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spnjediavenger · 3 months ago

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Big Brother Duties (Charlie Cox x reader)(platonic)

Title: Big Brother Duties

Type: very long one-shot; charlie cox x reader (platonic), daredevil cast x reader (platonic)

Warnings: mean fans, self-doubt, feels, too many author’s notes, potentially ooc charlie cox? (Ngl don't know him as well as some other actors but i hope i did him well)

POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNINGS: mean fan comments that could maybe be considered bullying? Idk what triggers people when it comes to things like that so i just wanna be thorough in my warnings

Spoilers: MAJOR DDBA SPOILER!!!

Notes: i imagine reader being young adult age in this - like low 20s and they're filming S2 of DDBA

this idea sprouted from a dream i had where i was an actress in daredevil (not sure who i was playing but i was close with charlie cox and vincent d’onofrio and it was amazing). Also got help from an actual GQ article that was written from a recent interview with charlie cox. I can't believe he wasn't their first thought for matt murdock in born again. Like…that should be illegal.

Might have similar tones to ‘I See You’ if you've read it

As always, love and/or constructive/friendly criticism and requests are welcome and encouraged!

Disclaimers: i do not own daredevil, its characters, or plot

Word count: 3316

Summary: Charlie Cox takes his on screen duties as a big brother just as seriously off screen.

Matt had 3 men on him; he took hit after hit but barely felt their impact through his Daredevil armor. He finally had one knocked down and kept fighting with all his might. His sister, Emily, had her own hands tied - literally, a mere 20 feet away. A man gripped her arms behind her with a knife in that hand and held a gun to her head as he watched the fight with a smirk on his face.

Emily breathed heavy through her flared nostrils as she was forced to watch her brother fight these men.

“Come on!” the man behind her yelled. “You gonna let a man in pajamas beat you?!”

The hand holding his gun moved away from Emily’s forehead as he was yelling. She stomped on his foot so he bent forward and took the opportunity to throw her head back into his face, earning a shout. She spun away as his grip on her was released.

“You bitch,” he growled, glared daggers at her.

Emily backed away as he stalked after her until he struck her in the face with the butt of his gun.

Matt froze as he heard Emily’s gasp and a body fall to the ground.

“Cut! Alright, Y/n freeze where you are - we’re gonna do the next scene in just a second here,” the director said.

Y/n stayed in her spot, laying on her side on the ground. She opened her eyes and turned them up to look at Charlie. He threw a gang sign her way, making her chuckle and roll her eyes. He smiled and turned his attention back to the director.

After correcting a fight move from one of the stuntmen, he reiterated to Charlie what was going to come after. “Ok, Charlie, you’re gonna listen for her heartbeat, make sure she’s still alive, finish your fight, we’re gonna have a couple gunshots, then you go get her to safety so you can take the rest out.”

Charlie nodded. “Alright. How do you want me to get her out?”

“Do what feels natural.”

“Alright. Got it. Let’s do it.”

“Action!”

Matt tilted his head. Heavy panting, loud heartbeat. The man who was holding Emily. Slightly quieter heartbeat, steady. Emily.

Matt allowed some relief to fill him before he deflected a punch aimed for him and took the last adversary out. He ducked to miss a gunshot from the man that had Emily, who had approached Matt. Matt did a flip, kicking the man to the ground and knocking him out. Taking a deep breath, he ran over to Emily. A couple more gunshots rang out. He would have to get her out of the way before finishing things.

He put one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders before hoisting her up and throwing her over his shoulder.

Y/n shrieked as she was thrown over his shoulder, not expecting it.

“Who just screamed?” Charlie asked, American accent still present, spinning around as if looking for someone. “Emily’s unconscious!”

“Charlie!” Y/n yelled.

Charlie groaned and bowed his head in faux irritation before looking back towards her. “Y/n, why did you break character? The direction was to get you!” The British accent returned.

“Yeah! He told you to get me to safety! Not throw me over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes!”

People around set, Charlie included, laughed.

“Ok ok, guys. Reset to Matt running to get Emily. And Charlie - carry her bridal style,” the director said.

Charlie smirked but nodded. He set Y/n down on her feet, chuckling as she punched his arm. He ruffled her hair and walked back across the set. Y/n swatted at his hand but smiled and layed back down on the ground to wait for ‘action’ to be yelled as one of the makeup artists quickly added some red to her cheek from the gun ‘hitting’ her. She adored the whole cast and crew of Daredevil and always felt at home with them. And she and Charlie shared a special bond. Like siblings on screen and in real life. Her thoughts were interrupted at the call she was waiting for.

Taking a deep breath, he ran over to Emily. A couple more gunshots rang out. He would have to get her out of the way before finishing things.

He put one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders, gently lifting her up into his arms. He ran as fast as he could into a room off the large open one they were currently in. He set her down on the ground out of the line of fire and placed a hand on her cheek.

“Emily. Emily, please wake up, sweetheart,” he begged. He used his free hand to shake her shoulder and sighed when he heard her sharp intake of breath.

Emily squeezed her already shut eyes before opening them and looking up at Matt. “Matty?”

Matt sighed again and nodded. “You’re ok. We’re both ok. Let me finish this then we’ll get you home, ok?” Matt cut the rope holding her hands together before helping her sit up against a wall. Emily nodded. Matt pressed a kiss to her forehead before heading back out into the fight.

“And, cut!” the director called. “Ok, that’s a wrap for today! Great job everyone!”

Y//n grinned and jumped up from her spot. She jogged out of the room she was in only to be jump-scared by Charlie standing around the corner, making her scream.

“Dammit, Charlie!” she yelled, punching his arm again as he laughed at her expense.

“Hey, I had to take the opportunity!” he defended, hands raised.

Y/n scoffed and shook her head but couldn’t help the small smile that crossed her face. Charlie smiled and threw an arm around her shoulders.

“So what’s my little sister got going on tonight?” he said as they walked off set.

“Not much,” she shrugged. “Just gonna hang around the apartment.”

“Want to come over and say hi to the kids? They miss their aunt Y/n.”

The girl smiled. “Polite pass for tonight. We need to be here early tomorrow and I know if I go to your place I’ll be out too late.”

“Fair enough. You be safe on the way home, alright?”

“Of course,” Y/n smiled. Charlie planted a kiss on her head, they shared a quick hug, then went their separate ways.

Later that night, Y/n had eaten, taken a shower, then plopped on the couch in her living room to wind down before bed. She turned the tv onto something random and fixed her eyes on the screen until her phone buzzed and broke her attention. She furrowed her brow as she grabbed it. The screen lit up with a notification

@ y/fIGacct sent you a post

Y/n tapped it and unlocked her phone, going straight to Instagram. In the chat with her friend, a post was there, and under it, her friend said: Thought you might want to see what people are saying…

Furrowing her brow deeper, she tapped the post - one Marvel posted about the series premiere of Born Again, and went to the comments, her lips pulling into a frown as she read them.

Emily Murdock is such a waste character. They just forced her in to have another female lead.

We don’t need her. And @ Y/nL/n isnt even that good

Agreed. And she doesn't even look a little like matt. Couldn't they have found someone closer?

Yeah seriously. They expect us to believe she’s related to that greek g-d? I don't think so

Her entry in the OG series was stupid enough. Why’d they have to bring her back to DDBA?

Y/n’s shuttered breaths sawed in and out as she read comment after comment. She dialed her friend’s number and got her on the second ring.

“Hey, Y/n,” F/n said sadly.

“F/n, how long has this been going on? Have you seen other comments like this?”

“I don’t know. I know audiences were kinda split in season three but it’s really started taking off again since the double episode premiere of Born Again. I’m so sorry, Y/n. But you can’t listen to them, ok? You’re amazing!”

Y/n squeezed her eyes shut as tears leaked from them. She slowly shook her head as she listened to her friend. That’s easy for her to say, she thought.

“Y/n?”

“I have to go, F/n,” she said, not giving her the chance to say anything else before hanging up. Y/n dropped her phone and her hand flew to her mouth to keep herself from sobbing. She had no idea fans hated her so much. Coming in at the end of Daredevil season 2 was huge for her and had brought on an amazing opportunity with Born Again. Was she really that bad? Did the directors make a mistake bringing her on? Was she worthy of sharing the set with Charlie and the others? Did she belong with them?

The next day of filming, Y/n arrived and tried to stay out of sight as much as possible. She knew the others would be able to tell right away that she was off and she really didn’t feel like having a heart-to-heart right now.

When she was out of wardrobe and makeup, she snuck onto set where they ended the day before, sending a quick wave to the director.

“Has anyone seen Y/n?” Charlie’s voice echoed.

She slumped against the wall, ready to shoot, as she heard the director say how Y/n had just passed him by. Y/n heard Charlie’s footsteps echo closer and closer until he was standing in the doorway, Daredevil costume on and helmet in one hand.

“Y/n, love, what’s wrong? Where’s the usual flying hugs you give every morning?” he asked, his attempt at a lighthearted smile on his lips to mask his concern.

Y/n bit her lip to keep it from trembling and shrugged. “Just a little tired. A friend had me up last night. I’m just ready to go,” she said simply, hoping she came off apathetic.

Charlie went to speak but stopped when the director called for him. He looked at Y/n one more time and nodded. “Alright. If you’re sure.”

Y/n acted her best smile and nodded, then Charlie was on his way. When he was out of sight, Y/n sighed and rested her head against the wall, closing her eyes to fight off the sting at the back of her eyes. Don’t cry, don't cry, don't cry, she thought. This is literally the worst place. The scenes outside the room went on and soon enough, it was Y/n’s turn.

Emily’s head felt fuzzy as she sat up against the wall. She moved a hand from her abdomen to hold her head but noticed it was wet with blood. She looked down and saw blood seeping through her shirt and she let out a whimper.

@ Y/nL/n isn’t even that good.

Emily’s lip wobbled as she heard what were hopefully Matt’s footsteps jogging towards her direction.

“Ok, Em. We need to get out of- are you bleeding?” Matt cut himself off when he got the taste of copper in the air that wasn’t as strong before. He dropped to the ground next to her and removed one of his gloves, hovering his hand over her until he felt the heat and moisture from the wound on her side.

“He-He must’ve cut me when I fought to get away,” she said.

Y/n cursed herself for the stutter but figured it could play out as pain.

Matt bowed his head for a moment before hearing sirens approaching about a mile out. “Ok. Ok, you’re gonna be fine. We just need to get you out of here, ok? I just need you to stay awake for me. Can you do that, beautiful?”

They expect us to believe she’s related to that greek g-d? I dont think so.

Between the thoughts in her head and the feelings she was playing out for the screen, her own emotions elevated and she let out a sob, immediately throwing a hand up to cover her mouth.

“Y/n?” Charlie sobered up real quick, dropping everything Daredevil in a split second.

“Cut!”

“Y/n, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Charlie asked again, gently gripping her shoulders, trying to get her to look at him.

Y/n just shook her head and stood quickly, trying to run off but failing when Charlie grabbed her and wrapped her in his arms. Pathetic sobs escaped Y/n’s lips as she trembled in Charlie’s arms. He looked over his shoulder and saw the director signal the others to head out to give them a moment.

“You’re ok. You’re ok. Let it out. It’s just us, the others left,” Charlie said, his voice soft. The girl let out a mix between a cry and a sob, prompting Charlie to rub his hand over her back, quietly shushing her. When she began to quiet down a bit, he used one hand to pull his Daredevil mask off and drop it to the ground before moving it back to Y/n’s head. “C’mon, love. Do you wanna go to your trailer?”

Y/n nodded against his shoulder and let him wrap an arm around her shoulders and lead her to her trailer, avoiding any passing glances as they went.

Once they were safely inside, Y/n turned to wipe the tears off her face but Charlie grabbed her arm and spun her around. “None of that,” he said. “You don’t need to hide. Not from me. Please tell me what’s going on. I can’t help if I don’t know, yeah?”

Y/n let out a shuddery sigh and sat on the couch, Charlie sitting next to her.

“I was honest in a way when I said a friend had me up last night,” she said, not wanting him to be mad at her for keeping things from him. “But there was more to it.” Charlie kept his eyes on her but stayed silent, letting her speak as she was ready. She felt another wave of tears coming as she relented, “She…she sent me one of Marvel’s posts about Born Again and mentioned the comments…most of them were the fans being split on how the first episode started but…there were others about me…not good ones…Charlie…they hate me,” Y/n sobbed, finally looking into his eyes. “I-I knew there were some sparse comments when I first started in the show but not like this. They-They aren’t just talking about Emily; they’re talking about me, Charlie. About how I’m not that good and-…”

“And what?” Charlie probed gently.

“And how I don’t look like you. Someone said how they can’t be expected to believe I’m related to you on-screen because you look like a greek g-d.”

“Ok, first of all - I definitely do not look like a greek g-d. Unless my last name is Hemsworth I don’t think I could get remotely close to that,” Charlie said, earning a teary chuckle from Y/n. “And second of all - I think it’s time I teach you a very important lesson: you cannot listen to people like that, ok? I know it’s easier said than done but you have to tune them out. If you can’t avoid them altogether then tune them out. They’re just haters,” he added with an american accent, making Y/n laugh again. “And if that’s not enough, I’ll remind you every. Single. Day how amazing you are, alright?”

At this, Y/n looked down at her hands before looking up at Charlie through her lashes. “Am I though?” she said meekly. “What if the directors made a mistake with me? What if I’m not talented enough? If enough people hate me, who’s to say I deserve to be with the rest of you?”

“I’m gonna stop you there,” Charlie interjected. “You are good enough. You hear me? And do you wanna hear a secret to prove it? When the producers and directors were getting together for Born Again - I wasn’t their first thought for Matt.” Y/n’s eyes widened and her head shot up at this. ”That’s right,” he said with a somewhat sad smile. “So if you feel like you don’t belong, I almost wasn’t even here in the first place. Besides, you’re the most talented person I’ve ever met - especially so young. Vincent, Elden, and Deborah would all agree with me. In fact, they’ve all said it at some point. And you are beautiful. Anyone who says otherwise is just self-conscious about their own looks and they’re trying to make themselves feel better by picking on someone they think is superior to them.”

Y/n mustered a half smile. Charlie had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “Get your phone out. Pull up instagram,” he said, holding his hand out. Furrowing her brow, Y/n did as she was asked then handed her phone over. Charlie went through until he found the post she was talking about. He scrolled a bit, he and Y/n remaining silent as he did so.

“Here,” he finally said. “If our words aren’t enough - don’t stop on the negative comments. Keep scrolling until you find the replies that defend you.” When Y/n looked at him confused, he smiled a bit as he read the replies out loud. “Emily Murdock is not a waste character. I think she adds even more depth to Matt’s character and gives him family to hold onto. Plus big brother!matt is amazing. His sister brings out a side of him we otherwise would never get to see

“Not good? You're joking right? As if foggy’s death wasn’t painful enough, @ Y/nL/n’s/Emily’s reaction GUTTED me (I cried too, @ IGuser)

“Yeah seriously - she’s amazing

“You must have confidence issues to pick on someone so talented #TeamEmilyForever (Charlie laughed as he read out the hashtag)

“If anything, @ Y/nL/n is the g-ddess (no offense Charlie Cox) (non-taken, mate)

“I live for the playful scenes between Cox and L/n. So sweet; makes my heart swell (mine too, @ IGuser2)

“There are so many more good comments than bad, Y/n. Believe those. Because you are enough. Ok?” Charlie handed her phone back and squeezed her hand for good measure.

Y/n’s eyes teared up, but in happiness this time. She gave him a real smile and nodded. Charlie pulled her into a hug that she happily returned.

“Thank you, Charlie,” she whispered.

The man smiled and gave her an extra squeeze. “Anytime. I take my duties as big brother very seriously, you know,” he joked.

Y/n chuckled and pulled away, wiping the last of her tears. “Don’t I know it. You tease me just as much if not more often than you comfort me.”

“Don’t act like you’re not the same!” he defended, chuckling a bit.

“I’m not nearly as bad as you,” Y/n grinned, glad the difficult part was over. And it was just her hanging with Charlie. With her brother.

“Oh yeah? You wanna see how bad I can get?” Charlie challenged in his Matt Murdock voice.

“Oho gosh no!” she laughed, jumping from her seat on the couch, only to be pulled onto Charlie’s lap and locked in his arms.

The laughter that filled the trailer after was a sign to the rest of the cast and crew that everything was ok now. They were thankful but not as much as Y/n was. If there was one person who could always fix things when they were down, it was Charlie. Her brother on screen and off. He always took his big brother duties seriously. And he always would.

#fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #daredevil #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x sister!reader #matt murdock x sister!reader #charlie cox #charlie cox x reader #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil fanfic #charlie cox fanfic #charlie cox fanfiction

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kjmalfoy · 1 year ago

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Captain John Price • Headcannons

Theme- 18+ NSFW/ Dirty Dancing with Price ;3

Author’s Note- Man, I love Price so much.. I need him biblically.

My Masterlist <33

Price is a very composed man, he can control himself very well— almost too well. But, when it comes home from a mission and you’re wearing nothing but one of his shirts? He looses it, immediately.

Ex: Price walked into your apartment, smelling your homemade soup already. “Sweetheart?” He calls out, walking through the front door— seeing you bent over the sink, reaching for your wooden spoon. The heat flushed straight to his cock, his erection pressing prominently against his pants. John walked over to you, latching his rough hands around your waist— pressing his cock against your back. “Fuck, you look good in my shirt.” He whispered.

Size Kink. Price absolutely LOVES how he hovers over you; his big calloused hand able to wrap around your tits perfectly… Not to mention how he gets off on the sight of his cock bulging in your tummy.

Ex: You were sprawled out on the bed, the straps of your bra dangling off your bare shoulder. John kneeled in front of you, one hand cupping your jawline; the other kneading and holding your breast. You watched his nostrils flare in frustration, eagerly tugging down his boxers; letting his hard cock spring free. “Want me to fill you up, hm baby?” He cooed at you, quickly slipping his cock into your dripping pussy; grunting as he dick plunged into your stomach.

Price is very secretive about your sex life, he keeps those intimate moments between you and him; no body else. But, he can’t help but keep a naughty photo tucked in his wallet; something he can look at while he is away on missions.

Ex: John had you kneeled before him, his hand wrapped around your jawline; forcing you to look up at him, his warm cum dripping down your flushed cheeks. His breathing was still heavy, but you could hear him fumble with his desk. “You look absolutely divine, sweet girl.” He praised you, holding up an old film camera. “Smile for me, baby.”

Price absolutely LOVES eating your pussy, this man in the definition of being pussy drunk. He loves the way you unravel for him, the way your juices taste of his tongue, how your thighs tighten around his face. He loves nothing more than to tuck his face between your legs and lick on you for HOURS.

Ex: Sleeping soundly, you felt the blankets being pulled off you; your bare legs being greeted by the uncomfortable cold air. Your eyes fluttered open, heart racing at the sight in front of you. Price was laying on his stomach, his face just inches away from your sheer panties. “Good morning, Princess.” He mumbled, sliding your panties to the side; eyes flickering at the sight of your puffy and wet lips. Without hesitation, John tucks his face between your legs, groaning in satisfaction as his tongue swiped along your folds. “Taste so good, Sweetie.”

John isn’t a huuuuge fan of blowjobs, he prefers to feast on the heaven between your legs ;) BUT, he will never say no when you tuck yourself beneath his desk; staring up at him with innocent eyes as you take his cock in your pretty little mouth.

Ex: Looking up, Price puffs on his cigar; staring at you with an expression full of questions. “Need something, Princess?” He asked, resulting in a sweet giggle from you. Walking towards Price, you push his chair back and lowered yourself onto your knees. “Wanna make you feel good, Daddy.” You whined, hiding underneath his desk. Price tossed his head back, placing his cigar on the ashtray by his desk. “Fuckin hell, Lovely.” He groaned at the feeling of your nimble fingers touching his throbbing cock.

The embodiment of authority kink. Price hates holding his title over people, but you? He gets OFF on using his power against you, absolutely yearns to hear your velvety voice call him Sir or Captain— practically combust when those words leave your mouth.

Ex: Price grasped your hips, pulling you into his lap; his erection pressing warm friction against your needy cunt. You whined and pouted, playfully pressing your body against his lap; eager to feel that throbbing dick plunge inside of you. “Mm, I need it.. So bad.” You pleaded, barely able to get the words past your lips. John shook his head, giving you a light tap on the ass. “Say my name, lovey.” He nibbled on your ear lobe; his taunting chuckle joining afterwards. “Please, Captain. I need it sososo bad.”

An absolute KING when it comes to aftercare. Draws a nice warm bath for you, fills the water with bubbles and soaking salts to relax your tense muscles. Massages your back, and gently plays with your hair while you relax.

Ex: John left you laying comfortably on the bed as he excused himself to the bath; the sound of running water already calming your body down. Before you knew it, John was walking back into the bathroom— carefully lifting your bruised body into his arms. “Cmon, love. Let’s get you in the bath..” He mumbled, pressing a chaste kiss on the top of your head. Your cold body slipped into the warm water, a short whine coming off your lips as you looked up at Price— loving and admiration clear in your eyes. Gently cupping the water, John splashed it over your back; tracing his fingers along your spine. “Just relax, I’ll take care of you.”

Hates wasting money on condoms. Absolutely despises it 🙄. He rather fill you up with his cum, keeping his dick stuffed inside your throbbing walls— with the pure intentions of making you a mommy.

Ex: Price had you positioned on top of him, his hands wrapped around your waist; guiding you up and down on his cock— your breast bouncing with every thrust. “Shit, you feel good.” He grunted, his balls tightened as his release approached. “Mm, want me to fill you up? Pump your belly full of my cum, make you a mommy.” He teased between heavy groan, receiving an exaggerated whine from your lips; nodding frantically at his words.

His favorite position is definitely cowgirl. Price is such a tits > ass type of guy, absolutely loves watching your tits jiggle as you bounce on his cock— fucking LOVESSSS leaving marks and bruises all over your sensitive nipples 🤭.

Ex: His hands were latched on your hips, finger like bruises already burned into your soft skin. Price stared at you in awe, watching your round and full breast jiggle everytime you bounced on his cock. “So pretty, Princess. My pretty little girl.” He mumbled, latching his lips around your nipples; gently rolling the sensitive bud between his teeth. You whimpered and whined, feeling his lips suck and pull on your nipple, his teeth moving towards the soft skin of your tit; leaving deep bite marks in your flesh.

Quickies? Hates them; BUT will settle if he’s pent up. He rather have you begging for his mercy for hours on end, then pulling out it a quick orgasm in ten minutes. He loves watching you twitch and shudder at his touch, begging him for more with a fucked out facial expression… Feels like quickies don’t truly make up for the love he has for you.

Ex: Price had you pushed against his desk, one leg resting on the wooden tabletop; the other keeping you steady as he pounded into you. John was still wearing his uniform, his cock only poking out through the zip of his pants. “Fuck, Baby. Wait till I come home, I’m gonna treat this little pussy like it’s the last thing on earth.” He grunted out, quickly chasing his high before his men walked through the doors. His breathing was heavy and labored, fingers latched into the flesh of your— pulling it back into him with each thrust. “Cmon, Princess. Gotta cum for me, make it quick.” He guided.

♡ HIII! I hope you enjoyed this set of headcannons! Please, checkout my masterlist (at the beginning <3) if you’re interested in anymore of my world.

♡ My request are open, if anyone would like a specific character or theme! Please, feel free to request anything :)

♡Anyway! Comments, likes, and reblogs are deeply appreciated <33

#captain john price #cod price #cod mwii #captain price headcanons #captain price x you #modern warfare 2 #support your writers #john price headcanons #barry sloane #headcanon #fanfic

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royaler1999 · 7 months ago

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Help Me Catch My Breath- part 1

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

YN walked into her classroom, rushing to her seat where her two friends sat. She had barely made it to class on time, kicking herself for waking up late. Her parents didn’t have the time or energy to bring her to school, so she walked. Her big doe eyes glanced around the classroom, ensuring Harry Styles wasn’t there yet. She found him interesting, but he didn’t need to know that. So many omegas liked him, he didn’t need to know about a girl who hadn’t presented joining the mix.

She thought his fan club was giving too much attention to one person, but ultimately it was none of her business, right? YN looked to her left as she felt a poke from her friend Amalie Forrest.

“Girl, I’ve been calling your name forever. Where have you been?” YN felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment.

“Sorry, I’m all in my thoughts right now. What did you need?”

“Did you see Harry on your way in? I haven’t seen him come in yet.” YN shook her head. It was hard to miss Harry. He was quite tall, at least to her.

“Maybe he’s with his girlfriend. Probably doesn’t have an urgency to come to class with a girl like her.” YN’s other friend Cora Anderson said, rolling her eyes and filing her nails.

“Come on, we all know he likes YN. There’s just a pull to her or something. Maybe they’re meant to be mates!” Amalie was such a romantic person, but completely unrealistic. There’s no way Harry would ever be interested in her. Sometimes, she was grateful for that. His mannerisms and attitude could be so rude at times.

Harry chose to stroll into the classroom at that moment, his girlfriend Fallon Brody kissing him before running down the hall. He walked past YN and her friends without a glance, but YN barely saw his nostrils flare. Their teacher, Mrs. Ingall, entered the room, and YN was forced to pay attention to the lesson.

During the lesson, YN could hear Harry and his friends snickering and whispering. They could be distracting, but most of the class was used to their antics by now. Mrs. Ingall addressed them and then continued with her lesson. YN, Amalie, and Cora looked at each other before rolling their eyes. Of course, the more well-known wealthier students got away with everything.

Class couldn’t dismiss fast enough and as YN was packing her bag for her next class, she bumped into Harry. She dropped her notebook which flew open when it hit the ground. She sighed and bent down, Harry doing the same.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. Are you alright?” It took everything in YN not to stumble over her words when she responded to him.

“I’m fine. Thank you, Harry. I really appreciate it.” They finished picking up YN’s papers and Harry handed them to her.

“Catch you later, I guess?” Harry said, waving to her as he walked out the door. YN raised her hand and then felt stupid for doing so. Did that just happen? Did she dream of that whole encounter? YN looked at the clock and ran to her next period.

It was finally time for lunch and YN had so much to tell her friends. She quickly put her backpack in her locker, grabbed her lunch, and walked to the table where she and her friends always sat. Fallon bumped into her hard on the way and sent her and her lunch flying. Fallon gasped, dropping a piece of food on the ground.

“Are you alright?” Fallon kneeled to help YN off the ground.

“Yeah. I’m sorry, Fallon. I didn’t mean to bump into you. I’ve been so clumsy today.” YN brushed her pants off, catching the eyes of her friends.

“No biggie. I’m just glad you’re okay. Do you have a way to get extra food?” Fallon seemed nice, but YN was wary of trusting her. YN nodded to Fallon’s question and Fallon flounced off. YN turned around slowly, deciding to buy lunch instead since her homemade lunch now laid on the floor.

YN glanced at Fallon to see her looking back at her, giggling with her friends. YN’s eyebrows furrowed, but she ignored it for now. Cora and Amalie finally made it to lunch, confused at YN’s lack of a homemade meal.

“Girl, why are you eating school lunch? Don’t you know you’re like known for always making your lunch?” Cora exclaimed, not noticing Amalie staring over in the direction of Fallon and her group of friends.

“Do you know why Fallon constantly points over here and whispers to Harry?” Amalie piped up.

YN looked over and saw Harry’s expression darken as Fallon spoke. Fallon looked sad, for whatever reason. YN shrugged her shoulders.

“Fallon and I bumped into each other. That’s why I had to get a school lunch. I fell and spilled my lunch everywhere, but she helped me up. I hope that’s what she’s telling him.” YN’s heart filled with anxiety. She wasn’t sure what Fallon said to Harry but it didn’t look good.

“I don’t know, YN, Fallon looks like she’s up to no good,” Amalie observed. “I don’t know what she has against you. You’ve barely spoken to her.”

“She looks like she’s trying to start shit with you and Harry. He looks angry.” Cora agreed.

“I just know I didn’t do anything wrong. I haven’t been making moves on anyone. I apologized when we bumped into each other. I don’t know what else she wants from me.”

Classes continued as normal and then it was time for extracurricular activities. YN helped out with the baseball team after school, so if she had any encounter with Harry, it would be then. Harry was captain of the baseball team as the pitcher and one of Cora’s brothers Alex had recommended her for the managing position, and sometimes she even got to be the ball girl. YN walked to the locker room and encountered scathing glares from Fallon’s group of friends. She shook it off, ignorant of how the situation would escalate.

YN changed into her uniform as quickly as possible, hearing girls in the locker room whispering her name. One even shoulder-checked her into the locker hard. She grabbed her shoulder and massaged it. She wasn’t sure what everyone’s issue was. Harry was warming up in the bullpen as she got onto the field. She continued to the dugout to help prepare for practice, feeling eyes on her more than usual. Being the only girl on the field usually received a lot of attention, but this was a little excessive. She wondered if she was showing signs of presenting soon. She was one of the only students who hadn’t presented, and your scent got much stronger once you presented.

YN couldn’t let it distract her. She had work to do. Harry was usually a cordial person, but he was acting quite rude to her. He wouldn’t respond when she asked him questions, he wouldn’t say thank you when she handed him his water bottle, and he ignored her otherwise. It got so bad that Alex came over to her.

“YN, what did you do?” He whispered, glancing over at Harry who took a water break.

“I didn’t do anything. Fallon and I bumped into each other during lunch but I apologized to her. I bumped into Harry after the first period but that was resolved too. I don’t know what the issue is. Cora, Amalie, and I saw Fallon talking to her friends and Harry after we bumped into each other but I don’t know what was said. I think I will see what happens tomorrow and do some damage control from there because I’m not sure what to expect right now.” YN concluded. She couldn’t let some petty high school drama distract her. She had to focus on other things. She knew her body was preparing her to present soon, and she felt like she hadn’t felt this nervous.

Harry’s attitude was making practice difficult. His pitches weren’t reaching the catcher’s glove and the ones that got hit were hit far. YN chose to let him figure things out on his own. It wasn’t her job to figure out why he was suddenly angry with her. After what felt like a long practice, everyone was sent home. YN considered asking Harry what the problem was but figured everything would be revealed in time.

YN walked into the school the next morning, bombarded by laughter, glares, and people pushing her against the walls. She all but fought her way to her locker, where her friends were waiting for her.

“So, what’s the damage? What has she been saying?” YN asked, opening her locker to get her books for first period.

“It’s bad, YN. She’s saying you pushed her down in the cafeteria to make her look bad. She also said that while you and her were cleaning up your lunch you told her to ‘cherish the time she had left with Harry’ because he would be yours soon. She said you’re trying to make her into a villain so you can swoop in and steal her place.” Cora said, tapping her foot on the ground, eyes darting around to keep an eye on the student behavior around them.

“What? I didn’t say any of that! Why would she say that? Why is she targeting me?” YN closed her locker and leaned against it, waiting for an opening to walk to class.

“Do you want me to be completely honest with you?” Amalie said, trying to clear a path.

“Give it to me straight, Amalie.” YN was so grateful for her friends. She didn’t know where she would be without them. She failed to notice, however, the girl with a cup of coffee in her hand. She gasped as the girl threw the cup of hot coffee on her, causing her to drop her books and scream once she could get some air back in her lungs. The coffee was scalding and YN could feel the burns form on her skin.

She felt her friends take her and lead her to the bathroom. They took her shirt off and grabbed paper towels soaked with cold water.

“We have to go to the nurse, YN. You have burns.” Cora soothed as YN began to sob.

“I didn’t even do anything. Why is this happening to me?” YN whimpered, slowly putting her shirt back on.

“You haven’t noticed, but Harry was starting to pay attention to you because your scent is starting to peek through. I think you might be the one he’s supposed to be with.” Amalie said softly. They began to lead YN to the nurse’s office.

“No, I don’t want to go to the nurse. I need to go to class. I’ll deal with the burns during lunch or something. Please.” YN begged. She didn’t want to miss any of her classes. She couldn’t.

Amalie and Cora looked at each other sadly and relented to YN’s request. They hated that YN was in this situation. She didn’t need all this stress. Her life was hard enough and to now have a target on her back because the most popular girl in school had a vendetta? It was unacceptable.

The girls took YN to class and although they were late, Mrs. Ingall gave them grace. She had heard about the incident. YN refused to look at Harry. For all she knew he was a part of this. She knew Fallon had told him lies and he had believed her. Maybe he had spread this rumor.

Mrs. Ingall approached her while they were doing work. “Do you need to go to the nurse?” YN shook her head.

“I’ll go during lunch, Mrs. Ingall. Thank you for checking on me.” Mrs. Ingall nodded, but YN could see the concern in her eyes. She gave Mrs. Ingall a small smile stopping after her teacher walked away. She sat in pain, but she felt like she couldn’t let them get the best of her. They weren’t allowed to see her pain. They didn’t deserve it.

YN sat through her classes, stewing at Fallon’s audacity. Who knows how Harry felt about her? YN didn’t know anything about Harry’s feelings. At this point, she didn’t care. Any affection she had for the teen was bleeding out of her. She finally made it to the beginning of the lunch period and decided to avoid going to the cafeteria altogether. She walked through the hallway with her friends towards the nurse’s office when she felt someone grab her by the arm.

The arm brought her into an alcove and she could finally see who it was. She looked up at the arm's owner to see Harry’s face frowning. She rolled her eyes and tried to leave, but he wouldn’t let go.

“What do you want, Harry? I need to go to the nurse’s office.” His eyebrows furrowed before he shook off his confusion.

“You need to apologize to Fallon. That wasn’t necessary and you can’t honestly think you have a chance with me.”

“I didn’t say anything to your girlfriend, Harry. I haven’t done anything to her, and I didn’t say anything about you. We bumped into each other, apologized, and went on our merry way. I don’t want anything to do with you right now anyway. I’m pissed that you would let that happen, Harry. I thought you were all about treating people with respect, but now I see you’re just like all the other popular kids. Leave me alone.” YN wrenched her arm out of Harry’s grasp, aggravating a burn and wincing in pain. She caught up with her friends and left, leaving Harry standing shocked in the alcove.

As she left, unbeknownst to her, Harry’s eyes dilated as he caught a scent that floored him. It was unlike anything he’d ever smelled before. The little scent he could pick up from Fallon didn’t smell this sweet to him. He had yet to present, but this scent sent heat throughout his body. It confused him, so he decided he should head to the nurse’s office as well. He would just try to avoid YN while he was there as best as he could.

YN sat in the nurse’s office and drew the curtain. The nurse was ready to examine her burns when a wave of heat went through her body.

“Can you turn the fan on? I’m starting to get hot. Maybe it’s the pain from the burns?” She consulted the nurse. The nurse, Ms. Roberts, shook her head.

“You haven’t presented yet, right? You may be going to present soon. Have you had any contact with alphas yet?” YN shook her head.

“No, the only one I had contact with was Harry and he hasn’t presented yet.” Ms. Roberts hummed in consideration. She spread some burn cream on YN’s burns and allowed YN to put her shirt back on. As YN opened the curtain, Harry had been sitting in a chair, waiting for Ms. Roberts. They paused in their tracks as their eyes locked and YN felt the wave of heat again.

Ms. Roberts observed their behaviors as their eyes were locked and then she asked Harry, “Have you been feeling hot as well, Harry?” He nodded, eyes still locked on YN. Ms. Roberts then spoke to both of them.

“I believe neither of you should come to school tomorrow. It would be great if you went home now.”

Both Harry and YN shook their heads.

“I have to stay. I can’t afford to miss anything.” They said simultaneously, causing their gazes to narrow at one another. Their eyes continued to be locked. YN was glad Amalie and Cora had gone to class. She knew she wouldn’t have been able to live this moment down. Another wave of heat flashed through YN and her nostrils flared as a scent she had never smelt before flooded her nose. She watched Harry’s nostrils flare as well as he stood up. Mrs. Roberts moved to get in front of YN, for she was sure that both YN and Harry were presenting together. She was also positive that they were causing each other to present. Fated mates were exceptionally rare, but not impossible. She wasn’t positive that was the current situation, but she had to be careful that nothing happened between the two, especially while at school.

As she stood in front of YN, Harry began to growl. YN whimpered in response and Ms. Roberts was moved gently to the side. Although Harry had begun to tap into his instincts, he was still trying to be respectful. Harry moved to place his head in YN’s neck, and once he did he rumbled and YN chirped in response. Ms. Roberts had never seen this happen, but she couldn’t let it continue. They had to go home and present alone. They couldn’t do this so quickly. She grabbed her phone and sent a message to the principal. She could only hope that someone could get them apart before they became lucid and ruined their connection.

A couple of teachers came into the room. An alpha to help separate Harry from YN, and an omega to do the same to YN. Ms. Roberts couldn’t be sure those were their assignments, but she was sure her assumption was correct. As Harry was brought back, he began to growl once more and his aggression increased. YN began to whimper and cry and the student’s parents were called. At least Harry’s parents were. YN’s guardian, her grandmother was called. YN’s grandmother could only do so much in her old age, so YN would be discouraged by what the situation came to, but it was necessary. Ms. Roberts could only hope their bond would still be strong.

#harry styles x reader #omegaverse #alpha beta omega

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hautsreadsmarvel · 4 months ago

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“The Fantastic Four” (1961, issues 34-36) and the Torch-Thing torrid twosome (1961, 3 issues)

“A House Divided!”

Some charming Thing moments at the beginning, followed by the introduction of our villain.

He hires a bunch of people to make really contrived reasons for the Four to fight each other - like, at this point, they should be so used to mind control and deception and hypnosis and shapeshifters etc etc. and they have the tech to counter some of these things, it gets hard to believe they can’t just have a short convo and suss out that something’s wrong.

Oh, so he's the role model for most of today's billionaires. Got it.

Anyways Gideon’s son is a big fan of the F4, and when he overhears his daddy’s sordid plans he goes to warn them… unfortunately, Gideon’s intended finishing blow is a replica of DOOM’s time machine set up in the Baxter Building lobby…

…which gives us what might be the most unrealistic ending of all time (and yeah, this is a series with a nigh-omnipotent baby that almost incited Armageddon by reaching for the sun):

“Calamity on the Campus!”

Diablo is back. Glad to see my hunch was right and he could absolutely do alchemy inside his crypt. Also glad to see that his costume looks better here, mostly owing to the color change.

He strikes as the F4 are touring Reed and the Thing’s alma mater (which is just referred to as State U lol). There’s some brief shoehorned cameos of Prof X interviewing students and Peter looking to enroll after graduating from high school, but there’s also Super-Football, which is awesome.

Anyways the actual plot is that Diablo has improved his potions to no longer wear off (so he’s got like a zillion powers now, so long as he calls them “potions” and initiates the effect by throwing a bottle, basically). Diablo finds one of the professors, a superhuman-studying biologist, who has developed a statue of meteoric metal that would be “more powerful than anything that lives - including the Fantastic Four” if only it was animate. Diablo animates the “Dragon Man” and bids it defeat the F4.

The F4 barely survive it and Diablo’s onslaught, but Sue comes to a realization:

When they rematch with Diablo they distract him long enough for his control over the Dragon Man to slip, and it turns on Diablo, dragging him beneath the lake.

1) YES WE ESCAPED THE LOVE TRIANGLE EVERYBODY IS MAKING IT OUT OF THE SWAMP 2) hell yeah! happy for them

I liked this issue quite a bit, and was surprised by how much I enjoyed Diablo as the villain this time around. It leaves me wondering why Dragon Man is wearing pants, though - it’s a statue.

“The Frightful Four!”

Ok, that’s Sandman and Paste-Pot Pete. I’m also fairly sure the hair lady is “Medusa”, an inhuman, but aside from knowing her name and subspecies that’s all I’ve got. Did not recognize the helmet man as the Wizard, one of the Torch’s old super-inventor foes. Great to see villains color-coordinating, it puts them one step closer to parity with the heroes.

Speaking of the heroes. Here is all of them (and also Rick Jones (huegh)) at Reed and Sue’s engagement party. The Frightful Four politely wait until everyone has gone home to attack, and they’re ridiculously OP, which is a strange thing to say for a team that has the Wizard and Paste-Pot Pete in it. Between them, they have paste restraints, sand grappling, a sleep gas sprayer, hair grappling, and antigrav stickers, which is a ridiculous amount of crowd control. They subdue the Thing, Sue, and Reed in quick succession.

Johnny is elsewhere when Alicia fires the Thing’s flare gun, alerting him. He saves them from dying in space, although some credit should be given to Reed for his effort as well:

They fight the Frightful Four this time without the element of surprise, beating them. Sue is the MVP, forcing the ship the rest of the Frightfuls are taking to land with her forcefields and then subduing P3 and Medusa entirely on her own. However, while everyone is distracted the Wizard blows up his ship, knocking out the Fantastics and giving the Frightfuls the opportunity to escape.

This had no relevance to the plot but I also wanted to showcase it on account of it’s cool asf.

Torch-Thing Power Hour section

In MEH “Quicksilver and the Scarlet Witch”, the titular mutants decide to consult with popular non-mutant heroes to resolve whether they should stay with Magneto as a matter of honor or leave as a matter of morality. Unfortunately having just seen the X-Men’s publicly released photos of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants on the television, Johnny and the Thing are primed to fight them on sight. Neither group prevails in their battle, and the mutants come to believe they can only be safe with Magneto. Waste of a good premise, but the action was fine.

In BAD “Meet the Beatles!” Johnny and the Thing do not meet the Beatles. Like, they’re there in the story, very briefly, and the action is about our heroes rescuing the Beatles’ payroll from some thieves, but I don’t even recall if the Beatles have any speaking lines. Also, our two heroes are so busy sniping each other and trying to impress their girlfriends they cause mayhem at such irresponsible levels it feels out-of-character.

In MEH “The Bouncing Ball of Doom!” the Thinker engineers a heat-resistant, pressure-resistant, remote-controlled ball to defeat Johnny and the Thing (as opposed to the entire Fantastic Four for… some reason). The logic behind it being ball-shaped and made of space shuttle-grade materials is sound but the name of this issue is so goofy. Anyways they fight the ball at a dam and have to deal with the structural damage it causes, resulting in a lot of fun environmental hazards.

Also, how do the villains keep making phony invitations to events they don’t even control?

Thankfully this issue explicates the fallibility of the Thinker’s predictions - they’re just “99.99999 percent” accurate, and he regularly can’t predict people because he has to input facts based on what he knows about them. It goes some way to making his plots feel less like asspulls.

#hrm liveblog #the fantastic four #marvel comics #can't believe I'm saying this but I'm actually interested to see more Diablo. he has the potential to stay cool (slick just like ice)#Medusa is distinct from “May Dusa” who is a woman with snake hair and a petrifying gaze->#->also distinct from the alien with a petrifying gun introduced in one of the Avengers series who inspired the legend of Medusa->#->conclusion: this is secretly Into the Medusa-verse

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coldslaws-gear-station · 7 months ago

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So, I was in a good mood and I couldn't sleep, so I decided "Y'know, my AU has been giving me insane brain rot lately. I should really go do those concept designs!" My mood very quickly diminished by the 3 hour mark.

So just to preface, since these are concept designs they're all on the same body type and blank pose, as all three of them have different body types and sketching out all three of them would've actually made me go looney, also they're headless like all outfit design concepts should be

So let's start with the easiest design; N!

Her design is relatively the same as their canon outfit, just with his over shirt being transformed into a coat. The collar be more loosened to symbolise a more laid back kind of personality, and her turtle neck extending to their hands simply because I like it. Other than all that, she's the same, nothing to really note

Now we're going into a bit more of a complex design; Ghetsis

I'll admit I had some fun with this. A long dynamic coat to symbolise his incredibly dramatic personality, along with a faux corset to symbolise nobility in his iconic colouring. Flared pants simply because I like it and gloves for obvious reasons, the belts simply exist to be dramatic, they don't actually have a working purpose. Big pockets because he carries around too much stuff, and of course the plasma insignia.

His outfit is very covered, to show his modesty but also to hint as his body image issues that I won't elaborate on right now. However I did notice this left me without a section to colour with his skin tone, so I just slapped it above the turtle neck even though it basically covers his neck.

Now let's get to the problem child that had me dreading the end run of this; Alder

Do you remember that post you made about making designs more complex than a tshirt and pants gives you a hernia? I felt that, I felt that so far into my bones. If you look closely you can see the point where I just fucking gave up at getting it in the lines.

The fur is designed to give off more of a "look at me, obviously I'm important" sorta vibe. Also his front piece on his poncho on the canon design being switched to be on his back is to symbolised a "flipped" personality. Sun charm because I heavily associate him with the sun, wrappings around his hands and feet because he used to punch things too much but now he finds the pressure of the wrappings comforting, and the ones around his feet are because he literally never wears shoes. In his defence though he stayed in his room basically all of his life, you don't wear shoes in your room, at least I don't.

The moment I draw this bastard genuinely outside of concepts I may actually perish, this bastard gave me more of a headache than you could possibly imagine. But a complex design shows a complex character in a way, god I fucking hate drawing fur

- 💌

YEAAAHHH WOOOO THESE ARE GREAT . im a big fan of alders specifically i think you did great. also dw about the bodies i do the same, i have a little doll i use as a base when i need to design shit. agent mara and bau penny were made with the same base LMAO (still need to finish bau penny </3 but exact same problem, making outfits is torture. he's actually THE reason i made the hernia post his outfit has been a fuckging nightmare SIX HOURS OF WORK AND I STILL DONT HAVE A DESIGN I LIKE)

n is very cute though and i like the sorta glove thing going on. n with gloves or any kind of hand wrap really makes me 🥺😳 idk what it is.

ghetsis's coat is REALLY fucking cool ugh<3 love the warm tone on the base color. although ghetsis i will admit the eye pattern might make folks mistake you for a villain again /lh

and again alders is 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 literally straight fire i think it's so great. i love the emblem especially and the colors all come together fantastically it's just 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 WOOOOO YEAH. can't wait to draw these mfs when i feel human again

#long post #unova upside down #💌 anon

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pcwpolwrestling · 1 year ago

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3/3-PCW Extreme Political TV

Political Championship Wrestling Extreme Political TV Sunday March 4th, 2024 PCW Arena Washington, DC

Announcers: ‘The Voice of PCW’ Johnny Suave AGE: 50 / HT: 5’ 11” WT: 195 HOME: Philadelphia, PA HAIR: Brown / STYLE: Like Ronnie Dunn / FACE: Goatee DRESS: Brown suit without tie

Colleen Crowder of ‘That Big New York Newspaper that Pushes Narrative as News’ AGE: 38 / HT: 5’ 5” WT: 142 HOME: New York City, NY HAIR: Black / STYLE: Curly / FACE:Narrow face with rounded jaw, turned-up nose, faint freckles, and thin lips. Bulging blue eyes, thin eyebrows. DRESS: Black pants suit

Tuesday Night at Michigan Madness in Grand Ledge, Michigan: Trump vs. Haley The raucous energy of the PCW Extreme Political TV audience hits a fever pitch as the screen flickers to life, showing the grainy footage from Michigan Madness from Grand Ledge, Michigan. The unmistakable figure of Donald Trump, his hair a golden coif even in the low-res video, stands triumphant amidst the cacophony of jeers and cheers. With the precision of a practiced showman, he swings a kendo stick with a vindictive crack against the already faltering Nikki Haley. Her resilience wanes; she’s a cornered political animal in the ring, but even her grit has limits against Trump’s relentless assault.

“Holy Crap!” Johnny Suave’s voice pierces through the uproar as Trump meticulously sets up the table, positioning it like a sacrificial altar. He hoists Haley up—she’s struggling, but it’s no use. The slam through the wood is definitive, resounding through the arena like a gavel pronouncing judgment. “He hooks the legs… 1… 2… 3,” Suave announces, his voice tinged with disbelief at the ease of Trump’s victory.

“Welcome to tonight’s PCW Extreme Political TV from the PCW Arena in Washington, DC,” Suave greets the viewers at home, his tone shifting to the familiar excitement of prime-time wrestling. Beside him, Colleen Crowder sits with a scowl etched into her features, clearly not impressed with the former President’s win. “Colleen, I have to say, Trump’s dominance tonight was something else.”

“Something else indeed, Johnny,” Colleen retorts sharply and sarcastically, “but let’s talk about a real win. Joe Biden’s victory in Michigan on Tuesday.”

Michigan Madness in Grand Ledge, Michigan: Biden vs. whoever The video clip rolls, showcasing an empty ring where Biden’s opponent should have stood. In a moment of absurdity that only PCW can deliver, an uncommitted, red-shirted jobber right out of a Star Trek episode ambles out, a lamb to the slaughter… but getting some support from the Michigan fans. With the dramatic flare of a certain space-related movie franchise, Biden’s eyes ignite into lasers, zapping the unfortunate soul into oblivion. A quick pin, if you want to call it that, another decisive triumph.

Colleen can’t help but smirk. “That’s how you do it, Johnny. And come November, that Blue Wave is going to sweep right through.”

Opener: Suave nods, allowing the political jab to hang in the air for a moment before moving on. “This Tuesday, it’s Super Tuesday and we will tape next week’s PCW show from Tennessee. But now, ladies and gentlemen, tonight PCW will be crowning new tag team champions in a four-way elimination match that promises to be nothing short of chaotic.”

The camera pans across the roaring crowd as Suave runs down the lineup: The Deplorables, led by Red Solo Cup Ray McAvay and ‘The Prairie Populist’ William Daniels Bryan, wave their flags high, the very embodiment of the American Heartland Coalition. They stand opposite The Green World Order, ‘Extreme Vegan’ Brock Cole Lee and GreenPete, who brandish recycled signs and wear the determined scowls of the Progressive Alliance.

“Let’s not forget the Sports Entertainment Corporation,” Suave continues, the camera catching Gator Bates and The Alabama Kid cracking their knuckles menacingly, corporate sharks ready to bite. “And last but certainly not least, representing the American Patriots, Starz N. Stripes and ‘The One Man Hollywood A-List’ Stone Chism, looking to add some star-spangled flair to the PCW Tag Team titles!”

In true ECW fashion, the tension is palpable, the stakes sky-high. Each team embodies a facet of the American spirit, from heartland values to progressive ideals, corporate power plays to patriotic fervor. As Suave wraps up the introduction, the crowd’s anticipation becomes a tangible entity, the air thick with the promise of an extreme showdown that will leave the PCW universe forever changed.

Pulp Fiction Video Promos The screen flashes to a montage of slick skyscrapers, the pulse of Wall Street throbbing like the heart of America’s financial power. A ticker tape of stock prices scrolls at the bottom as ‘The Real Wolf of Main Street’ Kirk Walstreit and P.M.C. Banks strut into frame, the very picture of corporate excess with their tailored suits and smug grins.

“Listen up, peons!” Walstreit snarls, his voice dripping with condescension. “We are the bottom line, the portfolio pinnacle of PCW! And our future plans states we’re diversifying our assets with gold… tag team gold!”

Beside him, P.M.C. Banks chimes in, “Market trends say it’s time for a hostile takeover of the tag team division!”

Their manager, Gordon Guyko, steps forward, his face a mask of greed incarnate. “Remember, folks,” he advises with a slick smile, “Greed is good… greed is really, really good.”

***

Cutting away from the glitz of Wall Street, the scene transitions to a lavish Hollywood set. Spotlights dance over ‘Mr. Hollywood’ Kevin Daniels, flanked by The Skanky Rich Bimbos, Paris and Nicole, who pose with practiced pouts. The Pop Songstress Mega-Star Taylor Switt stands beside them, her agreement silent but evident in her steady nod.

Daniels preens before the camera, his teeth a blinding white as he boasts, “The PCW Title? It’s practically begging for some Hollywood flair. Star power… that’s what it needs. And that’s what I bring.”

***

“PCW Originals” Justin Sufferable and ‘No Frills’ Chris Escondido crash the glamorous scene, the camera jolting to the gritty locker room where they stand, sweat and determination etched on their faces.

“PCW blood runs through these veins!” Justin declares, punching his chest. “We’ve been here since day one. We’re not just part of PCW; we ARE PCW! And the title picture won’t be complete without us. I’m not just unbearable… I’m not just intolerable… I am… JUSTIN SUFFERABLE!”

***

The camera shifts again, this time to the scholarly confines of Berkeley, California. Professor McCarthy holds the ‘good book of politically correct things, thoughts, and views’ clutched against his chest like a sacred text. Around him, The Flock nod zealously—Codee Pink, Emily S. List, The Young Jerks, and The Legion of Anti-Fascists—each one a fervent disciple.

“Today’s lesson,” McCarthy intones, “is about adherence to the good book! Charlie Blackwell and all those who defy its teachings must be shouted down!”

***

From the hallowed halls of academia, the feed cuts to a dusty American road. There stands Main Street USA—Mike the Mechanic, Farmer John Deer, Ken Worth-The American Trucker, with ‘The American Girl’ Sarah Mae Smith by their side, looking like a snapshot of Americana itself.

“PCW’s got to understand,” Mike the Mechanic says, wiping grease from his hands, “what happens when gas prices soar and food costs more than it should. PCW needs champions who know that struggle!”

***

“Speaking of champions…” The camera pans to reveal Charlie Blackwell, the Texan holding the PCW Title with pride. He stares down the lens, intensity burning in his eyes.

“American Patriots, Progressive Alliance,” he drawls, “I ain’t hard to find. You want this?” He pats the belt. “Come and get it.”

The montage ends with a back-and-forth of determined faces, each faction poised for battle, each contender ready to lay claim to the PCW Tag Team titles. The screen fades to black, leaving the viewers on the edge of their seats, primed for the chaos to come.

Outside the PCW Arena The camera jostles through a sea of raucous fans outside the PCW Arena, the air thick with anticipation and the scent of spilled beer. The lens focuses on Woodward Bernstein, microphone in hand, as he navigates the growing tension at the entrance.

“Chaos reigns supreme here as ticketless masses clamor for entry,” Bernstein shouts over the din. He pans to Donald Trump, who’s throwing his hands up in exasperation at one door, his face a caricature of indignation as people push against the barriers. “Unbelievable! Total disaster,” Trump bellows, pointing accusingly at the crowd. “They’re trying to sneak in without buying a ticket!”

Swiveling sharply, the camera catches Joe Biden offering a contrasting scene by another door, fewer unticketed patrons mingle there but the same sense of urgency. “Folks,” Biden addresses the few gathered, “I’ve got a plan. A proposal that could end this malarkey if everyone’s on board.”

“Back to you, Colleen,” Bernstein tosses, the feed cutting away just as the blue seat faction erupts in cheers from inside the venue.

MAIN EVENT-PCW TAG TEAM TITLE MATCH: The Deplorables vs. The Green World Order vs. The Sports Entertainment Corporation vs. Starz N. Stripes/’The One Man Anti-Hollywood A-List’ Stone Chism Inside, the atmosphere is electric. The ring sits like a gladiatorial stage awaiting its warriors. Ring Announcer Kimber Marshall steps into the spotlight, her voice rising above the cacophony.

“Introducing first, fighting out of the American Heartland Coalition corner… The Deplorables!” Red Solo Cup Ray McAvay and ‘The Prairie Populist’ William Daniels Bryan stride out, their every step met with a mix of jeers and approval.

“Next, representing the Progressive Alliance… The Green World Order!” Extreme Vegan Brock Cole Lee and GreenPete emerge, eliciting a chorus of boos mingled with some scattered applause from the eco-friendly in attendance.

“Coming down from Corporate America, The Sports Entertainment Corporation!” Gator Bates and The Alabama Kid saunter to the ring, their arrogance as palpable as the disdain they inspire from the crowd.

“Finally, Starz N. Stripes and ‘The One Man Hollywood A-List’ Stone Chism, representing the American Patriots!” The duo bursts onto the scene to a hero’s welcome, revving the crowd into a frenzy as they make a beeline for the squared circle.

“Your referee for tonight’s bout, PCW senior referee Corrina Romanov!” As the Russian official steps forward, a ripple of unease spreads through the audience.

“Wait just a minute,” Colleen interjects, her tone laced with suspicion. “Corrina Romanov? After what happened last time Russia meddled in a PCW match? You have got to be kidding me!”

“Colleen, let’s not jump to conclusions,” chides Johnny Suave, ever the voice of reason even amidst the unruly pandemonium.

The raucous PCW arena quivers with anticipation as the bell tolls, its clangor heralding the dance of mayhem. Eight warriors, draped in the vivid tapestries of their allegiances, collide in a chaotic ballet within the squared circle. Muscles taut and eyes ablaze, they exchange blows that echo the thunderous sentiments of their respective factions.

“Business is about to pick up here!” thunders Johnny Suave, his voice cutting through the din like a siren’s call.

“Let’s hope it’s not at the expense of fair play,” chides Colleen Crowder, her skepticism aimed squarely at the Russian referee Corrina Romanov.

Amidst this tumultuous melee, bodies soar over the ropes, expelled from the tempest like political dissidents. The dust settles to reveal an imposing tableau: Starz N. Stripes locked in mortal combat with the zealous ‘Extreme Vegan’ Brock Cole Lee. Their struggle is a microcosm of ideological warfare, each strike a manifesto, every grapple a debate.

“Starz showing the power of patriotic might!” exclaims Suave, his voice tinged with excitement.

“Or maybe just brute force,” retorts Colleen, ever the contrarian.

Gator Bates, the embodiment of corporate ruthlessness, slithers back into the fray for the SEC, his presence tipping the scales. Ray McAvay, the Deplorable everyman, joins the skirmish, his fists writing checks of defiance that his body must cash.

“McAvay’s not going down without a fight!” Suave roars.

“Typical underdog rhetoric,” Colleen snipes, rolling her eyes.

But the narrative twists as Lee, Bates, and Starz suddenly cease their hostilities, turning their collective gaze upon McAvay. What follows is a brutal symphony—a three-on-one beatdown, the soundtrack to which is the groans of the Heartland hero. William Daniels Bryan, ‘The Prairie Populist,’ rushes to aid his partner but finds himself outflanked by The Alabama Kid and GreenPete, who dispatch him with ruthless efficiency.

“McAvay’s in trouble! Is this a conspiracy?” Suave’s voice cracks with concern.

“Or just the harsh reality of politics—and wrestling,” Colleen counters, a wry smile playing on her lips.

Bates goes for the cover. One… Two… Three. The Deplorables are vanquished, their populist dreams dashed upon the canvas.

“Down go The Deplorables!” Suave laments, the crowd echoing his sentiment with a mixture of cheers and boos.

ELIMINATED: The Deplorables (American Heartland Coalition)

“Survival of the fittest, Johnny,” Colleen quips, unfazed by the carnage.

Now only three teams remain, standing amidst the detritus of battle. Chairs clang against flesh as Brock Cole Lee, eco-warrior incarnate, swings wildly, felling opponents with the precision of a chainsaw through virgin forest. Starz catches The Alabama Kid in the clutches of the American Stars and Fujiwara Arm Bar, the submission hold as inescapable as the grasp of Uncle Sam’s tax collector.

“Will The Alabama Kid tap?” Suave gasps, on the edge of his seat.

“Only if he’s got any sense left,” Colleen muses, a smirk curling her lips.

But then, a chairshot rings out like a gavel of injustice—Lee connecting with Starz’s skull, derailing his momentum. Chism enters with a vengeance, delivering the Anti-Hollywood Blockbuster to Lee.

“Chism’s looking to steal the spotlight!” Suave declares, admiration evident in his tone.

“Typical,” Colleen scoffs, undeterred in her cynicism.

The chaos intensifies as Bates lands the Gator Chomp on Chism, and GreenPete fires off the Harpoon to Bates. Tables shatter, kendo sticks splinter, and steel chairs fold beneath the weight of ambition and desperation.

“An absolute free-for-all! This is PCW at its most extreme!” Suave yells, barely audible over the bedlam.

“Or its most absurd,” Colleen murmurs, her voice almost lost in the cacophony.

The PCW faithful roar their approval, baying for more as the ring became a maelstrom of mayhem, each man fighting not just for the gold but for their very ideology. Brock Cole Lee, the purveyor of plant-based punishment, launched himself into the air, crashing down onto Starz with The Juicer—a move as smooth and brutal as a well-crafted stump speech. The crowd was on its feet; this could be the end.

“Starz’s dream might just be juiced!” Suave hollered, his voice climbing octaves in suspense.

But Chism, ever the showman, dove into the fray, breaking the count just in time. His arrival was timely, keeping hope alive for the American Patriots.

“Chism with the save! This match continues!” Suave exclaimed, nearly breathless with excitement.

GreenPete, the eco-warrior, wasn’t about to let the opposition grow roots. He charged, spearing Chism. The Alabama Kid, all Southern pride and power…with a crap-ton of NIL to boot… then delivered The Crimson Tide to GreenPete. It looked like another one bites the dust, but Lee sprang into action, disrupting the pinfall.

“Chairshots! Chairshots!” Suave cried out as the competitors escalated their offensive to new heights of extremity, echoing the political battlefield outside the squared circle.

Then, amid the chaos, Starz seized an opportunity. The Alabama Kid found himself upended over the top rope, his exit as unceremonious as a concession speech. Starz then turned, his eyes locking on GreenPete who lunged with a Harpoon, only to find nothing but steel as Starz dodged, leaving GreenPete to collide with the unforgiving ring post.

“Oooh, Green “Oooh, GreenPete just made a campaign promise to that ringpost, and I don’t think it’s one he intended to keep!” Suave hollered, his voice dripping with the kind of glee reserved for political upsets and underdog victories.

With GreenPete reeling, Starz pounced like a candidate on a hot-button issue, dragging his dazed opponent back into the center of the ring. With the precision of a debate team champion, Starz applied the American Stars and Fujiwara Arm Bar.

“Starz is locking it in! He’s looking to make GreenPete tap out faster than a politician changes their stance!” Suave roared as Colleen Crowder shook her head, clearly not appreciating the analogy.

“Oh shut up, Johnny.”

On the apron, Brock Cole Lee, ever the activist, attempted to intervene. But Chism was there, yanking Lee down. The crowd erupted as GreenPete’s resistance finally crumbled, tapping out to the unrelenting pressure.

“GreenPete has tapped! The Green World Order is eliminated! We’re down to two teams!” Suave declared.

ELIMINATED: The Green World Order (Progressive Alliance)

But the bell had barely rung before Professor McCarthy, with his cadre of ideological warriors—the Flock—stormed the ring, incensed by the elimination. Their protest was as loud and disruptive as a filibuster on the Senate floor.

“Here comes the Flock, and they’re not happy about this at all!” Suave observed, as chaos enveloped the arena.

In response, McAvay, Bryan, and PCW Champion Charlie Blackwell of the American Heartland Coalition rushed down to confront the interlopers. The tension in the air crackled like live cables at a political rally gone awry. Corporate World, represented by Kirk Walstreit and P.M.C. Banks, sprinted down the ramp, eager to capitalize on the commotion.

“Corporate World joining the fray! It’s pandemonium in the PCW Arena!” Suave shouted, struggling to be heard over the din of the crowd.

The ring became a maelstrom of conflict, every faction fighting for supremacy, echoing the tumultuous nature of the political arena where only the shrewdest survive. Steel chairs swung like policies debated on the floor, each strike landing with the impact of a closing argument.

The PCW arena, a battleground of brawn and bravado, was on the precipice of descending into anarchy when Dawn McGill, the statuesque owner of PCW, emerged with a battalion of security guards, her heels clicking with authority on the concrete.

“IT’S DAWN McGILL!” Suave shouted.

“Why?” Colleen responded.

The crowd’s rowdy chants turned to cheers as she cut through the chaos like a decisive ballot measure. Her gaze was sharp, commanding respect and compliance as she pointed at each uninvited intruder, her gestures clear: it was time for order to be restored.

“Get ’em out of here!” she barked, her voice cutting through the noise like a campaign slogan piercing through political ads. One by one, the members of the Flock, Corporate World, and other non-competitors were escorted from the ring, their protests drowned out by the approval of the spectators. It took minutes that felt like an old school filibuster, but eventually, the ring was cleared, leaving only the true contenders for the PCW Tag Team Championship.

“Alright, folks, we’re back to sanctioned mayhem,” Johnny Suave announced, his voice tinged with a mixture of relief and excitement as Colleen Crowder scowled beside him, clearly unhappy with the interruption of the progressive narrative.

Back in the squared circle, the SEC and Starz N. Stripes along with Stone Chism re-engaged with a ferocity reminiscent of a hotly contested primary. Gator Bates launched off the ropes and connected with a Doomsday Device to Chism, who barely kicked out at two, keeping the American Patriots’ hopes alive.

“Chism avoids disaster! But can he capitalize?” Suave hollered as the fans roared, divided in their loyalties.

With the cunning of a seasoned political strategist, Chism sidestepped the Gator Chomp and countered with a cutter that left Bates stunned. They ascended the turnbuckle, trading elbows with the intensity of debate-night zingers. The Alabama Kid joined the fray, and together they executed a high-risk maneuver that nearly sealed the deal, but again, Chism survived by a hair’s breadth.

“Unbelievable! Chism is hanging on like a third-party candidate on election night!” Suave exclaimed.

Chism’s retaliation was swift and merciless—a low blow to Bates, the kind of dirty trick seen in negative ad campaigns. In a flash, he tagged in Starz, who unleashed a barrage of offense, slamming both Bates and The Alabama Kid into turnbuckles with the force of a landslide victory.

“Starz is cleaning house, and the crowd is loving it!” Colleen Crowder admitted begrudgingly.

Starz then planted Bates with a DDT before synching in the American Stars and Fujiwara Arm Bar, wrenching back with the determination of a determined incumbent. Chism, not to be outdone, delivered another low blow to The Alabama Kid, ensuring his partner could maintain the hold.

“Desperation moves by Chism! But hey, all’s fair in love, war, and politics… I mean wrestling!” Suave quipped as the crowd watched with rapt attention.

Bates had no choice but to tag out, his will sapped by Starz’s relentless grip. It was the moment of truth—Starz N. Stripes and Stone Chism secured the victory and became the new PCW Tag Team Champions. The crowd erupted into euphoria and dissent, a reflection of the polarized state of the nation itself.

“Starz N. Stripes and Stone Chism have done it! They’ve climbed to the top of the PCW mountain!” Suave declared, while Colleen Crowder’s expression soured further, her disappointment palpable.

“Sure, they won, but at what cost? And with what tactics?” she muttered, embodying the skepticism and critique often levied in political circles.

As the show wrapped up, the new champions hoisted their titles high, the PCW arena awash in the glow of their triumph. Suave signed off with characteristic flair, “This has been PCW Extreme Political TV… next week… Super Tuesday! Goodnight, everybody!”

Colleen Crowder, still salty about the outcome, could only offer a curt nod as the credits rolled, her mind already crafting tomorrow’s narrative.

RESULTS: -MAIN EVENT-PCW TAG TEAM TITLE MATCH: Starz N Stripes and ‘The One Man Anti-Hollywood A-List’ Stone Chism defeated The Deplorables, The Green World Order, and The Sports Entertainment Corporation

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artofdying1970 · 4 years ago

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what do you think each of the bugs would wear in the met gala

THIS IS SUCH A FUN ASK THANK YOU

this year's theme was boring asf so i'll just kinda go off the rails if you don't mind . they're british what do they know about american fashion

also i wasn't thinking about a specific time frame for this but if i had to I'd say this scenario (??) takes places somewhere from 1967 onwards and the early post break-up days. when they peaked basically

ANOTHER THING: these aren't really consise outfit ideas, i'm honestly just brainstorming and throwing things at the wall seeing what sticks lol

john

realistically he'd go for the all white enemble or something pretentious like that but in this alternative universe he'd go more whoreish because i want him to. he'd wear something like this in an ideal, albeit a tad cursed but still significantly pleasant world

i was also thinking of something using fur? which sounds weird i'm aware but consider it. don't know if he should go for the trim from the first pic or the full-on coat from the second but either way, would love to see it incorporated in some way

accessory wise i feel like he'd do something wacky and uncharacteristic with his glasses i mean he has to right ??? to take a page out of elton's book would work here methinks

paul

you see, at first i was thinking paul would be on either the worst-dressed or the best-dressed list, no in-between. but after giving it some thought i think he served some pretty sweet looks the met gala bitches would gobble up. i've noticed he liked playing with different textures and patterns with tons of layering, so maybe something like that?

i was also thinking of something like this if the gala ever did something along the lines of a royal theme?? maybe

or you could also go with something from the 70s from that time he wore jackets with nothing underneath (couldn't find photos for this but i know they exist trust me). one of the best decisions he's ever made career-wise imho

ringo

lots of color !! during this specific period he apparently really liked patterns (like the others) and was also a big fan of color-blocking or straight-up solid colored suits! the latter is the way to go imo. something like the suit from the get back tailer pictured below! maybe in a warmer color to really make his blue eyes pop :)

george

i saved this one for last because it was the one i was most excited about lol. I KNOW i just said i was going to ignore the theme but ??? it's impossible to talk about both george and american fashion without mentioning denim. picturing double denim, flared pants, platform shoes, and maybe some sort of necklace? very casual and kinda plain but you know he wouldn't have much cared for these sort of events + i'm sure he'd be able to pull it off </3

kinda what he did on the dick cavett show just a tad ""campier""

speaking of, either of these two could also work? i just love the combination of green and pink, it truly is elite and i think george looks so good in it !!

anyways . thanks for coming to my ted talk

#i am not fashionable at all i am just a sixteen year old who spends way too much time on pinterest #so feel free to tell me how much wrong i am #anon i will kiss you on the lips this was so much fun #ask #anon #sorry for the wait btw lol?

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houseof-harry · 5 years ago

Text

Love You Too | G.D.

Part 4 of Hate You Too!

A/N - Surprise!!!!! I know I haven’t been active at all, and I’m sorry for that but here’s the final part of hyt!!!!! She’s here, she’s ready (if you missed pt 3 click here), and I hope you enjoy! Lmk thoughts!

Word Count - 10k (jinkers)

Warnings - a good ole pull at the heart strings, that’s it!

You couldn’t remember the last time you were this nervous. Sweaty palms, butterflies in your stomach kind of nervous. You did your best to relax your face and smile in the mirror while you put the finishing touches of your makeup on, but it didn’t take long for the crease between your eyebrows to return with a matching pout.

“You gotta chill out, girl,” Kacey reminds you from her spot on your bed, where she sits watching you get ready.

“I know,” you sigh.

You lean back in your chair to examine your final look. If you were being honest, you actually looked really good. You kept your hair down, your face framed by the pieces closest to your hairline. Your makeup looked pretty as well, and you’re shocked you were able to steady your hand enough to not get your mascara on your eyelids, but you somehow pulled it off. You were even a fan of your outfit. The white flare jeans accentuated your body, the sheer pink long sleeve shirt on your top popping more from your glowing skin.

You stood and turned to Kacey, raising your brow and holding your hands out as if you were presenting yourself. “How do I look?”

She looks up from her phone, her mouth falling open as she finally sees the completed look.

“Y/N…”

You watch her eyes go from your face all the way down, slowly coming back up to meet your gaze again. You give her a sheepish smile.

“I’m sad I’m not the one going on a date with you.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you loosen up a bit. “Yeah, whatever.”

“No, I’m serious,” she defends herself, standing up to follow you out of your room and into the living room once you grab your shoes. “You literally look stunning. He’s gonna cum on sight.”

Your jaw drops as a breathy chuckle leaves your body. You turn to face her, walking backwards until you’re almost up against the front door. “He better not, I’m fucking hungry.”

Before Kacey can respond, your phone is buzzing. You both give each other a look, before you lift it to see a text from Grayson waiting for you.

here

You swallow thickly, turning your phone off and putting the shoes down beside your feet. “It’s go time.”

Kacey nods, kneeling down to help secure your heels on your feet. “You’re gonna have a great time. It’s Grayson Dolan bringing you to eat yummy ass food. There’s literally nothing that could go wrong, not with everything you’ve already been through together. You guys both deserve this, it’s gonna be a night to remember. This might even be classified as the best first date in history.” She stands when she finishes her pep talk, brushing her thighs off before clapping her hands with a wide smile. “Ready?”

“No,” you whine, getting your bag and double checking you have everything. “My heart won’t fucking calm down.”

She grabs your arms so that you’re forced to look at her. “You have everything you need. There’s nothing else you have to do right now besides walk out that door and enjoy a fabulous evening with your mans. Three deep breaths,” she prompts, and you follow her lead. She takes in three big deep breaths, and you let the air fill up your lungs as you watch her chest rise. You release each breath along with her, some of the tension finally leaving your body. It helps a bit, and you can feel the blood stop pumping through your ears so loudly.

You give her a small smile. “You’re right. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

She nods. “E and I are gonna have a beach day, I’ll text you when we head out for you guys to join if you want.”

You bite your lip, the thought of you and Grayson going to hang out with them stirring up even more nerves inside of you. Hell, this was the first time you guys would be out in public together. Alone. On an actual date, as two people who like each other. Doing normal couple things with other couples? Would he want that?

“Oh my god, shut your brain off for, like, three seconds and just fucking go down there before he thinks you’re not going at all.” She reaches around you, opening the door while giving you a gentle shove so that you’re out in the hallway.

You pout, slowly starting to walk away. “Am I gonna be okay?”

“You’re gonna be way more than okay,” she reassures before waving and stepping back into the apartment.

You sigh, realizing she’s right. You’d survive the night no matter what it brought. You always survived.

When you walked outside, your eyes immediately found the bright blue porsche. He was standing by the hood, arms crossed over his chest as his neck strained back to look up at the sky. You could see his adams apple bob when he swallowed.

His arms were bulging out of the tight black t shirt on his upper body, his silver chain hanging against his defined chest. A Louis Vuitton belt hugged his hips, holding the green pants to his lower half. They were cropped, allowing for you to see the tattoos that littered his ankle and lower calf, his air force ones kicking the pavement below his feet.

He snaps out of his daze when he hears you walking towards him, and when he finally lands his eyes on you it feels like his breath has been snatched away from him. He takes in every inch of you, trying to memorize everything he’s seeing just in case you disappear.

“Hey,” you practically whisper, lifting a hand to wave at him as you get a bit closer.

The sound of your voice pulls his gaze back to your face, and he finally can get a quick breath in as his huge smile spreads across his face. “Hey.”

He relaxes a bit in your presence, his arms first falling to his sides as you stand in front of him now, one hand gripping the handle of your bag while the other clenches and releases in a fist as you try and keep it together.

“Hey,” he says again, this time a bit louder and more present. He stands up straight, his hands now reaching out to hold your elbows. “Hey.”

You giggle, taking a step closer so that there’s only about an inch of space between your bodies. You tilt your head to look up at him, and his bright smile is quickly able to make your own lips turn up wider.

“That all you’ve gotta say to me?”

He just continues to smile at you, shaking his head a bit as he pulls you against his chest. You easily give in, wrapping your arms around his middle and letting his warmth envelope you despite the already relatively high temperature. You didn’t mind, though.

“Until I can form a fucking sentence to tell you how amazing you look, yeah.”

You giggle against his chest as your cheeks blush from the compliment. You go to release him, but he keeps you tight in his grasp without any room for you to move.

“Gray,” you mumble, grabbing his sides to try and get him to move away from you.

“Just a few more seconds.”

You sigh dramatically, but the butterflies go crazy in your stomach at the thought of him not wanting to let go so soon. It made you wonder if he thought about being close to you when you weren’t together as much as you did.

After a few more moments you feel his grip loosen on you, one of his hands coming to grab your own so he can guide you to the passenger side of the car.

“So are you gonna finally tell me where we’re going?”

He opens the door for you, guiding you around so you can start to get in. The smile on his face widens at your question.

“Nope.”

You roll your eyes, settling into the seat as you buckle. He closes the door and quickly makes his way to the driver’s side. He slides in rather smoothly for such a big guy getting into a small car.

“Are you at least going to tell me what type of food it is? Or if I’m underdressed?”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he starts the car. “It’s good food, and you’re dressed just fine. Perfectly, even. Stunning. Really fucking pretty if I’m being honest.”

“Oh god,” you huff, resting your chin in your hand while your elbow finds leverage on the center console as Grayson starts driving. You do your best to keep your smile at bay, but you can’t completely wipe it from your face.

“What?” He asks, looking over at you for a second before he puts his eyes back on the road.

“You’re gonna being cheesy as fuck tonight, aren’t you?”

A pout forms on his lips as he reaches his arm out to grab your knee. His fingers press into the material of your pants as he rubs his thumb side to side. You can’t help but look down at his movements, the warmth of his palm spreading through you like wildfire.

“Course I’m gonna be cheesy tonight. It’s the first time I get to take you out. Plus, no matter how much of an act you put on, I know you love it too.”

You take in a big breath as your cheeks flush again, your eyes still stuck on his fingers. You know he’s right, and you don’t feel like fighting it, either. You deserved a night together just to enjoy being with one another.

You only look up again when you hear Grayson groan in frustration. You’re met with a bunch of brake lights and soon you feel the car come to a complete stop in the middle of the highway.

“Fuck,” he mumbles as he grips your leg a bit harder.

“Let me check how bad it is,” you offer as you pick your phone up from your lap. You open up maps only to find a red line stretching for miles on the current stretch of highway you and Grayson were stuck on. “How far are we going on here?”

“I don’t know. Ten miles?”

You nod, biting your lip. The red line definitely stretches beyond the ten miles you need to go.

“How far does it say it’ll be?”

“I can’t be sure, but it looks like it’s pretty backed up for a while.”

“Like past ten miles?”

You nod, reaching over to show him your phone. He looks at the map and his face falls when he sees how bad it is.

“Fucking LA man. Shit.”

You turn your phone off, putting it back in your lap as you sigh. “It’s okay, we’ve still got, like forty minutes until our-”

Before you can finish your sentence, your back is being pressed into the leather seat as Grayson floors it off the exit ramp.

“Grayson!” You grip his wrist, his hand still holding on tight to you as he maneuvers off the highway.

“We’re taking back roads.”

“Do you even know where we are?”

“I’ve lived in LA since I was fucking 15, Y/N. I learned to drive here. I know where the fuck I am and where to go.”

You nod, not letting going of his wrist as you watch him continue to drive through the streets now. He was tense, you could tell. His shoulders were raised, his jaw tight and you swear could see the vein on the side of his neck pulse every few seconds.

You decide to turn the volume of his music up after you resituate in the seat, more comfortable with the speed he’s driving even if he’s still a bit reactive. You force your fingers in between your thigh and his palm so that you can hold his hand. He responds quickly, his hand gripping yours tightly. You can feel the clamminess of his palm against yours, and you give him a reassuring squeeze.

The corners of his lips turn up at the feeling, and you watch his body physically relax a bit. He takes a breath in, leaning back as he gets more comfortable again.

Watching the world pass by you while you and Grayson sit in your own little bubble, music playing as you enjoy each other’s presence without any worries is a feeling you could get used to. You feel so calm, like you couldn’t want or need to be anywhere else other than in his passenger seat as he drives along, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand whenever you guys were at a stop light. You somehow simultaneously also feel electricity from where you’re touching, that feeling of new romance taking over what seems like the whole car. You hope he felt it too, the butterflies, because this was a feeling you never wanted to give up.

That doesn’t stop the anxiety that slowly creeps up inside of you the longer Grayson drives around. You’ve been in the car for an hour and a half, and as far as you could tell there were no nice restaurants in sight; hell, there were no restaurants at all.

“Gray?”

He grunts, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Are we close?”

At this point you could hear your stomach growling, even over the music. You didn’t care if you sounded like a kid, you would even settle for water. You just needed something in your stomach.

He bites his lips, taking in your surroundings as he continues to coast along the road. After about a minute of watching him do that, you break.

“You have no fucking clue where we are right now.”

“Yes I do.”

“Then how much longer?”

He taps his fingers against the wheel as he reads the road sign, finally letting out a defeated sigh.

“Yeah I have no idea where we are.”

You clench your jaw in temporary frustration, reminding yourself that it’s the hunger that wants to be mad, not you. “Can you tell me what the restaurant’s called so I can look up directions?”

He reluctantly gives you the name, pulling over on the side of the road to wait for your instruction.

You suck in a breath when you see how far you are from the restaurant.

“Two hours.”

“We’re two fucking hours away?” You can hear the genuine frustration in his voice as he lets go of your hand to throw his arms up in anger before letting his face hide in his palms. He lets out a muffled, “shit,” while he shakes his head slowly.

Your hand feels cold without his to hold onto. Between that and watching him slowly devolve, you feel your heart sadden for the first time since he walked into the bathroom a few days ago. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, his face still in his hands.

“Hey.” You reach over to rub his back. “It’s okay. We can just go somewhere else.”

He groans as he finally lifts his head to look at you, his shoulders still slumped forwards. “No we can’t. It was supposed to be special, that restaurant is special. You deserve something special.”

Hearing the thought and effort he wanted to put into tonight for you made your heart swell. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips despite his somber face.

“What?” He asks.

You shake your head, bringing your hand to his cheek so you can stroke the soft skin there. “You’re just really sweet.” His frown turns more neutral at that, but you can still see the disappointed clouding his eyes. “Plus, anything we do together is special. You could take me to a fucking dump and it would be special.”

This gets a small chuckle out of him, which prompts you to relax a bit. You were glad you could still get some type of positive reaction from him.

“Thought you didn’t want cheesy tonight.”

“Shut up,” you giggle, pushing his shoulder lightly.

His next movements are quick, and you have little time to react. He leans over and grabs your chin, pulling you closer to his face as his lips meet yours. The kiss is slow, and to your benefit, so that you can move your lips harmoniously with his as the hum of the engine and the melody of the music fade farther away as you get more and more into everything the kiss is making you feel.

All too soon, though, he’s pulling away, his face still staying close enough to yours that you feel his warm breath on your face as you slowly open your eyes. The frustration is gone from his gaze, replaced with something you’d never seen before. You weren’t sure what it was, but by the way he’s smiling you assume it’s a good thing.

“What was that for?” You whisper. You’re scared if you talk too loud that you’ll ruin the little universe Grayson has seemed to put you in.

He shakes his head bashfully as his thumb rubs against your jawline. “Just wanted a kiss.”

Your smile grows impossibly wider at the idea of you being able to kiss Grayson whenever you wanted. You didn’t just have to dream about it late at night, or act like you hated it every time. There didn’t have to be a reason why. And he’d want to do the same to you.

“Look up restaurants nearby.”

You hadn’t even noticed he had situated himself back into the driver's seat as you had zoned out. He still had a slight smirk on his lips while he got the car back on the road.

You lean back against your own seat, taking your phone out and searching on google for literally anything close to you guys that served food.

“There’s a place called BJ’s five minutes away. Looks a little sketch in terms of vegan food, though.”

He laughs, looking over at you. “Give me directions.”

He manages to pull up in front of the small building labeled BJ’s Diner not long after that. The ‘r’ on the sign is out, the outside looking a little run down. It looks like it was in its prime 50 years ago.

“Ready to eat at BJ’s?” He asks.

You laugh, unbuckling your seatbelt. “Guess so.”

As you both get out of the car, you let your short moment of silence be a little prayer that the night isn’t totally ruined.

And when you see Grayson waiting for you, hand held out to take yours in order to walk inside together, you think your prayer has been heard.

Your hope for the night drops the second you walk through the door, though. It smells like old wood and grease, the yellowed tiles are chipped at various points on the floor, the musicians pictured on the wall all died before the 80’s, and there’s a beaten jukebox in the corner. A part of you feels like you literally walked through a time machine, but the other can’t stop seeing how much everything has aged. The servers all seemed to be older as well, all having gray hair and wrinkles adorning their skin.

“You guys can pick any spot you want,” one of the cute old ladies interrupts your spiraling fears as Grayson turns to look at you with a raised brow.

You start walking to the booth in the corner farthest from the three other people sitting around the place in hopes of some type of privacy. They were all there alone, sitting at their respect tables without a word to anyone else. The only sounds ringing through the place are the music playing and the sounds of food being cooked in the back behind the little window you could see through behind the bar.

You’re not sure you’ve ever actually been to a diner that’s been so old, just ones that try and recreate the vintage vibes. But as the laminate of the booth cracks beneath you while you slide in, you conclude these booths have been sat in for longer than you’d been alive.

“I feel a bit overdressed,” you mumble as you pick up a menu.

Grayson chuckles as he takes a look at his own menu. “That’s okay. You said we were gonna have a special night no matter what. And this is, uh...” he looks up and around inspecting your surroundings again.

“Let’s just stick with special. Sounds nicer.”

He nods in agreement as he begins to search the menu. As you look over your own, you realize there’s much he can eat here. You’re not surprised with how old the place seems, but that doesn’t stop the slight frown that makes its way onto your lips.

“What?”

You hum, barely acknowledging his question as you continue to search for literally anything vegan on the menu besides french fries.

His fingers are soon blocking your view of the worn words on the menu as he pushes it down to see your face. Only then do you make eye contact with him. His brows are furrowed in confusion, which brings your own look of misunderstanding to your own face.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve got a pout on. There’s no pouting tonight. So what’s wrong?” His tone is light, almost as if he’s joking but you know he’s just trying to feel you out, understand what’s going on inside your head.

“There’s nothing vegan here,” you sigh as you pick the menu back up. “You can’t eat french fries for dinner.”

A warm smile spreads across Grayson’s face at your explanation as he watches you continue to look for something else he can have.

“Hey,” he interrupts you again, grabbing your menu and placing it alongside his at the end of the table. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll eat french fries for dinner if it means I still get to be out with you. It’ll make things more special.”

You giggle, nodding your head. “Special is definitely the word of the night.”

And that rang true the rest of your time in BJ’s. Between the busboy spilling water all over your pants making them semi see through, Grayson’s fries being cold (along with your burger), and being overcharged, it seemed like everything was going wrong.

But that didn’t stop you guys from laughing together the whole night. It almost made it impossible to believe you two were constantly at each other's throats for so long, never realizing that maybe your animosity had secretly come from the fear of falling for each other. You were grateful that fear was out in the open now, though, so that you could explore it together. Because now that you’ve had your taste of Grayson Dolan, you weren’t sure if you could ever give it up.

You guys made up for the shitshow of a dinner with your ride home. You blasted music, singing at the top of your lungs, not caring how bad you sounded. Your cheeks hurt from smiling all night, and you couldn’t help watching Grayson sing while he drove. He looked like he was glowing, you’d never seen him seem so genuinely happy and at peace.

When he finally pulled into a guest spot at your apartment he turned the music off while turning to look at you. You were both out of breath from the last song, and you could see a bit of sweat on his forehead from his intense singing.

“I never sing in front of people,” he admits.

“Me either.” You rest your elbow on the center console much like before, putting your chin in your hand as you smile at him.

“Think we could be a famous duet if we tried.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I think people would pay to make us stop singing, actually.”

He laughs with you, letting go of the steering wheel as he turns to face you. You meet his eyes and find yourself trapped there in his gaze, both of you unable to look away from the other. There was just something so captivating about the way he would give you all his attention, his pupils almost completely blown out whenever they met yours. You could zone out looking into them for days, you’re sure.

“Gonna let me kiss you goodnight?” His soft voice carries through the car and pulls you from your thoughts.

You shrug. “I guess I should.”

He chuckles while leaning closer to you, his lips softly meeting yours. It’s sweet, much less intense than any other kiss you’ve shared and you think you can get used to the way his lips smoothly move against yours.

But before you let yourself fully indulge, his words actually hit you.

You pull back from him suddenly, and when you open your eyes you can see he’s a second behind you. When his finally open, he’s giving you a questioning look.

“You good?”

“Are you leaving?”

His brows only pull closer together at your question. “What?”

“You said a goodnight kiss. Are you not gonna come up?” You can feel the anxiety pooling in your stomach as you wonder if he doesn’t want to spend the night after being with you for so long.

“You never really struck me as someone who wants to fuck on a first date,” he chuckles, but soon stops when he notices you’re not so amused.

“Not with people I haven’t already fucked, no. I mean if you don’t want to that’s fine, I’ll just-” You grab your bag, opening the car door.

“Wait!”

You ignore his plea, stepping out of the car and shutting the door before you had a chance to look back at him.

“Y/N,” he calls out as he climbs out of his seat to follow you along the sidewalk. “Hey!”

His hand on your arm stops you, and you decide that you don’t have it in you to fight him. So you turn around while doing your best to keep your face neutral.

“I didn’t wanna push any boundaries you might have. I’m not gonna pressure you into having sex after a date just because we’ve fucked before. I’ve never felt anything for anyone like I do for you, and I don’t know what the rules are. I don’t wanna mess this up, even just tonight I’ve had such a good time and I-”

“So you weren’t sick of spending time with me?”

He looks almost offended by your question as soon as it leaves your lips. “What?”

You shrug. “I don’t know, we’ve never really spent that time with each other without fighting or fucking. I guess I thought you wanted a break or something.”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “No. I spent almost six months acting like I couldn’t be in the same room as you and I fucking beat myself up for that shit. I just assumed you wouldn’t wanna do that shit so soon.”

“And I just assumed you’d get annoyed with me after a while.”

“So then let’s stop assuming and get the fuck upstairs.”

You laugh at his sudden eagerness, relief starting to wash over you. You turn to start walking towards the entrance as you talk over your shoulder. “Gonna show me how special I really am?”

You hear the signature lock of the porsche followed by his loud footsteps as he does his best to catch up.

“Where’s Kacey?”

“Told her to spend the night at yours with Ethan.”

“Fuck.”

You giggle as you turn to walk backwards after opening the door, your hips swaying as you watch him take the entirety of you in.

“Special doesn’t even begin to do justice to what I’m about to do to you.”

You laugh as he charges towards you, squealing when he picks you up off the floor.

“Grayson! I can walk myself upstairs.” Your grip is tight on his shoulders as he keeps one hand under your thighs while the other presses the elevator button repeatedly.

“See how long that lasts.”

Your giggles fade as the implications of his words settle at the pit of your stomach. That’s when you knew he was really gonna make you feel special.

***

A month.

You and Grayson made it a month running around together, only seeing each other (and poor Ethan and Kacey). You were having the time of your life, honestly. You and Grayson got along really well now that you had your guards down more. You tried your best to appreciate that without the overwhelming guilt that took over when you reminded yourself of how you treated him before.

But things were getting complicated. When you hung out with your friends, they asked why you were suddenly so busy. You were able to pass it off as work at first, but after the first week they wondered what project could be so time consuming. It was getting much harder to lie.

You and Grayson also avoided going to any of the same things. You knew you wouldn’t be able to hold up the facade like before if you were in a room with him, and it would totally blow your cover.

That was getting difficult too, though. At this point you shared the same close friends, and you were both sad you were missing out on things.

So Grayson finally prompted you to come to something they were hosting at their house with your friends. It was a casual hang out with your typical dinner and night swim. Nothing intense, super normal.

That didn’t stop the nerves running through you as you walked into their backyard with Kacey, though.

“Everything’s gonna be fine,” she mumbles, giving your arm a squeeze before leading you to your group of friends. “Y/n!” Jas exclaims when she finally spots you. Kacey had quickly run off to Ethan, leaving you standing alone in the middle of the deck.

You give her a tight smile as you put your bag down, walking over to the edge of the pool she was hanging on to.

“Hey.”

She pouts, watching you get comfortable as you sit down beside her hands. “You okay?”

You nod, letting out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding onto. “Yeah. Just work stress. You get it.”

She rolls her eyes, resting her head on her folded arms. “Sure. If work means boy, then I 100% get it.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Why does everything have to be about boys all the time? Why can’t it be possible for an independent ass woman to have issues unrelated to men?”

“Oh it totally is,” she admits. “But I know your work stress. This is not work stress. You haven’t looked so troubled since you broke up with Ben.”

The bringing up of your last ex makes your face immediately scrunch up, like you have a bad taste in your mouth.

“Fuck that kid.”

“Now listen, you don’t have to tell me who’s causing you shit and taking up all your time. But you’re gonna have to break at some point if you keep him around. I mean, everyone’s getting boo’d up. Even Mila’s been shooting her shot,” she chuckles, her eyes going from your face to behind you.

You turn to see Mila standing next to a shirtless Grayson. He looks like he’s explaining the workout equipment to her. He’s clearly super into the conversation, and it’s even more clear Mila is into the way his face looks.

You’re not sure how you feel. You do your best to quell the immediate anger bubbling up inside of you because Mila has no idea you guys are together. But shouldn’t Gray be doing a better job at trying to stop her heart eyes?

“How long has that been a thing?” You ask as you keep your eyes on them.

“Only a few weeks. She was convinced Grayson was into you for literally, like,” she lifts her head to count on her fingers while she thinks. “Like three months or something. But the past few weeks you and him have just been radio silent so she’s taking her chance. Was that even a thing after Malibu or is he more of a hit it and quit it kinda guy?”

“I have to pee,” you mutter under your breath as you stand back up. You don’t even look back at Jas when she calls for you, keeping your eyes on the door. At this point Mila’s got her hand on Grayson’s bicep as he continues to ramble about who knows what, totally oblivious to her true intentions. Or, he’s into it and that’s why he hasn’t told her to stop.

Either way, you needed to get out. You knew being here would be hard, but you didn’t expect it to be like this. Maybe to have to throw some fake jabs, flip him off and figure out a way to stay after everyone left without people noticing, sure. But Mila trying to get with Grayson? That was not something you anticipated as one of your first hurdles.

Also the fact that this has been going on for weeks and Grayson’s said nothing? There’s no way he’s that stupid that he has no idea what she’s doing. Why wouldn’t he say anything?

Before you can reach the bathroom, you hear two voices behind you from the kitchen.

“Hey Y/N!” Mila’s now seemingly annoying voice rings through the house, causing you to turn around and face her and Grayson. He’s busying himself with getting some glasses of water as Mila motions for you to come closer. “I haven't seen you in, like, ten years!”

“Been busy.” You take a few hesitant steps closer to the pair. You watch Grayson’s eyes move to look at you a moment before he’s focused again on his task, totally silent.

“With what?” You can’t tell if it’s your anger that’s making everything about Mila almost unbearable, but her stupid smile isn’t sitting right with you.

“My boyfriend.”

Mila’s face turns from a smile to a look of confusion as Grayson pauses at the fridge.

“You have a boyfriend?”

“Mhm.” You nod, a bit more confident now. You make your way closer to the kitchen, closing the gap between the two of you. “Been busy fucking my new boyfriend.”

“I love that for you! What’s he like?”

At this point you’re not even looking at her. Grayson had turned around to watch the whole interaction happen with a raised brow. You watch him over her shoulder as you open your mouth to talk again.

“He’s tall, hot as shit, a bunch of tattoos, wears a chain, you know the type. A fucking dick when he wants to be but he’s nice to me most of the time,” you describe. By now Grayson’s smirking, his arms crossed as he realizes why you’re being the way you are: jealousy.

“That’s so good! You deserve it.” She pats your arm before turning to Grayson. He’s quick to go back to tending to the two cups he was grabbing before. “When do we get to meet him? Bet Grayson’s just dying to meet the guy who finally stole Y/N Y/L/N’s heart.” She sounds a bit bitter when she says it, but you can’t be bothered to care. She doesn’t know half of how Grayson feels about you.

He pauses again, slowly turning back to face the both of you. He looks between you and Mila, unsure of what to do.

You’d been the one who wanted to keep everything under wraps. It took you so long to finally admit how you felt about each other, and you wanted to appreciate the time you had alone before bringing everyone else into it. You loved your friends, but fuck were they all overly involved in everyone’s life.

“Bet he would.”

With that you leave, going back outside. Maybe a swim in the pool would help you cool off a bit.

The rest of the night goes relatively smoothly, everyone just enjoying each other seeing as it had been difficult to get everyone in the same place lately.

But holy shit were you ready to drop kick Mila.

She couldn’t be away from Grayson for more than five minutes. Of course your plan had been to not really talk to him to avoid any suspicion so it wasn’t like she was taking time away from you or anything, but she wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Has it been this bad for a while?” you whisper to Kacey. You were all sat in a circle, just talking after eating. Everyone was kind of having separate conversations meaning you would finally be able to get some fucking answers, even if it wasn’t from Grayson.

“She’s actually being pretty good tonight. When she’s drunk she literally is on top of the poor guy.”

You can’t help but look over at them now. She sat closely to him (she didn’t have much of a choice due to the fact that she weasled her way between him and Jas), just staring and listening as he spoke to Austin. He was leaning away from her, but every time he moved, she moved with him.

You could feel your anger bubbling up again, but you looked back at Kacey to calm yourself down a bit.

“Why didn’t anyone fucking tell me?” You do your best to keep your volume down. Ethan was on the other side of Kacey, so you didn't care if he heard but you had no interest in anyone else knowing what you guys were talking about. You weren’t the jealous type typically, but when you’re powerless it somehow has made the whole situation escalate quickly.

“I mean he’s so obviously not into it, we didn’t think it mattered?”

You scoff. “You and Gray have talked about it?”

The name of his brother makes Ethan turn his head as he tunes into the conversation.

“What?”

You cross your arms as you lean back in your chair, looking straight ahead now. You couldn’t look to your right because you didn't want to watch Mila drool over Grayson, but looking at Kacey would make you mad too.

“She’s mad we didn't tell her about the whole-” she looks around to see if anyone else is listening, lowering her voice significantly before she speaks again. “Mila thing.”

“Why?”

You raise your brow at him. “You fucking knew too?”

“Y/N, literally everyone knows.”

“Not me!”

At this point you’ve caught almost everyone's attention. You and Kacey never fought, especially not in front of everyone. You were two peas in a pod. And not to say this was a fight, you were literally the only one who wasn’t speaking at a whisper. But you couldn’t help but feel betrayed by the both of them for not telling you. The three of them had decided what was best without even considering if you’d want a say.

You look around the table at all the eyes on you and bite your lip, sinking back into your chair and closing your cardigan on your body tighter.

“So tell us more about this boyfriend, Y/N,” Mila prompts as she laughs awkwardly to try and break the tension. Little did she know her bumping her shoulder against Grayson was only causing more tension.

Kacey gives you an eye, confused as to what Mila was talking about. She fit in with everyone else, though, because they all seemed a bit lost, too.

“A boy?” Jas asks, a smirk on her face.

“It’s not important,” you mutter. When you look at Grayson, you see a bit of hurt in his eyes.

“Why not?” Mila pushes.

“Come on Kace, you definitely know him. Is he hot?”

Kacey sputters, not really sure what to say.

“Oh my god he’s ugly!”

“That’s why you won’t tell us, you don’t want to have to show us pictures!”

“You’re, like, a totally ten Y/N. Definitely don’t need to be with an ugly dude.”

“He’s not fucking ugly!” You sit up, the frustration clear in your voice.

“So then why did Kacey-”

“She can’t call her boyfriend’s brother hot.”

Complete silence takes over the entire group as they look at you, and then Grayson. His eyes are a bit wide and totally locked on you.

You stand abruptly, the sound of the chair scraping against the concrete the only noise that echoes through the backyard. Mila’s stare is burning through you, but you don’t look anywhere but the door as you make your way towards it.

“What the fuck, guys?” Grayson asks as he stands up.

“Are you really her fucking boyfriend?” Mila scoffs, looking up at him.

“Holy shit, yes.”

He leaves as everyone watches him follow you. He doesn’t care that Ethan and Kacey are going to have to deal with the aftermath of that, he just needed to know if you were okay.

He goes through the house, going to his closed bathroom door and knocking.

“Holy shit, can I be left alone for three fucking seconds? What if I actually need to pee or-”

“It’s me.”

You pause as you feel the anxiety fall from your body quickly. You rush to open the door, the tears in your eyes threatening to fall.

“I’m so sorry.”

He gives you a confused look as he enters the bathroom, moving you back so that he has room to shut the door behind him. “Sorry?”

You nod. “I know we weren’t gonna tell people but then I saw Mila all over you and when I found out that’s been happening a while I don’t know what took over and then when everyone was trying to force Kacey to talk I didn’t know what to do so I just fucking told them even though we weren’t gonna tell them and we didn’t talk about that and we didn’t even ever talk about if I’m your girlfriend and you’re my boyfriend but now I said to everyone that you’re my boyfriend and I just-” You take in a big breath as you rub your eyes.

“Hey,” he mumbles, rubbing your arms. You let your hands fall and you’re happy to see he’s much less distraught than you. “Let’s just breathe for a second.”

You nod, following the slow breaths he takes in and out, letting the feeling of his hands on you ground you a bit. Once your breathing has evened out he grabs your hands.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble out again.

He shakes his head, a quiet chuckle leaving his mouth..

“Y/N, baby. Stop with the apologizing. The only reason we weren’t telling people is because we didn’t want them in our relationship. Not because I don’t want people knowing we’re together. We’ll deal with them, even if they’re annoying as shit,” he chuckles and you crack a small smile. “And in terms of you calling me your boyfriend, I told my mom I have a girlfriend. I thought we kinda just were that, and we didn’t have to talk about it.”

“Lisa knows I exist?”

“Yeah,” he nods.

You take in one more deep breath before pulling him into a hug. He wraps his arms tightly around your torso, keeping you close to his chest.

“Mila’s gonna be devastated,” you mutter against his chest.

The vibrations of his laughter ring through your ear as he drags his hands up and down your back.

“She already is.”

You lift your head to look at him. “When were you planning on telling me about that, by the way?”

You feel him tense against you, which causes you to pull away in order to look up at him.

“I, uh, I don’t know.”

You nod, letting going of him completely in order to turn and fix your face in the mirror mindlessly. “Why weren’t you going to tell me?”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

“But there was no plan to.”

“I guess not,” he sighs.

“Why not?” You turn back to him again, doing your best to keep your face serious. You weren’t sure how much you were willing to let him see of you being an absolute emotional mess tonight.

“Because,” he shrugs, folding his arms and rubbing his hands against his biceps. “We’ve been so good, Y/N. So fucking good. I thought that shit would somehow make things worse.”

“Not telling me at all definitely made it worse.” You can visibly see him swallow as his now panicked eyes search your face for any tell of how mad you are. “You’re not into her, right?”

He scoffs. “Dude, no. Even if we weren’t together, she’s annoying as fuck. But especially now that I have you?” He chuckles, grabbing your arms to pull you flush against him again. “There’s absolutely no way in hell I’d entertain that shit. Or anyone else. If someone tries to pull that shit again I’ll tell them my hot ass girlfriend will beat the shit out of them.”

“Oh jesus christ.” You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the small smile that works its way onto your lips. “I don’t hurt people.”

“They don’t have to know that.”

“You’re gonna give me a bad rep, Grayson Dolan,” you mumble, going up on your tippy toes to move your face closer to his as your hands grip his sides to keep your balance.

“I’m worth it, though,” he mutters through a smile before finally letting his lips meet yours.

***

“God, you’re like a lovesick puppy.”

You look up from your phone for the first time in an hour, the comment from Kacey coming from where she sits across your living room.

“How do you think you were when you and Ethan started dating?”

“No, this is different. You guys are going through the initial infatuation phase while already being in love. That’s, like, double trouble.” You turn your phone off completely at her assumption and sit up to look at her better.

“In love?”

She raises an expectant eyebrow as she watches you. “Do you not know you’re in love?”

You chuckle. “I think I’d know if I’m in love.”

“Oh my god,” she laughs, gripping the blanket across her lap as she folds over. “Oh- I can’t - you - Y/N, come on,” she huffs out, continuing to laugh as she shakes her head. “You guys are both so fucking in love with each other. You were more in love with Grayson before you even started dating than you ever loved Ben.”

“Did I ever truly love Ben or did I just like the attention?”

“Come on, Y/N. This is not the time to try and reflect on how healthy your feelings were. I’m telling you you’re fucking in love.”

You scoff, throwing your hands up. “How do you know I’m in love if I don’t even know it.”

She rolls her eyes. “You know it, just like you always knew deep down the only reason you acted like you hated Grayson was because of how much you liked him. It’s your defense mechanism to not let people in.” You bite your lip as you consider her words.

Kacey called it your sixth sense. Whatever you wanna call it, your gut was reliable. From the second you met someone you could tell what type of role they would play in your life. You just liked to say you were good at reading people.

But you pushed that down most of the time. Because no matter how bad the person was, they always stuck around to teach you some overarching life lesson. So you would let life happen naturally, doing your best to ignore your intuitions.

And maybe when Kacey had first told you about her and Ethan you could tell he was gonna be around a long time. That was a good sign, a much better sign than any bad feelings. It was only when she would tell the occasional story about Grayson that your gut went whack.

So you avoided them like the plague because no one had made you have any type of intuition just from secondhand stories before. You’d never even met the guy in person before. But you couldn’t control the feeling you got when you talked about him or saw pictures of him or Kacey made you watch their videos.

Maybe your hatred for them was your way of trying to control a situation you really had no control over.

And you’re totally aware, deep deep down that Kacey is totally right on all accounts. You just weren’t ready to confront those feelings today.

“Earth to Y/N?” A piece of popcorn hits you in the face and brings you back to reality.

“What if I’m just infatuated with him and only love the idea of being with a guy I feel like is unattainable?”

Kacey deadpans.

“Okay fine maybe I love him a tiny bit.”

“Oh honey, it’s a lot a bit. But that means we get to be sister-in-laws one day!” She gets up and squeals as she dances around.

“Dude chill, I’m not gonna tell him. We’ve been together for literally three months! And-”

“You’ve been in love for literally so much longer but keep going.”

You roll your eyes but continue your original thought. “First, he would have to love me back, and-”

“He’s been in love with you since before you even met but continue.”

You give her a serious look and she sighs, calming down a bit as she moves to sit with you on the couch.

“We are literally so early on in this relationship. And in life! Who says I even want to get married, or if he does-”

“He totally does.”

“Kacey I will literally strangle you.”

“I’m sorry!” She pouts as she grabs your hands. “I’m just happy for you. You deserve it, the happiness and all of that. I promise I won’t joke about marriage for a while, but let yourself be happy that you’re in love with someone who also loves and cherishes you. He literally is head over heels for you. Like, doesn’t shut up about you ever kinda love.”

That news should make you feel good. Secure, even.

But instead it makes you even more anxious. Because the further you become invested in each other, the more you have to lose. And you’re not sure if you have it in you to lose him.

“You’re spiraling. Oh god why are you spiraling?”

You turn and lean over so that you’re practically laying on top of Kacey at this point. She wraps her arms around you as you try to quell the rising panic.

“It’s gonna hurt so bad when it ends.”

You can feel her tense up for a moment before she starts rubbing your back.

“What makes you say it’s gonna end?” “All good things end, K. At least in my world.”

“Well, Grayson’s better than good. He’s amazing. What’s your gut say?”

You shrug. “For the first time, I actually can’t tell.”

***

It seemed that the harder you pushed your love for Grayson down, the more prominent it became. It was harder to breathe the minute you would see him, but as soon as he was touching you in any way, all of your anxieties flew out the window. No one had simultaneously made you feel so alive and electric, yet so relaxed and calm at the same time. Loving Grayson was fun and easy.

And that made you terrified.

You know Grayson knows something is up, your poker face is shit. But you can’t help but get in your head every time you’re around him. You hear Kacey’s voice telling you to just be honest with how you feel, but your fear of fucking everything up shut that idea down fast.

That didn’t change the distance growing between the two of you, though. Going from seeing each other everyday to a few times a week, picking up your phone every time there was a lull in the conversation rather than asking about something else or just staring at each other until you started laughing. Things were changing quickly.

“Can we talk?”

Another change.

You’d never heard Grayson so serious before, or so quiet and timid. He almost sounded like a wounded animal, calling out its last cry for help.

You nod as you sit up on the couch to make room for him. He walks over to you, sitting sideways on the cushions so that he was facing you directly. His arm rests on the back of the cushion, his fingers against your shoulder prompting you to turn and face him as well. You oblige, sitting criss cross and tucking your feet underneath you as you played with the fringe of the pillow in your lap.

“I, uh, I don’t really...I just - fuck,” he covers his face with his palms, already frustrated with the way he can’t seem to verbalize his thoughts.

His anxiety makes your own anxiety creep up from within you as your chest tightens and your ears start to ring.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

You didn’t intend to sound so fragile, but at this point you had little control over anything. You were gripping the pillow to your chest so hard you felt like you could rip it in half.

His head whips up so that his eyes can meet your sad ones. “No. Shit - ” he shakes his head as he squeezes his eyes shut. “I feel like you’re gonna break up with me.”

“What?” You can’t help the laughter that starts to bubble up and out of your mouth as you lean forward a bit. “Are you serious?”

“I don’t know! You’ve been - how do I… different. Distant.”

You take in a breath, your lips pulling together as you watch the way his eyes almost turn down.

“I’m sorry.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t wanna talk about it to make you feel like you have to apologize for something. I just need to know what’s going on, why you’re less...interested.”

It feels like a knife is being pushed into your chest the minute he finishes his thought. Sure, you’d been a bit distant because of your internal battle that seemed never ending, but you’d never intended to make him feel like you were less into him. Hell, the whole issue is that you’re too into him.

“Gray,” you shake your head, loosening your grip on the pillow and moving to grab one of his hands. He lets you hold it, but doesn’t give you the reassuring pressure of squeezing you back that he always does. “Grayson,” you say more seriously so that his eyes focus on yours. “That’s not what’s happening. I…”

He raises a brow at you expectantly, but you just sigh and let your head fall back on your shoulders. You think if you look up that maybe the tears gathering along your waterline won’t fall down your cheeks.

“Y/N.”

“Hm?” You hum, now closing your eyes to try and trap the tears there.

“What is happening?”

You bite your lip as you shake your head, slowly lowering it again and opening your eyes. As soon as you do so the tears you tried so hard to prevent cloud your vision and slowly stream down your cheeks.

It breaks Grayson’s heart to see you so conflicted and emotional, even if he doesn’t know why. He gives your hand the squeeze you’d been waiting for.

That action is what pushes you over the edge, and you begin to cry. You fold forward over the pillow as your free hand comes to cover your eyes. You let it all out, the stress, the anxiety, the fear, through every shaking sob that leaves your body. Grayson sits there watching, never letting go of your hand.

You guys stay like that until you’re finally able to take in a full breath. His thumb rubs gently over the skin of the back of your hand as you wipe your eyes with your free palm.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle.

“No,” he mumbles out quietly, his voice a bit hoarse. When you lift your head, you see the tears lining his eyes. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“I do though.” You take in one more big breath before squaring off your shoulders as you prepare to tell him the truth. “It’s my fault you’re sad, and you’ve literally done nothing wrong. You’ve been doing everything right, actually,” you admit. “I’ve been acting all weird and shit because I…” He raises his brows as he waits for you to finish your sentence. You sigh, preparing to say the words that ran through your mind every time you looked at him.

“I love you.”

For some reason, despite your voice being muffled from the hoarseness of your throat, those words seem to echo through the whole room, the universe, even. It’s the only thing you can hear reverberating off the walls because Grayson stopped breathing the minute they left your mouth. And the quieter the echoes get, the more room there is for anxiety to grow inside of you.

Thankfully he doesn’t leave you hanging too long, and as he opens his mouth you can’t decide if you’re grateful he’s able to collect his thoughts so fast or terrified of the rejection you’ve been anticipating since your conversation with Kacey.

“Holy shit.”

Holy shit?

“Holy fucking shit.” He starts laughing loudly, the words repeatedly falling from his mouth through each borderline scream that now replaces the silence in the room. His free hand comes to his chest as he tries to catch his breath, and you watch him in a mix of amusement and horror, completely unsure of what to do.

“Grayson?”

That seems to get his attention, and he’s able to quiet himself a bit. But instead of trying to talk like you expect, he lets go of your hand to bring both of his palms to your cheeks. Before you can comprehend what he’s doing your noses are bumping against one another as he brings his lips to yours. You can barely even call it a kiss because you can feel the way his lips are still turned into a smile as he continues to chuckle into your mouth. He does his best, though, giving you a few quick kisses before he pulls away again with his stupid grin still spread across his face.

“That’s the best god damn thing to ever come out of your mouth.”

You let out a breathy chuckle of relief, still not totally sure what’s happening but just happy he’s not running for the hills.

“We’re getting fucking BJ’s tonight,” he declares while standing, rushing around to find his keys. You sit there still in shock, not sure what the fuck happened and still trying to process his reaction. While he slips his shoes on, he pauses when he notices you still completely unmoved on the couch. “Are you not hungry? It’s our spot, you always want BJ’s.”

“No, I just…” you shake your head, standing from the couch much slower than he did. “Is this a good thing?”

He looks at you confused. “Is what a good thing?”

“That I love you.”

“Baby.” He practically jogs over to you. ��It’s the best thing. Can’t top it, honestly. Well, unless you tell me you’re pregnant, then-”

“Hold up.” You bring your hand up to stop him in his tracks. “No to me being pregnant anytime soon you psycho.” He rolls his eyes but he lets you continue as he rests his hands on your hips. “But does that mean…”

As soon as he connects the dots of your unspoken question, he almost appears to physically melt in front of you.

“Of course.” He leans in, leaving kisses along your cheeks, going up to your forehead and ending at the tip of your nose before brushing his lips over yours. “With my whole heart, I love you too.”

#Grayson dolan #Grayson dolan imagine #Grayson dolan fanfic #Grayson dolan fanfiction #Grayson dolan concept #Grayson dolan blurb #Grayson dolan smut #dolan twins #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins fanfiction #dolan twins concept #dolan twins blurb #dolan twins smut #hyt

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ppersonna · 5 years ago

Text

little surfer girl - jjk

little surfer, little one. made my heart come all undone. do you love me, do you surfer girl?- little surfer girl, the beach boys

summary- every summer you watched jeon jungkook turn into a perfect, professional surfer. every summer, you wanted him more. this summer, you were determined to make him yours.

rating- R/NC17

word count- 9.8k

pairing- jungkook x reader

genre- surfing!au, surfer!jungkook, fluff, smut, tiniest bit of angst in the form of pining and jungkook being bad at talking, background namseok, background vmin

warnings- penetrative sex, oral sex (m/f receiving), slight dirty talk, creampie, cursing, recreational alcohol use (of legal age), public sex, marking, nippleplay, finger sucking

There was nothing that you loved more than the ocean.

The smell of sea water, the salty taste, the sand clinging to skin, the warm sun toasting around the edges.

You loved the call of the birds, swooping up and down the shoreline for scraps of whatever the tourists left. You loved the sound of the waves crashing against the tall beams supporting the pier.

You loved the sunbathers, the smell of coconut sunscreen, the chiming of bike bells. The beach was your home, and you loved everything about it.

However, the best part, by far, was Jeon Jungkook.

You loved watching the black-haired boy stroll down the long stretch of sand, clad in either a wetsuit, or just some skin tight board shorts, long surfboard under his arm.

Sometimes, he would arrive at lunchtime, shoving a burrito into his mouth as he suited up. Sometimes, he would be there at 6 am, when you arrived to start your shift at the lifeguard station. Sometimes, he would come right at the edge of evening, sun slowly dying beyond the horizon of the Pacific Ocean.

Sometimes he came with his friends, Hoseok and Jin. They would aimlessly roam around on their boards, laughing if one fell and trying to outmaneuver each other, laughter echoing down the expanse of water and sand.

Jeon Jungkook loved the beach as much as you did. And you worshiped him for it.

You often watched the boy for hours, as he attempted to move through each wave perfectly, gliding against the water like it was glass. He was graceful, so impeccably poised on the top of each crested wave.

It wasn’t fair that he could be so perfect in and out of the water.

It wasn’t fair that he rarely gave you a passing glance.

“You’ll catch flies in your mouth if you keep staring at him like that,” Taehyung spoke, saddling up next to you and leaning against the wood of the lifeguard shack.

You shook your head and quickly closed your mouth. You didn’t know it had opened in amazement as you stared at the lithe surfer.

Taehyung chuckled, rolling his eyes at his best friend. “You’re ridiculous.”

You elbowed him and turned away from the shoreline, focusing your attention directly on your best friend and most certainly not on the tall, handsome, fit surfer gliding over the waves.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you sniffed. “I was monitoring the shoreline for potential dangers, Kim Taehyung. That is my job as a lifeguard.”

He laughed again, his low baritone comforting. “Sure, babe,” he sighed. “Definitely not drooling over Jungkook, I believe you.”

Taehyung knew all about the crush you harbored on the surfer ever since you first saw him 3 summers ago at the start of your lifeguard career. You remembered your first day with your best friend.

“Who is that?” You had asked, watching the man shoving at his friends jokingly, and paddling beside them through the water. Taehyung had only laughed in reply. “Really?” He asked, surprised. “That’s Jeon Jungkook. He’s going professional soon, most likely.”

Your eyes never once left the boy again, always seeking him out along the shoreline, missing him when he took a day off from his practice and training.

Since that day, Taehyung made it a point to tease you about your unrequited crush on the boy, and always in not-so-subtle language told you you deserved better than the fuckboy surfing god.

You weren’t naïve to the fact that wherever Jungkook went, a gaggle of bikini-clad gorgeous women followed. You weren’t foolish enough not to notice the smirks and winks he shot at them, desperately wishing that it was you.

Taehyung grumbled about the muscled surfer, stating that all he would do is fuck you over and break your heart, and couldn’t you just date someone nice like his cousin Namjoon?

Taehyung seemed to be in such a mood that day, too.

“I still can’t understand what you see in him,” he groused. “Sure, I guess he’s good looking, but he seems like such a player. Jimin told me he saw him take that Jennie girl behind the cabanas last weekend.”

Your heart sagged, feeling defeated at his words. Jennie was beautiful. Tall, thin and gorgeous. Surely, that was Jungkook’s type. Jungkook’s type was definitely not lifeguard’s wearing red spandex one-pieces a la Baywatch, without the ample bosom. Well, maybe some bosom, but nothing compared to the women flocking the young surfer from the shore.

You bit your lip and shrugged at your best friend, ignoring the shot in your heart at imagining Jungkook with someone, anyone, but you.

“He’s nice,” you murmured. Not that you would really know. The man had spoken four sentences to you in the 3 years you’ve worked as a lifeguard, and most of those were asking about where a trash can was. “And he’s so talented. He loves the ocean, you can tell,” you sighed, resting your head on your hand as you watched him from the ledge of the lifeguard shack.

Jungkook was especially in the zone that day, eyebrows drawn tight in concentration as he cut through the curve of the tube of water. He seemed to practice more intently recently, the National Surfing Tournament was quickly approaching. Jungkook was one of the best surfer’s in the nation and had recently gone professional. You were sure he was eager to score more branding deals and secure his spot on the international scene.

“Namjoon is nice! Much nicer!” Taehyung was incensed. “Passionate too, and not an asshole!”

Taehyung was determined to set you up with his cousin, Kim Namjoon. Tae wasn’t wrong, Namjoon was nice. He was shy, quiet, intelligent and sweet. He was passionate about physics, math, science, and had earned a full-ride scholarship to the country’s most prestigious scientific university.

Maybe, if you hadn’t met Jungkook, you’d give Namjoon a shot. Unfortunately for the elder Kim cousin, no one could compare to Jungkook, regardless of how unlikely it was for him to ever glance your way.

“Yes, Tae,” you sighed. “Namjoon is very passionate… about engineering.”

“Hey! Engineering is a respectable profession, unlike professional surfing,” he sneered, as if the word tasted dirty in his mouth.

You patted the brown-haired boy’s arm and smiled at him, not wanting to upset him further about his beloved cousin.

“It’s just a stupid crush, Tae, okay?” You reassured. “It’s not like Jungkook even knows who I am except for the girl who knows where to throw trash away.”

Taehyung nodded and squeezed your arm. “Anyway, are you going to the tournament pre-party next weekend?” He asked, a shy blush spreading across his cheeks. “Jimin asked me to go with him.”

The pre-party.

You had almost forgotten, so focused on the tournament itself and watching Jungkook prepare harder each day. You almost had his moves memorized by how often you watched. The tournament pre-party was a few nights before the big day, a way for the surfers, fans and locals alike to party and celebrate. The entire community of young adults in the area communed on the beach for bonfires, too much alcohol, volleyball, and countless summer frivolities.

“Oh,” you breathed, eyes zeroing in again on the tall surfer of your affections. You knew it was hopeless to think Jungkook would ask you, but you couldn’t help the ache in your heart that desperately wanted him to. “I forgot.”

Taehyung’s eyes lit up. “You don’t have anyone to take you?” He asked an ulterior motive on his mind.

“I had someone in mind…” you sighed. Jungkook appeared exhausted, finally seated on the surface of his board, panting hard. “But, no, no one has asked me.”

Taehyung smirked a devious grin. You barely noticed, because of a cute pink-haired lifeguard appearing on the sand below you.

“Oh, hi Jimin!” You called to the cherubic boy below. “Are you here to see your lover?”

Jimin and Tae simultaneously turned a deep shade of crimson. Christ, they were perfect for each other.

“Hi, Jimin,” Tae smiled shyly. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to bring you lunch,” Jimin’s teeth caught his bottom lip anxiously. “You too.” He smiled at you and held up the paper bag, earning a squeak of delight from your best friend as he tugged you down the stairs to greet his crush and receive his treats.

“Where’s ours, Jimin?” A new voice called.

Three heads whipped around to investigate the voice. It was Kim Seokjin, a teasing grin on his face. He was flanked by Jung Hoseok, and none other than Jeon Jungkook. You felt as if someone had sucked the air out of you with a vacuum.

Jimin blushed again, looking out at the men approaching the lifeguard station, dripping wet, half stripped out of their wetsuits, and exhausted.

“Sorry, Jinnie! I didn’t realize you guys were here.” He hugged Jin with one arm, causing Tae to raise an eyebrow at the exchange.

Jimin seemed to notice the confusion and hurried to explain. “This is Jin! My neighbor! We grew up together.” Taehyung visibly relaxed. “And this is Hoseok and Jungkook, his best friends.” The boys waved at you two, and you prayed your hair looked decent today. A hand reached up to press down on your tresses, just in case.

“I’m Taehyung!” Your best friend spoke, happy demeanor quickly re-appearing as he recognized Jin was not a threat. “And this is my best friend, Y/N!”

You willed your cheeks not to flare red as the men took you in. You wore your standard issue red Speedo swimsuit, accentuating your thicker hips and thighs from years of gymnastics, and clinging to your chest. Fuck, did you look okay? Your one chance to impress Jungkook and you were wholly unprepared. Your arms crossed over your chest, hiding your body behind your arms.

However, you smiled at the men, watching as Jin and Hoseok smirked at you and Jungkook’s face remained impassive.

“Yeah, I’ve seen you around,” Jungkook added. “You guys are always here.”

“Well,” you gulped. “Someone’s gotta… guard those lives…” Really? What the fuck kind of joke was that?

It was silent for a beat, before Seokjin burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Oh, I like you!” He joked as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “A woman after my own heart.”

Jin’s friends rolled their eyes at the older man’s antics. Jin was known for his lame jokes, Jimin explained to you.

“You guys are going to the party next weekend, right?” Jimin asked the male trio, moving to stand near Tae. Tae grinned at the boy as they linked hands.

The boys exchanged looks with each other. “Yeah,” Hoseok replied. “I’m taking my boyfriend, Yoongi and Jin is taking our friend June.”

Tae smiled back at the group. “Jimin and I are going together!” He was excited, it was palpable. The pair were tooth-rotting cute and the rest of the party smiled at how endearing the budding romance was.

“What about you?” Jin asked, peering in your direction. “Who’s lucky enough to take you?”

You flushed and stammered, unable to croak out the words.

Tae, thankfully, took over. “She forgot about it. She hasn’t found anyone yet.”

Jin’s face lit up, and he nudged you gently in the ribs. “Jungkook doesn’t have anyone to go with, either! You two should go together!”

Your face flushed immediately, and you shot your eyes to Jungkook, who laughed out loud with a blush on his face.

“What?!” He yelped. “No, no!” he stammered. “I uh… I’m going with Jennie!”

You felt your heart rip at the seams, and Taehyung clenched his fist in anger.

Jin narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “You told us she’s a bad kisser, and that she was rude.”

“No!” Jungkook yelled. “She’s great! It’s fine! Oh, uhh… my mom’s here, gotta go!” He tore off towards the parking lot, leaving you in your dust and broken heart.

Hoseok lifted a brow and looked at Jin. “Doesn’t his mom live like… 4 hours away?”

Jin just laughed and shrugged, leaning in to give Jimin a goodbye hug. “Sorry about that! Jungkook is a little edgy.”

Taehyung grumbled under his breath and Jimin moved to quickly cover it up.

“It’s fine!” he assuaged. “No harm!” He chuckled nervously, stealing you a glance. He could tell by the broken puppy dog eyes on your face that there was certainly harm.

Taehyung was irate. “Yeah! She’s going with Kim Namjoon, anyway!” You whipped your head to him, incredulous and confused. He stared back at you, resolute.

You groaned, lowering your head to stare at your sandy feet.

“Oh, yeah?” Jin asked, ears perking up. “That delicious-...err… I mean, intelligent engineer guy?”

Taehyung, oblivious to Jin’s careful re-wording, nodded. “Yeah! He’s totally a catch, and he’s lucky to be going with her.”

Jin nodded and smiled at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Definitely.” He chanced a glance at you, and could tell by the look on your face you felt otherwise. He leaned to your ear and whispered only for you to hear, “If you find out he bats for the other team, will you let me know?”

Jin was good in your book. You giggled at the older boy and nodded, before peering back at your best friend’s confused gaze.

“Well, we better go! Looks like we’ve been ditched for some… mom time,” he motioned towards the parking lot that Jungkook fled to and gazed back at Hoseok. “Let’s head out?”

Hoseok nodded, and you murmured your farewells to both, and laughed silently as Jin winked at you.

“I can’t believe it,” Taehyung kicked at the sand after the duo left. “What an asshole! He was so rude! I knew he wasn’t good enough for you.”

You had momentarily forgotten about the rejection, too caught up in Jin’s obvious interest in your apparent new date to the party. Right. The new date because Jungkook couldn’t even fathom you on his arm; it was laughable to him. Ouch.

Jimin approached you and wrapped you in his arms. “Sorry, love,” he murmured as his date kicked angrily at the sand, cursing Jeon Jungkook’s name. “He really is an idiot.”

Taehyung put himself back together and hugged the two of you tight. “Joonie will be excited to take you,” he replied with a grin wide on his face.

You groaned. “Can’t wait.”

“Jeon Jungkook, what the hell is wrong with you!?” Kim Seokjin shrieked as he walked into the parking lot and found the surfer sitting on the edge at a soft thatch of grass, surfboard haphazardly laid next to him.

Jungkook winced, knowing the lecture would come from his oldest friend.

“I’m sorry!” he started, looking up at the man with pleading eyes. “I just-... I don’t-...” he was at a loss for words, unable to explain his behavior.

He sighed and looked back down at his feet. Why had he reacted so negatively? He barely even knew the girl, but had been so overwhelmed by the sight of her in her red swimsuit and cute braided hair, and Jin suddenly;y suggesting they go to the party together. He was flustered.

“I don’t even know her! I think I asked her once about a fucking trashcan! Why would she want to go with someone she doesn’t know?” He complained.

Jin rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, the picture of motherly scorn. “You could have gotten to know her on the fucking DATE!” he snapped. “Instead, you laughed in the poor girl’s face! She looked like a kicked puppy.”

Jungkook winced and rubbed at his ocean-burned eyes, feeling a headache beginning in his temples. “I’m sorry!” he exasperated. “I’ll apologize sometime! I’ll ask her to go with me!”

Jungkook supposed he really wouldn’t mind having the lifeguard on his arm at the party. She filled out her swimsuit nicely and had a gorgeous smile. She was shy, it seemed, but he supposed that wasn’t so bad. He mentally kicked himself for reacting so harshly.

“Too late,” Hoseok chimed in. “She’s going with Kim Namjoon.”

At the name, Jungkook snapped his eyes to Jin, who huffed. “If he falls in love with her and not me at this party, I’m shoving your surfboard up your ass.”

Spending your days at the lifeguard shack was easier said than done after Jungkook’s blatant rejection. Your eyes followed him constantly, watching as he practiced each turn, tube ride, and off-the-lip. He practiced constantly, nearly 7 hours a day. He only took breaks to come to shore to eat and drink water and occasionally scurry off to the bathroom. You desperately wanted to turn away, the sight of him at all causing your heart to clench. But you were powerless, utterly unable to avoid the magnetism that was Jeon Jungkook.

Your shifts switched between partnering with Jimin and Taehyung, both trying to do anything in their power to lift your spirits. Taehyung chattered away between how excited he was to go with Jimin, and how great it would be to see you and Namjoon together. Jimin avoided any topic of Jungkook or Namjoon and simply discussed what you would wear to the party and flicked through various websites on his phone with you to determine.

Jimin yipped with excitement. “Look at this one,” he swooned, shoving his phone under your nose. “You’d look so good!”

You glanced at the screen, a golden bikini top in the frame. It cupped the model’s chest nicely, allowing ample cleavage, and wrapping around the neck with a halter tie. It was beautiful, shimmery and trendy.

“I dunno,” you sighed. “Can I pull that off?”

Jimin smirked. “I’m sure Namjoon could pull it off you.”

“Oh god,” you snorted. “Not you too! Plus, I think Seokjin likes him.”

Jimin hummed. “Well, I think you should still get it. Wear it with a cute tight skirt!” His face was lit up. You couldn’t deny the boy. “Plus, you’ll make stupid Jungkook regret his decision.”

Your face fell at the name. Jimin internally slapped himself for bringing him up.

“I’m sorry, bub,” he whispered, taking your hand in his. “He really is an idiot for what he did to you.”

You smiled at Jimin, willing yourself not to cry at work. “Thanks, Jimin,” you sighed. “It’s okay. I’ll buy it! It will look great.” You mostly bought it to ensure Jimin didn’t feel too guilty, but also because it would likely make your tits look great, and you could use some revenge on the surfer.

The pink-haired boy happily clicked the ‘buy’ button, and you entered your card information, thankful that the package would arrive a few days before the party.

You and Jimin settled into an easy conversation, discussing his and Taehyung’s date. The lithe little lifeguard regaled you with his grand romantic gestures that he planned to surprise Taehyung and officially ask him to be his boyfriend. It was cute, and your best friend definitely deserved the adoration. But it was acutely making your heart clench in jealousy and sadness.

You glanced at your watch, noting the time. “Hey, I’m going to go walk down the and do shore checks,” you smiled as you grabbed your long white life preserver and slipped ray bans on your eyes. Jimin nodded and spritzed you with sunblock before you made your way out the door.

The walk down the shore was a practiced one. Your eyes scanned over the surface of the water, trained to spot anything wrong or dangerous. You knelt down to apply a band-aid to a little boy’s scraped knee and picked up trash that a seagull would surely choke on. It was easy to busy yourself with minimal tasks and keeping an active eye for danger on the horizon.

The distractions were very welcome, and your mind flittered comfortably around and never landed on the topic of a certain tall, fit surfer.

Until he was standing right in front of you, your body colliding into his.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed. “Sorry!” You stood and dusted off; you had fallen directly onto the sand on your ass. You looked at the large person standing in front of you and felt your heart sink.

“I was calling your name for like...4 minutes,” he said amused. “Aren’t lifeguards supposed to be paying attention?”

You blushed and crossed your arms over your chest, huffing. “What do you want?”

Okay, you were a little short, a little rude. But the man laughed at the idea of being seen with you! He deserved at least a little of it.

Jungkook blanched at the tone of your voice. “I’m- uh,” he struggled to find words. “I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” He nibbled at his lip. “About the other day. And for knocking you over just now.”

You crossed your arms tighter against your chest and lifted your sunglasses up your face to rest on your head. “You were an asshole,” you mumbled.

He rubbed at the back of his neck anxiously. “I know, yeah,” he swallowed harshly. “I guess they caught me off guard and didn’t know what to say. Are you still going alone?”

You paused, unsure how to respond. To tell him about your fake date with Namjoon, or not.

“No,” you sighed. “I’m going with Kim Namjoon.”

Jungkook scoffed. “That nerd!?” You felt your eyes narrow. Only you got to call Namjoon a nerd, maybe Seokjin too, but not Jungkook, and not in that tone. “I wanted to ask you if you would go with me. Jennie’s already got someone else.”

“Oh, so I’m the second choice now?” You lifted an eyebrow, and he hurried to explain.

“No! Well, yeah!” He was fucking up, he knew it. “But not in a bad way!” God, Jungkook wished he could punch himself out cold so he could stop this train wreck. He felt like such an idiot.

“How is it not a bad way, Jungkook?” You asked, annoyance and hurt rising steadily.

“Nevermind! It’s fine,” he huffed, angry at himself and allowing it to come out on you. “I was just thinking you’d be eager to ditch the dweeb and be the lucky lady on my arm.”

How in the world did he think that was okay to say? You glared at him for a moment.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” you bit. “I’m the lucky one!? You should feel lucky that I even listened to your shit apology, let alone entertain the thought of going to the party with you!”

You continued your rant and Jungkook wished the earth would swallow him. Why was it so hard to talk to you like a normal fucking human?

“Namjoon is polite, and sweet and smart and not a fucking bully who thinks he’s better than everyone!” you yelled, aware that passersby were watching the scene unfold. A lifeguard yelling at a professional surfer, how charming. “And he’s the lucky one because I’m fucking great!”

“So you can have your fucking apology and go to the party alone, you absolute asswipe!” With that, you turned around and stormed back to the lifeguard tower, stewing in your mixed anger and grief.

You were suddenly very grateful to wear that golden bikini, eager to rub just exactly what Jungkook lost out on in his face.

The weekend of the party came quickly, far quicker than you were ready for. As much as you enjoyed Namjoon’s company, it was still a little awkward. Even more so now that you knew Seokjin, your newest friend, held a candle for the tall genius.

Taehyung sat on your bed as you finished applying makeup, a bronzy yet natural look. Taehyung wore short shorts and a tank, showing off his impossibly toned and tanned arms and thighs. He looked fantastic and knew that Jimin would salivate at the sight.

“You look incredible, bubby,” Tae smiled as he stood behind you and helped secure the necklace you were fumbling with. “Namjoon is a lucky man.”

You flushed, not wanting to burst Taehyung’s bubble regarding your platonic feelings towards his cousin. “Thanks, Taetae.”

You glanced at your finished look in the long mirror as Tae stood behind you and rubbed your shoulders. The golden bikini top wrapped around your body seamlessly, lifting your breasts with ample cleavage and complimenting your lifeguard tan.

You wore a short and tight, high-waisted denim skirt and simple sandals you could easily slip off once in the sand. It different from the 70s vibe of your normal lifeguard outfit. Your hair fell down in curls, rather than held up in braids or a bun, and makeup adorned your tanned features. Not bad, you smirked.

Taehyung hugged you from behind, but jumped as the doorbell rang.

“Oh! That's Joonie!” He quickly scuttled away.

You took a deep breath, summoned every ounce of courage and walked out to meet your date.

Namjoon smiled kindly at you, wearing a sensible pair of knee-length jean shorts and a designer tee.

“You look amazing!” he smiled as you grabbed a sweater in case it got too cold. A bikini only gave so much coverage against wind.

“Thanks Joon,” you replied. “You too.”

Tae sighed as if watching a romantic movie. “Oh my sweet little lovebirds,” you rolled your eyes. “Go have fun! Namjoon, you take care of her!” He wagged his finger in his cousin's face. “I know where you live!”

You and Namjoon laughed at his antics.

“Okay bub, that’s enough,” you hugged your best friend. “Go get your man.”

He kissed both your cheeks and hugged his tall cousin. “Hopefully by the end of tonight, he will be my man.” He winked before slipping out the door.

“He’s too much, sometimes,” Namjoon chuckled. You nodded as you opened the front door for him.

“Don’t blame me, he’s your cousin,” you teased, and the pair of you left towards the beach.

You heard the music of the party before you saw it. You and Namjoon had been chatting easily as you walked the few blocks to the beach. His conversation helped quell the anxiety growing in your stomach. Jungkook would be there. You were still so mad at him, and yet still undeniably attracted to the popular surfer. It frustrated you he gave you every reason not to like him and still, your brain resisted.

“Wow, it looks wild,” Namjoon breathed as you approached the crowd. There were groups of people everywhere, each in various states of beachwear and undress.

You nodded, eyes peering around for any familiar face. You quickly spotted Jin with his date, a cute and petite brunette, along with Hoseok and Yoongi. Thankfully, Jungkook was nowhere to be seen. Jin and his crowd quickly made their way towards you.

“My princess!” He exclaimed as he wrapped his arms around you. He tucked his lips by your ear and whispered, “So, you think I got a chance?” You turned to smile at him and shrugged.

“He didn’t seem to care about my tits,” you surmised. Not that it meant he was gay, but since Seokjin seemed to grasp at straws, so did you.

“How unfair to you!” he faux-gasped. “You could see these puppies from space!” He patted your shoulders and looked at the tall genius.

Namjoon’s eyes were glued to Seokjin, transfixed. Jin stuck his hand out towards him.

“Hi, I’m Seokjin. But you can call me Jin,” he mewled, eyes giving off blatant ‘come hither’ vibes.

Namjoon licked his lips and slowly extended his own hand. “Namjoon,” he replied.

Jin grinned. “I know,” he teased. “You’re the local Einstein.”

Namjoon flushed, and you nudged Jin, asking to take it easy on the boy.

Within a blink, Tae and Jimin joined your group, hands clasped together and giddy smiles on their faces. Namjoon arched an eyebrow at his cousin and Tae merely smiled, one that spoke volumes of love for the pink-haired lifeguard.

“Where’s Jungkook?” Tae growled as he took stock of who was present. Hoseok awkwardly coughed.

“He’s uh,” Hoseok started. “Coming late.”

You pursed your lips, ignoring the fast beat of your heart. Namjoon was still engaged in a staring contest with Seokjin and you smiled at Jin’s date, June. “Do you want to go with me to get a drink, June?” You asked, feeling awkward that the girl’s date was openly flirting with yours.

She nodded appreciatively and walked with you towards the beer garden. “Sorry about the boys,” you murmured. “It’s a little awkward when your date partners flirt with each other.”

June giggled and grabbed a cold cup of beer.

“I don’t mind,” she smiled behind the foam. “Jin is one of my best friends. I’m gay, my girlfriend is just out-of-town so I agreed to come with him.”

You sighed a breath of relief. “Oh thank god, I was worried you would kill me or Namjoon.”

June giggled, she was adorable, and shook her head. “No way. Do you know how many times I’ve had to listen to Jin wax poetic about him? I started to get a crush on him!” she teased.

June was easy to talk to, and you found yourself throwing back a beer and grasping at another before she asked if you wanted to head back towards the group.

“June! Hey!” a voice called out, causing you both to turn around. The source of the voice was none other than Jungkook.

“Oh,” he faltered as he took in your body, your outfit. Fuck, you looked good. He willed himself not to pop a boner, especially since you were less than pleased with him. “Hey,” his cheeks were flaring red.

“Hi Kook!” June exclaimed, hugging the muscular boy. Not that you were looking at his muscles. “Where’s Jennie?”

Your head tilted, confused at the statement. Jungkook was actively aware of your body language. He coughed in order to relieve the tension in his throat.

“She’s just,” he didn’t know where to begin. “With some friends at the moment.”

You sucked at your teeth. “Glad you found someone to go with after all, Jungkook. I would hate for you to have to resort to your second choice.”

You spun around and stormed back towards your friends, leaving June and Kook in your wake.

You avoided Jungkook for much of the night. You danced with your friends, roasted marshmallows with Namjoon, did shots with Jimin and Tae, and walked down the shore towards the lifeguard booth you worked at regularly with your date.

“So,” you smiled at him. “Seems like you hit it off with Seokjin.”

Namjoon’s cheeks bloomed red. “Well, sure, yeah,” he gasped. “He’s… nice.”

You elbowed the man gently. “Joonie, it’s okay. You like him.”

Namjoon paused and looked at you before gazing back at his feet.

“I’m so sorry. I know you like me, and Tae always talks about your crush on me, but I’m… I’m gay. You’re beautiful and all, but I just don’t see you that way.”

You spluttered, laughing with confusion.

“What!? Tae told you what!? Oh, my god,” you laughed. “I thought you were gay, Joon! And I love you as a friend, but I don’t have a crush on you.”

He looked relieved, eyes now locked on yours. “What? Really?” He gasped, then frowned. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

You hugged him tight. “He was so desperate to see us get together he didn’t see the obvious,” you sighed after you pulled away. “Seokjin likes you too. You should go to him. The girl he’s with isn’t his girlfriend. It’s his lesbian best friend.” You laughed at the incredulity of the circumstances of the night.

Namjoon held you tight and smiled. “Sorry,” he mumbled awkwardly. “I’m glad we came together though, I enjoy being with you. As friends.” He added.

You quickly nodded and agreed. “Now go suck his dick! I can walk myself home.”

Joon blushed again. It was easy to get that reaction out of him. He kissed your hands and turned back towards the party, seeking the older man.

You ambled towards the lifeguard station, quickly hopping up to sit on the weather-worn wood planks and watch the waves roll in. It was nice to step away from the party, from the crowds and noise. Being at the ocean at night reminded you of how much you loved it, how you felt as if it rushed through your veins.

“I see you’re lost in your own thoughts again,” a familiar voice called. You quickly snapped at the intruder. Jungkook. Of course, you couldn’t escape him. You wanted him near and wanted him gone all at once.

“I was calling your name again, and you didn’t hear me. Maybe you should see a doctor,” he teased as he hopped up next to you on the shack porch.

You grumbled. “What are you doing out here?” You asked. “Aren’t you like the life of the party? Where’s Jennie?”

He frowned and looked out at the water. “Making out with her ex.”

Oh, yikes. You felt bad for him, regardless of if he deserved it or not.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“I’m tired of the party. Everyone wants to talk to me about the money and the fame from my sponsorships. No one asks me how I’m feeling about the competition.”

You bit your lip, allowing Jungkook to continue.

“It gets old, I guess. Girls always wanting to talk about my sponsorship deals, and if I’ve met any Olympians,” he chuckled darkly. “Sorry, I sort of dumped that on you.”

You shook your head, staring at the object of your affections. “I get it,” you agreed. “If it’s any consolation, I think you’ll do great at the tournament.” You bit your lip, afraid to continue the compliment. “I’ve watched you, you know. You’re really good.”

“Just really good?” he teased. You poked him in the stomach in retort.

“Yes, Jungkook, you’re really good. You’re the best for a reason.” Your face returned to a thoughtful look. “Are you nervous?”

Jungkook nodded. “Yeah, I am. I’m scared to disappoint anyone. My friends, my family, my coach…” he trailed off. “I guess I’m more scared of disappointing them than I am about losing.”

“You’re not scared of losing?”

“Not really, no.” He let his legs sway in the open air. “If it came down to it, I’d rather lose than disappoint them somehow. But the two seem to be tied together. I can’t lose without making them upset.”

“Do you love what you do?” The question was simple, but held such significance to Jungkook. He looked at you, amazed at the sincerity in your face and questions. God, he could kiss you right now.

“I used to,” he spoke after a beat of staring at your lips. “I liked it when I could do it how I wanted. When I could just surf for fun, and maybe for a prize here and there. But now, I’m expected to win. All the time. Never make your hobby into your job,” he sighed.

You let your hand rest on his thigh. “You can be in charge of your life, Jungkook,” you murmured. “You’re an adult. You can lose if you want to. You could quit all together. What anyone else wants for you isn’t as important as what you want for you.”

Jungkook let the idea roll in his mind. He stared at you, unused to talking so frankly and freely about his life and career and dreams, let alone with a girl he was attracted to.

“I want to kiss you,” he spoke, quiet and confident. Your eyes widened.

“You do?”

He nodded, not allowing any anxiety to roll through him or let him make an ass of himself again. “I do.”

Your heart was beating ten times too fast. It felt as if it might launch out of your chest cavity.

“Okay,” you breathed. “I want you to kiss me.”

Jungkook leaned forward and pressed his warm lips to yours. He tasted like the ocean, salty and earthy. He tasted like beer, bitter and sharp. He tasted like what you imagined was the essence of Jungkook, warm and sweet.

He let his hand rest on your cheek, thumb caressing your cheek as his fingers wound through your hair. He deepened the kiss, tongue swirling into the cavern of your mouth to seek purchase. He wanted you, all of you.

You sighed against his lips, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth as you returned the favor. You each made small, slight and tiny gasps. Jungkook pressed towards you, laying you down on the hard wood of the lifeguard deck as he continued kissing you, fingers combing through your hair.

“I’m sorry I was an ass,” he whispered. “I promise I’m not that big of an asshole, you just get me so flustered.”

You giggled against his lips, pulling him in for another deep caress of your tongue. “I forgive you, as long as you keep that promise.”

Jungkook moved his fingers towards your bikini top, dipping into your cleavage. “I almost passed out when I saw you in this,” he admitted, resting his forehead against yours.

You didn’t need to reply, as Jungkook began kissing the tops of your breasts, sucking gently on the skin of your cleavage. He was definitely leaving marks, and you hoped your work swimsuit would cover the evidence.

You moaned under his touch, sighing as he pulled the top down further to expose your hardened nipples. At the feel of his tongue on one nub, you jolted up, aware of your surroundings.

“Wait! Stop!” You gasped. Jungkook pulled away quickly, eyes boring into yours with confusion.

“What’s wrong?”

“Not out here!” You begged, dragging him into the interior of the lifeguard’s shack. It was measly, with a desk, a chair and a long padded bench, but it would have to work.

Jungkook’s concern melted away and a cocky smile spread across his lips.

“You wanna fuck at work, huh? Kinky.”

You kissed him hard again, ignoring his teasing comments. He quickly untied the top completely and threw it to the ground and allowed himself to revel in the feel of your naked breasts. He easily pressed you down to sit on the bench and stood before you.

“Okay, I know I was joking before about fucking at work, but this is actually really hot,” he groaned at the sight of you, tits out and lips puffy from his kissing.

He knelt in front of you and buried his face in your tits, licking and sucking at the sensitive skin.

You jerked and arched your back into him, allowing your head to bob back.

“Ohhhh, fuck,” you sighed as he tugged on a nipple harshly. “So good.”

Jungkook was encouraged and sucked harder, lifting his fingers to your other nub to twist and pinch and pull. The high whine that left your lips shot straight to his cock.

“Fuck, babe,” he breathed. “You’re so responsive.” He marveled at you, the way the moon shone on your naked body. His hand moved from your breast to your skirt and tugged the denim up.

He hissed at the sight of your bare pussy, no underwear in sight.

“Shit, fuck,” he took a steadying breath to ground himself. “That was so unexpected and so fucking hot.”

You blushed. “Panty lines,” you offered as a response.

“Fuck yeah, panty lines,” he wheezed, knowing his words made no sense and watched your cunt slick your thighs.

He let a finger drag up and down your slit, ripping a loud moan from your throat. Jungkook was about to finger you. Jungkook, the man you had been in love with for three summers was about to eat you out. This must be a dream, right?

“So pretty,” he cooed, eyes glued to your slippery cunt. “Wanna eat you up.”

“Please, yes, fuck,” you babbled. “Please Kook, I want you so bad.”

He smirked and leaned forward and pressed his tongue against your clit, one quick flick against the bud. He pulled back and savored the taste on his tongue. “Mmm, perfect.”

You cried at the loss of sensation, pussy clenching around nothing and nearly screaming in need for the surfer to please you. Your legs spread wantonly, tits out and skirt hiked up around your waist. It was filthy. You fucking loved it.

Jungkook easily slipped two fingers into your tight heat and dropped his jaw in a groan at the feel of your silky wet walls sucking his fingers. You keened your approval and gasped for more. He was staring at the way you took his fingers, hypnotized by the push and pull of your channel.

“Fuck, I could probably cum just from watching this,” he breathed. “I’ve never been so turned on by fingering someone before.”

Your breathing was heavy, panting harshly as you felt his long digits slowly fuck into you.

“Shit, Jungkook, please I’m aching,” you begged. “My clit, p-please.”

He nodded dutifully and lowered his mouth to suck at your clit. You tasted exquisite, like fine wine, and he was thirsty.

Electric pulses danced down your spine as you finally received what you needed, moaning his name encouragingly. You threaded your hands through his hair, gasping for air and squeaking in delight at every swirl of his tongue.

He fucked you harder with his fingers, establishing a quick pace.

“You look so fucking good,” he complimented. “Your pussy fucks my fingers so good. It’s going to feel fucking fantastic with my cock shoved in it.”

You nodded in agreement, eyes shut tight as your fingers tightened their hold on his shiny locks. “Jungkook, fuck! There, right there!! Shit!” You gasped, feeling the beginning torrent of your orgasm.

He obeyed, making out with your cunt and suckling at your clit as he slipped another finger inside you and fucked you fervently. Your body was like his last meal on earth and he would savor every last drop.

“Cum for me, babe. Fuck, I bet you look so fucking hot cumming on my fingers.”

His pumping fingers and punishing tongue speared you into an intense orgasm, cunt walls convulsing around him. You slapped a hand over your mouth to stifle the scream of pleasure as your body shook.

Jungkook had never felt more proud of anything in his life. He had fucked a lot of girls, but never any as responsive as you. You were addictive.

“Jesus,” he gasped, sliding his finger from your spent pussy, dripping in your release. “Suck.”

He pressed his fingers into your mouth and groaned as you sucked obediently, showing exactly what you would do to his cock were the fingers replaced in your mouth with it. His groan of approval told you he was looking forward to it.

“Jungkookkkkieee!” A drunk, female voice hollered out on the beach. You both shot up, attempting to fix yourself and throw your bikini back over your body.

Jungkook ducked out to see who was calling him. His eyes narrowed as he saw Jennie faltering in the sand, drunk.

“Fuck,” he murmured. “It’s Jennie.”

You frowned. “I thought she was with her ex…”

“Me too.”

“Jungkooookie! Where are you?! I’m ready to go home and get fucked like you promised meeeeeee!” She giggled as she fell into the sand, unaware of the couple in the lifeguard shack.

Your eyes narrowed to slits at the surfer. He winced, feeling as if they were daggers in him.

“Look, I didn’t say that-...”

“I get it now,” you snapped as you tied your top back around your neck.

“Listen! Wait!” He attempted to stop you and grab your hands, but you quickly wrenched them away and shoved him from you.

“Fuck you, Jungkook! I’m always the second choice, huh? Jennie fucks off with her ex so you look for your fallback plan.” Your words were dripping in malice, in regret.

“No! I promise! I didn’t tell her that! I haven’t fucked her except once like 2 months ago!” He begged for you to stay. “I don’t want her! I want you.”

“I can’t believe I’m this fucking stupid,” you shook your head and gathered your belongings and stormed out of the shack. He quickly followed behind you, begging you to let him explain himself. You ignored him valiantly, the tears now falling down your face.

“If you’d just fucking listen to me, I could explain-..”

You cut him off by turning towards him and jabbing angry fingers in his face.

“No, you fucking listen,” your voice was dark, and he tracked the tears falling from your face. “I’ve liked you for three fucking years now. I never thought I had a chance with you. And I was fine with that. But you fucking dangled it in front of me. You played me.” You bit your cheek, desperately wanting to slap his stupid, beautiful face, but held yourself back.

“Good luck at the tournament, Jungkook.”

And you turned, and you left, running quickly to find Tae to get home to cry.

—-

“Welcome to the 43rd Annual National Surfing Tournament!” The loudspeaker voice boomed through the beach. It felt like it echoed through your heart.

You sucked your teeth, thoroughly unimpressed with the fanfare.

You were stationed at a makeshift perch, close to the shore. You, along with Tae and Jimin, were the selected lifeguards for the event in case of emergency.

You fought your manager when you saw your name on the list for the event.

There was no way you could be on the same beach as Jeon Jungkook.

But there was no way out, Jimin and Tae just sent sad frowns to you and murmured compassionate encouragement.

So you stood at your position, sunglasses covering your eyes, as you watched the surfers line up at the shore. You avoided looking at the tall, black-haired one. You tried and failed.

He looked tired, nervous. He ran his hands through his hair anxiously and picked at spots on his board.

Whatever. You pushed away any thoughts of care towards the man.

He stole a glance at you, noticing you turn your face away the moment he looked up. He frowned, eyes back at the shore lapping at his feet.

Jungkook readied himself. Within moments, the siren rang, and he tore off towards the water, hopped on his board, and paddled towards the swells. He monitored the competing surfers, wanting to move far away from them to avoid a collision and snag a wave all for himself.

He swam right, leaving the pack of surfers in the center to move closer to the pier beams. It was risky, he could over correct a fall and slide right into a current that would slam him into the huge beams of wood. But the waves crashing there were perfect. Tubular, even.

He paddled harder, eager to get his first run in.

You narrowed your eyes as you watched him move towards the pier. What was he doing? That was a dangerous area, and a grip on your throat kept your eyes glued to the man.

He stared ahead, watched as the swell of the wave started, before turning around and paddling. He kept his eye behind him on the wave, moving to correct himself and hit the wave at just the right spot. He steadied his feet on the board and stood, thrusting his hips forward to propel the board on top of the now-crested wave. His smile lit up his entire body.

He did it; you cheered internally, before scolding yourself. Who cares, certainly not you.

Jungkook balanced and risked a run through the rolling wave. He timed it well enough he could make it before the tube filled with water. With a quick jut of his legs and his hip, he shoved his body and board through the tube, fingers dragging across the glassy surface.

God, he looked gorgeous. The wave encircled him, as if he were the god of the water.

You felt your throat jump high in your mouth.

The tube was closing quickly; the wave dying down. Getting caught in a rip curl was deadly, forcing the victims underwater for too long.

Jungkook pressed his body closer to the board, willing the aerodynamics to take him faster to the end of the tube.

You watched him, crying out loud to encourage him to hurry, as if he could hear you from your perch.

Within seconds, the wave crashed and dragged the surfer down with him.

Jungkook tumbled off the longboard, head cracking hard against the polyurethane surface. He groaned as water overtook him.

Fuck.

You acted on instinct. You threw the life preserver behind you and ran into the water. You waited for the incoming wave to pass overhead before resurfacing and swimming to him as fast as you could.

You were crying, you noticed, tears escaping your body as you swam harder than you had in your life. You could see him swirling in the water, and you panicked. How were you going to get him out? Without killing yourself in the process.

You squeezed your eyes tight and held yourself sturdy as the wave washed over you, ducking under the water to allow it to pass.

As it passed, you resurfaced and found Jungkook still in the water, not moving, with his surfboard still attached by the tether to his ankle. Fuck, was he unconscious?

You pressed towards him, forcing water out of the way to reach him as quickly as possible, knowing the possibility of him drowning while unconscious was high.

A sob left your lips as you reached the surfer and used all the strength in your body to heave his upper half onto the surfboard. He groaned. You breathed out the air you didn’t realize you were holding. He was alive, thank god.

“Jungkook! Are you okay?” you asked, pushing hair out of his face. Your eyes darted around his body. He was breathing, didn’t appear to have any broken body parts yet, but was bleeding profusely from his forehead, likely when he hit his board in the crash.

You held your hand against the wound, willing it to stop with the pressure. “It’s okay, Kook,” you murmured. “I’m here, it’s okay.” You didn’t know if the words were reassuring for him, or for you. Perhaps both.

The sound of a boat drew you from your attendance to his wound. The large Coast Guard speed boat pulled up beside you and threw in a rope ladder for you to climb on, while skilled men lifted the unconscious Jungkook and his board out of the water. You spotted Yoongi at the helm. You didn’t realize he was Coast Guard, and he rushed to you to hug you close. You sighed a breath of relief at the comfort, thankful you and Jungkook were both all right.

Harsh, choking coughs came from the ground and you pulled from Yoongi to see Jungkook spluttering water from his mouth. You cried at the sight of him awake, breathing, and fell to your knees beside him. The medics had placed gauze and a makeshift bandage on his forehead, protecting his wound and stifling the blood.

“You fucking asshole,” you chided as you delicately pulled the man into your arms. He easily wrapped his arms around you, still gasping for air, clinging to you like his last lifeline.

Jungkook sat in the worn room of the lifeguard shack, a towel wrapped around his shoulders, a blanket on his lap.

“You might be in shock,” you murmured, watching him from your knees on the floor.

“You know, when I pictured you on your knees for me, it wasn’t at a time when I almost died.” He tried to lighten the mood and watched your face pull a smile, before looking towards the floor again. You still hadn’t forgotten the night of the party. The heartbreak at feeling like his second choice, again.

“Sorry, that was stupid,” he chastised himself. “I meant to say thank you. Thank you for helping me. What I did was dumb and risky.”

You scooted closer to him and held his hand in yours. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I'm glad you’re all right. I’m sorry you didn’t win the tournament.”

He shrugged. “Honestly, I forgot about it,” he admitted. “It was so fun trying out that stupid move, I forgot I was competing.”

You couldn’t help but smile up at the surfer.

“You lost…” .

“Because I wanted to.” He smiled.

He knelt down to meet you on the floor, face impossibly close to yours.

“I’m so sorry, for everything. I was an asshole, even when I promised you I wouldn’t be. You’re not my second choice,” he whispered. “You’re my first choice. You saved me, not just from a large head wound,” he motioned to the wrapped bandage around his forehead with a wry smile. “You saved me from a life of trying to prove I’m not a disappointment and lose out on what I loved in life.”

Your eyes sparkled with tears. “I’m proud of you.”

“That’s all I needed to hear.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, kissing you as if you were the life preserver pulling him from the churning depths below the surface.

“Jungkook, I swear to god if you don’t let me suck your cock, I will explode,” you whined as you sat on your knees.

Jungkook grinned at you from the office chair of the lifeguard shack. He was still dripping wet from playing in the surf with Hoseok and Yoongi, wetsuit tight on his toned body.

“My, my. Who knew it took me wearing my wetsuit again for my girlfriend to turn into a cock slut? I just stopped by to say hi, and you’re on your knees for me.” He teased, unzipping the suit to his navel.

“You look so fucking good, I can’t help it,” you begged, hands reaching to help him unzip the rest. “And I know you’re naked under here.” The thought of his cock so near was mouthwatering.

He couldn’t help but sigh with pleasure as you pulled the zipper down all the way and released his thick length from its wet confines. “Mmm, you were right.” He smirked as you grasped his cock in your hands, gasping as you pressed a kiss to the tip.

You sucked his cock into your mouth, enveloping the entire length in your throat. He tasted like the ocean, so salty and pleasant. He tasted like Jungkook, warm and sweet.

You bobbed your head up and down his length, groaning at the feeling of his cock touching the back of your throat.

“Shit, babe, you’re so good,” he grunted, allowing his eyes to shut in pleasure.

You continued your journey, sucking and bobbing expertly and adding a fist to help jerk him to completion. He whined, already so close, and tapped your shoulder. “Gonna cum, baby.”

Your hand grasped at his balls, rubbing your hands down and over the sensitive sack, encouraging him to release down your throat.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck,” he gasped quickly. With a few drags of your tongue and throat, he was releasing his load into your mouth. You hummed with pleasure, allowing his cock to fall from your mouth with a pop, and swallowed the load down. You stuck your tongue out to show your clean mouth.

“Good girl,” he cooed. “Now, be a doll and let me fuck you over the desk,” he ordered as he slapped your swimsuit covered ass.

You squeaked and jumped into position, bending over the old desk and pushing your ass out towards him.

“Yes, daddy,” you teased.

He quirked an eyebrow. “That’s new.”

“Thought we’d try it out, daddy,” you emphasized with a wiggle of your ass.

“I don’t hate it,” he shrugged, tugging the strip of fabric that covered your cunt to the side.

“Hurry and fuck me, babe, my break is over in 20 minutes.”

He huffed. “I thought daddy gave the orders, baby,” he frowned.

“Sorry, daddy. Please fuck me, I only have 20 minutes.” Your eyes pleaded with him, giving him the puppy dog stare he couldn’t resist.

With one push, Jungkook was fully enveloped in your slick heat. He gasped at the familiar feeling of your cunt, one he would never ever get sick of.

“Fuck,” he whined.

You agreed with a moan and a jiggle of your hips, begging to start a rhythm.

Jungkook was weak and complied, quickly settling into quick thrusts. He knew he didn’t have much time to drag this out, so he was intent on getting you off as quickly as he could.

You arched your back, gasping at the feel of him filling you. Jungkook seemed to fit perfectly inside you, and you gawped at how quickly he could wring orgasms out of you with his cock.

“You like bending over the desk for me, hmm?” he questioned. “You’re so wet.”

You murmured a low response, straight from your throat. The tendrils of orgasm slowly worked their way around your stomach, threatening to explode as Jungkook nudged your cervix with each push.

“Shit, right there,” you cried, grasping for the edges of the desk to steel yourself.

Jungkook simply went harder, faster, angling himself at the angle you needed. Watching you fall apart under his hands surpassed any feeling. He loved bringing you to your knees.

“Yeah, fuck,” he grunted. “Cum on my cock.”

You threw your head back, moaning loudly at your boyfriend’s ability to disintegrate your core in minutes. It didn’t help that he had worked you up in his wetsuit, and sucking his cock had pleased you more than you thought possible. You were so close, so deliciously close.

“Oh, my god! Baby, I’m cumming, fuck!” You tried to muffle your cries, but Jungkook thrusted harder as your cunt fluttered and convulse around him. He keened at the feeling, swiftly bringing himself to an end inside you. He loved filling you up, seeing his cum slip down your thighs.

You panted hard, gazing back at the surfer standing behind you as he pulled his softening cock from your depths.

“I love you,” you smiled.

Jungkook lifted a cocky grin, hand still wrapped around his cock to stuff back into his wetsuit.

“And I love you.” He punctuated with a kiss on your back as he slipped your swimsuit back into place along your core.

Jungkook was like the ocean. Turbulent, unexpected. Salty and sweet. Relaxing and energetic. And you loved Jungkook just as you did the dark blue waves.

Jungkook loved the ocean, too. He loved spending hours surfing, playing in the water with you, napping on a towel in the sand, chasing you with seaweed, fucking you in the lifeguard tower. He loved everything about the beach and the shore.

But Jungkook’s most beloved aspect of the beach was you.

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