsterdam,” you said. “Did you know?”
He furrowed his eyebrows but allowed you to pull away as he thought about this.
“Wh—oh, in the bathtub?” he asked.
“Yeah. You’ve seen it?”
“Yeah, she sent it to me a while ago,” he said. And, overwhelmed by the honesty of the moment, he added, “it’s beautiful.”
That wasn’t a secret—he’d named his newest song after the moment you’d shared in that bathroom—but he still questioned if he should have said this right now. He could imagine your shock about the picture—that was why he chose not to show it to you when Maggie sent it to him.
But your expression remained gentle, almost pleased.
“Yeah, I liked it, too,” you said. “Well, after I got over the fact that we left the fucking door open.”
He chuckled softly, the sound straining against the cuts and bruises in his chest.
“But anyway, my point is, focus on things like that,” you continued. “That’s who you are. You’re not a video from fuck knows how long ago. Sid doesn’t own you, and he does not control you.”
Jungkook swallowed and lowered his gaze. He nodded his head a few times, but you still started to feel uneasy—was this enough? Or was Sid’s presence in his head still heavier than yours?
You looked around for a distraction, and quickly found one, partially hidden under a stack of cookies.
“We had a film to watch,” you said, pulling your laptop out and accidentally knocking down some of the candy towers he had built on the bed.
Jungkook glanced up and caught a bag of chocolates right before it hit him on the arm. “Oh—w-we had. But how’s your head?”
You had completely forgotten it existed at all, which certainly alleviated your headache. The pure adrenaline from being so close to him probably contributed, too.
“It’s good,” you said, opening your laptop and turning around to adjust the pillows on the bed for more comfort. “I’m great.”
“I still think you should get proper food,” he said, and it struck you that this pattern of worrying, comforting, and taking care of each other in turns was truly a regular occurrence between the two of you.
“I’m fine,” you said. “We’ve got chocolate and more cookies than we should be allowed to eat. I want to live out my nine-year-old fantasy and my dentist’s worst nightmare.”
He smiled at that, but still hesitated. “Okay, but—well, maybe you would rather sleep?”
“I—alright.” You pushed your laptop aside and crossed your arms over your chest. “Now it’s starting to sound like you don’t want to watch this with me.”
“I do,” he said, coming to sit across from you so he could push the laptop back towards you. “I’m just—”
“I’m fine,” you repeated. “I want to be here.”
Hearing that made him happy—the jump-off-buildings kind of happy, where he was glad to have you here or else he really would’ve had no way to keep it all inside himself—but he seemed to still wait for something. The air in the room was still thick with everything that you’d talked about tonight.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “We don’t have to do this—after everything.”
“I want to do this,” you said. And then, responding to the doubts he chose not to voice, you added, “I want to do everything with you.”
He watched as you leaned over your laptop to set up the film across the bed from him. He hadn’t realised he could feel so suffocated from the butterflies in his chest—his stomach could no longer contain them—and he was worried about opening his mouth in case they would try to escape. They’d fill this whole room with their fluttering wings, and the two of you would simply not fit.
“I love you,” he breathed out.
You raised your head and smiled at him—easily, effortlessly. Like you’ve done countless times before.
“I love you, too,” you said.
There wasn’t a building tall enough, he decided. Your voice resonated in his pulse and as long as his heart kept beating, he would always land on the ground perfectly safe.
“Alright,” you said, interrupting his very productive Staring and Smiling. “Let’s watch the film.”
“Alright.”
He returned to his side of the bed and managed to settle on the very edge of it. He watched the paused screen of your laptop and twiddled his thumbs. It took him half a minute to notice you were watching him.
“What?” he asked then.
“You’re comfortable?” you questioned. “Your grandma is going to be disappointed if you tell her that you watched the film but couldn’t even see the screen.”
He looked away. “To be fair, my grandma would be disappointed if she found out I had you in my room and I was across the bed from you.”
You tried everything to suppress your smile, but it crept onto your face in blatant defiance and chose to stay there.
“Well, what’s stopping you from coming closer?” you asked.
“My heart, I think. It might really stop this time.”
You laughed, and he was forced to acknowledge that he did not need to be right next to you for his heart to stop. All it took was this.
He wasn’t sure if he was ever going to recover from the fact that he could finally do this again—sit on the bed with you, watch films together, listen to you laugh, kiss you, tell you he loved you and hear that you loved him, too. And no one could text him and wake him up from this dream.
“Come here,” you said, raising your arm over the pillows to make space for him by your side.
He was beaming. Neither Sid, nor any voice inside his head could ever taint this moment or take it away from him.
Jungkook scooted closer to you, seemingly determined to make you regret your invitation. He immediately draped a hand over your waist and a leg over yours, his body warm, his touch inescapable. You started the film on your laptop, but doubted, suddenly, if you’d be able to watch anything with him so close.
One of your hands had come to rest on the back of his head, gently teasing the strands of his hair as he lied on his side next to you, almost half of his body thrown over yours. His fingers toyed with the edges of your hoodie, and he kept humming an unrecognisable tune under his breath. You weren’t sure if he even realised it, because every time you glanced at him, especially during your favourite parts of the film, he was diligently watching the screen. The only times he looked up at you was if you stopped playing with his hair.
Then, once the film ended about an hour and a half later, Jungkook pulled back a little to be able to see you in his dark room.
If not for the tapping of his leg against yours, he would have looked like an ancient sculpture with the contours of his face illuminated by the glow of your laptop screen. It felt exceptional, somehow, to be able to witness him like this, and you came to the same realisation as you had in Stockholm while walking down empty streets at night with him, and in Amsterdam, when he lied on the hotel bed next to you. You realised how effortlessly poetic he looked. How otherworldly.
And you realised you loved him far more than words could describe.
Suddenly, his phone buzzed.
His expression darkened, but he did not move to check who’d texted. He was determined to stay in the dream he was having.
Within seconds, before either of you could say half of a word about the film you’d just watched, his phone buzzed three more times.
Finally, he exhaled. He did not need to look at his phone; you both knew it was Sid.
“I told Minjun about this earlier today,” Jungkook said, reaching over to grab the device from the other side of the bed. “He thinks I should ignore him, but I’m not sure if that’ll work. I, um—I had hoped Sid would forget about the bet and just leave me in peace, but he saw how bothered I was, and that brought him joy. He never forgets anything that brings him joy. And this is something else that—”
“Reply to him,” you said.
“I—hmm?” He blinked. “What?”
You shrugged your shoulders. He appeared even more perplexed by your apparent nonchalance.
“He’s clearly anticipating it,” you explained. “Text him that I’ve already seen those videos. Add a heart.”
Jungkook was not sure what to make of this. Last night, you had tried to stop him from doing the very thing you were now suggesting.
But then he looked down at his phone in his hands—several new notifications about video attachments from unknown numbers were on his screen—and he thought he understood what had changed. He could see how your responses to Sid had been building up to this point. The bet was just one of many instances, a small drop in an endless ocean of shit that Sid came up with and encouraged. All of it had brought you and Jungkook to this moment: with the videos on his phone looming over him.
Sid may not have been the sole cause, but he had reinforced Jungkook’s already prominent reliance on external validation and his subsequent isolation anxiety. He even played a significant role in exacerbating these issues. Jungkook was aware of it, even if he couldn’t help it. And you were aware of it, too.
While he wasn’t sure how deep inside of his mind you could see, Jungkook looked at the determination in your eyes, and he understood. You were on his side, and after everything you’d talked about tonight, you were angry.
He considered your suggestion again.
“Won’t that antagonise him further?” he asked cautiously.
“Sure it will,” you replied simply. “But what else can he do?”
“I’m not sure I want to find out.”
“Well, he wants you to react,” you said. “He’ll continue to spam you with everything he has in his gallery unless you show him that he’s got nothing to win. You said he’s taunting you, he’s threatening to show me the videos. Well, I’ve seen them. He can’t do anything about that now.”
The more Jungkook thought about this, the more his heart rate increased.
“But then,” he said because he’s known Sid for most of his life, “he’ll find a different way to get under my skin.”
You shook your head. You were convinced that the only reason why Sid got so far, why he had such a tight grip on Jungkook’s thoughts, was because Jungkook allowed it.
“He won’t have that much power,” you said, “if you won’t give it to him.”
Jungkook was still hesitant—his habit of blindly following Sid’s lead was very hard to kill—but he unlocked his phone.
“Alright,” he said. “But—okay, I guess he might not believe me if I tell him you already saw the videos. So, what if I—”
“I’ll text him.”
His stomach sank in horror.
“You—no,” he disagreed, panicking as he got up on his knees on the bed. “No, no—w-we don’t even know these numbers he’s using.”
“I don’t need them,” you said, taking out your phone. “We know it’s Sid. We’ll strip him of all his courage by exposing the anonymity he believes he has.”
Jungkook watched you in helpless awe—as though you were doing something truly impressive rather than simply sending a text message. He leaned in closer to be able to get a better view of your phone screen as you selected Sid’s contact (saved as “ASS #1” on your phone—with Jude following as “ASS #2,” of course), and typed: “I already know about the videos, thank you for thinking of me 🖤”
Then, you put your phone away and turned to Jungkook. He was still biting his lip, evidently doubting and regretting at least half of his life.
“There’s a second part, you know,” you said.
“Hm?” He glanced at the black screen of your laptop. “Of the film?”
“Mhmm. He’s escaping from LA this time. Do you want to watch it?”
Jungkook felt a little dizzy. This was over, then. You sent the text, and that was it.
He was forced to accept that even though he had cut his ties with Sid, he could still feel the phantom grips of Sid’s collar around his neck. He wasn’t sure if he would have believed in himself enough to send one text and be done with it. He needed a deeper provocation—like Sid’s descriptions of you before he punched him—or someone actively supporting him all through it—like Minjun and Taehyung, when he gave his Katana up.
And you, he thought. He was thinking of you during all those times.
“I—well, yeah,” he said finally. “Let’s watch it.”
You nodded and returned to your laptop to prepare the second film. You had your back turned to him, so he could not see the slight tremor in your hands. You did not enjoy texting Sid, but he was using you to get back at Jungkook, and you were tired of sitting down and taking it.
“Do you think,” Jungkook said, leaning back against the pillows, “I should get an anaconda tattooed on my stomach?”
Your relief was so strong that you didn’t even realise you had started to laugh. Kurt Russell’s character had a very prominent shirtless scene in the film, and you had been waiting for Jungkook to mention it.
“That was a cobra,” you said. “And no.”
“I think it—wait, why not?” He leaned forward to look at you, offence prominent on his face. “It looked cool on Snake.”
“You’re not cool enough to pull it off,” you replied. He raised his eyebrows, and you shook your head to hide your smile and to emphasise your point. “It just wouldn’t work.”
He nodded slowly, his lips twisted ironically. “Oh, I see, okay. So, what would work for me, then?”
“Maybe a cute little rabbit.”
“A rabb—oh, sure.” Crossing his arms over his chest and pouting, he looked very much like the tattoo you were imagining. “Go ahead and mock me.”
You squinted your eyes. “A rabbit with a lip ring?”
“Mhmm.” He tilted his chin up. “I will get a cobra tattoo out of spite now.”
Snickering, you hit the spacebar on your keyboard and started the film.
“Let’s watch the second part before you decide rabbit or cobra,” you said.
“I’ve already deci—”
Your phone vibrated on the bed, cutting him off. A familiar anxious shiver ran down your spine.
You glanced at him, and just as before, the two of you quickly came to the same conclusion, and the radiant smiles on your faces suddenly clouded again.
Breathing a little heavier, you paused the film after less than a minute and picked up your phone.
There was a new text message from Sid. He had sent you a link to what appeared to be an Instagram post. His message underneath it read, “Okay :) and do you know about this? x”
You had a feeling what was coming even before you clicked the link; your subconsciousness had made the connection before it should have realistically been possible.
The link directed you to Sid’s profile and the picture he’d posted four minutes ago: it was the black-and-white bathtub shot that Maggie had shown you at the bar last night. Sid had captioned it, “so happy for you!”
Jungkook cursed softly on the bed behind you.
You were not sure if you were breathing.
“Fuck,” Jungkook said again. “He—he must have got it from my phone. Maggie—she sent me the picture, and Sid—”
“This piece of fucking shit,” you swore. Your hold on your phone remained firm, despite the device shaking in your frustrated hands. “He’s definitely not just taunting you, he’s targeting us both.”
The Rated Riot fans knew who Sid was, they saw the picture. Jungkook glanced at your screen once more as you clicked on the likes. They were pouring in too quickly, and the total number—which Sid had not made private, of course—could not refresh in time.
Neither you, nor Jungkook said anything. Neither of you drew any obvious conclusions. Simply watching as the image spread online was already enough.
People said a picture was worth a thousand words, and you wondered about the value of this particular one.
You hadn’t even talked to the label; you’d barely talked to each other about your relationship. How would this look for you? What would you do?
“This is what he wants, then?” you asked, staring at your phone. The usernames on the screen blurred together. “For us to break up? He’s that miserable?”
Jungkook felt a knot straining in his stomach, and he could not respond.
“And why do it like this?” you questioned further. “What the fuck is wrong with him, aside from the obvious? What does he gain from any of this?”
Jungkook thought he knew what it was. He could feel it that night when he handed Sid the keys to the Katana. But he hoped—he really fucking hoped—that Sid would get over it. He got his way, after all.
“He won the bet,” Jungkook said, “but I did not lose anything. He can’t stand the thought that I’m—h-he needs me to know that I’m not better than him.”
You groaned. “Fuck—fuck him. Fuck his immature shit, and his fucking ego. Whatever it is that he wants, he’s not going to get it. He’s already done enough.”
You got up from the bed, and Jungkook watched you move around his room with a quiet purpose that he could not decipher.
“What…” he cleared his throat, “do you mean?”
“I don’t know yet,” you said, and your pacing increased. “But we’ll figure it out. He’s not getting his fucking way.”
Jungkook felt a little foolish as he asked, “you’re not mad?”
You stopped in the middle of the room and looked at the uncertain arch of his brows, the slight pull of his lips. You wondered if you would have had it in you not to strangle Sid if he was in the room with you right now. Really, Jungkook wouldn’t even have to do anything. Maybe dig a hole later.
“At you?” you asked, returning to the bed. “Why would I be mad at you? I—I’m angry in general. But I think Sid would have found some kind of a picture of us and posted it anyway. At least we managed to get on his nerves a little first.”
You sat down beside him, and he ran his fingers through his hair, half-nodding, half-shaking his head.
“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” he decided. “We might have, uh, actually pushed him into doing this without thinking it through. He didn’t even tag us in the picture, right? And I mean, I know it’s us, but we’re completely in the dark, and—”
He stopped talking when you abruptly jumped up, scrambling to unlock your phone again.
“W-what is it?” he asked, alarmed once more.
You returned to Sid’s profile, clicked on the picture, and refreshed the post.
He hadn’t tagged you.
Jungkook was easily recognisable in the picture if you expected to see him there. However, it was likely that besides Maggie and Luna—who already knew it was you because Maggie had said so—no one else could identify the other person in the bathtub.
“Shit, you’re right,” you said, your heart speeding in your chest. “He didn’t tag us. If I hadn’t texted him, he might have posted the picture later, after thinking it through better, and—but he hadn’t. Fuck, this is—we can fix this. I—oh, we will fix this, and I’ll fucking make sure this is the last game he plays with us.”
Right away, just from the tone of your voice alone, Jungkook knew that Sid had lost. He’d lost and he didn’t even know it yet.
You hadn’t broken up. You were together—seemingly even more together now than you were hours ago, when you’d first entered his room.
Finally, Jungkook exhaled in staggering relief.
The two of you had already won.
chapter title credits: normandie, “blood in the water”
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#jungkook x reader#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jeon jungkook fanfiction#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook x reader#bts reactions#bts imagines#bts scenarios#jungkook imagine#jungkook x you#jungkook fanfiction#bts x reader#bts angst#bts fluff#bts fanfiction#jeon jungkook au#bts au#jungkook rockstar au#bts rockstar au
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141+Alejandro, Rodolfo and Konig Finding Their S/O Asleep
TW: SFW, Very Fluffy
Not my gifs--------All supported by Tumblr
Simon "Ghost" Riley:
With his job, he never really knows what time he'll be home. Most of the time, it ends up being late at night
You usually try and stay up til he gets home but tonight you were more tired than usual
You curled up onto the couch and ended up falling asleep with the TV on, playing whatever that was on
When Simon arrived home, he walked into the living room, finding you curled up and fast asleep
He admires you from afar before getting down his knees and caressing the side of your cheek, pushing your hair out of your face
He's fallen back in love with you all over again ❣️
He kisses the side of your forehead as he turns off the TV and picks you up, carrying you into the bedroom
He murmurs how much he loves you, that you are his world
He makes sure he doesn't wake you as he sets you down on the bed and lays besides you, wrapping his arms around you and falling asleep with you in his arms
John "Soap" Mactavish:
Like Ghost, he never knows what time he'll be home either but he will always send you a text, letting you know when he's on the way
You normally are up and waiting for him to come through the door, but you found yourself more tired than nornal
You got yourself comfy on the bed and ended up falling asleep
When John arrives home, he tries to stay quiet, trying to make sure he doesn't wake you up Incase if you are asleep
Once he reaches the bedroom, he sees you are fast asleep. He drops his stuff silently and changes into a fresh clothes
He smiles at the sight of you. To him, you look so peaceful. He caresses the side of your cheek and you find yourself waking up from his touch
He's so head over heels for you (Literally)
"Hey, Bonnie, I'm home. God I missed you so much"- John says, in a whisper voice as you pull him in and kiss him passionately
He holds you and you end up falling back asleep on his chest while he runs his hand through your hair and falls asleep
John "Captain" Price:
If John was at home, he's usually trying to spend time with you or he gets caught up with work or going over reports
He'd been working most of the day and you'd ask him if he could come be with you for a bit so he could take a break
He tells you he'll be with you soon ( 2 or 3 hours later cause he's a workaholic sometimes)
Some time had gone by, you decided to go lay down on the bed and fall asleep
John stopped what he was doing and realised you hadn't come in to check on hin in awhile. While he's on the phone with Kate, he walks into the bedroom, finding you asleep
"John is everything ok?"
"Yeah.. yeah Kate. Everything's great. It's just the misses. I'll talk to you when we get back on base", John says, hanging up the phone with Kate and goes over to lay next to you
He covers you up with a blanket and admires you. You look so beautiful to him. He kisses your cheek
After that, he's wrapped his arms around you and ends up falling asleep next to you.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:
If Gaz is at home, he's normally spending so much time with you before another mission comes up. He doesn't want to waste any time and prefers to spend quality time with you
One day, you asked him if he could help fix the sink and he did. You tried to help him out but started feeling tired so you went to go lay down on the couch
"Hey babe, do you ha-" He stops talking, as he sees you peacefully asleep on the couch.
He comes over and kisses your forehead then covers you up with a blanket.
"My beautiful girl" Gaz says before he goes to finish the sink before laying down next to you and holding you by your waist
While your asleep, he's fixated on you and how beautiful you look. Your his everything
He'll think of his future with you and how amazing it would be. Keeping you in his life is what he wants
Alejandro "Colonel" Vargas:
Like Price, he tends to get worked up in his job sometimes but once he's with you, he's all yours
You were spending time together since it was his day off and ended up lounging outside on a nice day
Alejandro was finishing up cleaning up the grill from a cookout that you and Alejandro did
As he was talking to you, he noticed that you weren't saying much so he turned around and saw you fast asleep
He smiled and admired you before picking you up and taking you inside to the bedroom, resting your head on the pillow.
He pushed your hair out of the way and kissed you softly on your temple
"I love you, mi amor. Mi vida"
He forgets that he needs to clean because he's focused on you. You're his love, life and treasure. He ends up laying next to you and cuddling with you
He runs his hand over your shoulder and through your hair, looking at how beautiful you are to him. He ends up falling asleep next to you
Rodolfo "Second-In-Command" Parra:
Once he's away from work, he's all yours. Work isn't his priority once he's home
He knew that you had a long day at work this day so he ended up taking care of you. He gave you some tea as well as ending up making lunch for you and him
He listens to your long day and gives you plenty of kisses and hugs to help brighten your day
Once he hears you go quiet, he stops everything and goes to check on you
He comes into the bedroom to find you fast asleep on the bed. He leans against the wall and smiles, admiring you from a distance for a second
After this, he'll cover you up with a blanket and end up laying next to you. He caresses your cheek or back. Around this time, he's thinking that you're the only one for him and that's all he wants
"Soy tan afortunado de tenerte. Te amo mucho (I'm so lucky to have you. I love you so much)"
Konig:
Once he's done with work, the only thing that is running through his mind is going home to you and spending time with you
As soon as he gets home, he calls out for you but no answer. He reaches the bedroom, to find you asleep peacefully
He smiles and pushes the hair out of your face, taking off your glasses that you left on and placing the book on the bed stand
He lays next to you and pulls you close to him, leaving no space between the two of you but is careful enough so you don't wake up
He hears you hum softly and snuggle into his chest
"Maus, you are my greatest love and treasure. I love you so so much" he mumbles against you and kisses your cheek
He lays there with you, not moving an inch and daydreams of his life with you, how he'd want to be with you and only you.
After some time, he ends up falling asleep next to you and feels whole, knowing he has you
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :)
Taglist: @dressycobra7 @deadbranch @lolis-pikt
#call of duty#cod mw2#mwii#cod mw2 x reader#mw2 headcannons#call of duty modern warfare#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#captain john price#alejandro vargas#rodolfo parra#mw2 konig#mw2 x reader
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There's just something about you – Professor!Austin Butler (smut)
Well well well, ofc I {as somebody who has a massive prof!crush} had to give in and write this. I think this has potential for a part 2, so please tell me how you feel about that. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: The reader works as Professor Butler's teaching assistant. The two are about to take a trip with his class when she gets sick. While staying with him for the weekend the two finally give in to the pull keeping them chained together.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f), professor x TA relationship, quite fluffy
Pairing: prof!Austin Butler x fem!TA!reader (3k words)
picture credit to the original owner
“Alright, listen up!“ Professor Butler’s voice echoed through the room. His words were followed by instant silence, forcing all eyes towards the handsome professor. She stood close to him, not enough to feel his body heat clashing against her, though just enough to hyperfocus on the scent of his expensive cologne – a scent she’d always pick up on, no matter where she was at.
“As you all know, we’re leaving for our trip next week. (Y/n) was kind enough to take over the bookings, but we need you to find one or two people to share a room with. Please send (y/n) an email til Monday, so we can avoid any confusion when we check in. If you have any further questions about the trip or concerns, feel free to reach out to one of us.”
She had joined the faculty as Professor Butler’s PhD candidate and teaching assistant a while ago, slowly having to adjust to being around a man like him. At first, (y/n) had struggled to focus, fighting against the urge to stare at him at any given chance, but slowly she had gotten more and more relaxed around him, actually getting to enjoy her interactions with the young professor.
“Please don’t forget your homework, alright? I’ll see you all next week.” The room was filled with loud noises as he ended the class, forcing the students to their feet and out into the hallway. (Y/n) busied herself with his notes, rechecking them before she allowed her gaze to find his bright eyes. “You did good today, (y/n), if you feel comfortable enough you can gladly do next week’s class on your own.”
“I don’t think I feel ready to do this without you yet.” His big hand found her shoulder, leaving her torn between focusing on the feeling of his thumb softly stroking the fabric of her blouse, and the intense eye contact he now held with her. For a second, neither of them spoke, leaving (y/n) to wonder what he was thinking about.
“Alright, but you’re by far better than me at catching their attention, I hope one day you’ll realise that.” Professor Butler’s raspy chuckle had an addicting effect to it, leaving her to avert her gaze as he took a step away from her. “Chinese takeout while we grade the essays?”
……
She woke with a pained whine as her hand reached for her phone, trying to read the time. It was Saturday morning, two days before they’d go on their short trip, but her body was clearly fighting against all plans, making her suffer from a sore throat and a blocked nose. Curses wanted to claw through her, cursing fate for pushing her into her misery.
(Y/n) had been looking forward to the trip for a while, excited about spending some more time with Professor Butler outside of his office and the room he was teaching in. Secretly she had hoped for some more calmer moments where they could go back to sharing information about one another that had nothing to do with their research or their university work. Hopes that were now evaporating into nothing but cold air.
For a moment, (y/n) pondered over her choices, but her fingers had already started to move before her mind could protest, opening the email app. With a few quick words she sent her professor a small warning, telling him that she was sick and would most likely not be able to join on Monday. She felt pathetic for the wave of hurt and exhaustion flushing through her, leaving her trembling body to search the warmth of her bed.
It didn’t take long for her phone to go off, forcing her glassy eyes to read his reply. Simple words told her to give him a call with his added number to the email. Perhaps it was the fault of her cold, perhaps it was the fault of her hazy thoughts, whatever it was, it stopped (y/n) from overthinking, clicking on the number before her anxiety could get the best of her.
“Morning, (y/n).” His raspy voice shot shudders down her spine, momentarily letting her eyes flutter close. She repeated the greeting while internally cringing at the raspy sound of her voice. “Oh sweetheart, you sound horrible.”
Heat rose to her face at the pet name, having to forcefully stop herself from gasping. She could only let go of a hum, not trusting herself to speak coherent words he could easily pick up on.
“Are you still living alone?” A while ago (y/n) had told him about her struggles to find a roommate, unsure who to pick as she had high priorities she didn’t want to let go of. Once again she hummed, wondering where he was taking this conversation. “Alright, I want you to pack a bag. I’ll pick you up in a few, you’re spending the weekend with me, I can’t go on that trip without you. We’ll get you back to your healthy self in no time.”
“Professor,” she sat up as she tried to protest, having to drown out the sinful thoughts instantly flushing through her mind. “I don’t want to take up any of your space, and you could also get sick. I’ll be alright here, don’t worry.”
“No, you’re staying with me. I won’t accept any protests, (y/n). What’s your address?”
It hadn’t taken long for them to end the call, for her to take a quick shower and to pack a bag. Her heart kept racing in her chest, urging her to move, to be smart about the things she packed. She barely got any time to overthink as he had arrived at her place rather quickly, but now as she was sitting on his couch, wrapped in a blanket, (y/n)’s thoughts finally caught up with her.
Austin – as he had asked her to call him – was all too gentle with her, tending to her every need with worry tugging on his features. (Y/n) could only guess that she looked as horrible as she felt, tired eyes barely managing to stay open, and yet she didn’t want to miss a thing, cherishing the chance to be so close to him.
“How about we watch a movie before I make some soup, huh?” Austin plopped down next to her, tugging on her legs to place them in his lap. (Y/n) allowed herself to study him for a few seconds, his blonde hair had that slightly unruly touch to it, blue eyes focusing on his TV. He wore a simple white shirt that perfectly stuck to his muscles, paired with blue jeans that gave him a different touch to the version of him who always wore suits in class.
“Sure, I’m good with whatever.” He shot her a quick smile that left her trembling, having to calm her racing heart with her grasp on the blanket growing stronger. She barely managed to pay the opening sequence of the movie any attention, getting lost in her thoughts as his thumb stroked the soft skin of her ankle, holding onto her as if he was scared she could slip right through his fingers.
For the first time in years, she felt an unfamiliar kind of safety wrapping itself around her, clinging to her like a second skin made to protect her, to cherish her, to perhaps even love her.
……
Quiet steps carried her towards the big kitchen, engulfed in darkness as (y/n) started the kettle, hoping that another cup of tea could finally lull her to sleep. She was too deep in thought to notice his approaching figure, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed in front of his naked chest.
“You alright, sweetheart?” (Y/n) jumped at the sound of his raspy voice, pressing her hand to her chest as she turned towards him. A laugh clawed through Austin, guiding him closer to her with slow steps. “Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you.”
(Y/n) had to turn from him, trying to focus on the almost boiling water as he came to a halt behind her, reaching for another cup. His naked upper body was pressed against her back, one of his arms found its way around her waist to keep her close to him. Goosebumps covered her limbs, silently whispering to her, guiding her hand to find his.
No words were spoken between the two as she poured the hot water into the big cups while Austin reached for the teabags. He loosened his hold on her as if he was begging her to turn around, to get lost in the bright eyes that reminded her of warm summer mornings spent at the beach, getting lost in daydreams that felt more real than memories of things she had lived through. Her body urged her to move, to lean against the counter with her eyes finding his features, wandering over his handsome face.
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, (y/n)?” She didn’t trust her voice, knowing that she’d most likely make a fool of herself, but the two hands finding her waist, keeping her caged between his tall frame and the counter, encouraged her to part her lips. (Y/n)’s eyes focused on his neck, on the golden necklace he wore, dangling from his neck like a pendulum about to give her a glimpse into her future.
“I,” a shaky exhale left (y/n), trusting her mind and heart to guide her. “I keep thinking about how comfortable I feel here. Thank you for letting me stay with you, Austin.”
She expected him to shoot her his signature smile, to pull away from her to reach for his cup. But he kept close to her, hand slowly moving up to her face, cupping her cold cheek. He forced her to look up at him, making her breath hitch in her chest as she watched his gaze flicker between her eyes and her lips.
“I tried to stay away from you, but you’re not making it easy for me, sweetheart.” (Y/n) got no chance to reply, silenced by the feeling of his lips finding hers. Ever since she had joined his team, (y/n) had imagined this very moment, wondering how his lips would feel pressed against hers, how he’d hold onto her as they got lost in their kiss. But this was so very different to all these daydreams, more intense, more exciting even. With his hands finding the back of her thighs, he helped her onto the counter, allowing himself to stand between her thighs as they kept kissing.
“Now you’re definitely getting sick for sure,” (y/n) mumbled the words against his lips as they parted to catch their breaths. Austin’s raspy laugh echoed through the kitchen, bright eyes burning her skin as if she was caught in a wildfire, about to burn to the ground.
“For you I’ll gladly take on the struggles of being sick.” His words left her heart roaring, lips finding his once again. Their tongues met in a teeth clashing kiss, wordlessly managing to communicate their longing, the desperate need they had fought against these past months. “I need you to be honest with me, do you want this? I don’t want to pressure you, sweetheart.”
“Take me to bed, professor.” (Y/n)’s smirk grew wider as his pupils dilated, picking her up without another warning. She had her legs wrapped around him, face buried in the crook of his neck. Within seconds they found themselves in Austin’s bedroom, he didn’t give her much time to take in the big room, the pictures gracing the walls, fully focused on him as he pressed her down on the mattress.
Austin kissed his way down her throat as if he was following the trail of a treasure hunt, high on the adrenaline of the search. (Y/n) trembled beneath him while her fingers tugged on the hairs at the nape of his neck before moving down to his muscular shoulders. Somehow it felt as if they had done this numerous times before, knowing exactly how and where to touch one another.
He parted from her to pull her shirt over her head, focus instantly drawn to her naked chest. The way Austin was staring at her made (y/n) feel as if he was marvelling at a masterpiece, a creation of old times the human mind barely managed to understand. Carefully he cupped her breasts, groaning at the feeling of her soft skin pressing against his. They held eye contact as he brought his lips back to her skin, sucking on both nipples before kissing his way down her stomach.
“Austin,” (y/n) choked on his name, begging him to keep on moving, to touch her where she needed him the most.
“Talk to me, sweetheart, what do you want?” His voice grew lower with every spoken syllable, pushing heat down to her core. She felt her walls clench around nothing, begging him to finally fuck her.
“You, all of you. Please, I need you so badly.” Without speaking another word, he ripped her panties from her hips, letting his fingers explore her arousal-covered folds. His name rolled off her tongue, she arched her back at the careful touches, trying to shuffle even closer. Austin could do whatever he wanted to her at that very moment, she was putty in his hands, his to toy with, his to use for his own pleasure. Whatever he wanted, she’d do it, if he kept on touching her like this.
“Will you let me taste you? I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.” (Y/n) could only nod her head, letting go of a breathless gasp the second his rough tongue brushed through her folds. Austin moaned at her taste, he wrapped one arm around her thigh, keeping her pressed to him while the other hand found her clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves with his fingers. Within the first seconds of him touching her, (y/n) had known that she wouldn’t be able to hold on for long, overstimulated by his touches.
No longer could she spare her hurting throat any attention, no longer did she struggle to breathe on, all she could do was focus on him, on the way he dipped his tongue into her tightness, how he added more speed to his movements, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.
“You taste so sweet, I could stay like that forever, if you’ll let me.” She moaned at his praise, fingernails scratching at his skin to try and hold on. Her legs were trembling from the strength she used to curl her toes, unsure how much longer she could stop herself from giving in to an intense orgasm.
“It’s alright, cum for me, show me how pretty you look when you cum for me.” Austin’s words pushed her into the open arms of her orgasm, calling out his name as he kept circling her clit with a smirk glued to his lips. He watched her every move, every micro-expression he could pick up on, fully mesmerised by the beautiful woman he had wanted to pull closer for months.
“Oh god,” (y/n) panted the words, drawing gleeful chuckles from Austin as he let go of her. Her glassy eyes watched him undress, gaze wandering down his muscular upper body, past his six-pack to his sweatpants. His cock sprang free as he stepped out of his clothes, a sight that pushed heat straight down to her cunt, needing to feel him buried inside of her. “I need you to fuck me now, I can’t wait any longer, Austin.”
“Mhm, such a desperate girl, we should teach you some patience one day.” He reached for a condom, rolled it down his cock and positioned himself between her thighs. With her hand finding the back of his neck, (y/n) pulled him back down for a kiss, distracting herself from the slight pain as he pushed into her, having to adjust to his size. For a second, they held still, clinging to one another to let go of a few deep exhales, fingers interlaced to try and keep themselves grounded.
“Move, please, professor.” Austin let go of a growl at the use of the title, building a comfortable rhythm that allowed one another to get used to the sensation. He was careful with her, not daring to hurt her when she was still sick, not fully able to guide her body. But the blissful expression tugging on her features was enough to calm his racing heart, finding enjoyment in the way she clung to him, how she seemingly felt the same pull he did.
They were a mess of tangled limbs, of moans blurring together, of hearts beating in sync, a match so perfect neither of them wanted to break out of their very own bubble. Their bodies met with every thrust, bringing them closer and closer together, while their eyes found back together.
“My pretty girl, I don’t want to let you go again.” He murmured the words against her lips, luring a soft chuckle out of (y/n).
“Don’t let me go, don’t you dare.” Her head rolled back as his cock nudged her swollen spot, leaving him grinning in success. Austin kept staring down at her, trying to burn every passing second into his mind, praying that he won’t ever forget about this night.
“Touch yourself, make yourself cum on my cock, sweetheart.” With a gasp leaving her, her fingers found her pulsing clit, moving quickly to give her the needed push. He fucked her through her second orgasm, letting go himself as she relaxed beneath him.
Austin clung to her as they both tried to catch their breaths, only parting as they managed to break through the hazy fog wrapping itself around the two lovers. He threw away the condom before he returned to her, cupping her now warm cheek to pull her in for another kiss.
“How about a bath?” She could only nod as he picked her up and carried her into his bathroom, while making the silent promise to cherish her for as long as she’ll let him.
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Hello love 🖤
Can I request an a-z fluffy hc for our big man Tangerine?
hii luv!! ARFG OFC OFC!! thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌 ps. that pic🫠
SFW ALPHABET
tangerine x implied female reader, 1.4k words
found lots of different templates, so I combined parts as wasn't sure
A = attractive (what do they find attractive about their partner?)
physically: feel like he's the kinda guy to like eyes. he's big on eye contact, so loves to look into your pretty eyes
mentally: I think he ironically likes morally good people. ones that are honest, selfless, kind. someone who has a good heart
B = baby (do they want a family? why/why not?)
I think yes, eventually, but because of work, there never seems to be the right time. if it happens, it happens. if it doesn't, it doesn't. but I don't think he's one to plan for one
C = cuddle (how do they like to cuddle?)
im thinking the ones when he leaves for work are his favourite. where you'd be standing by the door, arms wrapped around his middle, face in the crook of his neck, holding him tight. similarly, ones when he returns home and you're just so happy to see him
D = dreams (how do they picture their future with their S/O?)
I think the whole lot - married, kids, move somewhere when kids move out or when retire, then grow old and pruney together
E = emotions (are they open with their emotions?)
absolutely not, but he tries. he tells you he loves you and how special you are etc, but doesn't often share things bothering him or on his mind - he tends to keep that part separate
F = feelings (when did they know they’re in love?)
I think probably very early on. maybe when he realised you could keep up with him and play along with his humour. or that you could see through him right away and not be afraid of him
G = gratitude (how grateful are they in general? are they aware of what their S/O does for them?)
yes, beyond grateful!! appreciates everything you do at home to keep things running smoothly when he's away. loves your cooking, appreciates how you love and care for him. he tells you often with words, also with gifts
H = honesty (do they have secrets they hide from their S/O?)
frankly, I think he keeps lots hidden/ doesn't share the whole truth about things. definitely minimises them too - "only a scrape," and he got shot in the arm. he does it so he doesn't scare you or fill you with dread. but he definitely tries to be more open
I = injury (how would they react if you got hurt?)
if someone hurt you? immediate death. not even a logical thought in his brain (won't actually (well...) kill them, but would have a strong desire to) if you hurt yourself he's tell you to be more careful and would help patch yourself up
J = jealousy (do they get jealous? how do they deal with it)
HA HA yes. absolutely. he's gotten better at handling it tho!! bc he now knows that he takes you home at night, not some minger at a bar. he def tries to intimidate the person talking to/ hitting on you and stares them down til they take the hint and back off
K = kiss (how do they kiss you? how do they like to be kissed?)
im thinking slow and sloppy. again ones when you say goodbye (or when he returns home) ones that are filled with love
L = love (who says ‘I love you’ first?)
I think maybe you. he's loved you long before you admitted it, but he's not into getting rejected so he makes sure you feel the same way first (even though it's obvious you do)
M = memory (what’s their favorite memory together?)
when you first started dating and you surprised him at the airport to pick him up. just seeing your cute pretty face light up with love when you spot him
N = nickel (do they spoil? do they buy the person they love everything?)
you kidding??? baby, you're getting EVERYTHING you could ever want
O = on cloud nine (what are they like when they’re in love? is it obvious to others? how do they express their feelings?)
completely smitten!! although he tries to keep your love life private, that face he makes when he's looking at you definitely gives it away. gets heart eyes, bc I say so
P = pet names (what pet names do they use?)
the best kinds. darling, love, honey, sweetheart, but not every syllable/ letter is pronounced bc his cockney accent - so like darling, with no g. it's an english thing so he says them all the time to everyone, but he has special ones that he only says to you or ways that he says them to just you - so they’re special
Q = questions (what are the questions they’re always asking?)
"im at the shop, do you want anything?" "where do you wanna go for dinner?" but he's not really one to ask philosophical questions
R = rainy day (what do they like to do on a rainy day?)
this is sfw so can't say what I usually would. but probs just movies on the sofa. maybe shared naps on the couch, or doing your own things in the same space - you reading, him filling out stuff on his laptop
S = support (are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? do they believe in them?)
very very supportive. for you only, he's a great hypeman. encourages and pushes you along when you get stuck
T = talking (what do they like to talk about?)
I honestly don't think he enjoys talking that much. he's quite quiet and it can be comforting BUT.. again, he's english so complains about the shitty government all the time. idc if this is self-indulgent, but he hates the tories so he gets passionate about politics (absolutely no way that man is right wing)
U = understanding (how well do they know their partner? are they empathetic?)
he's the kind of person who listens when you don't think they are - he keeps catalogues of information about you in his brain, like your favourite childhood movie, your least favourite smell, all these simple facts about you - he remembers. he knows you better than you know yourself, so I do think he has a deep understanding of his partner. he's not necessarily empathetic all the time, but he has his moments where he is the sweetest
V = value (how important is the relationship to them? what is it worth in comparison to other things in their life?)
nothing else can or will ever compete or compare. you'd be the singularly most important thing to him, end of. he cares about his work and money ig, but when it comes down to the very core of it, none of that really matters
W = wedding (when, where, and how do they propose?)
I think both the proposal and wedding would be somewhere remote, quiet and intimate - somewhere that has meaning to you both. thinking late summer/ early autumn (he doesn't like the heat, so when it cools down)
X = XOXO (how affectionate are they? in public/in private)
he's not one for pda but at the same time, he likes people knowing you're his - so a hand on your knee/ thigh, a hand around your waist, sitting close to you. not a fan of making out in public, but doesn't refrain from a quick kiss here and there if he really can't help himself
but in private..?? he's all over you. kisses, lingering touches on your back when he walks past, hugs you from behind when you're doing bits around the house
Y = yearning (how well do they cope when they’re separated from their S/O?)
not good. he gets all mopey when he doesn't see you for a while, but can't let that get in the way of work, so when he's back at the hotel or car or somewhere safe he sends you a text, asking how you are, what you're up to. he just hates being apart from you
Z = zeal (are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship?)
dude, he will literally kill and die for you
would rather choke than admit he is wrong - but at the root of it, he is willing to confess to mistakes if things were to ever get too far
— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —
#request#tangerine#tangerine x reader#tangerine bullet train#tangerine x you#tangerine headcanon#tangerine fluff#tangerine x fem!reader#sfw alphabet
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NEEDY: NIKO OMILANA
Authors note: based on this request. Forgot to reply to it and didn’t realise til I was done🙄 but anyways… a little heated guys.
Warnings: making out! Touching! Dry humping and two horny bitches. Minors dni
…
The entire day had passed by in a blur, the countless errands you had to run keeping you transfixed on getting everything done. For the past 5 hours, you had practically ignored everything else, which also meant your boyfriend.
Finally, once you’ve gotten comfortable in the comfort of your own flat, you let yourself relax into the soft pillows littered around your couch. Your phone which had been on do not disturb came back to life again, showing you the amount of messages you had received from Niko.
Niko:
Babe
Bae
Hello?
The one time I’m in a crisis you decide not to be on your phone??? Really.
The fact that you have on do not disturb knowing damn well I’m hitting that ‘notify anyway’ button is too funny🤣
5:31 pm
Niko:
Babyyyyy
Where are you????
I’m so fucking bored
Aj won’t stop waffling in my ear about shit I couldn’t care less about😐😐 like bro I don’t give a fuck where you like it
5:52 pm
Niko:
It’s really hot in here
And I’m not feeling to week yk
Please come… help me?
6:39 pm
With his last text being half an hour earlier, you opt to call him, feeling bad for not being available sooner. The phone hasn’t even started ringing properly when Niko picks up.
“Love, what’s wrong with you?” Is the first thing you say, just choosing to be straightforward about it instead of beating round the bush.
For some reason, he swerves your question. “You need to come over here, like right now.” His words are a whisper, which reminds you he should be in the middle of a shoot. At your lack of answer, he impatiently prods for an answer. “Y/n?”
“Shouldn’t you be doing a shoot?” You pick up the remote, getting ready to stay in after talking your boyfriend out of his so-called boredom. “Niko get back to that.”
“No, baby, you don’t get it.” He whines quietly, aware the boys around him would never let him live it down if they heard. Luckily, they were speaking with the camera crew, allowing Niko to be as annoying as he wanted.
“Then give me a good enough reason to get out of my comfy couch, because it’s not looking good for you.” You rest even deeper down in the edge of the cushion, confident he wouldn’t win. “3…2…”
At the sound of the countdown you can hear Niko huff a breath of air, something he did when annoyed. “Seriously?”
“1…..”
“Okay!” He also mutters something under his breath but relaxes. “I need you.”
You would laugh and ask him what his vague words meant if his tone didn’t speak for him. Having known Niko for as long as you did, there was no question about what he meant. You gazed at the clock over your living room walls, contemplating what to do.
“I’ll be there in 10.”
He quickly thanks you, letting you know he had to get back to filming before hanging up. You run a hand through your hair, laughing a little at yourself.
“Imagine being so horny oh my days.”
But there’s no conflict on what to do. Niko’s begging has done something to you, and the need for his touch is everything you can focus on as you get into your car and drive to your boyfriend’s location. It wasn’t often Niko would be willing to beg that much if the two of you weren’t hidden by the comfort of your bedroom walls, but it seemed as today was an exception .
Walking into the all too familiar place you had been to countless times before, you make your way to the room they always shot at. Niko’s eyes met yours the second you stand outside the open door, and he was quick to smile. He’s quiet as the camera’s moving but when they stop for a second, he comes up to you, hands snaking around your waist.
Having missed Niko, you hug him with as much eagerness, placing a chaste kiss on his neck. You can hear them calling for him, but Niko can’t help himself. Taking hold of your jaw, he connects your lips quickly. You’ve only registered what he’s doing when your boyfriend pulls back again.
“Wait 15 minutes, and I’ll make it worth it.”
“Eh, Niko!” Chunkz calls from his seat across the room. “ Keep it pg 13 for the kids around.”
Sharky puts his hands over Aj’s eyes, and Kenny cackles from his spot beside them. Pushing away the hands, Aj rolls his eyes.
“Let’s do that filming again, thank you.”
The 15 minutes were long and painful. You almost couldn’t watch your boyfriend from the sidelines, every move or word he spoke intensifying the warm feeling in the pit of your stomach. He seemed to have noticed because just a few minutes into you being here, he kept looking at you. Sending you looks far from innocent.
You’re scrolling on your phone, bored when the boys are told they can take a quick break. Niko stands up with a subtle grin, as he talks to Sharky about something, but his eyes are on you, making you excited to get him alone.
Your back hits the wall with such force you're about to complain, but Niko silences you with his exploring mouth. He kisses your body with such intensity, you find yourself not even just breathless, but also speechless. There are no words you can use to even paint a faint picture of how you’re feeling.
“I’ve been waiting for this… all day,” Niko says in between kisses, his lips moving from your neck to your mouth.
Kissing him back with as much energy is hard as you already feel dizzy. His height gives him such an advantage that you can’t compete with. Seeing your struggle, Niko lifts you up your legs coming to cross behind his back. He continues kissing you, but now with the addition of rubbing himself against your body.
His actions leave you whining, something he can’t help but groan at. Niko had always loved hearing your response to his actions, it gave him confidence that he wasn’t the only one enjoying it.
“Wait.” You slightly lean away from the kiss, but Niko only continues to kiss down the side of your neck. “Niko.”
“Hmm?”
“Sit down.”
Quirking his eyebrows, he lets you down, taking a seat on the desk. You were unsure what kind of room the two of you had ended up in, but seeing the amount of clutter you could only guess it was some sort of storage place. You had noticed the desk somewhere in between stumbling into the room, and Niko kissing you senseless.
Climbing onto him, you put your hands around his exposed neck. Niko’s hands roam your body as much as he can, hands slipping into your pants to kneed the soft flesh of your ass. You moan slightly as he also gives it a quick slap, wishing more than ever that he would fill you up.
“Niko.” You start, dragging your body over his clothed thighs with the help of his hands on your ass to move you. He doesn’t let you speak, instead, he pulls you into a hard kiss but still continues to move you.
No clothes were off yet, but there was no need because your boyfriend knew exactly how to get you there. He slips one of his hands out of your pants, Instead using it to pull at your hair and make you look at him. “I told you I’d make it worth it, yeah?”
Then he dives into another lustful kiss, continuing to drive you crazy for the rest of the little time you had before someone got overly suspicious.
#niko omilana#niko omilana x reader#beta squad#✭b4tasquad speaks#fiction#Niko omilana x you#Chunkz#AJ shabeel#sharky#Kenny
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Pre-game Panic
Pairing: Katie McCabe x reader
Summary: Katie McCabe. The Irish captain. The bane of your existence. On and off the pitch, always making life harder than necessarily with her unreasonable hatred for you. Despite her attitude, you had a massive crush on her. I mean cmon, she's Katie McCabe how could you not. As an Arsenal team member, you two should get along fabulously. But since the day you signed the contract to join the team, Katie has had it out for you.
Whether it be her attitude, insults or game play, she always found a way to cause you harm. You never understood the woman til a game against Chelsea uncovered the truth behind her actions.
Words: 2000
Warnings: fluff/angst, mean Katie, bad writing, panic attacks (let me know if i missed anything)
____________________________
You've been at Arsenal for 3 months now. You've proved to be a valuable member of the team with the various assists and goals to your name. Everyone loves you, except for the one and only Katie McCabe. For reasons unknown to you, she hates you.
It's game day in Etihad Stadium against Arsenal's rivals, Chelsea. As you and the rest of the team get ready in the change room, nervousness fills you. You're always nervous before a game but this is different. You've always been quiet, never one to talk much and definitely hated conflict. Which is why the Irish woman's unrelenting cruelty towards you impacts you so much.
You've always admired her. Being only 21, you grew up watching and admiring many of your now teammates. Especially Caitlin, Steph and Katie, being the true Irish-Aussie you were. You always admired Katies's determination and passion for the game, throwing her all into every match. But her harsh words and ice cold glares aimed only at you quickly changed your perspective on the older woman.
As you sit in the change rooms trying to calm your racing heart as well as the nauseous feeling that starts to bubble, Katie walks in. The nervous feeling increases tenfold as you sit down attempting to combat the dizziness you suddenly feel.
'Everything alright Y/n?' Caitlin asks with a worried look.
This catches the attention of almost every player. You can feel the eyes of everyone in the room burning into your skin. You simply nod, hoping it's enough the relieve their worries and draw the attention away from you. Most of them accepted the gesture and returned to what they were doing. But you could still feel eyes on you. As you looked up, you make eye contact with Caitlin and manage a weak smile, still seated and trying to calm yourself down.
'She's probably just worried about missing every shot and disappointing everyone. Like normal' Katie pipes up.
'Can we please not do this right now' you whisper, unable to do much more with the overwhelming feelings of pure fear and nervousness.
'What was that, darling?' Katie says with a condescending smile.
The look on her face has you ready to walk out. But this is an important game for your team and you don't want to let her win this ridiculous feud she seems to have created.
'Nothing asshole' you reply. Eyes still trained on your boots.
'What did you just call me?' Katie responds angrily.
As she slowly approaches you from the other side of the locker room, Steph steps up to her and tells her to back off, pointing out that not only did she start it but she always starts it and right now everyone needs to focus on the game.
But you don't realise Steph had stopped her, stuck in a trance as you wait for her to be standing above you, angry and ready to go.
The thought has you nearly hyperventilating.
Normally you would just roll your eyes and move on despite Katie's cruelty. But with already being on the verge of a panic attack, Katie's clear anger sent you into a new level of fear.
As you abruptly stand and attempt to leave the room, Steph turns around and holds your arms, trying to get you to meet her eyes as your breathing picks up.
'Hey, what's wrong?' Steph calmly asks.
You quickly glance up at her, eyes wide and hands shaking, you simply shake your head and attempt to turn and run. Steph, being stronger and taller, is able to keep hold of you as you try to wiggle out of her grip.
She pulls your head against her chest and she orders everyone out of the room. Caitlin Foord moves around next to Steph and does her best to help your breathing settle while Katie just stands there looking shocked and guilty. Nothing seems to help you calm down as Steph keeps holding you and Caitlin keeps talking to you.
Katie, finally stepping in moves to your side and pushes Caitlin out of the way and stands in front of you. She watches as your eyes frantically move around the locker room and your body shakes in Catley's arms.
'Y/n, look at me' Katie's firm and demanding voice draws your attention to her as you make eye contact with the woman. She wraps an arm around your waist and firmly squeezes in attempt to ground you.
'What are 5 things you can see?' she gently asks.
'You....Cait....the benches....the clock on the wall....bags' you manage through your rough breathing and frantic form.
'Good job love, now what are 4 things you can feel?' Katie asks
'Steph...your hand on my waist...and, I don't know, i'm sorry.' you squeak out as your breathing starts to pick up again.
'That's okay, you're doing so good. Keep going for me yeah? What are 3 things you can hear?' She tried again to calm you down.
'Your voice...Steph's heart beat..the team outside' your breath slowing near the end making it easier to talk.
'Good job, darling. Now 2 thing you can smell' she whispers in your ear having moved closer to you.
'Your perfume and and Steph's smelly jersey' you giggle at the end along with the other women, your breathing having nearly returned to normal.
'That's it darling, and what's 1 thing you can taste' Katie whispers looking at me as I stare at her.
'The gum i was chewing earlier' you mumble out in exhaustion.
'You did so good angel' Katie replies as Steph carefully guides your body into Katie's arms.
As you and Katie move to sit on a nearby bench, she moves you to have you straddling her waist as she leans against the wall, your head falling into her neck as you near the point of sleep.
'I'm so sorry I hurt you' you hear Katie whisper before you fall asleep against her.
_____________________________
As you come to, groggy and still drained, Katie makes her presence know.
'You're okay, i'm here' she mumbles into your hair.
You quickly shoot up after hearing her voice and realising she wasn't just next to you, she was under you.
As you try to remove yourself from on her you mumble a quick 'I'm sorry'. But before you could finish your apology or move, Katie pulled you back down on top of her and whispered to you
'No, i'm sorry. I had no right to treat you the way i did. I was awful to you to the point where I caused you a panic attack. I never realised how much i was hurting you. I'm so sorry, Y/n.'
You listen to her with your head in her neck, the same way you fell asleep and woke up. You thought about what she said and couldn't help but ask;
'Why do you hate me Katie?'
'I don't hate you darling.' she replies
'Then why' you ask angrily
'I didn't mean for it to go this far. It started as just a thing we do to the new players but I took it way too far. It was never my intention to be so cruel and rude. It was meant to be a joke. I promise you I do not hate you, I could never hate you.' she whispered the last part, mostly to herself but you heard her.
You sat up to look at her.
'What's that supposed to mean?' you stare at her as she looks away, unable to make eye contact.
'Ever since you joined the team, I haven't been able to get you off my mind. Maybe it's why i took it too far, so annoyed that you were all i could think about, I tried to hate you and give you a reason to hate me.' she says, finally meeting my eyes.
'What are you saying Katie?' you ask, demanding a straight forward answer to clear the confusion and surprise.
'I'm saying I love you Y/n Y/l/n. I've loved you since the moment I saw you. I know i've been so awful to you but I can't help but love you.'
You sit on top of her, holding yourself up with your hands on her shoulders, hers on your waist, completely shocked. You've always admired her and had the biggest crush on her but to hear her confess her love to you made your heart sore and brings you to the point of near tears.
'I'm sorry, please don't cry. I didn't mean to make you upset i-'
Her sentence cut off by your lips on hers. This feels so perfect, like this is the way it's meant to be. You melt into her and the contact as she runs her hands up and down your back as you make out in the change rooms. Oh no. The game.
You abruptly rip yourself off her as she jumps up to calm you down.
'The game. Oh my god I forgot about it. What time is it? When does it start?' You frantically spit out spinning in circles trying to settle your mind and pull yourself together preparing to play, until a hand on your waist and face draw your attention back to the Irish woman and her smirk.
'Hey, it's over, it's okay. We won. Steph went to tell Jonas we were sick or something, whatever she came up with. It's all okay, you're okay love.' she says and her smirk only grows at the way you react to her touch, arms curl around her neck as you place your forehead against hers.
'I can't believe you let me sleep through it, asshole' you say against her as she laughs.
'There'll be plenty more games to play darlin'. Now should we head off?' she asks
'Yeah I wanna go home to bed, i'm so tired.' you state. Katie looks at you guiltily and says;
'I'm sorry I hurt you, I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you baby'
'Please, just don't do it again. Please don't hurt me.' you beg as Katie wraps her arms around you and says
'Never. I would never dream of hurting you y/n. I promise love' she says on the verge of tears
You lean into her and look up at her.
'I love you, Katie McCabe'
She smiles, looks in your eyes and says
'I love you, Y/n Y/l/n'
You smile at her. After you two have gathered your things, you walk out to see Steph and Caitlin, giving them both a hug, assuring them you're okay and thanking them for helping you. Steph kisses you on the head and warns Katie not to hurt you while you're hugging Cait. You walk out of the stadium hand in hand with Katie and head back to your house. As soon as you enter the house, Katie picks you up and runs into what she assumes is your bedroom and throws you on the bed, climbing on top of you as you both burst into a fit of giggles.
'Cmon pretty girl, let's get some rest' she smiles at you and then kisses you.
You both get changed out of your kits into more comfy clothes and climb into bed. While you lay on top of her like a koala, she has one arm wrapped around your thigh and the other across your back.
As you slowly drift off to sleep you hear her whisper;
'I love you, darling. Thank you for giving me a chance'
Before sleep consumes you, you mange a response.
'Love you Katie, always have, always will'
The woman below you smiles, as she hears your breathing even out before following your lead and falling asleep.
___________________________
an: not gonna lie, never written in my life before but oh well lol
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shy!reader being embarrassed to ask eddie if he wants to make-out😭and he’s just completely in awe when she whispers under her breath what she wants… because OF COURSE he does how could he not kiss the sweetest girl in the world
this is such a cute idea pls I love him. not proofread!! & def too long to be a blurb lol
shy!fem!reader 1.3k words
Eddie always kisses you when he picks you up from work. Always. He waits for you to get in, grins at you like you’re the best thing in his life, says something along the lines of “hi, pretty girl,” and then leans across his seat to give you a sweet kiss, seatbelt pulled taut across his chest.
So you should be used to it. Used to his smiling mouth on yours and his hand on your shoulder or cupping your jaw. You aren’t.
As expected, you slide in the passenger seat and Eddie’s beaming.
“Hey, pretty,” he says.
You smile back, much more shy than him but no less fond. “Hi, Eddie.”
Eddie’s smile grows somehow wider and, as always, leans across to kiss you. One hand cups your face while the other spreads over your thigh. His hand placement results in you being a flustered mess before he’s even kissed you. It gets worse when he does kiss you, when it feels longer than usual, more firm. Something about the whole thing sets your skin on fire and has your stomach rolling.
Eddie seems no less affected than usual. He pulls back with his charming smile and starts the van. Meanwhile, you’re trying not to stare too hard at his hands, their weight having left what feels like scorch marks on your skin, or his mouth, all kiss-bitten. You want him to kiss you again so badly it makes your heart race.
“Y/N? Did you hear what I said?”
You blink. Eddie’s talking to you, you realise. “Sorry, what?”
Eddie chuckles softly. “I asked how your day was,” He says patiently, thankfully forgoing any teasing related to your daydreaming.
“Oh.” You smile and try to look more casual than you feel. Your mind is still spinning from the kiss, mouth tingling with want for more. “It was okay.”
“Yeah?” Eddie drums his fingers on the steering wheel. The wind gushing throw the window makes his wild curls dance. “Any grumpy old ladies to deal with?”
You giggle. Yesterday, you’d told Eddie all about an elderly woman who’d got angry at you for the library not having the book she wanted. As if it was your fault.
“No,” you say, huffing amusedly. “What about you?”
Eddie wrinkles his nose. “No grumpy old ladies, if that’s what you’re asking.”
You snort. “That’s not what I meant!” You say, though you’re sure he knows.
Eddie laughs loud and it’s music to your ears. He’s got such a nice laugh. It only makes the flame in your chest grow.
“Sorry, babe,” he says. He reaches over and pats your thigh, his eyes on the road. “My day was good, thanks.” He sneaks a glance at you and you know what’s coming before he says it, “Better now you’re here.”
You huff like he’s insufferable. He isn’t, of course, but you like to pretend he is. The rest of the short ride to Eddie’s trailer is spent with Eddie drumming along to the radio, and you trying not to show how badly you want to kiss him.
It doesn’t get any easier when you arrive at the trailer. You sit on Eddie’s bed while he picks away at his guitar, his back against the edge of the bed. He’s shed his jacket and tossed it over the bed post. Underneath he’s wearing a sleeveless band tee that makes his arms look so good you think you might scream.
“What does that look mean?” Eddie asks casually.
You start and realise he can see you watching him in the mirror across from his bed. You meet his reflection’s eyes and your cheeks go warm. Well, warm-er.
“What look?”
“You look like you’re bursting to say something,” Eddie says. He sets down his guitar gently and gets up on his knees, twisting so he can face you. “What’s up, honey?”
“Nothing,” you say. I just want to kiss you til you can’t breathe.
Eddie squints at you like he doesn’t believe you. Before you can fix your features to look like you’re not lying he’s climbing onto the bed and plonking down in front of you.
“You’re a bad liar,” he says, a cheeky smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Tell me what’s wrong, hm? Are you hungry? Tired? Do you want a hug?”
You think it’s sweet how worried he is about you. You’d be endeared but it if you weren’t so embarrassed about what you actually want. A hug does sound nice, though. Maybe it will put out the flame that’s burning in your chest.
“A hug would be nice,” you say, and hold your arms out. You’re past being too shy for hugs. You’re yet to conquer being too shy for kisses.
Eddie falls into your arms heavily, his chin hooking over your shoulder while his arms go around your middle. It’s a nice kind of heavy, though. His scent washes over you. Something woody, something metallic. His cologne, a little musky and a lot attractive.
You’re disappointed to realise the hug does nothing to get rid of your problem. In fact, it makes it worse. Having him this close makes you dizzy. Having him this close also makes you think about how he’s near enough to kiss, to take his face in your hands and press your mouth to his until he’s as dizzy as you feel.
You think your thoughts are showing on your face because when Eddie pulls away, he takes one look at you and frowns.
“I don’t think that worked,” he says, half joking but half serious, too. “That wasn’t what was wrong, was it, baby?”
Baby. You don’t have it in you to lie to him again. You shake your head silently.
Eddie grins. “I knew it!” He declares. He bridges the gap between you again to take your face in his hands. You’re already hot as a furnace and you’re sure your skin burns like wildfire under his touch. He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t acknowledge it, only stares at you so intensely you think you might melt. “Tell me what’s wrong, angel.”
You swallow. He’s very convincing when he wants to be.
“Um,” you say. “It’s embarrassing.”
Eddie’s eyes lose their fire and go soft. “Tell me, sweetheart,” he says, earnest and soft at the same time. “I promise I won’t laugh.”
You know he won’t laugh. In fact, he’ll probably indulge you on the spot. Still, you’re embarrassed.
“I, um. Do you …?” You stop halfway, unsure how to say it, unsure how to ask. Unsure if you should ask.
Eddie’s hands slide to your shoulders and squeeze. “Do I what, angel?”
You stare at his chest when you say it, your voice barely a whisper. “Do you … want to make out?”
You cringe as soon as you say it. Pull away from Eddie and hide your hands in your face, your heartbeat like a drum in your ears.
Eddie protests. “Hey, where are you going?” He asks, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “Come back out, sweet girl, please.”
You do not come back out. You hide and wish the floor would swallow you up. Your heart jumps to your throat when Eddie’s hands find your thighs and pull, pull until you’re half in his lap and he can get his fingers around your wrists.
“Come out,” he begs, tugging at your wrists with much less force than he’s capable of. “Please, angel.”
You let him pry your hands from your face but refuse to look him in the eye, staring at a point over his shoulder instead. Eddie huffs and gets his hand on your jaw to tilt your head until you’re forced to look at him properly. You grumble something incoherent.
“Y/N,” Eddie says. He’s grinning like mad. “Of course I want to make out with you. Are you kidding?”
You gawp. You’d expected teasing, at the very least. “You do?”
Eddie chuckles like he can’t believe you. “Is that hard to believe?” He asks, amused. “Of course I do.”
“Oh.”
Eddie grins. The fire in your chest rises to your throat.
“Yeah. Oh,” he says, and leans in to kiss you.
Your heart pounds. And it doesn’t stop pounding for the next half hour.
-
#sorry if this sucks I didn’t proofread it that well lolzies#★ mal writes!#ღ eds#eddie munson#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie munson x shy!reader#✉️
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Tokyo Machine
Karaoke is the newest 80's rage from overseas, and the Wheeler's got themselves one of those machines. Time to get drunk and accidentally(?) confess your undying love for Edward Munson.
Eddie Munson x gn!reader
MASTERLIST
Pure fluff, I promise you'll get a toothache
1.2K words
After the past weeks' events, Hawkins's people seemed to be more relaxed than ever. It was strange, really. A lot of people had died, gone missing. People were traumatised, yet the public seemed serene. The chaos had reminded them of how little time there was, and the time there was, had to be enjoyed.
The world was burning, so might as well enjoy it while it lasts.
Eddie's recovery had gone by faster than expected. The bats had left some gnarly-looking scars scattered over his body, but they made him look even more badass. Even sexier.
Your feelings for Eddie were a recent development, as far as you were aware. You supposed they'd always been present, lingering in the back of your mind. But him nearly dying was what'd ignited the spark that made you realise you viewed him differently from your other friends.
So you were here, living in the present. There might not be a tomorrow.
Robin's fingers waved in front of your face, and you snapped out of your Eddie-induced trance. Once the realisation had been made, you found yourself staring. At first, the looks had been fleeting, but they'd turned into full-blown stares as time passed. Robin laughed at your panicked expression. You shoved her with a glare.
"Man, you've got it bad." She laughed as she reached for a beer.
The elder teens had gathered for a night of relaxation and fun. The Wheeler's recently bought a Karaoke Machine, imported straight from Tokyo, Japan. Karaoke seemed to be the newest rage across the US. It was about time you all had a go.
When Steve finally got the machine up and running, he took the first turn. If anybody had told you 3 years ago, you'd be in Nancy Wheeler's basement, watching Steve Harrington sing 1985's Take On Me by a-ha, along with Robin Buckley and Eddie Munson, you'd laugh in their face.
You were laughing now too, but for a whole different reason. Steve's drunken face, as he tried to hit the high notes, was indescribable.
"Maybe squeeze your balls a little, Harrington. That'll help you hit those notes!" Eddie piped up. Nancy cackled as Steve flipped him the bird.
Steve sank to his knees at the end of the song like a true rockstar. You all hollered and cheered for the phenomenal performance.
"Your turn, Wheeler." Was all he said before he handed Nancy the mic and plopped back down on the couch.
Nancy's pick of the night was 'Live To Tell', Madonna's newest hit. The ballad suited her well. You smiled as you took another gulp. Nancy got lost in the song, and it was obvious she'd practised this routine with her hairbrush at least a dozen times.
As the song continued, you noticed how intoxicated you felt. Everything was fuzzy. You were happy. You were surrounded by your friends. Your friends who survived with you. Eddie was here. Eddie was laughing.
'Oh, c'mon, Wheeler. Boring. No more ballads tonight, people! Now give me that mic.' Eddie shot out of the armchair and snatched the microphone from Nancy as soon as she'd finished.
You glanced over Eddie's shoulder to try and see which song he would pick but to no avail. When the intro started, however, all jaws dropped. You all expected him to pick some metal song to scream his lungs out to and wake the neighbours.
He did not just pick Kiss by Prince.
But sure enough.
You don't have to be beautiful
To turn me on
I just need your body, baby
From dusk 'til dawn
You don't need experience
To turn me out
You just leave it all up to me
I'm gonna show you what it's all about
You didn't know his voice could even go that high. You laughed in disbelief as he continued singing the song, entirely unbothered by the giggles of his friends.
I want to be your fantasy
Maybe you could be mine
You just leave it all up to me
We could have a good time, uh
His eyes caught yours, a big grin on his face. While Nancy's performance had looked practised, this definitely wasn't the first time Eddie had sung this song.
You were a goner. This man was it for you. You could see it now. Long road trips, just the two of you. You and Eddie. Riding in his van, singing all your favourite songs with the windows all the way down. The wind in your hair. Eddie grinning as you got lost in the song. You and him against the world.
Ain't no particular sign
I'm more compatible with
I just want your extra time and your
-
-
-
Kiss
Eddie blew you all a kiss as he sat back down. Jaws had yet to be picked up from the floor. "Didn't know you had it in you, Eddie." Nancy laughed.
Your smile was quickly wiped from your face as Robin pushed you towards the machine. You sighed as you made up your mind. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but you picked a new song. You'd wanted to sing a Cindy Lauper song, but the new choice seemed more appropriate.
"I'm gonna be singing a bit of an older song if you don't mind." You spoke with your back to the group, trying to find the song you'd set your mind on.
As the intro started, Eddie's eyes bulged out of his head. The melody was an all too familiar one. His mom used to sing it to him all the time. Robin was the only other one to immediately recognise the song, a look of disbelief, almost pride, spreading across her face.
Eddie my love, I love you so
How I've waited for you you'll never know
Please, Eddie, don't make me wait too long
Steve was about to burst out laughing, watching Eddie's lovesick gaze. Nancy quickly slapped her hand over his mouth to not ruin the moment.
You didn't know if you'd perhaps misread the situation, but your inhibitions weren't the same as they were when you were sober. You continued singing with your eyes closed. You poured your heart into the song as the rest sat and listened.
Eddie Eddie, I love you so
Eddie, please write me one line
Tell me your love is still only mine
Please Eddie don't make me wait too long
You couldn't help but smile as you sang. You'd hummed the tune to yourself a couple of times but never dared to dream this would be how you'd confess your feelings.
The song quickly came to an end, only lasting about 2 minutes.
As you were about to sing the last lines, you felt arms wrap around you and a head rest on your shoulder. Eddie swayed you as he laughed. When you didn't sing the next line due to shock and butterflies, he nudged you to continue singing.
Eddie my love
I love you so
You couldn't contain your laughter as Eddie spun you around in his arms, rapidly planting kisses all over your face. Lastly, he placed one long, lingering kiss on your lips, his hands leaving your waist to gently place them on your cheeks.
"About damn time," Steve uttered as he swung his arm over Nancy's shoulder, pulling her close.
Yeah, the world might be ending, but you were right where you needed to be. Surrounded by your friends, with Eddie by your side.
#Eddie munson#Eddie Munson x reader#Eddie Munson fluff#Eddie Munson x you#eddie munson x gn!reader#eddie munson x gender neutral reader#eddie munson fanfic#Eddie Munson fanfiction#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson oneshot#stranger things#stranger things s4#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things x reader#stranger things fanfic#stranger things x you#stranger things imagine#stranger things fic
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the stuff that happened to you in australia is wild, are you sure you're not stanley yelnats
Lol ya know sometimes I'll watch that film and think "this seems familiar" haha!
I don't talk about it much at all, and only a few people in my real life know the whole story. It happened 14 years ago but there are times when I think back to all the shit I did and risky decisions I made and wonder how I survived. At the same time I remember all the people who legit saved me at various points.
The Israeli guy who found me outside my hostel in sydney stressed and jetlagged and all alone and offered to take me to the beach for the few hours before I was able to check in. He bought me lunch. He kept a nervous half asleep and already sunburnt british girl company for my first few hours in Australia and was such a lovely guy. Not once did it feel like he had nefarious intentions.
The coach driver from Dubbo to Burke who saw a young girl all alone waiting to be picked up by a sadistic farmer who decided last minute not to pick me up til the next day so I was stuck at the Burke coach station at night all alone - the coach driver found me a hotel and paid for me for the night, he called his wife and got her to speak to me and give me her number as they were worried about me. They tried to convince me not to go to the farm - I should have listened.
The two Australian brothers who were on a hunting trip with their two young boys, who stayed on the sadistic farmers property and realised I was distressed, scared, and had no way out, and offered to smuggle me off his farm at 5am and take me back to Burke.
The Aussie guy who found me at the coach station in Dubbo after my long escape, asked if I was okay, and if I knew where the hostel was, and when I said no and burst into tears he found a hostel for me, called them and gave me a lift to the other side of town and got me checked in. Once I was there I knew I was safe, and the hostel manager got me in contact with the Aussie authorities to report my experience. Again, another saviour who wanted nothing but to know I was okay.
Its funny writing it down now, the good parts anyway, because each time I put my faith in strangers, all of them men, and in all circumstances it could have gone very bad, but miraculously in all circumstances for me they all just genuinely wanted to help.
I used to joke that my superpower was playing the damsel in distress and making men genuinely want to save me. But the fact is, I WAS a damsel in distress, and I WAS saved, by good decent people every time. The time I spent on the farm was horrible. I don't like to think about it much. I didn't come to any physical harm, but mentally it was the worst experience of my life - but I do try to remember the people who saved me. Who took care of me and extended kindness my way when I really needed it. Its made me a better person I think.
But anyway thats why I hate country music with a fiery passion. If you listen to it on repeat for 2 weeks whilst stuck in a prison of mind games, fear, and constant threats on your life, you start making associations. In the section of Hell reserved just for me, they play country music round the clock.
#I've been saying for years that i should write a book about it#but i doubt anyone would believe it#lol#too many rescues by random people#its too far fetched#even i dont believe it sometimes and i experienced it#anyway thats why i hate country music#personal#asks
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2. "Is Alec Tricity there? I need to speak with Alec Tricity, please."
PAYPHONE - "No, but I got a feeling Al Kickurass is gonna make an appearance if you ever call this number again. Have a good one, asshole!"
Phone hanging up.
Disconnect tone.
Ok, that's enough-
Put 10 cents in and dial a random number: 005-99-77-313.
[Leave.]
Um. Harry?
PAYPHONE - Calling...
Calling...
Calling...
Still calling...
*Still* calling…
"Stop calling me, man!" Someone picks up. The voice on the other end is slightly hysterical.
"I'll get you your money, alright? I just need 'til tonight. Let me work."
"Uh… who is this?"
"Yes, but a slight change of plans -- I want this delivered to the Whirling-in-Rags in Martinaise."
"We could all be a bit kinder to each other, don't you think? Consider your debt paid, my friend."
"You seem to be in some sort of trouble. Maybe I can help you, I'm a police officer."
PAYPHONE - "Tethys, I uh..." The young man realises something. "Hey, you're not Tethys! Screw you and don't ever call here again, you're fucking with some *serious* people!"
Disconnect tone.
KIM KITSURAGI - "Khm..." A single *khm* lets you know the lieutenant is ready to move now.
Kim is right. We should stop.
Put 10 cents in and dial a random number: 005-11-11-313.
[Leave.]
PAYPHONE - Calling...
"I'm tired…" A man answers, fast this time. His voice is hoarse from cigarettes. You hear typing in the background.
PERCEPTION (HEARING) [Medium: Success] - Sounds like he hasn't talked to anyone in quite a while.
"What are you tired of?"
"I'm tired too."
"Is there anything I can do to help you? I'm with the police."
PAYPHONE - "If I could go just one month without writing. No, two months... I could regenerate my brain. Fucking liberalism..."
The man disappears with a sigh.
You do not hear the customary disconnect tone, just silence in the handset -- the machine is still waiting for you to dial a number.
LOGIC [Easy: Success] - Seems like it did not have time to swallow the coin. This sometimes happens.
INTERFACING [Trivial: Success] - Lucky you. The call went too fast for the payphone to register. You can still make a new one without paying.
[Interfacing - Medium 10] Dial a random number -- with your eyes closed.
[Leave.]
+1 White mourning...
+1 Smells like betrayal...
We no longer have the thought, but we would also get +1 from Sorry Cop here.
INTERFACING [Medium: Success] - You close your eyes and put your index finger on the rotary dial, then pull down on the number, then move one up and repeat the motion, twice...
Strange. This is not how you started before.
Wait -- what did I just do?
Keep dialling...
Stop!
INTERFACING - You dialled 001. This is not the area code of Revachol. It is another destination -- on another isola. Some far-off nation state.
ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] - 005 is Revachol ZoC -- 001 is Graad, on the Graadian isola, where the telephone was invented. The next two digits you dial are the area code for the city of Mirova...
Keep dialling...
INTERFACING - 41 -- 44 -- 47 -- the rotary dial feels cold from the sea air.
Keep dialling...
INTERFACING - 11 -- 17 -- 361 -- your fingers keep moving like a spider, every time the ring rotates back with a little ring of metal, like a bell tolling.
There's more?
INTERFACING - Yes. 451 -- 67 -- 451 -- you are going deeper now, into some unknown place. Far away from this island of matter and its telecommunication networks....
Finish it.
INTERFACING - 451 -- you have dialled god knows how many numbers. The headset has been waiting silently to relay a signal -- surely nothing can come of this, you think. But it does. A connection.
PAYPHONE - An ultra-long-distance call. Your ear fills with a crackle, the wash of a strange ocean full of white noise. A little bird starts ringing in there, not like the local calling tone before. No, a small ring in a cage of distortion, far away, a distant network of phones...
Calling...
Calling in the night....
EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - The saddest sound in the world.
HALF LIGHT [Medium: Success] - Both pitiful and terrifying. You feel your pulse rising with each ring...
PAYPHONE - Calling still...
ENDURANCE [Easy: Success] - The handset starts slipping from your sweaty palm... your breathing is heavy.
"Kim..."
[Volition - Impossible 18] Hang it up.
Let it call more.
KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant is too far away to hear your yelp. The sea wind blows...
2. [Volition - Impossible 18] Hang it up.
VOLITION [Impossible: Failure] - You can't. Some strange force is keeping the headset glued to your hand, your ear listening to the ring in the speaker...
PAYPHONE - Calling...
Calling...
Calling...
Calling...
Calling still...
Then the ocean breaks. Out of the depths, a woman's voice emerges. Small. The dearest thing you've ever heard.
PAYPHONE - "Hello." She sounds sleepy.
"Hello."
"I want to die."
"Who is this?"
"I'm a revolutionary servant of humanity. I will free mankind and abolish the classes. I will raise the dead." (Proceed.)
"Your voice is so beautiful."
"Good bye."
PAYPHONE - "Mhm," she hums, her voice warm from sleep.
"Who is this?"
3. "Who is this?"
PAYPHONE - "Dora." She's still confused. "Who is this? The connection is bad..."
INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Success] - Dora. The name feels like a *gift*. A gift that was meant for you -- to make it possible to live.
PERCEPTION (HEARING) [Medium: Success] - In the distorted distance you hear someone turning next to her. Bedsprings rattle.
VOLITION [Easy: Success] - Don't react. Whatever you do, don't react to that last thing.
"Is someone *there*?"
Don't react.
PERCEPTION (HEARING) - It doesn't matter if you react or not. You still think you hear a *man's* voice in the background. It's covered in pain and white noise...
2. "I want to die."
PAYPHONE - "What?" It takes a second for her to realize what you said.
"I don't know why I said that."
"Your voice makes me want to turn into dust."
"I want to live -- with you..."
PAYPHONE - "Oh no... is that you?" Her voice sounds like she's waking up now. Still plaintive, tired...
CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - This is too much... You need to recede...
"A creature is a creature. I wish I was the wind."
"No."
PAYPHONE - "Oh no, not this... what time is it?"
5. "Your voice is so beautiful."
PAYPHONE - "No-no..." She's waking up now. "It's *you*, isn't it? It's you..."
6. "Good bye."
PAYPHONE - A sigh. She heard you, but she does not hang up. And neither do you. You can't.
4. "I'm a revolutionary servant of humanity. I will free mankind and abolish the classes. I will raise the dead." (Proceed.)
PAYPHONE - "You're not a revolutionary, Harry... You're drunk."
-1 Morale
LOGIC [Medium: Success] - You only have two, maybe three things left to say before the change runs out.
"Harry? How do you know my name?"
"Harry? Who's Harry -- are you sleeping with him? I'm also Harry!"
"I'm not drunk."
"Okay I'm drunk, what does it matter? I'm still *me*!"
"I'm not drunk -- I'm *high*."
"I'm not drunk or high, I'm just... hurt... why does it hurt to talk to you?"
PAYPHONE - "Because it's me... Look, I don't understand what you're saying or why you're calling me. You seem drunk."
4. "I'm not drunk or high, I'm just... hurt... why does it hurt to talk to you?"
PAYPHONE - "Oh god..." There's silence, it's heavy as tin. The white noise howls.
"Hey."
"Ooo... are you there?"
Say nothing.
PAYPHONE - "Do you know what time it is? It's so late here..." Sounds like she's looking for a clock on the night stand.
"It's four o'clock, Harry! I need to wake up in two hours."
It's four o'clock there regardless of what time you call. Blame it on entroponetics, I guess.
"Do you want to party?"
"I want to talk about me. Who am I? You sound like you know me."
"You're in Mirova, right?"
"Where are you going in two hours?"
"I am the law. I'm a detective. I'm doing a case. There's a hanged man."
"Is someone there with you?"
(Hang up.)
PAYPHONE - "No, I want to go to sleep..."
2. "I want to talk about me. Who am I? You sound like you know me."
PAYPHONE - "What do you want to talk about? That we haven't talked about already..."
ENDURANCE [Legendary: Failure] - This is bad, you feel your right hand on the handset cramping up with pain...
-1 Health
3. "You're in Mirova, right?"
PAYPHONE - "Yes, I'm in Mirova. Sleeping."
4. "Where are you going in two hours?"
PAYPHONE - "To work."
"Where?"
Say nothing.
PAYPHONE - "The Academy. Where I work."
"The Academy? That sounds better than my job. I'm happy."
"My job is sad and terrible. It has dead bodies in it."
"Pfft, Academy... my job is *real*."
PAYPHONE - No response, only a sigh. The connection crackles, like burning paper.
-1 Morale
VOLITION [Easy: Success] - What are you doing to yourself right now?
I'm making a funny prank call.
Catastrophic damage.
I don't know... I don't understand what's happening.
VOLITION - You need to stop. Harry. You're killing yourself.
*Can* we?
6. "My heart hurts. I'm gonna have a heart attack."
PAYPHONE - "Oh no... please stop. Please let's just hang up..."
7. "Is someone there with you?"
PAYPHONE - "Yes."
5. "I am the law. I'm a detective. I'm doing a case. There's a hanged man."
PAYPHONE - She does not answer anymore.
"I'm gonna solve it."
"It doesn't matter. This case doesn't matter."
"None of it matters -- not anymore."
"Can you help me solve it? I need to solve it. They won't take me back if I don't."
PAYPHONE - "Harry..."
Disconnect tone -- the machine ran out of money.
Put 10 cents in and dial the long phone number again.
[Leave.]
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ｓｔｒｅｓｓ ｒｅｌｉｅｖｅｒ
🐾Thomas × reader [The Gift part11]
NSFW🔥smuttastic fuckery, hijinks for adults only
° Thomas Raggi/non-binary reader insert
° its the weekend before university finals & you are panicking, but thomas knows how to calm you down
wordcount::: 4,507
° commissioned by my truly amazing baby nibling jace (@wow-ihateithere)💋 [requests are open! but commissions get priority, secure the 6th spot in my cue here!]
° [ITA:] cucciolo: puppy - caro: dear
“It’s four AM.” Hearing your boyfriend’s voice startled you into looking up from your textbook at once. He was standing in the doorway of the study, his hair messed up from the hours of sleep he had been enjoying. “Don’t you think studying can wait- maybe when it isn’t so late, I mean early?”
“Couldn’t sleep.” You mumbled, feeling as if you had been caught doing something embarrassing.
You hadn’t realised how late into the night it had gotten. You had taken yourself out of bed around one o’clock, tired of tossing and turning as your thoughts refused to turn off, or even slow down any. You had known that no distractions would actually succeed in occupying your mind.
So you had turned to the cause of your stress - university. Next week was your final exams for the year and you were feeling wholly unprepared. It was very easy for you to imagine sitting down to take the test only to face a major mental blank. And that daunting glimpse into the future inspired a lot of fear. Fear that couldn’t be easily dismissed, you tried to fight back on it, but the logic that you held was shaky.
‘I’ll feel better once I’ve gone over this concept’, you had thought to yourself as you sat down on the sofa, beginning to read.
After a lot of reading, a new thought had come to you, ‘I need to give this paragraph a re-read, then I can go to bed’. That had prompted you to pick up another textbook in pursuit of a specific page.
And now it was four o’clock?
Thomas stifled a yawn as he came over to you. “I don’t think sitting up, out of bed and reading about sociology is gonna help you fall asleep, baby.”
You sighed. “I know. But with finals so close, it’s like I don’t know how to turn the stress off. And studying helps that.”
“Oh, it helps?” He asked as he stood beside the couch, not sitting down with you. “So you’re saying that it helps you feel better, like less stressed and all that?”
“Something like that.” You replied hesitantly. In your mind, you compared your reason for turning to studying to the instinct of grabbing your elbow after painfully striking it against something solid. Did cradling the injury take the hurting away? No, but it felt better than doing nothing.
He gave you a sceptical look. “Now I’m not about to call you a liar. However, I do know what you look like when you’re not stressed. And what I’m looking at right now is not you stress-free.”
“Well, it’s not-...”
He silenced you by showing you the palm of his hand. “Luckily for you, another thing that I know is how to help you relieve all of that stress. I’m just gonna need you to come with me back to bed.”
You glanced down at the textbook. “I’ve got more than half of this page left to read.”
“I’m sorry, but how long have you been at this?” He asked.
“I don’t know, I guess about three hours.” You said, trying to play it off casually.
It didn’t work and he was making a sarcastic scoffing sound. “Alright, it is definitely time for you to take a study break. Come on, you’re coming to bed.”
“Can’t I just finish this page and meet you in there?” You asked.
“No way. You’ve had three hours to read millions of pages, that’s enough for now. There’s plenty of time for you to come back to this later, much, much later.” He said and he leaned down, securing his hands around your bicep. “Come on, don’t make me get tough with you.”
You chuckled, still remaining seated. “Oh-no, the wrath of puppy. Ooh, I’m so scared. What’s puppy gonna do? Are you gonna bark at me ‘til you get your way? Or maybe you’ll bite my ankles. It’s all really terrifying to imagine.”
He showed a good-natured smile in response to your teasing. “You can joke all you like, but you’re really curious, I can tell.” As he pulled on your arm a little you wondered when he had become an actual expert at reading your body language and other non-verbal cues. “If you’ll just come with me, you can find out exactly what I’m planning.”
You couldn’t help questioning your motives behind why you were resisting so much. You shut the book and moved it off your lap so you could get to your feet. “Okay, puppy gets his way.”
He grinned and let go of your arm so that he could hold your hand instead. “Hell yeah, let’s go.”
It was easy to get caught up in his energy. Maybe you had found a distraction strong enough to get your mind off of tests.
Once inside the bedroom, he turned to face you. He lifted one of his hands up to your face, caressing his fingers across your cheek as he leaned in closer. “I want you to use me.”
You kissed him, wrapping an arm around his waist. “I like how that sounds, but could you get a bit more specific?”
“Take all of your stresses and frustrations about finals out on me.” He said, rubbing his thumb against your bottom lip before moving in for more kisses. “Don’t worry about my pleasure, don’t even think about it, not for a second. You can just use me.”
You had started to smile, now holding both arms around him. “I can?”
“Uh-huh, I’m just your dumb little pup, use me like I deserve.” He said.
Your heart was fluttering as you started to kiss him again, your tongue moving forward to run across his lips. He had succeeded in redirecting your thoughts, it was an offer too titillating to refuse and once the door was opened, you had absolutely no interest in shutting it without first investigating. You pushed your tongue into his mouth, rubbing it against his as you happily gave over control to your libido.
Before too long, you were leading him over to the unmade bed. You pushed him onto the mattress with him keeping his eyes on you, keenly awaiting your guidance.
“Tell me again while you’re getting naked.” You said.
He put his hands to the bottom of his oversized shirt, swiftly taking it off. “Use me.” He removed his underwear, allowing you to see how his cock was already getting firm. “Use me.”
You stood in front of him as you took your turn to take off your clothes. You started to unbutton the flannelette pyjama shirt that you had been wearing. He boosted himself up to close some of the distance between the two of you and pressed some kisses to the exposed skin of your neck. Warmth spread through your gut in response and you couldn’t help smiling.
Once your arms were free of the top, you put your hands to his cheeks and used this to redirect him to look up at you. You placed your lips to his, your kisses lingering, and the study felt incredibly far away.
“Do you want me to sit on that pretty face?” You asked.
He twitched, his eagerness too great for him to hide. “Yes.”
You gave him another kiss, unable to keep yourself from indulging in those lips some more. “How about you lay down and get comfortable for me?”
He moved back, scooting away from the end of the bed. He reclined, flat on his back, with his head resting upon a pillow. You eyed the way his cock stood at attention as you pushed your underwear down.
You stepped out of the underwear and approached your side of the bed. You climbed on to the mattress and placed yourself on top of him. You supported yourself with a knee on either side of his head. He was looking up at you with wide eyes, taking in as much of this sight as was possible.
You further braced yourself by grabbing for the headboard. Once you felt confident that you would be able to maintain your balance, you started to lower yourself. You saw his eyes fix on your pussy as you got it closer to his face and you could only guess at what he was planning for you.
He lifted his head, making contact with your pussy with a tender kiss to your labia. His lips cradled one side, leaving behind an invisible print of saliva when he switched to the other. You shut your eyes, concentrating on the feeling of blood rushing into your cunt, bringing even more heat.
Your pussy lips were already parting for him, without a conscious effort from you. He inhaled your scent as he continued to give your pussy kisses, giving you time to sink into this moment. You were blissfully letting everything else go.
Once he had thoroughly warmed your labia majora with his lips, he then set his tongue upon them. Long strokes up each side allowed him to taste more of you, while you were grateful to feel more pressure in this area.
He didn’t just glide his tongue up-and-down, he was angling his head so that his licks could move inwards. His tongue discovered the skin that was getting wet by your own anticipation, lapping at the moisture here.
You felt a shiver rush through you when he brought the tip of his tongue to your labia minora. He used the tip of his tongue to slowly explore you here, following the natural contours of your pussy. He licked around your entrance, dedicating so much time to this that you thought he might be trying to commit the shape to memory, for some purpose that would be revealed later. You savoured the feeling of his concentration to this area, with it allowing you to shrink your consciousness down, your desires ready to run the show.
“Oh, cucciolo…” You said in a shattered breath when his tongue began to search inside of you finally.
His tongue extended into your pussy and you felt yourself tense up a little, yearning to explore that next level of pleasure. He wrapped a hand around your thigh, gripping you here as his tongue worked tirelessly at your inner-walls.
He was making you feel so good, tingles spreading through your body as you looked over your shoulder to check on him. It appeared that he was also feeling so good, with the tip of his dick still pointing directly at the ceiling. You made a mental note of this, letting it add to your surging arousal.
Your jaw fell slack, a surprised moan swelling up when he rapidly flitted his tongue up-and-down repeatedly. Your hand grabbed to the headboard tighter as you keenly wiggled your hips. This had the potential to start a fire in you.
Before you could start to adjust to this sensation, he was withdrawing his tongue altogether. This granted you the chance to catch your breath, gathering yourself so you could make it through more of his teasing. He didn’t move too far away, the heat from his face still present on your skin.
Your heart leapt when you felt his tongue again, this time it was flicking against the hood of your clit. At once you were thrilled by this.
You got the idea of further exploring this lust by sharing it, and you started to reach behind yourself. He was still lavishing your clit with attention as you extended your hand to his cock. You wrapped your fingers around his shaft and clumsily began to jerk, trying to find the best way to stroke him.
Before you could set into any kind of rhythm, he was taking his mouth off of you so he could speak. “Babe, what… you don’t have to do that.” He put a hand to your wrist, seemingly ready to physically stop you.
“I know that I don’t have to, but I wanna.” You said.
“Shh, you should stop.” He said and you could hear a slight waver in his voice as he probably fought against his own impulses. “It isn’t about me right now and that’s the way I want it.”
“But you’re hard.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
You looked down at his face, finding him wearing an earnest expression. “But I want you to enjoy this too.”
He caressed your thigh. “That’s sweet and I am enjoying myself, honestly. Please don’t under-estimate how much pleasure I get from giving you pleasure. Yeah, an orgasm would be really nice right now. But more than that, more than anything I just want to please my dom. Let me make it all about you and your pleasure, please?”
“Okay.” You said, giving his hair a pat because you were as enamoured with his submission now as you had been upon him first giving it to you. You couldn’t disagree with him at this moment.
“If it’s something that you really wanna explore, don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll still be hard later.” He said.
You laughed. “Yeah, there’s never a shortage of boners with my puppy.”
He let this discussion come to an end, his tongue returning to your clitoris. He swirled his tongue around the tight bundle of nerves until you were ditching your earlier plan altogether, taking your hand far from his dick. Your eyes fluttered shut as you went with his suggestion to not dedicate any thoughts to him - you made your desires your only concern.
As his tongue continued to work over your clit, you felt the tip of one of his fingers slowly pushing inside of you. He guided the digit between your walls, making you feel his treatment of his clit even more. You gave a little whimper as he moved in deeper, you were excited to start feeling full.
He soon had a second finger disappearing into you. The electricity rushing your system became too much for you to simply be still any longer and you fed the lust by grinding into his face. You tensed your thighs, delving deeper into the stimulations with every swing of your hips.
He worked his fingers in time with you, setting into the tempo that you were establishing. You were serving the need that burned inside of you, more-and-more of your body responding to him.
You started to get fixed on the feeling of your incoming orgasm, wanting to fall apart at the very core of your being. Amongst many other things, you were craving greater friction. You put your hand into his hair, grabbing a handful as you bucked your hips faster. His tongue rubbing at your clit was enticing endless pleasure into you, it had you obsessed.
“Fuck, cucciolo…” You moaned as you grinded harder into him.
He kept up with you, not giving you a single second to recover. His consistency was exactly what you needed, rewarding every movement as you made it.
You rutted against him a few more times, keeping your momentum as your legs felt like they were turning into jelly. But the wave of pleasure was overcoming you, making you weak as the orgasm started to dawn. You lost your pacing, just squirming your way through the mighty peak.
You shook and gasped for air on top of him as he retracted his fingers, giving you the chance to come to terms with the height that you had just reached. He leaned back from your cunt and your hand gripping his hair steadily released.
You were still feeling dazzling tingles as you moved off of him, all but collapsing onto the bed next to him. With no more tension in your body, you easily got comfortable.
He curled up at your side. “Can I have a kiss? I know that I’ve got a bad case of pussy breath right now, but can I still get one kiss?”
You opened your eyes to look at him, instantly seeing how keen he was - wide awake, his eagerness was untouched by fatigue. You wrapped an arm around his shoulders, bringing him in closer. “Yes, of course you get kisses now.” You peppered some quick kisses upon his lips. “You did so good.”
You placed your lips on his, kissing him properly as you continued to feel the effects of your afterglow. You twirled some of his hair around your finger as you deepened the kiss. You tasted your own excitement on his lips, a testament to how hard he had worked.
“Really?” He asked of you.
“What are you talking about, really? Yes, you did great and you know you did. Unless you somehow blacked out and missed that orgasm.” You said.
“No, I know that you came, that part was fuckin’ awesome.” He said. “But I feel like I’m still detecting some stress in you…”
“Is that so?” You asked, curious to see what he was leading to.
“Yeah.” He asserted. “And I would feel bad if I didn’t properly help you relieve that, ‘cause I said I would and I’m a pup of my word.”
“Well I’d hate to make a liar out of you.” You said.
He began kissing you again and this made it clear that he wasn’t just playing around with being flirty and cutesy, he hadn’t made his statements lightly. And now he was going to share his intentions.
You thought that this was the point when he stopped revolving everything around you, he must be ready to bring his cock back to your attention. You predicted him offering to fuck the stress out of you and you would say yes to it, happy to get off with him.
But he seemed to think that you needed more warming up, moving his hand down to your cunt. His fingers moved along your cunt, which was still buzzing with the sensitivities provoked by your climax.
You expected him to move away (he would need to leave your side to get a condom). But as he looked into your eyes, he only came closer, letting one of his fingers work your pussy open. You parted your legs further for him, feeling what had been your dwindling afterglow translating into aftershocks. Your heart rate increased as he discovered just how wet you still were.
You felt like you could melt just from his gaze, so you shut your eyes and initiated another kiss. You wanted to give him something that he could properly enjoy, something that could fill him with more of that vicarious pleasure he had spoken of so highly.
As you were kissing, his second finger disappeared into you. Your sensitive walls clenched to the touch, ready for more attention. He easily found a tempo to work you over at and you held him closer, feeling that pleasure swell up again. His tongue glided between your lips, welcomed into your mouth with a whine from you.
You chased one sensation after another, climbing back up to the peak. He kissed you through your shivers and moans, unrelenting in his goal of drawing another orgasm out of you.
You arched your back, pushing your body more determinedly into him when he curled his fingers up and into your sweet spot. You felt how easy it would be to unravel as he pumped his fingers, colliding with your soft wall repeatedly. The stimulations were making your toes curl, begging you to abandon the few scraps of composure that you had left.
It didn’t take much for this to reach the threshold of what you could take. Thanks to his consistent massage, you were soon feeling the orgasm explode into you. You broke the kiss as you soared into the climax.
You were still greedily gasping for air by the time his fingers were pulled free of your sensitive cunt. Thoroughly weakened by the second climax, you leaned into him for support. You buried your head into the warmth of his chest and let yourself partially drift away. If he asked whether or not you were still feeling stressed, you would have to admit that your mind was feeling so blank that you weren’t confident in how to spell the word stress.
You became aware of the hair on top of your head shifting, then you heard the noises of him kissing you here. At the same time you were feeling his fingers stroking up-and-down your back. You didn’t think it would take much for you to fall asleep, catching up on what you had missed out on.
“Are you feeling better, babe?” He asked.
You smiled as you lifted your head, looking up at him. “Calling how I’m feeling ‘better’ would be a hideous understatement.”
“My bad.” He said. You could see the shy smile beginning on his lips as he found a way to move in closer. “Is it okay if I-... can I-... you can tell me exactly what to do, what not to do, but can I get off now?”
“Oh yes, cucciolo.” You said, giving him a kiss. “You have definitely earned yourself an orgasm.”
“How do you want me to do it?” He asked.
You licked your lips as you pondered the possibilities. You were thinking about what would turn you on the most, what you could commit to memory to get worked up over when without him.
“You can just jerk it for me.” You said - it wasn’t a request.
“Okay.”
His cock was hard and awaited some attention. He didn’t take his eyes off of your face as he wrapped his fingers around the shaft, about halfway down. He stroked upwards, wet sounds accompanying the movement of his fingers over the head. Then he glided his hand all the way down, reaching to the base. You got an insight into how sensitive he was when you saw his body briefly overrun with shaking.
You curled some of his long hair behind his ear. “You just do it however you want, caro. You don’t have to worry about me telling you that you’re doing it too fast or not right. You don’t have to worry about anything, you can concentrate on making you feel good after you made me feel so fucking good.”
“Thank you.” He said.
“Aw, you’re welcome.” You said, his obedience adding to the pleasure that you got from viewing this.
Before you could lean in and start kissing him, he raised his unoccupied hand up to his mouth. His lips parted so that he could place two fingers inside. Your heartbeat increased when you realised these were the fingers that had been in your cunt. You saw his cheeks suck in as he thoroughly sought out the cum that still coated these digits.
He seemed to suck on them harder as he picked up the pace on his dick. You applied your trimmed fingernails to his scalp, gently raking across the skin. His eyes began to flutter shut, with him fighting against this to keep watching you.
He writhed forward, his chest rapidly rising-and-falling as the intensity increased for him. You were right there with him, still basking in your afterglow. Your eyes darted from his face to his dick and back again, not wanting to miss a thing. You studied his face and guessed how close he was. You watched his strokes and remembered riding him.
A powerful twitch temporarily gripped him and his wet fingers slipped out of his mouth. His mouth just hung open, if not for how much he was struggling to catch his breath, you would have given him so many kisses. But you resigned yourself to lightly scratching his head as you enjoyed this continuing erotic display.
Finally he lost the battle, his eyelids shutting as he surrendered more of his control to the desire. His hips thrusted in a half-tempo, not trying to match the persistence of his hand, but clearly needing to exorcise some of the feral energy coursing through him.
“Oh, oh…” He panted out.
You were admiring the pretty sheen of the light catching on the cum beading up on his tip. Then you looked up to appreciate all of the colour that had rushed into his gorgeous face. He looked so good, and at the same time, making sure you were still feeling close to those memories of your own climax.
His mouth somehow fell even further open as he began to buck with reckless abandon. You watched how fast his hand was working on his shaft, it was almost a blur in its impassioned stroking.
From deep in his throat, a whimper began, the only way to express the ecstasy he was tapping into. He keeled forward, almost bumping you as he curled himself up for the conclusion. You held your breath, on the edge of your metaphorical seat. His whimper had developed into a cry and your thighs were clenching in your anticipation.
“Fuck!” He half-shouted it.
Then, with one final snap from his hips, he hit the precipice. In front of you he came undone, everything coming to its grand finale.
He took his hand off of his dick and he was unsuccessfully trying to catch his breath as he slowly raised his head to look at you. His wide eyes met yours and you felt an unimportant flutter in your cunt. Your chest swelled with both pride and arousal.
As he was coming back into himself, you swooped in, covering his mouth in enthusiastic kisses. He reciprocated as he placed his hands on you, trying to ground himself.
“I love you.” He breathed.
“Oh, I love you too, caro.” You said, holding his hot face in your hands. “You have no idea how sexy that was.”
Something of a smug smile appeared on his face. “And how’s your stress-levels?”
In the rush of so many positive emotions, you started to laugh. “So low, so, so low that even Flo Rida would be proud.” You said, making him laugh too.
“See, I told you that I knew how to take care of your stress.” He said.
You smiled, not bothered by his bragging. You began using your fingers to create invisible patterns on his smooth chest. “Yeah, because you’re not just sexy, you’re also the smartest puppy.”
“No, you’re the smart one of the two of us.” He said and he picked up one of your hands, looking into your eyes as he kissed your palm. “I hope you know on some level that you have nothing to worry about. Truly, those finals should be worried because you’re gonna kill them, absolutely kill ‘em. You’re a genius.”
You felt a blush rising in your cheeks. “I don’t know about that.”
“Well I do.” He insisted. “This isn’t the first time you’ve taken finals and you’re gonna make it again this time. You’ve got this, you know you do.”
"Thank you, babe."
Maybe it was his reassuring words, or maybe it was the exhaustion taking over - either way, sleep came before the stress and panic had a chance to come back.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
🍑taglist: @gr8rainbowpunk - @idyllicbutterfly - @maneskindiva - @maneslut - @saschenkaaa - @slavicgoddess13 - @elvirabelle - @maneskintifoso - @thegeminisgirl - @ha-la-ansia - @butkutee - @ursulalurks - @itsmaneskinbitch - @icarodamiano - @crwnnjules - @paralianeyes - @fand0mskullfa1ry - @lizzylynch1 - @kammerstx - @myleftsock - @tellmesomething01 - @adoredamianos - @vittoriaisfuckingpathetic - @gay-for-victoria-de-angelis - @shinshans - @lonnybunnys [join here!]
#maneskin x reader#maneskin fanfiction#maneskin smut#maneskin fic#manesmut#thomas x you#thomas x reader#thomas raggi fic#thomas raggi x y/n
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Jason Grace x Son of Nike
CW: drunk reader, drinking contest, other than that its just really fluffy
You had found yourself in a drinking competition with your siblings. Someone had come up with the idea but you weren't sure who exactly, but now here you were trying to drink more than your siblings. All of you competing to be the last standing. There were some Apollo kids on standby, trying to prevent anyone from dying of alcohol poisoning and some just there to watch for amusement. And a Dionysus kid laughing at how some people just couldn't handle there alcohol.
You on the other hand, you focused on drinking. You didn't let anything else crowd your mind. That was until your boyfriend, Jason, came up behind your drunken state and wrapped his arms around your waist. He didn't tell you to stop, then again if he had you wouldn't have heard him. You just continued what you were doing except now you were slightly leaning into his form.
------
You had been the last one standing, well actually it was more so leaning. Almost all of you was leaning on Jason, you weren't really holding yourself up anymore. But hey, you won.
You were happy about it, but also super drunk. Like your movements and reactions were delayed, and walking on your own had become rather difficult.
Jason lead you over to somewhere you could sit and just lean on him. Your head rested on his shoulder, as you giggled softly. You didn't even know what was so funny, you just couldn't stop giggling. "What's so funny love?" You shook your head trying to say 'i don't know' but you just ended up laughing more.
Jason smiled at you, he really did love you. Even if you were stupid most of the time sometimes, and got into weird competitive games. He loved watching you compete though, even if sometimes he knew you'd end up inebriated. The way you were so passionate, even if you were just passionate about winning, it was still something he loved seeing. The look of concentration in your eyes, and the way you continued til the end without giving up. It was an admirable trait, well except for when it got you drunk, but still.
Jason gently kissed your head before realising you had fallen asleep. He gently picked you up, carrying you to his cabin. Knowing in the morning you'd be hungover beyond belief, and that the quietness of his cabin would be better for you.
He tucked you into his bed, before going to leave only to have you pull him towards you. "Cuddles?" he laughed before giving in, and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. You cuddled into him, mumbling out an 'i love you', he smiled at that saying it back and then kissing your head. You fell asleep, wrapped up in the arms of the boy you loved.
----
A/n: I haven't been home this weekend so I haven't been writing, I've been posting my drafts. I'll be back tomorrow tho! And I'm starting some works rn, and working on a request. :)
#jason grace x m!reader#jason grace x male reader#jason grace#jason grace x reader#male reader insert#fanfic#gay#pjo x male reader#pjo x m!reader#pjo#jason grace x m reader#pjo hoo toa#pjo x reader
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MONNNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!
CONGRATS ON 500 FOLLOWER!!!!!!! Fun fact I hit 500 and I stillllllllll havn't done what I promised lololololol
ANYWAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYY
Bc I knooooooow how we love our boi Santi, with all the Lal thots we share, can I get Santi with, of course, smut prompt, "we dont even have to take our clothes off" with fluff "As beautiful as always"
Love you bb!!!!!!
thank youuuuuu bb, this one was a bit difficult for me to come up with I won't lie, so a huge huge thank you to @melodygatesauthor for her incredible brain!
NSFW Grabby Santiago under the cut!
“C’mon baby,” Santi growled, running his hands up your thighs and pulling your skirt up with them. “We don’t even have to take our clothes off.”
His hands were digging into your ass as he buried his face into your neck, latching onto the skin there.
“Santi, the boys are right outside. They’re waiting for you to come back with the-”
Santiago cut you off, covering your mouth with his in a deep, passionate kiss that rendered you speechless, mind going blank. Picking you up, he placed you on the countertop and continued gathering your skirt up to your hips even as you glared at him to stop, the idea of his friends right outside making you anxious.
“Santi, they’re right there-”
He put a finger on your lips, “Well then, we better be quick, dontcha think?”
He started undoing his belt, and to be honest, you shouldn’t be surprised at his eagerness as moments before the two of you came inside, you were sitting on his lap and “accidentally” wiggling on his half-hard dick. You thought it would be fun to tease him, not realising how bad the need was building for Santi this time. You played this game with each other, flirtatious glances and lingering touches in front of others, building suspense until you got the other alone. Making him so frustrated that he became ravenous, downright feral was something you prided yourself in.
Before he could get any further, you hopped off the counter and started to walk away but he pulled the both of you into the adjacent laundry room, a little further away from the door leading out to his friends. Slamming your front over the washing machine, hands on your hips, he pushed your skirt up, making quick work of your underwear and pushing his hard cock into your dripping cunt.
“Ah, sweetheart, were you really going to let yourself sit on my thigh, soaking like this? Just to fuckin’ tease me?”
He leaned forward and grabbed your breast, tweaking your nipple til he heard you gasp. You were trying so hard to keep yourself from being loud, not wanting to alert the boys outside to what might be happening indoors. They were probably wondering what was taking you two so long, considering you went in together.
“This what you wanted, baby? Huh? You wanted me to fuck you at Frankie’s BBQ?” He asked in a low growl.
“Y-yes, Santi.” You held on to the vibrating washing machine for support as you tried not to cry out.
“Of course you did.” He reached the hand that wasn’t teasing your tit around your hip to slam into you harder. “Fuck, you’re so tight, so wet for me, baby.”
“Always, just for you,” you replied breathlessly.
He squeezed your hip in appreciation, “Yeah? God, you feel amazing.”
The sound of his skin slapping on yours was muffled by the Maytag cycling beneath you, but you could still hear the jingling of his belt buckle. Meaning, so could someone outside.
“Santi.” You slapped the hand holding your hip, “Santi, I think someone’s coming in!”
“Just one more…f-fuck.” Santi was coming, and so were you, just as you heard Benny opening the sliding door to the kitchen, yelling back that you two weren’t in the kitchen.
Muffling your own cry of release into your forearm, you prayed that Benny wouldn’t think that you two slipped into the laundry to have sex at Frankie’s birthday, knowing that if he found out he wouldn’t let it go for eternity.
Santiago pulled out and tucked himself in, then helped you adjust your own clothes to try and maintain some semblance of normalcy. You were scared to breathe, knowing that the others were wondering where you two disappeared to, worried that the smallest sound would call their attention to you like a pack of bloodhounds. Benny alone in the kitchen, mere metres away could probably sniff you two out, and you found yourself holding your breath until you heard him join the others outside again.
You felt Santi’s cum start to drip down your inner thigh, so you squeezed your legs together to try and be decent before going back out.
Grabbing his arm before he opened the door, you adjusted his hair, his curls a little messier than before. “How’s my face? Good? Any makeup running or anything?”
He let out a smug laugh before brushing a few flyaways back.
“Beautiful as always.”
#santiago garcia smut#santiago pope garcia smut#triple frontier fanfiction#triple frontier smut#inbox 💌#mona’s 500 celebration#romana tag#santiago garcia fanfiction#triple frontier fanfic
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Today is mother's day and I got my dad a present. Multiple actually.
For background, my mom doesn't live with us. She moved out in 2021 and she moved back in with her parents just a couple months ago. She was neglectful when she did live here and I can't remember a single promise she ever kept.
My dad took over her (tiny amount of) responsibilities when she left and I think it made me appreciate him more. My dad wasn't there a ton when I was a kid, but that was because he had a job that required a 45 minute commute, and it's not like he was gonna get anything better to support our 8-member family. My dad has always tried his best.
(Fun fact: The day I bought a #1 Dad Mug at a thrift shop that matched my mom's very unique #1 Mom Mug was the same day my mom's mug broke. Talk about symbolism.)
In October he took in a homeless trans kid that my sister's partner was friends with. Both that kid and my sisters partner are going to be in our family pictures this coming Thursday.
At Walmart, I saw a pillow that said "mama bear" on it. And immediately I was like, I have to get this for my dad. For context, my dad is a bigger man with a big beard and long hair. He's a bear. He's also greygender and pretty much only uses his agab terms because, well, he's 45 and it doesn't really matter to him.
After seeing that pillow, I decided I didn't want to just do that. I got him a cuticle remover (he was talking about how he enjoyed it), some new hair things and hair clips (again, long hair), some oatmeal cookies that I know he likes, dark chocolate peanutbutter doves, and some liquid death, which we'd recently had a laugh over the existence of before promptly realising its actually really good. Lastly, a peanuts card that I picked up last minute.
I had to fit everything into a box from work so he wouldn't see anything and I brought it home under the pretense that my coworker had given me some miscellaneous items while decluttering. I brought it into my room, set everything up and put it behind my door.
I went around and had everyone sign it, only barely managing to get my sister before she left for work (unfortunately her partner left earlier than we anticipated, so I couldn't get them to sign the card) and I put everything into this tall bag with a unicorn on it. It was one of the only bags that was big enough to fit everything, and I just thought it was so perfect.
I was also planning on giving him a painting I did in middle school of the northern lights— I have all of my paintings from middle school tucked away on my bookshelf— but I couldn't find it.
I had to go to the store with him when he picked up my sister, so I couldn't just wait for him to get home. I had to wait til he went out to the van, sprint upstairs, grab this bag that's easily 15 pounds because of the liquid death, rush back downstairs, hide it between our couches, rush out to the van, then rush back inside when we got home and set it up on a couch for him to open.
It went over really well, which was something i was worried about right at the end there, since he'd asked me and my sister if we told our mom happy mothers day. I hadn't, but my sister had. They were talking about it when they entered and I beckoned dad into the living room for his mother's day gift.
Overall, I spent about $60 on the gift. And I don't regret it. One of the biggest things of note with my mom was that whenever we celebrated mother's day, I would always try to put effort into it to make her happy. And it was never... really appreciated. I remember one year I got this sort of clear trophy-wine glass thingy and put some chocolate in it, and I had all of her kids sign the lid. She didn't take it when she left. It was sitting in our kitchen (with half of our deadnames on it, might I add) until a few months ago. If she'd left it in dad's room, I think it'd be less hurtful, but she left it on the microwave cart where we all saw it every day. Mocking us both with our deadnames and our failure of a gift.
Buying for my dad wasn't like that. I know even if I fucked up one of the items, he'd enjoy even the existence of it at all. I could've just bought the card or just the pillow and he would've been happy. But I didn't, almost because of that fact. My dad would be happy with less, so he deserved more.
#happy mothers day#my dad#long post sorry#ill probably post this on reddit once i get my laptop in order#but i wanted to post it on mothers day#so here it is
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