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swimmingismywholelife · 10 months

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The Only Reason

Summary: Even though your relationship with Christian has been rocky, neither of you are willing to go down without a fight.

Warnings: 18+, arguments, panic attack, a lot of crying, angst but a fluffy (if you can call it that I guess) ending, SMUT, some dirty talk, soft dom!Chris, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it and make sure you're not allergic to your wrap!), fingering, oral (f receiving), creampie, the smut is sweet tbh

WC: 4.4K

A/N: It's my birthday but this is a present for all of you! Inspired by "The Only Reason" by 5 Seconds of Summer. My first attempt at smut which lowkey I wasn't supposed to add but it fit anyway. This is a step considering I'm openly horny on main now so you might see more in the future 👀. I literally changed it 1274045923845 times but I'm happy with the way it turned out so I hope you guys think it's good-

"Even though my dizzy head is numb

I swear my heart is never giving up.

You're the reason

The only reason."

~~~

The front door slammed shut, indicating Christian was finally home from training. You sighed, praying this would blow over quickly so you could enjoy your dinner.

The past few weeks had been incredibly frustrating for the both of you. Chelsea had been on a losing streak with hardly any goals and Christian hardly got any play time. He was in the middle of trying to negotiate some sort of deal with the club, either to transfer or give him more playing time. Although it wasn't the option he preferred, it was likely he'd be transferred somewhere else soon, and with that contract talks had to be opened. He loved Chelsea, but the club didn't seem to return that love to him. It heavily weighed on Christian's mind, slowly draining him of the love he had for the sport, sending him deeper into a depressive and angry spiral causing him lash out on everyone.

On top of that, your own stresses had started building up. Your workload had tripled due to you being short staffed. Every time you thought you were done with a project, a modification was added or a brand new one was added to your list of things to do. You were working overtime almost every single day and you were close to ripping your hair out.

Between your work and Christian's training, you'd hardly seen each other over the past few months. He'd been extra short with you recently, something that was pretty unusual for Christian. You were typically the one who struggled to keep your anger in check, but these days it seemed your boyfriend could give you a run for your money. Most days you spent sleeping away from each other as opposed to being cuddled in each others arms. During the very brief moments you did end up spending time together, more often than not it resulted in some kind of an argument.

You both agreed earlier that morning that you were in desperate need of some kind of date night to ease your minds and to spend time together. You decided that a simple dinner would be sufficient enough. It was something small, you wouldn't have to go anywhere, and it was always one of your favorite date ideas since you'd gotten together. You were excited to finally spend time with your boyfriend even if it wasn't anything fancy.

But you knew by the way Christian slammed the door that he thought otherwise. He angrily threw his training bag to the side, grumbling to himself.

"Chris, it doesn't do you any good to pace angrily around the house," you sighed. "At least come eat and try to take your mind off things."

It seemed you only made him angrier.

"God, what don't you get?!" he snapped back. "Fucking food isn't gonna help the situation. Our team is shit, this situation is shit, everything is shit!"

You stood up from your place at the table, upset with Christian for yelling at you when you just wanted to help.

"I understand you're frustrated with everything, but don't take it out on me!" you yelled back. "All I'm trying to do is help you. I'm not a fucking emotional punching bag for you to take your shit out on Christian!"

He slammed his hands on the table, the sound echoing throughout the entire house. It startled you. Christian wasn't one to express his anger through violence like this.

"Why do I even keep fucking trying with you?! All you do is nag and nag and nag! You keep 'trying to help' but you're not!" he screamed back. "All you do is get in my face of 'oh Christian do this,' 'oh Christian try and do that.' Get out of my face for once I'm fucking tired of it!"

You were stunned. Your heart with each word Christian spat out at you. You loved him, but you knew you didn't deserve what he'd been giving you for the past few months.

"Fine. I'll 'get out of your face,'" you said calmly.

"Actually you know what? I'll do it myself. Being in here suffocates me," he said venomously, grabbing his keys and storming out the house.

You moved into the bedroom the two of you shared. What once felt like home to you felt like a prison suffocating you the longer you stood in it. And you just fell to your knees and cried.

You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment where it all started going wrong. You and Christian weren't perfect of course, but you just worked. You understood each other like no one else. You'd experienced things together that you'd never had with other people. You hadn't grown up with Christian in the past, but that didn't matter. He was your present and was going to be your future.

But that was then. Somewhere along the way, things changed. Nowadays he barely made time for you. He was gone before you woke up and you were asleep before he came home. Date nights were nonexistent, special occasions stopped being special. You couldn't keep begging for his attention, wondering if this time would be enough to keep it.

You didn't want things to end. That was absolutely the last thing you wanted to do. You loved Christian with everything you had. But you were the only one trying and you both knew that. Somewhere Christian just fell out of love with you while you were desperately trying to grasp onto something. But it was no use. He was gone a long time ago.

Christian was in the middle of figuring out the trajectory of his career, unsure if he was to wait out his contract with Chelsea for the next season or leave for a club that truly appreciated him. And pretty soon, he would be flying back to the States for international break. The last thing you wanted to do was add onto the stress Christian was feeling.

But how long would you have to keep sacrificing your own happiness for the sake of his?

Christian didn't come home that night, nor the night after that, nor the night after that. Not that you really expected him to. He hadn't been home all that much anyway, and even while he was there physically, he wasn't there. So sleeping alone in your bed wasn't that much of a foreign feeling anymore anyway. And the longer he was away, the foggier your mind became. The answer was right there in front of you. This was Christian blatantly telling you how he felt about your relationship. Right?

It wasn't until about a week later that Christian had contacted you, letting you know he'd be coming back that night. You mentally prepared yourself for the worst.

The door opened, causing you to snap out of your thoughts. You could hear the clattering of the keys being placed on the table and footsteps heading up the stairs.

The lights flickered in your bedroom. Your eyes met his, startling him.

"Oh hey, I didn't realize you'd still be up," Christian said surprised, removing his jacket and placing it on a chair.

"We need to talk Christian," you said, trying to prevent your voice from wavering.

"We'll talk in the morning, Y/N. It's kind of late and I don't want another fight right now," he responded.

"I'm serious Christian," you answered, feeling your heart breaking already. "And I don't think this can wait until morning."

"Why do you keep using my full name?" Christian asked uncomfortably. "You only use it like this when something's really wrong."

You didn't answer. Instead you got up from your place on the bed and hugged his waist, completely breaking down. You felt like you couldn't breathe through all the tears and the pain you felt. Your body gave out as you fell to the ground, taking Christian with you.

For a second time that night, Christian was surprised. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, kissing your head.

"Hey, hey, baby what's wrong? What's going on?" he asked.

You couldn't get the words out. You only cried harder as he led you back to your bed. You took in this moment with him, not knowing if this was the last night you would sharing with him. You tried to memorize the scent of his favorite cologne, how perfectly you fit into his arms, the way his kisses felt. You wanted to remember how safe you felt with Christian and how your heart longed for him to come home to you.

"It's okay, baby, it's okay. I'm right here. I won't ever let anything hurt you," he said, trying to soothe you.

Little did he realize he was the reason you were hurting so much.

You held Christian close to you as the weight of your decision started to kick in. You wanted nothing more in this world than to be with Christian. He meant everything to you. You wanted it all with him. You wanted to marry him one day, carry his children, grow old together. You wanted to wear his last name to every game he played, to support him as he reached all his dreams. You could have nothing but Christian and you would be perfectly content.

Your mother had told you growing up that every scenario that came your way had three answers: yes, no, or wait. And you so desperately wanted to believe Christian was your sign that being patient was worth it. That waiting would be worth it. That one day it would bring you the happiness you craved and you deserved.

But how long were you supposed to wait? How long had you waited for him to fulfill his promises? How long had you been patient with him? How long had you stayed loyal every time he'd taken his anger out on you? How long had you been contemplating if you were worth saving? Was this just patience or were you holding onto something that you should've let go of a long time ago?

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier baby," he said, stroking your hair trying to soothe you. "I didn't mean it. I love you so much. I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry."

You couldn't get words out. You needed just one last night to call yourself his before you could make your final decision.

"Just hold me please," you sobbed out, gripping his body as hard as you could.

"I'll do whatever you need baby. I'm right here. I'll always be right here."

Christian was scared. He didn't fully understand what was going on or why you were crying the way you were. But he knew something was off and something was wrong. So he just held you as you let out all the emotions you'd been feeling for weeks.

Christian knew it was more serious than he initially thought when you kept crying for over an hour. He didn't realize how absent he'd been from your life until then. How long had you been feeling such emotional turmoil? What else had he missed? Why were you crying this hard for so long?

Truthfully, he was afraid to find out. As shitty of a boyfriend he'd been over the past few weeks, Christian loved you with every fiber of his being. The last thing he wanted to do was lose you, the relationship you'd built up for years together.

But he knew the likelihood of a break up was probably looming in your mind. Was this it? Was this a sign that something was coming to an end? He didn't want to know. He knew you two needed to talk, especially after the way he walked out. But he was afraid of the outcome.

So he just held you close to him, praying this wouldn't be the last time he got to feel you like this. He took in your scent, trying to memorize the way you felt in his arms. He left kisses on your forehead, shoulders, and cheeks, wiping the tears away as he went.

You eventually calmed down, your grip on Christian never loosening.

"Christian I-" you gasped out.

"It's okay baby, take your time. You don't have to rush anything you don't want to," he whispered gently, kissing your forehead again.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly.

"Baby, you have nothing to be sorry about," he said. "If anything, I should be the one who's sorry. I've been such a horrible boyfriend. I shouldn't have said what I said, I shouldn't have done what I did."

"Christian…" you trailed.

"Shh, it's okay baby. It's okay. We don't have to talk about this right now. We can talk about this in the morning. Just let me hold you right now. Everything is going to be okay," he said softly.

"Chris I'm scared," you whispered.

His heart broke a little knowing you were scared of what morning would entail.

"I'm scared too baby. I'm so fucking scared," he admitted. "But we'll talk about this when it comes okay? Just be here with me now. Nothing else is going to hurt you tonight I promise."

The two of you were laying on your side facing each other. Your head was tucked into his chest, tears flowing every so often. Christian never once let go, not even when his arms started going numb. You were afraid to close your eyes, scared that Christian would be gone the moment you opened them.

Your body stopped shaking and you eventually stopped crying during the early morning hours. You were quiet. And if he didn't know you well, Christian would've believed you were asleep.

But he knew better. He knew that you couldn't sleep because neither could he. Just two souls barely hanging on by a thread not knowing how to fix it.

Did you want to fix things? Or were things so far gone there was nothing you could do anymore? Was this still worth it? Was a future still possible? Would love be enough to save this?

You were set on breaking up with him the night before. You were so sure that's what you wanted. But under the moonlight that peaked through your window, you didn't know what to do anymore. Your head was dizzy with thoughts and you couldn't think clearly anymore.

"Christian?" you called out quietly.

"Yeah?"

"What are we doing?"

His body tensed at the question. He was quiet at first, not wanting to say the wrong thing. He knew this was it. His answer would either make or break your relationship.

"I don't know baby," he answered honestly.

You nestled your head further into his chest.

"I don't want to keep doing this. Guessing if you still want us. You're either in or you're out Chris. I don't want to keep playing your games."

Christian had to stop himself from letting out a sob and took a deep breath. You didn't trust him or his words anymore. And realizing that absolutely broke his heart.

"Can you look at me Y/N?" he asked.

You hesitated for a moment before lifting your head. Christian cupped your cheek with his hand, gently rubbing his thumb back and forth. He rested his forehead on yours.

"You don't have to say anything okay? Just hear me out. I know I've been a shitty boyfriend. I know I haven't been there for you. I haven't treated you well. I've lashed out on you when you've done nothing but love and support me. Through all the shit the world's thrown at me this season, you've been everything I need and more. And I haven't appreciated that. And you deserve so much more than what I've been giving you."

Christian stopped for a moment, taking the opportunity to look at you. How could he have hurt you so bad? How could he let everything slip between his fingers?

"I'm sorry for everything I've put you through. I'm sorry that you've lost trust in my words. You always tell me that my words, my actions, and my intentions need to line up and they haven't been and I'm so sorry for that. I'm sorry I've broken so many promises. And most of all, I'm sorry that you're hurting and I'm the cause of it when I told you I'd never let anyone hurt you. I failed to see what was right in front of me and I've taken you for granted and I'm so sorry."

A tear fell from your eye, quickly caught by Christian's thumb.

"I don't deserve you. I really don't. You know that and I know that better than anyone."

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead further into yours.

"But please don't give up on us. I know you can't trust my words right now, but I swear to you I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I can't let you go. Not now and not ever. No more games. No more confusion. No more trying to guess where my head and where my heart stand with you. Right here, right now, forever and always I'm with you. My head is with you. My heart is with you. All of me is with you. And I promise I'll prove it every day for as long as I live. So please. Give me one last chance to be with you."

You didn't know what to say. You didn't know what you wanted anymore. How could you trust him? He was saying all the right words, but did he really mean it? Were they more empty words?

Yes, no, or wait. Just like your mother said. But you'd waited so long that it seemed almost futile. Had you been wasting your time? Or was this what you were meant to do?

And though your head was fighting with itself, dizzy and numb from the constant questions running around, you knew where your heart lied. So you did the only thing you felt could portray how you felt enough to give him and answer.

You lifted your chin and kissed him deeply, wrapping your arms around his neck. His grip on your cheek was firm, bringing you as close as you could physically get. The tears wouldn't stop flowing from either of your faces, but none of that mattered. What mattered was here and now.

Yes, no, or wait. And you finally got your answer.

He kissed you like you were the oxygen he needed to breathe. And truthfully, he needed you to breathe.

You pulled back ever so slightly, just enough for you to be able to talk.

"You get one chance at this Chris. Only one," you said breathlessly. "Don't waste it."

His lips were back on yours in response, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip. You let out a soft moan as he pushed you onto your back, settling himself in between your legs. He pulled back keeping his forehead to yours breathing heavily.

"I love you Y/N. I love you so much you don't even know," he said. "I won't waste it. Not ever again."

You grabbed his shirt and pulled him back to your lips, needing to feel him closer. Your hands traveled underneath his shirt, nails scratching his skin lightly as they roamed his chest.

Christian pulled back from you for a moment to rip his shirt off before attaching his lips back to yours, giving you more access to him. You couldn't keep your hands off each other, your legs wrapping around his hips to bring you even closer to him.

"Chris," you whispered. "I need-"

"I know baby," he answered. "I know. Let me take care of you."

You whimpered beneath him as his lips moved to your neck, leaving a trail of marks as he gave you sloppy but gentle kisses. He bit down on the spot just below your ear, causing you to let out a loud moan.

"Does that feel good baby?" he whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine that resonated throughout your whole body.

"God yes Chris it feels so good please," you begged beneath him.

His hands grabbed the bottom of your shirt, bringing it over your head and pressing his chest against yours as he kissed your lips gently.

"So fucking beautiful. And all mine," he said to himself.

His lips returned to your neck, this time the trail leading to your breasts. You gasped as you felt his tongue along your nipple, pressing yourself further into his mouth. You only squirmed more as he moved to your other side, your fingers tangled in his hair tugging lightly. He kissed down your torso until he reached the band of your shorts.

"May I?" he asked softly.

You nodded your head frantically.

"Words baby." His fingers hooked into them, toying with the fabric. "You know the drill. I can't give you what you want unless you tell me."

"Yes please," you whined, wiggling your hips in the hopes of getting the clothing off you faster.

"Please what Y/N?"

"Please take them off Chris please. I wanna feel you on my pussy please, please, please."

"Good girl."

He slowly slid your shorts down, taking a little too long for your liking. He kissed down your stomach, loving how you were falling apart beneath him.

His fingers rubbed over the dark spot of your underwear. You gasped, hands grabbing the sheets tightly. He moved his fingers almost in a trance watching as the patch grew darker and larger.

"You're so fucking wet baby. You like it when I touch you like this?" he chuckled.

"Yes I love feeling you play with my pussy!" you moaned, grinding your hips against his fingers.

Christian pulled your underwear to the side. You shivered in anticipation as you felt Christian's breath on your lips.

"Can I taste you?" he asked, running his fingers through your folds.

"God yes! Please let me feel your tongue," you begged, lacing your fingers through his hair to bring him closer.

"As you wish princess."

Your back arched the moment his tongue made contact with you. He licked from the bottom all the way to your clit, lightly sucking on it. You moaned tugging at his curls. The louder you moaned, the faster he went alternating between licking and sucking. Your thighs closed around his head as you pushed him closer to you.

You were so lost in the pleasure that you were surprised when Christian inserted two of his fingers into your folds. You moaned even louder at the intrusion.

"God Christian more please. Please I need more!"

You were begging, but you didn't even know what you were begging for. You just wanted him to keep going.

Christian was enjoying every second of this. He loved watching you fall apart beneath him.

"You need more baby? So greedy. My tongue sucking on your clit and my fingers deep inside your pussy. What else could you want?" he teased, picking up the speed as he fucked you with his fingers.

You couldn't form any proper sentences anymore. Incoherent noises left your mouth as your body started shaking uncontrollably, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"Damn baby you're shaking. Are you close already? I've barely even done anything," he mused, inserting a third finger and fucking you even faster.

"God I'm so fucking close please let me cum! Please please please I need to cum please Christian please!" you all but screamed.

"Shh, it's okay. You can cum baby. Let it go for me," he said softly.

Your vision went blank as you came, your hands grasping at Christian's curls to anchor you to reality. Your legs shook violently as Christian continued coaxing your climax out of you, only slowing down as your body started spasming with overstimulation.

"Christian I need more," you whined, gasping for air.

"I know baby, I know. I'll take good care of you," he said. "I'm right here okay?"

Christian kissed your lips gently, making your heart flutter. He softly caressed your face admiring how you glowed under the moonlight. You melted under his gaze holding him close to you.

"You okay?" he asked.

You nodded, giving him the go ahead. He moved back just enough to remove his bottoms before taking his place between your legs again. He placed both of his hands gently on your cheeks, resting his forehead against yours. He looked deep into your eyes as his thrusted his hips into yours. You gasped into his mouth as he picked up the speed, grinding slow but deep.

"I love you Christian," you moaned breathlessly.

"I love you Y/N," he responded. "I love you so much. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me and I'm sorry I made you feel otherwise. And I'll spend the rest of my life proving my worth to you."

The room was quiet except for the skin slapping against each other and the soft gasps you let out. You grabbed Christian's neck, bringing him as close as you possibly could. You needed him in every sense of the word, wanting to feel every inch of his skin on yours. He was yours and you were his. Your bodies intertwined in the same way your souls had all those years ago and that was all you really needed.

"Chris I need-" you were cut off with a particularly deep thrust making you moan, tugging at the curls on the nape of Christian's neck.

"I'm close too baby. Cum with me. Become one with me Y/N."

You had one of the strongest orgasms you'd ever had in your life. Your chest pressed into his as his cum filled you up, clenching your pussy around him. You held each other tightly, afraid to lose one another as space came between you.

The both of you laid there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of being so intimate. You gasped into each others mouths as your heartrates began to slow down ever so slightly.

"God you're so beautiful. The most beautiful woman I've ever seen," Christian said in awe of you.

You flushed beneath him becoming shy.

"Babe you just came all over my dick. You really shouldn't be that shy," he said cheekily. You scoffed and hit his chest slightly.

"You're actually ridiculous," you said lovingly, pressing your lips to his for a quick kiss.

He pecked you once more before pulling out of you. He got up, grabbing a towel and gently cleaning your body. He left kisses as he went, worshipping your body. Once he was done, he laid on his back bringing your head onto his chest. He kissed the top of your head as you tucked yourself beneath his arm.

"Are we okay Christian?" you asked meekly.

"Yeah baby. We're okay. We're gonna be okay."

Taglist: @pulisicsgirl @chelseagirl98 @thoseboysinblue @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @masonspulisic @notsoattractivearenti @lovelynikol16 @bracedes @mortirolo @nyctophilic0vitnir

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic angst #christian pulisic smut #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic fic #swimmingismywholelife

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clearlydiamondz · 6 months

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Nesting

(Y/N) is at the point in her pregnancy where she is now nesting. Erik is confused, but he's going with the flow.

_________________________

Erik sat at his desk, playing with some of his friends streaming the new Call of Duty game. Being a successful streamer with millions of fans, he now had a life where he could live comfortably and still do what he loved, which was playing games.

Being a gamer is actually how he met the love of his life, (Y/N). Meeting on a discord back in high school, the two of them hit it off. There was only one thing that prevented them from being physically together. He lived in Oakland, and she lived in Miami. Her parents thought she was silly to find love over the internet, calling it a weird phase while his friends thought she was made up.

That was until she surprised him at his high school graduation. Saving for months, working as a moderator and at Chick-fil-A, she was able to save enough money to meet him. With the supervision of her parents of course.

Now here they are, 10 years later married and expecting twins. Two boys and she was over the moon about it. If they were over the moon, Erik was over the planet Jupiter. All of the outfits, baby supplies, and decorations were bought on Erik's behalf. Every time he walked into a store, he always walked out with something for the babies.

She could show him something that she thought was cute for their nursery and within days, it was ordered.

He was always clingy with her, and she loved it. Ever since she was pregnant, it was like he was at her side every second of the day. They were lucky enough to be streamers so they could have that time together, but boy he was obsessed.

His camera roll was filled with pictures of her, showing the journey from when she first found out she was pregnant to the development of the baby bump.

"Damn, why are you so bad, move!" he yelled into the headset.

"Nigga fuck you!" Quan yelled back into the mike making everyone bust out laughing.

"Awe you mad." Chelsea teased him. Eventually, they ended up winning, as they sat on the loading screen talking shit with each other.

That's when Erik heard a bang in the room next door, which just so happened to be the twins' nursery.

"Hold on y'all." he stepped away from his gaming set, walking in to see the baby clothes everywhere and his wife in the middle of the room folding them and placing them in the drawers.

"Mama, what are you doing?" he asked her. She turned to look at him with a pout.

"Baby there is so much to do and we only have a week left until they are due and I can't even-" she was crying at this point, Erik realizing that it was probably her hormones.

"Shh, it's okay. You know I'll help you with anything you need. The doctor wants you to not be on your feet as much." Erik was a little confused by the sudden rush to want to do stuff. Just last night she was in the middle of the kitchen reorganizing the kitchen drawers and the cupboards making room for the twins' bottles. She literally took everything apart.

Or how she decided to wash every piece of clothing and blanket for the babies, even though everything was brand new.

What he said made her cry even harder. "I appreciate you so much baby, y-you are just so good to us and-" she cut herself up hiccuping.

"Here about you go sit in the living room, play a movie and I'll order you some of the spicy ramen you like from the restaurant downtown," he told her helping her stand up.

"Ooh yes. You know the spicy foods can induce labor," she said matter-of-factly. He chuckled at the random fact before saying,

"Once I'm done for the stream tonight, I'll organize their room for you. I don't want you putting any unnecessary stress on yourself." he told her, she pouted before saying,

"You'd really do that?" she whispered as her eyes started to water again.

"Yes, now go relax. I'ma place the order now okay?" he kissed her on the forehead, then on the lips, then on her stomach. He watched his wife walk, well more like waddle, out of the room to make herself comfortable downstairs in the living room. He came back to the station, not before ordering him and his wife some ramen.

"Alright y'all, I'm back. (Y/N) needed help with something." he said getting his player ready for the next round.

"How yo ole woman doin? She should be about ready to pop any moment now right?" Damien, one of his other close friends said.

"Yeah, next week will be the due date," Erik said with a smile. The chat was filled with congratulations from his supporters.

"Awe. Look at you all gushy and shit. Can't believe Stevens gonna be a daddy." Quan teased him as he rolled his eyes laughing. He was about to say something but he heard his wife scream out for him.

"E!" she yelled.

"Hold that thought y'all." he got up and ran downstairs to see his wife downstairs with four big boxes.

"Can you move two to the living room and the other two upstairs for me baby? I'ma get their swings set up. " she said sitting there with a smile on her face.

"What are these?" he asked looking at the boxes.

"The swings," she said still smiling.

"So you bought four of them?" he asked her as she sighed.

"No, two of them we got free with the sponsorship. The other two I did buy so we can have a setup and downstairs. Because apparently, the only bad review is that they are really heavy." she said matter-of-factly. "I'm kinda hungry can we order something?" she said rubbing her stomach.

Pregnancy brain.

"Mama, I told you I was ordering some of the ramen." she looked at him confused before realizing.

"Ugh, I forgot. I'm so slow," she said, face palming herself. "I keep forgetting stuff," she said, her eyes watering.

"No no no, it's okay baby. I know you don't mean to, I'll remember everything for you. Even if it's your social security number." he joked making her laugh.

"Please, I remember my social security number. 832-21-" she paused forgetting the last four. "Oh my god, I can't even remember my last four digits." she panicked. Erik cussed himself knowing he just made it worse. "I can't even remember my social security number. How am I expected to take care of two babies!"

"It's 9382. Don't worry my love. You will be okay, I promise." he grabbed her by the face, kissing her lips as she sighed. "I want you to relax, I'll take care of everything. I promise." he whispered. She nodded before waddling into the living room. After taking two of the boxes upstairs, he came back.

"Sorry, (Y/N) needed me again." he sighed. "For a pregnant lady, this girl is a freaking busybody. She is supposed to be on bed rest." he stated.

"Where is she going?" Chelsea asked.

"It's not where she's going. It's what she's doing. She can't sit down for the sake of her. I woke up last night to her re-organizing the twin's closet. For the third time. It was like two in the morning." he stated.

"That's wild." Damien chuckled.

"Huh," Chelsea said, coming to the realization of something. "What else?"

"She reorganized the cabinets in the kitchen, washed all of the baby stuff even though it's new, and been on a cleaning frenzy for like three days straight," he said.

"You sure she ain't got OCD?" Quan chuckled.

"She doesn't. Actually she's pretty messy but for the last week, it's like she needs everything to be cleaned." Erik replied.

"Erik, it sounds like she's nesting." Chelsea chuckled.

"The hell is that? She ain't no pigeon." Quan replied, making Erik chuckle.

"No you fucking dumbass." Chelsea rolled her eyes. "It's a natural instinct for mothers to want to get their home ready for the baby. It happens with humans and animals. That's why it is called nesting."

"I ain't gonna lie, that's kinda adorable," Damien stated.

Erik's interest peaked, he minimized the game window and opened Google to look at it. "Alright chat, let's learn some new shit," he said clicking the first link.

"So it says that they have an overwhelming desire to organize, clean, and prep for the baby's arrival. That makes a lot of sense." he chuckled.

"Yeah, it's a natural instinct. It's like an itch, she won't be able to stop until the twins are here." Chelsea told him. "It makes sense because she's due next week. When my sister was nesting, my mama told me that it was a sign that babies were about to come. So she might be going into labor within a couple of days. Just gotta roll with it man" Chelsea chuckled.

After the stream was done, he found himself downstairs, seeing her prepping the swings before looking at him.

"Oh, I was just getting the stuff prepared for you. I know-"

"It's okay. I know you can't help but get your hands dirty." he chuckled kissing her on the cheek. She looked at him confused.

"What's with the change of heart?" she asked in confusion.

"You're nesting." he expected her to know what it was, but the look still stayed on her face.

"I'm not a freaking bald eagle, the hell is nesting?" she asked as he chuckled.

"You have this urge to clean up, organize, do a bunch of stuff hands-on. It's called nesting. A sign that Thing 1 and Thing 2 are coming." he said rubbing her stomach. She thought about it.

"Makes sense. I have had this urge to reorganize the pantry also.."

________________

@life-in-the-slut-house @gloglamsparks @niahsa @hippieonboard @nanii2x @ejs398 @royaler1999 @luvvvjada @sourbabynaee @tthatkidmimi @kanilive @christinabae @nccu-rnc @youcanttouchthis1001 @jordyn-wkndafvr @ts1mp0ne @meeeeep5 @ravynnn-12 @metra873 @determinednot2fall @trippyscotch @thiswasnevermylifefromtony @itsophiebby @princessmel-1995 @blkmystery @xsweetdellzx @ziirowe @cozyashhh @luvvvjada @reneinii @ts1mp0ne @kaireads2020 @blmcd57110 @ziayamikaelson @babbtdollaaassignn @forevermoremagcon @ajenae @etherealluvrr @lynaye1993 @mscarter213 @automaticdragonmugalien @bethy-baby @softleosworld @meekmillsfrenchfries @hinatasfleshlight @kokokonakon @sociallyawkward18 @raysunshine78 @justgetitoverwith0 @lishabaybeee-blog @rbhp @ladymac @musicisme333

#erik stevens #erik kilmonger x reader #killmonger fanfiction #erik killmonger #erik stevens x reader #killmonger x reader #wakanda #wakanda forever

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

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Im crying, screaming, throwing up. Leah, you’re putting your whole ass pussy into these updates. I can’t wait for the next update.

Bro. The way I literally spent six hours writing this yesterday. Six! I couldn’t stop. I just had to get it out. Anyway, as always—here’s the Terms Of Endearment Masterlist

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Dot was a smart little girl. She knows when things aren't right. She knows when Bob pulls up in a driveway that isn't Jakes that something is wrong. With her little heart already broken enough from her traumatic pick up from daycare, but when she sees a woman standing out on the front veranda that isn't you, her bottom lip quivers. Where were you?

“Where's Mamma?” Dot asked as she came to from her nap in her booster seat, Bob felt his heart break inside his chest because how do you tell a two year old that their mother is in the hospital?

“Mama’s gonna be back soon Dotty.” God Bob couldn't handle all this, he had no idea how you did it for so long without crying out for help. “Thanks for taking her on such short notice.” Bob is far too rattled for Chelsea Fitch to be comfortable with. “Jakes probably harassing the emergency department staff as we speak trying to get answers and Rooster was already there so–”

“She's more than welcome for as long as needed.” Chelsea makes her way down the drive to where Bob is fishing Dot out of her booster seat. “She looks so upset–” Chelsea sighs. “Hi darling girl, it's okay baby come here.” With one swift motion, Bob was picking up the little girl everyone had gathered around to protect and handing her over to Reubans wife. Dot immediately snuggled into her shoulder, she's so tired and emotionally exhausted. There's only so much a two year old can take before they begin to shut down. “You know much about how she's doing?”

“Nope, Jake fainted in the parking lot when he was on the phone with Rooster.” Bob relayed all that he knew as he unclipped the booster seats from the back of Penny's car to leave at the Finch household. “I didn't get a chance to ask much when I picked up the phone, just told Rooster we’d get there as soon as possible.”

“And by we you mean Amilia–” Bob just smiled, he caught the tone Chelsea used as she held Dot on her hip. Standing in the driveway as Chase clung to her leg. Bob Floyd loved the fact he wasn't the only one with a sibling he wasn't overly attached to.

“Yes ma’am–”

“Don't ma’am me Bob, I work for a living.” Bob couldn't keep his head from spinning on top of his shoulders if he tried. He couldn't keep up with the sharp wit and dry humour of the Australians he was suddenly in close vicinity to.

“Sorry, sorry–force of habit.” Bob knew he should probably head over to Jakes and get some essentials sorted. It hadn't necessarily been a task bestowed upon him verbally, but Bob knew that he should, to do what he could within his means. “I'm gonna head off, I'll swing by Jakes and get some of Dot's things, stop by, then head over to the hospital.”

“Can you tell my sister that for someone who's been in the states for less than three days on a soul searching quest or whatever bullshit she's on, she sure has a knack for finding trouble.” Chelsea chuckled as Bob just pressed his lips together in a thin line and nodded silently. “Come on bub’s let's get you two inside.”

“Thanks again Chels–” Bob thanked Chelsea just one more time before he was heading off, leaving Odette Dolan in the Fitch’s capable hands while everything else seemed to fall through the cracks.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“You feeling alright?” Amilia asked as she drove Jake in silence to the hospital. There wasn’t any music playing through the speakers this time. Just pure silence filled the cab of her sister’s Sante Fe.

“I’m sorry you got caught up in all this.” Jake swerved the question Amilia had asked as he turned to take in Amilias profile. Fuck she was real pretty. “It was incredibly unfair of me to ask you to get involved.”

“Your niece is a real cutie.” Amilia, still focusing on the road ahead, smiled as she flicked on her indicator, turning into the Miramar Base Hospital. “I don’t think I would’ve been able to live with myself if I didn’t do something.”

“Yeah—“ Jake sighed, letting his head fall back against the headrest. “It definitely feels like that.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, how long have your sister and her ex been separated?” Jake just looked at Amilia, who for a split second turned her head to look back at Jake. “I don’t mean to pry.” Jake took notice to the way Amilias voice sounded softer in her regret to ask. “And by all means man you don’t have to tell me shit—just tell me to shut up and my lips are sealed.” Jake couldn’t handle the way Amilia turned her head back to the road ahead, she was so genuinely concerned about what was going on to people she’d never met before. “I shouldn’t have asked, I’m sorry—it’s too personal.”

“No, no you're good.” Jake cleared his throat, thinking about how to explain your circumstances. “Emotionally I’d say ever since the first time he laid his hands on her.” Jake remarked, balling his fist at the thought as he clenched his jaw. “But uh, she ran out on him a few months back, turned up on my doorstep beaten half to death with enough alcohol in her system that I would have believed her if she said she identified as a distillery.” Jake chuckled, it hurt to make peace with the fact this had been your life, your rock bottom. “I promised her if she stayed here then she’d be safe, that I wouldn’t let anyone hurt her yet here we are—“ Jake finally turned his head back to where Amilia sat in the driver's seat, looking for a park. “I don't know how to keep her safe.”

Amilia didn’t respond straight away, the air was too heavy around her, she could feel the weight of Jake's world on her shoulders. No one deserved to feel that kind of guilt. It wasn’t his fault, what that Jaidyn guy had done wasn’t a reflection on Jake. He was only one person, how much could he honestly do?

“The next dude that tries to kiss my fucking foreheads gonna cop a head-butt instead so we both end up hurt and confused.” Jake couldn’t help but to laugh softly as he looked at Amilia, this crazy, random woman he’d met that same morning felt like an extension of himself. Amilia had kissed him in the parking lot of his niece's day care not half an hour ago. Why had he not ended up copping a headbutt. He surely had a headache, but that was from smacking his head on the ground when he lost all control.

“Can’t say that doesn’t sound like a good strategy—“ There’s a few moments of silence as Amilia gives up circling the full car park and just decides it’s probably best to drop Jake off at the emergency department. She hits the curb slightly and Jake cringes at the thought of the gutter rash her rims were gonna end up with. “Jesus—“

“Sorry.” It’s not hard to notice the embarrassment laced in Amilias tone as she puts the car in park. “I’m still getting used to the whole left side steering and right side roadway.”

“How long have you been in the states for?” Jake asks, he’s reluctant to get out of the car because he knows the second he does he’s gonna lose his mind. Amilia Fisher seemed to keep Jake level headed. He needed that in all this, a guiding light. A lighthouse.

“Considering I’ve lost track of what day it is from the jet lag and copious amounts of caffeine I’ve been pumping I’d guest about three days, give or take a few hours.”

“Three days and you're slashing people’s tyres!?” Jake genuinely laughs for the first time all day. He feels the butterflies in his stomach take flight when Amilia matches his energy and laughs with him, nodding.

“I didn’t know what else to do!?” As the laughter drifted off into nothing, Amilia let herself settle into the back of her car seat. “You should probably get out now.”

“I don’t think I can go in there.” Jake held back tears, he wasn’t ready to accept he’d let you down. “Can’t see her like that.” He wasn’t ready to face you. “I fucked up, I can’t—“

“Hey, listen.” Amilia cooed as Jake tried his best to hold himself together, he was falling apart at the seams. “Just breathe.” A gentle hand with manicured nails that make Jake's skin rise with goosebumps reaches out to cup his cheek. “She really needs you, but it’s okay to feel like you don’t have your shit together.”

“You got anywhere to be?” Jake asked, it was his way of asking Amilia to stay. She just shook her head, she knew what he meant.

“Been the longest fucking day ever and I could really use a beer, but I got absolutely nowhere else to be.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Bradley hated hospitals. He’d never been one to associate hospitals with good memories. It’s where he’d gone with his mum when he’d found out he’d died in a training accident and It was where he said goodbye to his mum one last time before she left to be with her best friend again.

Now, as he sat in the waiting room tapping his foot on the ground impatiently waiting for someone, anyone to give him an update on how you were—he couldn’t help his mind from wondering. What if you were about to join the ever growing list of people Bradley Bradshaw had lost in his life?

“Bradshaw!” Jake bellowed out as he came barreling through the front doors of the emergency department, Amilia in toe. “Where is she?” Rooster stood to meet Jake in an embrace that put all others to shame. Brother in arms. Jake wraps his arms around Bradley as Bradley took him in tight. Both silently silencing their painful sobs in each other's embrace. “Where is she?”

“In surgery I think?” Rooster explained. “They wouldn’t tell me much because I still haven’t handed back the paperwork they asked me to fill out on her behalf.” It’s when Jake steps back that Bradley sees Amilia standing there. She’s a little on the short side, and by a little he means a lot. Respectfully Jake and Bradley tower over her. It wouldn’t be hard to lose her in a crowd. Amilia Fisher was definitely someone you’d tie a helium balloon to just to keep an eye on her.

“Who’s this?” Bradley asks, he thinks he knows. She looks a little familiar. Jake just steps aside, allowing Amilia to outstretch her hand to shake Bradley’s. “God You look like someone I know—“

“Uh, Chelsea Fitch is my sister, you both apparently work with my brother in law.” It all clicks in Rooster's mind when he hears the mention of Payback's wife. “Amilia, Amilia Fisher.”

“You’re the one who took the video this morning?” Bradley smirks, he can see the look on Jake’s face clear as day. The guys hooked.

“That’s me.” Amilia confirms, Jakes just crossing his arms across his chest as Rooster sends him an all knowing look. He’d fallen in love at first sight with you, what was so hard to believe about the same happened to Jake Seresin.

“She slashed Jaidyn’s tires too, made sure he couldn’t leave before Bob and I got there.” Jake mentioned and Bradley just raised his eyebrows in shock.

“No shit?”

“Bob took Odette to Paybacks place, he called me while I was on my way over—said he wouldn’t be too far away? Cyclone called off training for the rest of the week and sent everyone home.” Jake mumbled as he yawned, stretching his back out as he did so.

“Yeah he said something about not being able to have people flying multi million dollar fighter jets around while there’s an internal investigation going on.” Bradley sighed. He was exhausted. “Where’s Jaidyn now?”

“On his way to the station, I called the cops—they took him off in cuffs at the daycare.” Amilia explained as she looked around. “This a Military Hospital or General Public?” Bradley just looked at Jake who shrugged his shoulders back at him. Both men decided they needed to take a seat. Sitting side by side as Bradley handed Jake the half filled in paperwork.

“How bad is it?” Jake asked under his breath. Bradley just pressed his lips together, he knew Jake had taken notice of the blood that stained Bradley’s hands and uniform. He knew what the answer was already. He just needed to hear Rooster say it.

“Medic said her jaw was broken before we even got here, he must have really laid into her because I could hardly recognise her.” It absolutely killed Bradley to relay this information, he could see from the expression on Jake’s face alone that it killed him to know. But they needed to share each other’s heartbreak to get through this. “She’s tough though, never stopped fighting back—“

“We let her down.” Jake stated as a matter of fact. He was pissed at Jaidyn for everything he’d done to you but more importantly he was pissed at himself for allowing him to get close enough to her you.

“I know.” Braldey swallowed the lump in his throat as Jake filled in everything he knew about you from a lifetime of friendship. It didn’t seem like enough though as he sat there, looking around to see if anyone was coming to update them. “I know we did.”

Amilia opted to shout the two naval aviators who looked far too out of place a packet of chips from the vending machine. She knew well enough that they weren’t hungry, but they needed something in their system. Handing over the packet of chips, one each as she looked down at Bradley and Jake, gesturing for them to take the bags of air.

“My favourite is cheese and onion but I can’t speak for Lays, wouldn’t know what’s good or bad here so I thought I’d play it safe with the original.”

Jake just took Amilia in for all she was worth, Bradley could practically see the heart eyes he was sending over as he grazed Amilias outstretched hand and took the packet of chips.

“Thanks—“ Jake cooed as Amilia came to sit beside him. Bradley hummed to himself when she opened her own packet, offering Jake a few from her packet in the hopes he’d share his with her in return.

He did.

Bradley couldn't help but to smile, Jake deserved to fall in love. He deserved someone who was as willing, kind, and above all as annoying as he was. Amilia Fisher gave off that vibe.

He just wished you were here to witness it too.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Admiral Beau Simpson had never felt more like a failure than he did in the moments he sat behind his desk recording on a blank disc the seven minute assault that had left you dangerously close to death. He had never seen such a violent act against a woman. But what else he saw amongst the beating was bravery—

“I need someone to contact the local authorities, this guy is an animal.” Cyclone explained as he tried to peel his eyes away from the monitor, but he couldn’t. He knew he owed it to you to sit there and watch what he’d let happen by not stepping in sooner. “Why are you still here?”

“Sorry sir.” One of the administrators that Cyclone had called into his office babbled out as he ran to make sure that the request of the admiral would be conducted. Almost as soon as he had left, Pete Mitchell was stepping into his office, wearing a confused expression.

Like this day couldn’t get any fucking worse for Beau Simpson.

“Why have you suspended all training until further notice and sent my team home?” Maverick asked, leaning over Cyclone's desk. “What’s going on—“

“You need to get down to the Base Hospital, Lieutenant Bradshaw is there with Y/n.” Cyclone could barely stomach enough courage to say what he needed to say. He made himself sick. “Allocations were made, they were dismissed when they should have been properly adhered to.” He sighed in disapproval of his own actions. Leaning back in his chair as he looked at the man who was in all aspects a better man than he was in the moment. “Felix was taken to hospital about two hours ago and I’ve opened an internal investigation into the situation. Your team is grounded until further notice, Captain.” Pete frowned as he took in what Admiral Simpson had just told him. He had been wondering where Rooster was, where Hangman had gone off to and why Bob was suddenly missing in action.

He paused for a moment, wondering if what his initial thought was truly what had been the case.

“Her ex got to her did he?” Maverick pressed his lips together as Cyclone begrudgingly nodded in conformation. “I told you when I found out he first got reposted that something would happen if you didn’t keep an eagle eye on that son of a bitch, didn’t I?”

It was true. When Jaidyn had first showed up in North Island, Jake had asked if Mav could possibly pull some strings. He tried to warn Admiral Simpson what would happen, but his predictions fell on deaf ears. Maverick couldn’t tell at the time if Cyclone just didn’t want to know, was too self centred to get involved or if he just didn’t care enough about his personnel to do anything about it.

“The only reason he took up this posting, Sir, was to get at her—I told you that and what did you do?”

Cyclone just closed his eyes—He knew what he had done. Nothing. If anyone had failed you it was Beau Simpson. “You told me to fall back in line, told me that if Felix had a problem she could come to you, but when she did what did you do?” Maverick hissed—he swore with the pressure building on his teeth as he clenched them tight he was about to break at least four. “You sent her away.”

“I was just following protocol—“

“When has following protocol ever worked in the case of domestic violence, Sir.” Maverick left it at that as he made his way over to the door. Speaking over his shoulder before Pete Mitchell went to explain to the remaining members of his Dagger crew what was going on. “It’s people like you who make the system so flawed it does more damage than good.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

The sun had well and truly gone down by the time Bradley and Jake saw a doctor heading anywhere towards their immediate vicinity. Amilia had fallen asleep beside where Jake sat, her head felt natural on his shoulder and he, in every sense of the word, hadn’t had the heart to move her.

Bob had shown up an hour ago. He’d packed up a bunch of Odette stuff and dropped it off at Paybacks place before he made his way over. He’d filled him in on what he knew and told him as soon as he knew more he’d call.

“Wonder how long it’s gonna take for someone to put us out of our misery.” Rooster mumbled, his eyelids were heavy and his feet felt numb from sitting in the hospital waiting room chair for what felt like an eternity.

“Probably won’t be for a while still, god only knows we deserve to sit and stew in our own self pity.” Jake replied, he was just as tired as Rooster. Amilia snorted as she stirred on Jake’s shoulder.

“You two sound fucking pathetic.” Amile Fisher had the energy of a feral princess. She was wholesome and you could definitely take her home to meet your mother if you wanted to. But she drank tequila and bourbon of any sort straight. She;d square up with a grown man without hesitation and have no problem putting someone in their place. Amilia was all about balance, and right now? Jake Seresin was all kinds of out of balance.

“Thought you were asleep?” Jake turned his head to where Amila still had her head resting on Jake’s shoulder.

“The sound of your insecurities woke me up.” She mumbled, looking up at Jake through tired and hooded eyes. “You aren’t responsible for this, neither is Rooster, so cut the self loathing crap out.”

“Yes ma’am—“ Bob's ears pricked up at the sound of Jake sounding off like an aviator falling in line. He had a feeling what was coming next if Amilia was anything like her sister Chelsea.

“Ew, don’t call me ma’am, I work for a living.” Yep, he called it. Jake felt his heart skip a beat as he leaned in to kiss Amilias forehead gently, wondering if she’d follow through with her promise to headbutt the next guy who did so—she didn’t, Jake was simply met with a warm hum.

“Y/n Y/l/n?” There was a doctor calling your name as Braldey stood up in a frantic attempt to immediately find out more.

“That’s us!” He said a little too loud. The doctor just made his way over to where Rooster stood. “We’re here for Fe—how is she?” The doctor standing before Bradley just looked at him blankly. He had nothing good to say.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, it was pretty touch and go for a little while but we managed to get her stable enough to hopefully see some real progress come through in the next couple of weeks.”

“What’s the prognosis?” Jake asked, Amilia had since set up right, Jake wasn’t going to admit he missed her touch. So he pretended that he didn’t mind.

“We’ve had to wire her jaw shut but she should still be able to talk, she’ll be able to move her lips, just won’t be able to eat or drink so we’ll get her set up on a liquid drip the second she’s up.” The doctor explained and Jake wanted to vomit.

“She suffered a pretty serious spleen rupture, most likely caused by the blunt force trauma sustained around the area so we did have to remove it entirely—she’ll have to take a course of antibiotics every few months to ward of certain bacteria, living without that particular organ puts her at higher risk for life-threatening infections but you can live without it.” Doctor Sullivan explained as the waiting room reminded silent “She’ll receive a booster vaccine for pneumococcus, and for meningococcus and haemophilus influenzae type B in two weeks.”

“Holy shit—“ Amilia couldn’t believe what she was hearing, this was serious.

“Can we see her?” Bradley asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“She’s being brought down from surgery now, we’ll get her set up in a room and we’ll send someone to grab you when she’s ready to be seen, however, usual visiting hours are between seven and seven, Although, judging by the seriousness of Miss Y/l/n’s injuries it’s safe for me to assume we’re dealing with some sort of abuse here?”

“Sherlock Holmes everybody.” Jake scoffed. “Listen, all due respect, but she won’t be alone for a second while she’s here.” Jake wasn’t asking the doctor to grant them a special pass, he was telling him. Doctor Sullivan simply nodded. He knew there was no reason to fight Jake on this one. They were gonna do what they wanted to do and no one was going to get in the way of that.

“I’ll have my chief sign off on an extenuating circumstances case order and liaise with whatever investigation is currently being conducted.” Doctor Sullivan nodded. “I’ll send someone to get you all shortly.”

“Thanks Doc, really appreciate it.” Bradley thanked Doctor Sullivan as he shook his hand, sitting down to patiently wait for the moment he could see you again. His heart had never hurt this much before. He wanted to cry but he was sure that he had nothing left in the tank. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“Get in line.” Jake added. He was seething, his anger threatening to consume every fibre of his being. “Fuckers gonna be breathing through a tube, if I had known what he did, I would have killed him.”

“Rhett’s coming.” Bob piped up from his own seat, Rooster didn’t know who he was talking about. “He can stay with Felix while you guys sort Jaidyn out and take care of Odette.”

“Who’s Rhett?” Rooster asked with a confused look smeared across his face. Jake answered for Bob knowing he wasn’t all that keen on airing his shit out.

“Bob's brother.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“Get your fucking hands off me!” Jaidyn spat as he was shoved into one of the holding cells at the North Island police station. “Are you fucking kidding me!”

“Sir, calm down—you’re being detained for an incident that occurred this morning.”

“You mean the innocent where I had the shit best out of me!?” Jaidyn shouted at the police officer who stood behind the other side of the bars. “I was beaten—“

“It was a provoked attack, we have video evidence to back the charges.” The officer explained before he turned on his heels, leaving Jaidyn to sit and stew in his own thoughts about how the fuck he was going to get the hell out of this.

“Who took the video?” Jaidyn shouted down the hall at the police officer who had nearly rounded the corner.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss the identity of the woman who handed in that evidence.” Was all Jaidyn got in response before the officer had disappeared. Jaidyn knew exactly who he was talking about.

“That fucking bitch.” Jaidyn remarked. It was the woman who stabbed his fucking tiers. He knew it. Amilia didn’t know it, but she had a target on her back as big as you did. As big as Jake and as big as Bradley. “That stupid fucking bitch—“

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Rhett Abbott hated flying. Which was incredibly ironic considering what his brother did for a living. He sat in the middle aisle of a plane he swore looked like it came straight out of the eighties and kicked himself for dropping everything he had going for himself because of one phone call.

Rhett didn't even ride. He was so distracted by Bob's calls that he couldn't focus. He knew if he got on the back of that bull he’d come off in a split second. Unable to hold onto whatever shot at victory he had. Rhett used to look up at night and wonder about his place in the stars, but all he seemed to do these days was look down–and worry about his place on the dirt. He was going nowhere and he knew it.

As he turned his phone on aeroplane mode and readjusted himself, Rhett wondered if San Diago would be an escape he needed. Perhaps Bob wasn't just reaching out for help, maybe he was inadvertently extending a hand to Rhett, to pull him from the vortex that was Wabang Wyoming.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

When one of the nurses on shift had come to get Bradley and Jake, it was Amilia who thought it would be a good idea for her and Bob to let them have a moment alone with you.

“Hey Bob, I'm kinda tired, Do you wanna come grab a coffee with me?” She asked softly, Bradley knew exactly what she was doing, so did Bob, it went straight over Jakes head though–but he didn't care all that much if Amilia wanted to be here or not, all he cared about as soon as the nurse had come and told them they could finally see you was that he got to do just that.

“Sure.” Bob nodded, he collected his things, pocketing his phone but only after checking in to see if rhett had messaged him. Still nothing.

“We’ll uh, catch up with you guys later.” Amilia pressed her lips together before she and Bob took off in the direction of the entrance. Leaving Bradley and Jake to face the harsh reality of jaidyn’s handy work themselves. It was probably for the best this way.

“Oh my god.” Bradley had seen what you looked like in the janitors closet, so his reaction was nowhere near as confronting as Jakes. “He did that to her?” Jake asked, it was a stupid question he already knew the answer to as he walked closer to your bedside. “Y/n–” Seeing you like this, so fragile and broken in a god damn hospital made Jake realise the only person he let down more than you was your daughter.

“She's gonna be out for a few hours still.” The nurse spoke up from her spot by the door. “Make yourselves as comfortable as you can though.” Soon enough it was just Jake and Bradley staring at you as you lay sleeping, high off your face on copious amounts of painkillers in a hospital bed. Battered and bruised. Beaten nearly to death.

“I can't imagine what would have been going through her mind when she was in there.” Jake spoke quietly as he stroked the pad of his thumb across your swollen cheek. “Probably thought that no one was coming.” It was a dig at himself.

“Cyclone said that there's footage.” Bradley spoke as he sat down in the chair beside your bed, watching the rise and fall of your chest. “He didn't think to check for a camera like he had in her hanger, this could be what puts him behind bars.”

“He’d wanna hope so–” Jake hissed. “Because if I ever see that fucker again ill put him in the ground.”

“Dot cant see her mum like this Jake.” Bradley couldn't take his eyes of you as he spoke. He was too afraid that if he did you'd stop breathing. “Look at her, she's a mess–it'll do more damage than good, to the both of them.”

“We’ll do shifts, she needs us to be as reliable as rain in Seattle.” Jake knew where this conversation was going, so he bit the bullet before Rooster even needed to plead his case. “I know how you feel, and I know my place in all this mess.” He explained, pushing your hair behind your ear. “You decide what you wanna do and I'll follow your lead.”

“I'm not Odette's dad, Jake.”

“You’re the closest thing she's got to one, so you decide, if you wanna be here i'll look after Dot, if you wanna look after Dot i'll be here, but she needs someone here with her all the time.”

“I feel like I can't breathe.” Bradley held a hand to his chest as his eyes welled with tears, Jake moved around to the side of the bed Rooster sat beside and placed a firm hand on his shoulder from behind. “She's the love of my life man, they both are.”

“I meant what I said when I said she deserves the world Bradshaw, and if I know anyone deserving of her, I'm looking at him.” Jake recited what he’d told Bradley in the very beginning. “So we’ll both sit here, formulate a schedule, and figure out where we go from here so when Y/n wakes up, she knows that Dots all taken care of.”

“Its gonna break her fucking heart that she won’t be able to see her.'' Bradley knew how you would react. You'd done so much to protect her and now you wouldnt even hold your daughter. “She's gonna flip.”

“I'd rather have her flip out on us and be safe and in the care of doctors and nurses who want to help then have her traumatise her own daughter, because right now she looks like Frankenstein's bride.”

“Don't let her hear you say that.” Bradley chuckled to himself as Jake tapped his best friend's shoulder, knowing that they were both over exhausted and struggling to stay awake.

“I'll just tell her you said it.” Jake teased before making his way over to the other vacant chair in the corner of the room. “While she's indisposed we should start moving her shit into your house so when she's discharged you can take her and Dot home where they belong.”

“You think she’d be alright with that?” Bradley asked as he kissed the palm of your hand, holding it between his hands as he brought it up to his cheek. “And since when have you been so okay with her moving in?” Jake didn't answer straight away as he unbuttoned his flight suit, tied the arms around his waist and sat with an exaggerated sigh.

“Since you chose her above everything else.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @a-serene-place-to-be @lilyevanswhore @thescarletknight2014 @blindedbythelightt @averyhotchner @emma8895eb @blairfox04 @caitsymichelle13 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @teacupsandtopgun @aemondssiut @feltonswifesworld87 @akalei349 @notjustsomeblonde @americaarse @avaleineandafryingpan @phoenix1388 @xoxabs88xox @je-suis-prest-rachel @pono-pura-vida @rosiahills22 @starset21 @anarchyrising @caidi-paris @starkleila @criticalroleobssedperson @enchantingdreamergothprune @flrboyd @emma8895eb

#terms of endearment// bradley bradshaw #terms of endearment// jake seresin #bradley bradshaw #bradleybradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #bradley x reader #rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin

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bad-fucking-omens · 5 months

Text

The Witch Twin (Alec V. x OC) - Chapter 24 - Truth

Summary: When I thought about my future, I was sure that I had the rest of my life vaguely planned out.

Then, my older sister moved up from Arizona to stay with us — and turned my entire life upside down.

I had no idea just how bad it had gotten until I was standing in a castle in Italy, convinced that I was about to die.

Length: 2.6K words (Complete fic 71.8K words)

Fic warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, explicit smut (M/F), referenced/implied past child abuse, emotional manipulation by sibling

Chapter warnings: None

Read on AO3 or read below

24. TRUTH

Edward growled, undoubtedly having heard Aro’s silent words. He glared at me, his golden eyes holding a mixture of fury and curiosity. I knew where the rage came from, and I assumed he was curious about my ability.

I turned and pressed a soft kiss to Alec’s cheek before I stepped forward to join the others. Demetri moved aside to allow me to stand beside Aro.

Edward growled again, which made a growl rise in Bella’s throat. Behind me, I heard Alec and Jane both hiss furiously at them. I smirked slightly, my heart swelling with love at how protective my mate and his sister were over me.

“Renesmee, do you recognize who this is?” Aro asked.

I lowered the hood of my cloak and she looked up at me. The little girl said, “She’s my aunt, Eve.”

Smiling at her, I knelt down so that we were eye-to-eye.

“Hello, Renesmee,” I greeted. She leaned forward to press her hand to my cheek, but I smiled and said, “No need for that, little one. I can hear your thoughts without your touch. You told Aro that I was taken by the Volturi. Why would you say that?”

Renesmee replied to me in her thoughts. Luckily, I had already linked her mind to my own. I also added Aro and Alec to the link. I wanted them to know exactly what Renesmee would say.

‘My mother told me they stole you from your bed in the middle of the night while her and Grandpa were sleeping. She said that Alec is obsessed with you and he took you when you told him that you didn’t want to be with him. And when he took you, they had someone use their power to create a bond between you and Alec, and everyone else in the Volturi, too.’

My eyes snapped up to Bella and my lip curled in a snarl. How dare she accuse Alec of kidnapping me? How dare she accuse the Volturi of using Chelsea to force a fake bond between me and my own mate? She was the only one who had ever manipulated me.

I looked back at Renesmee, smoothing my face back into a calm expression. A smirk curled on my lips and I offered, “Do you want to see what really happened?”

The young girl hesitated, then nodded. Aro reached out to me and I took his hand, using him to show Renesmee my memories through the mindlink.

I showed her how I first met Alec in Volterra — how my world stopped when our eyes met, how he had pulled me into his arms when he thought I was in danger, and how nervous I was, but how I still felt entirely safe in his arms.

I showed her how her mother and her father attempted to keep me from Alec — how they manipulated me and my love for my father into doing what they wanted me to do.

I showed her how miserable I was being away from Alec — how I just stayed in bed all day, crying myself to sleep every night.

I showed her how Alec had come to check on me — how he saw me sobbing and how he just couldn’t leave me like that, how he pulled me into his arms and just held me while I slept, how he asked me in the morning to come to Volterra, how he waited for me to make my mind.

“Do you see, little one?” I asked softly, pulling my hand away from Aro’s. “It was my choice to leave with Alec. I went with him because I just couldn’t stand to be away from him any longer. No one forced me to go with him. I left because I love him, and he loves me. . . . Your mother and father were the only ones who tried to force me to do anything, and they wanted me to stay away from him.”

Bella and Edward snarled, but Alec and Jane growled viciously back at them. I ignored them all and continued to speak to Renesmee.

“Your parents and the Cullens have broken one of our most important laws. Your father allowed a human — your mother — to know about vampires without ever intending to change her. And now, they have created you — something that has never existed before,” I said. “We believed you to be an immortal child, but even now that we know that is not what you are, we still do not know what you will become or if you will be able to follow our laws, especially since your family seems to have such little regard for them. . . . Do you understand, Renesmee? We only came here to seek justice.”

‘I understand,’ she said through the mindlink. ‘I’m sorry that I believed them when they said the Volturi took you.’

I laughed softly. “It is perfectly alright, Renesmee. Of course you trusted that what your parents told you was the truth. I’m just glad that you know what really happened now.”

I stood and returned to Alec’s side, not missing the proud smile that Aro sent me. Alec took my hand when I reached him. He pressed a kiss to my forehead.

‘You were incredible,’ Alec murmured in our personal mindlink. ‘You were very gentle with her, but you spoke the truth. I can’t believe they told her I kidnapped you.’

‘I’m not shocked at anything they do at this point. They just wanted to scare their daughter into thinking the Volturi are evil.’

I focused back on Aro as he began to speak again.

“So much to discuss, so much to decide. If you and your furry protector will excuse me, my dear Cullens, I must confer with my brothers.”

Aro waved the guard forward. As we began to advance, Edward pulled his family back towards their own ground. It took the guard mere seconds to surround Aro and the others.

“How can you abide this infamy?” Caius asked incredulously. “Why do we stand here impotently in the face of such an outrageous crime, covered by such a ridiculous deception?”

“Because it’s all true. Every word of it,” Aro said. He looked at me and I confirmed his words with a nod, which seemed to annoy Caius. “Brother, see how many witnesses stand ready to give evidence that they have seen this miraculous child grow and mature in just the short time they’ve known her. That they have felt the warmth of the blood that pulses in her veins.”

Caius was silent, deliberating for a moment before he said, “The werewolves.”

“Ah, brother. . . .”

“Will you defend that alliance, too, Aro? The Children of the Moon have been our bitter enemies from the dawn of time. We have hunted them to near extinction in Europe and Asia. Yet Carlisle encourages a familiar relationship with this enormous infestation — no doubt in an attempt to overthrow us. The better to protect his warped lifestyle.”

Edward cleared his throat loudly, drawing Caius’s focus to him. The blond king threw an angry glare at him while Aro rubbed a hand over his face, clearly frustrated.

“Caius, it’s the middle of the day,” Edward said. “These are not Children of the Moon, clearly. They bear no relation to your enemies on the other side of the world.”

Caius spat, “You breed mutants here.”

“They aren’t even werewolves. Aro can tell you all about it if you don’t believe me.”

“Dear Caius, I would have warned you not to press this point if you had told me your thoughts,” Aro said. “Though the creatures think of themselves as werewolves, they are not. The more accurate name for them would be shape-shifters. The choice of a wolf form was purely chance. It could have been a bear or a hawk or a panther when the first change was made. These creatures truly have nothing to do with the Children of the Moon. They have merely inherited this skill from their fathers. It’s genetic — they do not continue their species by infecting others the way true werewolves do.”

“They know our secret,” Caius said.

Aro replied, “They are creatures of our supernatural world, brother. Perhaps even more dependent upon secrecy than we are. They can hardly expose us. Carefully, Caius. Specious allegations get us nowhere.”

In his mindlink with the other king’s, Aro hissed at Caius, ‘If we continue to accuse them of every crime under the sun, then our witnesses will believe that we are trying to find any fault with them simply to justify destroying them. We must be careful, brother. I have a plan, if you will allow me to conduct it.’

Caius was silent, but he gave a small nod. Aro then turned towards the Cullens.

“Just to be thorough, I’d like to speak with a few of your witnesses. Procedure, you know.”

Edward hissed and several of the Cullens stiffened at his words. Aro drifted towards them, ignoring their reactions. He stopped a few yards from what seemed to be a mated couple that were standing at the very edge of the group.

Aro spoke to the man, Amun, who told him that the child was biologically Edward and Bella’s daughter, that she grows with each passing day, and that she learns new information. Aro seemed focused on the fact that the girl grows so quickly. Amun admitted that he saw no danger in her because she is able to learn, unlike typical immortal children.

The man and his mate quickly left the clearing, with Aro’s permission. He then turned to another vampire on the Cullen’s side to ask for her opinion of the child.

“She’s no danger to humans,” Siobhan said. “She blends in better than we do. She poses no threat of exposure.”

“Can you think of none?” Aro asked her, causing Edward to growl.

The woman replied, “I don’t think I follow you.”

Aro drifted back towards us. Renara, Felix, and Demetri trailed him like a shadow.

“There is no broken law,” Aro announced. “No broken law. However, does it follow then that there is no danger? No. That is a separate issue.”

He began to pace, slowly moving closer and closer to the line of guards.

“She is unique . . . utterly, impossibly unique. Such a waste it would be, to destroy something so lovely. Especially when we could learn so much. . . . But there is danger, danger that cannot simply be ignored. How ironic it is that as the humans advance, as their faith in science grows and controls their world, the more free we are from discovery. Yet, as we become more uninhibited by their disbelief in the supernatural, they become strong enough in their technologies that, if they wished, they could actually pose a threat to us, even destroy some of us.

“For thousands and thousands of years, our secrecy has been more a matter of convenience, of ease, than of actual safety. This last raw, angry century has given birth to weapons of such power that they endanger even immortals. Now our status as mere myth in truth protects us from these weak creatures we hunt.

“This amazing child, if we could know her potential — know with absolute certainty that she could always remain shrouded within the obscurity that protects us. But we know nothing of what she will become! Her own parents are plagued by fears of her future. We cannot know what she will grow to be.”

He turned, looking at the witnesses that we had gathered. Aro said, “Only the known is safe. Only the known is tolerable. The unknown is . . . a vulnerability.”

“You’re reaching, Aro,” Carlisle said in a bleak, anxious voice.

“Peace, friend,” Aro said with a smile. “Let us not be hasty. Let us look at this from every side.”

One of the nomads on the Cullen’s side stepped forward to offer his opinion. Aro let him speak his mind. He spoke of how Carlisle had asked him to witness the trial, but that he had come to witness the Volturi. He claimed that we did not come to execute justice, but rather, we used this reported crime as a reason to destroy the Cullens. He claimed that the Volturi saw them as competition to their power because they are a family, rather than just a coven.

Anger seared through the mindlink of all the guards and even our leaders. This I allowed to fester, since I could not contain my own anger at the man’s words. We were a family — a mismatched, slightly dysfunctional one — but a family nonetheless. We cared for each other and protected each other and loved each other.

“Some of us wondered if Carlisle having truth on his side would be enough to stop the so-called justice,” the nomad continued. “Are the Volturi here to protect the safety of our secrecy, or to protect their own power? Did they come to destroy an illegal creation, or a way of life? Their guard is just a mindless weapon, a tool in their masters’ quest for domination.

Once again, the mindlink ignited with annoyed and insulted grumbles from the guard, though no one actually voiced their frustration. We were far from mindless, and we resented being thought of as just ‘tools’ to be used.

Finally, the nomad looked towards our witnesses and goaded, “You might consider joining us. If you think the Volturi will let you live to tell this tale, you are mistaken. We may all be destroyed, but then again, maybe not. Perhaps we are on more equal footing than they know. Perhaps the Volturi have finally met their match.”

Aro simply smiled at the man. “A very pretty speech, my revolutionary friend.”

“Revolutionary?” the nomad snarled. “Who am I revolting against, might I ask? Are you my king? Do you wish me to call you master, too, like your sycophantic guard?”

“Peace, Garrett,” Aro said patiently. “I meant only to refer to your time of birth. Still a patriot, I see.”

He turned to face our witnesses. He said, “What do you think of all this, friends? I can assure you the child is not what we feared. But we must decide if we take the risk and let the child live. Do we put our world in jeopardy to preserve their family intact? Or does earnest Garrett have the right of it? Any of you may go in peace as Amun did. You are here because you agreed to witness. That is all we have asked of you, and all we will ask of you.”

A few of the witnesses nodded and began to leave the clearing. Once they were gone, Aro inclined his head to those who had remained — which was nearly all of them — before he turned back to the guard.

“We are outnumbered, dearest ones,” Aro said, his voice clear and strong. “We can expect no outside help. Should we leave this question undecided to save ourselves?”

“No, master,” we said in a single, united voice.

“Is the protection of our world worth perhaps the loss of some of our number?”

“Yes,” we said. Santiago added, “We are not afraid.”

Aro smiled, then turned towards Caius and Marcus.

“Brothers, there is much to consider here.”

“Let us counsel,” Caius and Marcus said together. They joined hands and stood together in a small group, facing each other and speaking near silently so that no one else could hear them.

Alec took my hand in his, linking our fingers together. We looked at each other to share a love-filled look.

‘I love you, my sweet Eve. I do not know how this will end, but I will do everything in my power to protect you,’ Alec said in our private mindlink.

‘We will survive,’ I replied confidently. ‘I refuse to leave this world without having spent at least a year with you. I love you, Alec.’

He squeezed my hand tightly and we shared a small smile. Then, Aro spoke through the guard’s mindlink.

‘Prepare yourselves, my dear ones.’

#alec volturi x reader #alec volturi imagine #alec volturi fanfiction #alec volturi #twilight imagine #twilight fanfiction #twilight #volturi fanfiction #volturi #fanfic

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fearfully-fiction · 2 years

Text

Spike Island pt.6- Dakota Laden x Reader

word count:4980

warnings: language, anxiety, and nervousness, the last part of this series!

summary: Based on season 3, episode 16 of DF. so, all credit to the crew, the show, and the channel. You arrive at your sleeping arrangements and things don't go as you wanted them to. but lucky for you, you have people who care for you, and that gives you the strength to carry on to do more road trips in the future.

I am incredibly proud of this series and the Loftus Hall series as well! This was such an awesome experience writing this! continuing that storyline just felt right to me and I hope you enjoyed it! let me know if you guys liked it and what your favorite part was! I love you to the moon and to Saturn!

-M.G

(gif not mine)

You stood there getting everything together as your thoughts just raced, everything but the next few hours seemed to dissipate. Chelsea walked over to her brother, “Go talk to her, she’s clearly upset,” she told him and gently pushed him in your direction.

Your back was turned to him as you did your best to slow your mind down and keep it from wandering a darker path than it already was. All you could think about was your candle going out and having to be in the pitch black. Sitting in the dark not knowing what was around you, you know that every little sound will be amplified because of the nothingness that is going to be around you. Sure you’ll have your boyfriend but you’re determined to sleep just a little further away from him so that you might feel the slightest bit normal on the last overnight. Do you personally think it’s a good idea to do that? No, but will you do it for the sake of the fans and not letting your friends down? Yeah, yeah you would. Your aching seemed to be incessant, and your fear unrelenting. You felt tears come to your eyes and you covered your face with your shaking hands. You took in an uneven breath trying not to cry. You felt something touch your arm, flinched harshly, and let out a yelp. Everyone turned to look at you.

“Hey, hey, it’s just me,” you heard your boyfriend’s voice. You shut your eyes tightly willing the tears to go away. “I didn’t know you were there, sorry,” you apologized before turning around with a smile on your face. It was one of the fakest smiles you have ever put on and it hurt just to keep the corners of your mouths slightly tilted upward. “You don’t have to be sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said and placed both of his hands on your arms gently. “Is everybody ready?” you asked, trying your best to get the attention off of yourself in fear that you would fall apart right then and there. “It’s ok if your not,” is how Tanner answered instead of a yes or no. “I’m fine, let’s go ok,” you kept your tone as steadfast as possible though they could hear the slight break that slipped out. You knew that Dakota was going to talk with you once you were alone and you dreaded it but you also couldn’t deny the fact that there was a part of you that needed him right now.

“Please be honest,” Chelsea pleaded. “I’m being honest, now let’s just go ok,” you said and removed yourself from Dakota’s grasp before picking up your things. Your hands, arms, and shoulders were sore and hurting as you carried your things. The group eventually dropped it knowing they needed to get on with the night. You all got to your sleeping locations and you being you and in the state, you were in had to walkie everyone to make sure they were ok.

Once you got your confirmation that everyone was indeed alright, you sighed and nodded your head. You were currently closer to the entrance than your boyfriend was seeing as you decided you wanted to be as separated as you could be for the last overnight. You hated the fact that you had only a god-forsaken candle as light, but you were glad to be treated equally and not once again have to bend the rules.

Dakota was unsure and very wary at the thought of letting you be so far from him, he wanted you safe and so he decided to check up on you. You heard footsteps coming down the hallway and you immediately jumped, almost falling off of your cot. You saw a familiar figure coming into view and sighed with relief. You weren’t ready to face the dark completely alone yet, and so it was a slight comfort knowing that your boyfriend was in fact in the same building as you, just down the hallway.

“Hey, babe, you ok?” he asked as he came to sit next to you. You sighed heavily but nodded anyway. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you answered trying not to let your fear show. “You know, I can tell when you aren’t telling the truth right?” he asked with a raised brow. Having two candles was much better than one you had to admit you wished you could keep his and have him stay with you. You were sure that if you asked he would, but you wanted to be brave, you needed to be.

“I really am fine,” you tried once again, but he shook his head. “I need you to be honest with me right now,” he stated firmly.

“Dakota, I’m being truthful,” you said. He sighed and shook his head, “No. you’re not. There is something obviously wrong, and I’d be stupid not to notice my girlfriend struggling. Tell me what’s wrong,” he said and grabbed your hands gently in his. You knew you couldn’t lie anymore, and in all honesty, you needed him right then. You let your shoulders sag and a deep sigh exits your lips. He looked at you with a look of concern as you slowly let your walls down.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m supposed to be brave right now, but it’s so hard,” you said shakily. He let go of your hands so he could carefully wrap his arms around your shaking figure. “You have no reason to be sorry, it’s ok to be scared, you have good reason to be,” he said and kissed your head. “I just, I’m in so much pain, and it’s not just physically my mind is racing just as fast as my heart is and I don’t know what to do. I don’t want my candle to go out, because then it’ll be completely dark and I don’t know what’s in the dark. All I know is that I am so scared,” you admitted to him with tears now gathered in your eyes and hanging from your lashes.

Having his arms around you made you feel protected and safe, and you never wanted that feeling to go away though you knew it had to eventually. “I’ll stay with you as long as you need me, and I promise I won’t let your candle go out. If it ever does I’m gonna be right here next to you, I won’t let anything hurt you. Why don’t you lie down and try to get some rest, I’ll be right here with you,” he said and gently moved you both around to find a comfortable spot. Once again his back was to the wall and your back was to his chest. You had his arms wrapped around your middle and his chin gently resting on your shoulder. You sighed at the feeling of yourself relaxing against him and your head turned to the side to press a kiss on his cheek. “You know, I can’t keep you here forever right?” you asked sadly. You felt him shake his head in disagreement. “I’ll stay right here forever, as long as you need me,” he said and placed a kiss gently on your shoulder. “I have to be brave though, I have to finish the trip right, and that means alone,” you told him. “Are you crazy? Do you think I’m letting you be here on your own? No, I’m staying here the rest of the night,” Dakota declared. “No, Dakota I have to do this on my own,” you told him firmly despite the fear that had a vice grip on you. “I don’t want to let you go, not right now,” he said and held you tighter.

“Believe me, I don’t want you to but please let me do this,” you said and glanced over your shoulder at him with pleading eyes. You tried to tug yourself away from him but his hold was tight enough to keep you in place without hurting you. “No,” you heard him say as he gently pulled you back to his chest. “Ok, you can stay here for a little while longer, but only a little while,” you said and let yourself lean against him once again. You swore you heard something down the hall and your head perked up. Dakota looked at you in confusion, “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Do you hear that?” you asked him and he listened before shaking his head. “No, I don’t hear anything,” he said and you reached to grab his hands in yours. “What do you hear?” he asked softly. You heard what sounded like feet dragging across the floor, and some soft scraping sounds. “It sounded like someone dragging their feet and scratching the walls,” you said as you felt a pit of fear form in your stomach.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” you said and clung to your boyfriend tighter. He kept a firm grasp on you. “Nothing’s gonna hurt you, I promise,” he said and rubbed the back of your hands soothingly. You wanted nothing more than for the night to be over. You shut your eyes and felt your chest get tight, hearing how loud those sounds were and how much they reminded you of Loftus Hall. The scratching at the walls was really beginning to scare you, as it brought back the memories of the same noise you heard only two nights ago.

“Something’s scratching at the walls, just like before Dakota, what if something followed me?” you asked and curled closer to your boyfriend. “It’s all ok, (y/n), nothing followed you, you’re ok. You’re with me now, and nothing can hurt you,” Dakota said softly and rested his head against yours. “This night won’t last forever and neither will this fear, I promise you that,” he said and felt you nod. “I just want it to stop,” you said and sighed warily. “It will,” he said and brought your hands up to place kisses on them. You have no idea how long you sat there with him just holding you but it felt like forever.

The scratching noises would come and go, getting louder as they went along.

All of a sudden Dakota’s walkie goes off.

“D-Dakota,” Chelsea came through. You let out a short yelp at the sound and curled further into your boyfriend’s embrace. Dakota jumped too and his grip got tighter for a second. (ok since it’s all pretty much static, I’m gonna make up some of his dialogue for this part, sorry)

“Yeah, go for Dakota,” he answered back quickly. Your eyes were wide with fear. “What’s wrong?” you asked.

“Dude my candle just went out next to me when I was laying in the bed,” Chelsea responded. Your mouth dropped slightly open at her words. “You need to come over here, can you please relight my light?” she asked frantically. You looked at your boyfriend with scared eyes. “Dakota you have to go relight it for her. She’s your sister, don’t do that to her,” you said trying to convince him to go light the candle for her once again.

He sighed, “I- but Chels, the rule is that we can’t relight it,” Dakota explained to Chels. You reached your foot out to kick his leg. “Ow, what the hell?” he asked and looked over at your stern face. “You go relight that light Laden,” you said with a serious tone, worried for your friend currently stranded in the dark.

“I can’t even hear you dude, please come over,” she sounded like she was on the verge of crying. Your heart broke for Chelsea at this moment. Dakota looked conflicted. “You better go over there right now, and relight that candle or so help me God-” you got cut off. “Alright, alright, let’s go,” he said and let go of you. “I’m staying right here, I’ll be fine I promise,” you said and gently nudged him off of the cot. “No way, I’m leaving you here,” he tried to argue. “Just go relight her candle, I’ll walkie you if I need you, just go,” you said and made a shooing motion toward him. He knew he had no time to argue and so he reluctantly lets you stay while he runs out into the night to relight his sister’s candle.

The moment he left you knew it was going to be difficult for you. This was the first time you had been alone since before the packet read, and you were terrified. Maybe you should have gone with him, but it was too late now. You already didn’t feel alone in the dark, the scratching sound had gotten louder and the shuffling got closer. You began to feel sick to your stomach, thinking about what lingered there. There were said to be three entities that would come together to form one. You felt the anxiety begin to settle in and images began to flash behind your eyelids every time you blinked. You could practically see these ‘entities’ every time you closed your eyes and you were horrified by them.

All of a sudden everything went completely dead silent and all you could hear was your rapid breathing. In a matter of moments, you had descended back to that place you were stuck in at Loftus Hall. You felt like everything was closing in on you, and something was just dying to break through the dim candlelight. You wanted to run out of there and find your boyfriend but you stayed where you were crippled by fear and anxiety. Though you weren’t sleeping in A-Block you felt as though the building was going to collapse on top of you, and you would be stuck there forever. You wanted nothing more than to be at home in your bed, not fearing that something was going to spring out of the dark at you, not fearing that you would hear terrifying whispers floating around you in the silence cutting through it like a knife.

Through the silence, you could softly hear something coming from down the hall opposite the entrance, and your heart started to race. Something was wrong and you could just tell, you could sense it. You curled your legs up to your chest and wrapped your arms securely around your knees. The noise sounded like whispers and it was starting to make your head dizzy as you focused too hard on your surroundings.

“Please stop, please stop, please stop,” you mumbled to yourself as you heard the voices get louder. You kept trying to block the noise out but it crept through every time. It now sounded like a full-fledged conversation, and you were absolutely horrified. “Go away, just go away,” you said louder this time with a quiver in your voice.

You felt as if something was taunting you, and you had no idea what to do. You just wanted it to all go away.

Something caught your eye down the corridor and you jumped immediately crowding yourself against the cold hard wall behind you. It seemed to move quickly and you were beginning to feel yourself lose control. Tears were already pouring down your cheeks, and soft sobs were wracking through you. You didn’t know what it was and didn’t want to know. Your eyes stayed glued down the dark hallway as you held yourself tighter praying that the night would end soon.

---

Dakota had relit Chelsea’s candle and was now on his way back to you. He was going as quickly as he could, not wanting you to be alone for longer than need be. He finally reached the building and walked inside.

What he found was heartbreaking. You sat there on the cot pressed tightly against the wall with your arms wrapped around your knees being held to your chest. He could see that you were shaking and could hear you crying.

“Damn it,” he muttered as he quickly made his way over to you. He set his camera down and gently placed a hand on your knee.

You cried out in fear and jumped as your head whipped around to face him. He could see that you had been crying for a while now and his worry was visibly etched across his face. You cried even harder when you realized it was him. “It’s just me babe, it’s just me,” he said and gently moved you so he could once again sit behind you. Once he was settled you burrowed yourself against him and let the tears continue to flow until they dried. He stroked your hair and placed a kiss on your head. “How do you not hear it?” you croaked as you moved your face so you could look at him. He looked at you in confusion. “Hear what?” he asked and moved a piece of hair from your face. “The voices, the shuffling and scratching, how do you not hear it?” you asked nervously. “That’s what you hear?” he asked in fear. You nodded your head sharply. “I saw something too, I swear I did. It was down the hall. I’m scared Dakota,” you said and grabbed his hands tightly in your own. He looked beyond shocked at your words. “You saw it?” he asked in disbelief. You just nodded your head once again. “I swear,” you said shakily. He let go of your hands to bring you closer to him. “You’re not staying alone for the rest of the night,” he told you and you sighed in relief. “C’mon we’re going to my spot, it may be better for you,” he said and began to get up. You looked at him with wide eyes at the thought of moving but you knew that you’d be ok as long as you were with him. He saw the look of hesitance in your eyes and his gaze softened. “I won’t let anything hurt you, I promise. I’ll take care of you remember?” he asked softly and looked into your eyes. You simply nodded your head before reaching up to wrap your arms around him tightly. “I love you, Dakota,” you whispered, “I love you too (y/n),” he replied and slowly pulled away from you.

“Grab your camera and candle, you can leave the rest here, my cot is enough,” he softly instructed you. You grabbed your things only then realizing you didn’t have a free hand to hold onto him. You didn’t necessarily need it, but you wanted it, it’s what made you feel safe. Your heart started pounding and you just had to stay as close to him as you could without being clingy. Dakota noticed the tension in your shoulders, “What’s wrong?” he asked softly. “It’s just that I don’t want to lose you, what if we get separated somehow?” you explain your fear. “C’mere,” he said and lifted his arm that held the camera and slung it around your shoulders. He already knew that the camera footage and angle were going to be shitty but in that moment he didn’t care, he just wanted you to feel safe. “I won’t let go,” he said and gave you a gentle squeeze not wanting to irritate your already sore shoulder.

You began your walk to where Dakota’s spot was located and as you made your way there you did your best to block out every other sound than his breathing. The faint talking had slowly begun to cease, and the figure had seemed to disappear. Which in all honesty made you even more nervous. You reached his cot and set your things down before sitting on it. It wasn’t until you had finally settled against your boyfriend that you realized where you were. You were only feet from that room with desk covered in candle wax and nails. You quickly turned away from that direction and buried your face in his sweater. Dakota’s eyes were wide with concern as you seemed to cower away. He looked around and saw nothing, “Babe, what’s wrong? What happened?” he asked trying not to panic.

“There’s a room over there, that Alex, Tanner, and I walked into earlier. It just scared me that’s all. I’m sorry Dakota,” you apologized and moved slightly away from him. He felt you move but pulled you right back. “You have nothing to be sorry for, I’ll protect you ok, you’re safe with me,” he reminded you. You just leaned toward him and rested your head on his shoulder. Letting him be your safe-guard. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on yours.

You sat there with him for who knows how long just trying to keep calm. Your body was exhausted and so after a certain amount of time you began to close your eyes. Your body was aching and your mind was foggy with sleep. Dakota noticed this and kissed your head softly. “I’m right here, try and get some sleep,” he whispered and you just nuzzled against his sweater.

What felt like seconds later a loud bang caused you to spring up and let out a scream. Dakota jumped as well, “What is that?” he asked nervously. He held tightly to your waist, making sure to not let go. “It almost sounds like a freakin’ drum,” he stated . You sat there with fear swimming your (e/c) eyes. Your heart was in your stomach at this point, knowing it had come from the direction of the room. “Hello,” Dakota called down into the dark hallway. “Dakota, don’t,” you said with a quiver in your voice. “Is there somebody down the-” he was cut off by the banging starting again. You felt tears spring to your eyes as you moved closer to the edge of the cot. You began to cry and covered your mouth tightly not wanting the sound to come out.

“What the fuck is that?” Dakota questioned quickly getting up from his spot. You quickly reached for his hand. “Dakota, stop,” you said louder this time. He could hear the shake in your voice and he paused. “Everything will be fine, I’ll be right back,” he told you before kissing your forehead. “Please don’t go over there,” you pleaded again. “I’ll be right back I promise,” he promised before grabbing the candle and his camera, and walking down the hallway.

Before you knew it another bang sounded and your boyfriend freaked out, “Oh my god, oh my god. It’s coming from this fucking room,” he said frantically. Your heart leapt into your throat as you called out to him. “Dakota!” you shouted. “I’m ok!” he called back and your heart slowed the slightest bit. You saw him open the door and just stand in the doorway for a few seconds. “Is there somebody in there?” he questioned before walking in. You shook your head, and shut your eyes tight not knowing what could be in there or not. You knew it wasn’t anything good, and that’s what scared you the most. But for the sake of your boyfriend you slowly got up and walked down the hallway. Your fear for his safety overcame your own as you entered the room. “Dakota,” you said softly and walked over to him. “It’s just like some kind of dormitory, let’s just go back to our sleeping arrangement,” he said and grabbed your hand before pulling you out of the room. You were thankful you didn’t stay in there long. He ushered you ahead of him and quickly got situated again, though you weren’t relaxed one bit, you were wide awake and horrified.

“I hate that it’s coming from down there too because that’s the only part I really can’t see anything.” Dakota explained. You hummed in agreement before tucking your legs to your chest and resting your head on your knees. “I don’t want to be here anymore,” you said quietly hoping no one would hear you. To your dismay your boyfriend heard you loud and clear. “It’s almost over, just a little bit longer and we can go,” he said and ran his fingers over you hair soothingly. Another bang sounds and you instantly let out a cry, your shoulders began to shake and you felt your boyfriend jump as well.

“Okay, fuck that, we’re out of here,” he said and grabbed his walkie. All you could do was sit there it’s like you were paralized by your fear. “We’re done, we’re actually done,” he said and moved to the edge of the cot. He put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him.

“Yo, Chelsea,” he walkied his sister. “Hello,” he got in response. You continued to shake in his arms, small cries coming from you every now and then. “Did you just like throw something on my building?” he asked her in a panic. “No, I’m sitting next to my candle in my bed I have not moved,” she answered him. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He placed his head on the back of your shoulder, “Don’t cry babe, it’s ok, we’ll be ok. It was just a noise, it’s ok, I’m here,” he comforted you and you reached up to grab his arm that rested around you. Desperate for that security he always provided.

“I don’t know what that was, that was a huge noise,” he said as he lifted his head. “Hello?” he called out once again and you sighed shakily. “I’m not even gonna go back down there, we’re both scared stiff,” he spoke.

You sat there in that position almost unmoving for quite some time, before he got you to lean on him again. Your eyes were red and puffy with slight mascara smudges underneath them. Nothing happened the rest of the night though both of you were on high alert until the sun came up.

“Let’s go babe, our time is up,” he said softly and kissed your cheek. You just nodded your head. You said nothing as you gathered your things and made your way out of the building. When the fresh air filled your lungs you took a deep breath and felt your shoulders relax when the sun hit your skin. You felt like that weight was lifted off of your shoulders. A small smile was placed on your lips as you saw your friends come out safe. Dakota looked over at you and smiled to himself. He was so proud of you, but he also knew there was a long way to go, to get you back to where you were before this. He knew it would take a while but he swore he would do anything to help.

You felt a kiss being placed on the back of your head and you smiled. “HI,” you said softly as you turned to face your boyfriend. “Hey, babe,” he said and reached up to hold your face in his hands. “You know, that I’m going to be here every step of the way right? I’m always-” you cut him off. “Going to take care of me, I know,” you said and rested your hands over his. He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, your arms slowly moved their way around his neck, effectively pulling him closer. He broke away from you and rested his forehead against yours. “I love you Dakota,” you said “I love you too (y/n),” he responded and kissed you one more time.

“Hey, what about us?!” you heard Tanner call. You pulled away and chuckled. You walked over to the group and opened your arms, they all walked over and wrapped you in a group hug. “I love you guys too, so so much,” you said. “We love you too (y/n),” they answered together. You chuckled at their unison.

You all pulled away and you smiled at them widely. “I never got to thank you for being here for me. I know I’ve been really messed up but you were patient with me and I can’t thank you enough for that,” you thanked your best friends. “We’ll always be here for you, and we know you’d be here for us just the same,” Tanner said.

“You know what, I think it’s time we wrap this up. Let’s go film our monologues and get the hell off of this Island,” you said and chuckled a bit. “Let’s go,” They all said and you went your separate ways.

You found a nice spot to sit and pulled out your camera to record.

“A location like this was definitely one to end on. You know, it really made me realize that leaning on the people you love for support isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Without them, I wouldn’t have been here, and honestly without them I don’t think I’d ever do this again. This was the most challenging road trip to date, and honestly, I’m proud of us all for making it. And if you’re wondering if our journey is over, believe me it’s far from it. This isn’t the end for me, I’ll see you next time. “

You finished your monologue and sighed heavily before getting up from your spot. Noticing that your boyfriend was still in the middle of his you went to stand by your friends. “I can’t wait to take a fucking nap,” you breathed out and everyone laughed out loud and agreed. “I think we all deserve it,” Chelsea said and you nodded your head. “Definitely,” Alex said and you smiled while leaning against him.

Dakota looked over at you and smiled at the sight of you with the group. You looked happy, and that was one of the best sights he could ever dream of seeing.

Looking at you he just knew that things would be ok. With the people you loved supporting you you’d heal.

---

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mountswhore · 2 years

Note

Maybe one where you at a funeral or something and you have something with Ben but no one knows and and you breakdown infront of everyone and he just goes to comfort you and doesn’t care everyone’s watching? X Deep Ino lol

𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞 — ben chilwell

summary: you and ben had been a secret for a while, hiding from friends and family. but when the death of your brother hits, you couldn’t hide it anymore.

warnings: mentions of death & blood, and a strategically placed ariana grande song.

notes: requests are open / also i know killing off y/n’s brother is so dark, but it’s for the fic.

You and Ben had been friends for a long time. Well, he was friends with your brother, Charlie. Regularly seeing him come over and spend time with your brother, whilst eyeing you up as you walked through to the kitchen. But who could forget the purposeful shorts you’d wear when Ben was waiting for your brother to come down?

It wasn’t long before the two of you were talking, in secret, of course. He’d come over more often, telling your brother it’s okay if he wanted to pop to the shops, or have a shower, it meant he could see you and kiss you, without having to hide it. He was tired of texting you, hiding his phone from your brother in case he saw a risqué text from ‘y/n❤️’.

It was weird when your brother found out you were dating, but even weirder to think that he’d pieced it together himself. You’d often disappear to a ‘friend’s house’, and when he’d text Ben to come over, Ben was busy. You’d get home, accidentally wearing Ben’s Chelsea coat, and your brother had questioned it, but you’d just brushed it off saying he let you borrow it when he was last round. He’d mentioned to the both of you that he knew, and you told him to take the secret to the grave. God knows how your families would react if they knew you were dating.

Now that he knew, Ben was open with showing affection, but kept it restricted when he was spending time with your brother. He didn’t want to ruin his friendship, nor did he want to ruin the relationship you had. And things were going well. The three of you had fun together, going to the movies, late night trips to Tesco, playing games together, you’d tightened the bond with your brother as well as progressed with Ben.

Until one night. Charlie had invited the two of you out to a party, but Ben wanted to stay in and watch a movie with you. You both thought nothing of it when

You’d woken up to blue lights flashing through your window, and Ben’s arm was holding you down onto the bed. You could faintly hear your mother crying, and it had completely startled you. Brushing Ben’s arm away from you, you’d peered outside to see an ambulance car. What on Earth was going on?

“Y/N,” Ben croaked, sitting up and brushing his hair from his face, eyes squinted as the blue lights kept flashing, “what’s going on?”

You hushed him, putting a finger to his lips and you climbed back onto the bed. “My parents don’t know you’re here, remember? I’ll find out, wait here.” Ben nodded as you left your room, tiptoeing down the stairs and alerting your parents of your presence.

Your mum was quick to hold you in her arms, police officers standing at the door. Solemn looks on their faces, you furrowed your brows as you tried to determine what was happening. Your mother, still weeping as she held you, kissed your head and sniffled.

“What’s going on?” You asked, trying to look through the crowd of officers to see the ambulance car.

“Your brother, Charlie, has been involved in a serious car accident,” the officer told you, your heart slamming against your chest, “he’s on route to the hospital now, and we’re here to alert you. He’s not a minor, so we don’t need a guardian present, but we’re here to transport you if you’d like to accompany him.”

“Of course we’d like to.” Your father stated, clearing his throat to eliminate the whimper and voice crack. He tried to remain strong but you could see right through him. “Y/N, you’ll be okay on your own? You can come with us if you want to."

“I’ll be okay.” You whispered, letting go of your mum as your parents collected their things, kissing your head as they left. You couldn’t stand, so you’d sat on the bottom step of your stairs, weeping into your hands, watching the blue lights disappear down the street.

Ben had been watching through the window, seeing your parents get into the ambulance car and drive away, meaning the coast was clear. He’d left your room, hearing your cries as you sat on the stairs. He couldn’t have been quicker as he ran down to you, holding you tight. He heard it all, you didn’t need to explain or talk, just cry onto him as he tried to process this situation.

It had been two days, and the verdict on your brother was still undecided. Your parents practically lived at the hospital when they weren't working, leaving you to cope by yourself at home. Ben was there, of course, but he couldn't always be. You wanted to let him cope however he feels necessary, but he wanted to stay with you. He'd always show up with snacks, or your favourite drink, whatever would at least put a smile on your face.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" You asked Ben, sitting in the passenger seat of his car as he'd picked you up. It was your weekend at his, your parents allowing it as you'd been suffering alone recently. Although, they didn't know you were at his home, they assumed you were at a friends.

"Yeah," Ben mumbled, reaching out to hold your thigh, squeezing it tightly, "it's Charlie, he always pulls through somehow." You nodded, this wasn't the first time he'd been in a dangerous situation. He'd do the wildest, riskiest things at parties, and somehow survive it all. "Honestly, I don't know what I would do if he doesn't."

"Me neither."

"Let's not let this get us down, it's our weekend to do exactly what we want to do. Without hiding." Ben tried to lighten the mood, but your brother's wellbeing still loomed over you like a dark cloud, the ache sat in the pit of your stomach and constantly made you aware of this presence.

You'd watched movies with Ben, gone shopping with him, relaxed in the garden, had lovely baths together, gone out for dinner. And yet through it all, your mind wasn't there. You had a horrible feeling about it all, it would darken whatever situation you were in. Your lovely weekend getaway hadn't been so lovely after all.

Ben had dropped you home, parking a safe walking distance away from your house, incase people were home. And you'd caught your mother on her way in. She didn't smile with her eyes anymore, there was a glint missing now.

"Hey, mum." You greeted her, dragging your suitcase into the house with you, "any news about Charlie?"

Your mom stopped in her tracks, hesitantly approaching you and holding you as she always did. Like she did the night of Charlie's accident. You knew something was wrong the entire weekend and you were right. It made your skin cold, it made you feel sick, the ache in your stomach once again proving it's presence.

"We got pictures of the car last night," she announced, sniffling gently, "it looked like it was folded in on itself. The police said they'd spoken to a few witnesses and it was a multiple car collision. He was driving down what he thought was an empty street, clearly intoxicated, and swerved out of the way of another car, crashing into both that car and a parked one."

Your chest felt heavy, you felt like sitting down and crying into your mother's arms, like a little girl again. This didn't sound like Charlie, this wasn't him. Sure, he was reckless. But he wasn't stupid. Your mum could feel your breathing quicken, and held you tight.

"We're going to the hospital tonight, maybe you should come with us." Your mum suggested, but you didn't want to see your brother in that state. So weak and hurt.

"No," you cried, almost choking on your own words, "I can't see him like that. I don't want to."

"It's your choice, sweetheart." Your mum held you close, the pair of you now sitting in your living room. "He'll be okay, our Charlie will be okay."

That night in bed, you'd ignored Ben's messages. Whenever he couldn't be with you, he'd ask to facetime, to make sure you were truly okay. But you'd turned your phone off and shoved it under your pillow. It left you to think about what life would be like without your brother. You'd always been close to him, as you were the only sibling the other had. Although you didn't share a lot of interests, you still managed to enjoy time together. But not having him in your life anymore would be unimaginable. He was always your big brother Charlie, the one you'd go to if someone at school was being mean, or if you needed a lift, or needed a few quid.

It was now eight in the morning, and your sleep was atrocious. Your face was still warm from crying, you were sweaty, and now you were feeling sick again. Remembering that Charlie was quite literally on his death bed. It made for another painfully slow day.

I'm so sorry for ignoring you last night, I needed some time alone, you texted Ben.

Don't apologise, I'm always going to be here, he had replied. And your heart lifted slightly, and quickly dropped again. It felt criminal to smile whilst your brother was still in hospital.

Maybe we can go out for some brunch? You texted back, deciding to skip breakfast, and focus on getting ready.

Sounds good.

You had gotten out of the shower, the horribly sweaty feeling now gone. You felt fresh, clean, ready to start your day and push through the horrible feeling. Until your phone starting ringing, and it was your mum. Your hands shakily picked up the phone, knowing this was either bad or good news.

"Hello?" You spoke, putting the phone on speaker so you could brush your hair.

"Hello, stupid." Your brother spoke, and you almost fell down in shock. You could hear his voice, painful, but you could hear it nonetheless.

"Charlie? Oh my God," you breathed, sitting on your beat with a grin on your face, "you have no idea how happy I am to hear you call me stupid." The pair of you laughed and you felt weightless for a moment

"I'm okay," Charlie remarked, "I have mum's phone whilst she's getting the hospital food, it's horrible."

"I bet."

"How's your secret?" Charlie wondered, and you could hear the smirk on his face. He's still beaming with pride that he figured it out.

"We're doing good, we just miss hanging out with you." You admitted, wanting nothing more than the three of you to hang out again. Even if it was the two of them playing football, and you aimlessly kicking it onto the crossbar. Cheering about your luck.

"I don't, you guys are always kissing and holding each other," Charlie joked, even making you laugh, "so gross."

"We don't do that around you for that reason entirely."

"I'm kidding," his voice quietened, and you could hear the pain he was in, "of course I miss spending time with you, I am so sorry for getting into this stupid mess. I should've thought about mum, dad, and you before I got into that car."

"What matters now is that you're recovering, don't apologise for what's done. I'll come visit you when you're doing better," you told him, squeezing your eyes shut to ignore the tears forming, "I promise."

"Holding you to that, stupid. See you."

"See you." Ending the call, you sighed heavily, remembering you had a brunch date with Ben soon. So you'd focused on getting ready, excitement still bubbling in your stomach after talking to your brother.

"You look lovely," Ben complimented you as you'd stepped out of your house, "where to?"

"The café."

Paolo's café was a place you'd been coming to for years, with your family. And you and Charlie had only just introduced Ben to it. It was a small building, hidden between houses, and only a small seating area. The ladies that worked there were lovely, always so sweet to you and your family. You'd enjoyed many early breakfasts with your family here, enjoyed chips after a rainy school day, and now, you were enjoying some jacket potatoes across from Ben.

"I love this place," you hummed, scooping some mash, accompanied with beans, into your mouth. Ben laughed at you, grabbing a napkin to wipe your face, before smoothing his thumb over your jaw. He knew how stressed you'd been lately, even if you were hiding it. He knew you'd struggled to sleep when you were at his for the weekend, and even pretend to sleep when Ben would stir.

"Me too," Ben agreed, digging back into his potato. The two of you enjoyed the food, the comfortable silence, before hitting the cold November air once again. "Where to now?"

"Would it be rude to ask to stay at yours tonight?" You turned to face your boyfriend, looking up at him as he zipped your coat. "I really don't want to be on my own again," you admitted, his hands now holding your face, smiling down at you, "I spoke to him today."

"Really?" Ben's eyes widened as you walked back to his car, holding onto the handle and waiting to hear the familiar unlocking sound. You'd gotten into the car, the warmth from the heater still hugging you, and Ben had shortly followed suit.

There was a brief silence, where you were gathering thoughts, Ben was waiting for you to say something. "He said he was sorry for doing what he did, and that he missed us. He was cracking jokes, but I knew he was in pain. And I told him I'd see him when he's feeling better."

Ben smiled, clutching your hands and completely facing you. "I told you, that man always pulls through. And he's going to be in pain, he's just been in an accident. He'll be okay, sweetheart, I promise." You nodded, finally believing that statement. He'll be okay.

You'd had a brilliant day with Ben, he'd completely taken your mind away from Charlie and his pain. Ben was adamant on taking you shopping, the pair of you laughing as you chased each other down the isles of Wilko's. And finally, you were home and ready to order some food. It was getting dark, it had been since 4pm, and whilst Ben ordered food, you'd gotten comfy on his couch.

For the first time in days, you'd managed to sleep wonderfully. You didn't have any lingering thoughts before bed, you just enjoyed the intimacy with your boyfriend before you were out. And it had gotten to two in the morning, when your phone had started ringing. Who on Earth was calling this early?

"Mum? What's up?" You asked quietly, hoping not to wake Ben. But it was no use, he was sat up with you and drawing patterns on your thigh.

"Charlie has passed."

"What?" You whimpered, swallowing all the pain and loss you were about to feel. "But he was doing so well."

"He was in a lot of pain, sweetheart. His body had given up." Your mum spoke, through her own tears. You could hear the faint beeps and voices of the hospital in the background. You were trying to focus on everything but this news. Your only brother, your first best friend, he was gone.

You had ended the call, your hands dropping the phone into your lap and hiding your face. Ben had reached his arms round to hold you close, assuming the news of Charlie. He couldn't do anything but hush your cries, sway you back to sleep as you sobbed for your brother.

"He's gone." You wailed, not caring for the potential noise complaints of Ben's neighbours, you were mourning your brother. It hit you hard. "He was doing well, he was okay. We were laughing together."

"I know, sweetheart. It's going to hurt." Ben comforted you, as he could feel his voice faltering. His best friend, the man who he'd been close to growing up, the man who's introduced him to you, the love of his life. He was gone now.

It was a sleepless night. Even after your crying had died down, you kept your head in Ben's lap and laid there, silently suffering as the memories forcibly played in your head. Charlie teaching you football tricks, Charlie taking you to Paolo's café after school every friday, Charlie taking care of you in school. No more of that. There would be no Uncle Charlie in the future, no nieces or nephews to look after, no more of Charlie's weirdly specific birthday presents. It was all gone. Your brother was gone.

Shortly after that night, it was impossible to get you out of your room. Your mum and dad leaving dinner outside your door, which you'd take a few bites from. Ben's constant invites to his house, or the café, or to see his Chelsea friends. You liked his Chelsea friends, Mason was nothing but kind with you, but why would you want to see them?

It took all of you not to open Charlie's door. To pretend you were on your way to annoy him, but you weren't. You were trying to fill the Charlie-sized hole in your heart. The house was darker, nobody really laughed or smiled anymore. It felt illegal. To be enjoying your life whilst your brother was dead.

You rarely texted Ben anymore, only responding to his messages. He'd come round previously, dropping some flowers to your mum and offering his condolences. He'd come upstairs to just check on you, and your parents thought nothing of it. They knew the three of you were like peas in a pod. You'd cried into his arms and he'd held you once again, not knowing what to say. He hadn't even gotten over his friends death, God knows how you'd get over your brothers death.

There was only one occasion you'd been left alone in the house, and you'd invited Ben over. To keep you from insanity. And you'd left your room for the first time in a long time, your head snapping over to Charlie's door. You'd give anything to hear a yell of frustration after losing a FIFA match, but it was painfully quiet. Your feet were padding over to his door, opening it and seeing everything how he left it.

Nobody came in here, nobody had the strength to. But his bed was messed, his closed strewn on the ground, his controller still on his pillow, along with his headset. His shoes tipped over as he'd pulled them off, leaving them in a mess beside his bed, an empty mug on his bedside, a pile of laundry he'd never gotten round to folding, that your mum was always asking to be done.

You didn't realise that you were now a sobbing mess on his floor, slamming your fists onto the carpet and choking on your tears. You were crying for your brother to be okay, to come home, to be alive. Ben had arrived, bolting up the stairs and following your cries, and pulling you out of Charlie's room.

"Hey, it's okay." He whispered into your hair, holding you against him whilst shutting the door. "Why were you in there, Y/N?" He looked down at you, but you wouldn't meet his eyes, you were still sobbing uncontrollably.

"I want my brother back."

"I know, sweetheart," he sighed, smoothing your hair down as he pulled you away from Charlie's room, "me too. I miss him everyday."

Almost two months had passed, and you were finally holding a funeral for your brother. It hurt to finally leave your house, the sun being brighter than the artificial lights you'd gotten used to at home. You'd found yourself an outfit, bringing the bag home and shoving it into your wardrobe, to be forgotten about until the day. November 23rd.

Ben had offered to drive you all, and your parents agreed. He watched from the driver's seat as the three of you left the house, noticing your sickly frame. You had barely eaten, and your beautiful skin that was once full of colour, had now been dulled.

Following slowly behind the hearse, it was uncomfortable seeing the casket in front of you. You were sat in the passenger's seat, not even able to hold Ben's hand for support, as your parents were behind you. But you'd arrived to the crematorium, and had to greet relatives and friend's of Charlie's with a false smile. Ben stuck with you, careful not to show any more affection than a sympathetic hug.

With the ceremony now over, the wake was being held at home. Your mum had bought some refreshments, preparing food the night before. She made the house look lovely, scattered around were pictures of you and your brother, his trophies, his personalised shirts, memorabilia that wasn't in his room.

You slowly made your way around the house, trying to avoid people who hadn't yet offered their apologies. Ben had caught you, holding your arm to stop you from pacing.

"You're gonna knock yourself out," Ben warned, a small smile to his lips as he looked down at you.

"Sorry," you mumbled, shaking his arm away to prevent unwanted conversations with family members, instead focusing on Ben's suit. He looked mighty in it, his fluffy hair still as adorable as ever.

You were finally stood still, and it was awkward. You had nothing to focus on, and your eyes were sliding over to his name on his shirt on the wall, your heart shattering once again. You assumed you had no tears left to cry, but the moment your eyes fell onto a picture of the two of you, that's when you'd broken down again. It was the both of you standing on your front door step, both of you dressed as Buzz and Woody, and you remember the fight that had ensued moments before that, fighting over who got to be Woody. Of course, he let you. That was Charlie.

"Hey," Ben consoled you, fighting every urge to kiss you better, but you were surrounded by hundreds of family and friends, "it's alright, come here." Ben had held you against him, surely nobody would think anything of a friendly hug? But looking down at you, seeing the tears in your eyes as you looked up at him, asking for a release from this pain, Ben no longer cared. He didn't care to hide your relationship away, he wanted to hold you and kiss you and be able to love you in front of everyone.

He'd kissed you, in the corner of the living room, surrounded by grieving relatives. And you loved it. You needed it. You needed Ben's love and affection more than ever.

"I love you," he whispered down to you, holding your face close to his, and you were taken aback, "I love you more everyday, and I can't hold it all in. It was supposed to be more romantic than this, but I needed to tell you now."

"I love you too," you had silenced him, revealing the words back. You had for a while, since he took on the role of comforting you, as well as grieving himself, as well as continuing to work and appear in public. "If only Charlie were here now, he'd be telling us to get a room."

Ben laughed with you, and for the first time, it didn't feel criminal. It felt okay. Charlie was telling you it was okay to laugh, it was okay to be happy even when he's gone. You had Ben, and Ben was your piece of Charlie that you'd have forever.

#ben chilwell request #ben chilwell blurb #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell #chilly #ben chilwell oneshot #ben chilwell angst

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judeswhore · 3 years

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Hey bestie, can you do a mason one , where wren doesn’t want him to leave and start crying and him confort her . Love you ❤️❤️

writing abt mason and wren is always my favourite bc dad!mason makes me so soft

daddy’s girl - mason mount

Mason was packing his overnight bag in the living room, gaze shifting between the task at hand and where you were standing in the kitchen, focus entirely on the little sandwiches you were making for Wren to take to school. You were still half asleep, eyes heavy lidded and Mason wanted nothing more than to call the Chelsea team and tell them he couldn’t make the next two days just so he could spend the day tucked into bed with you and your daughter. He’d even suffer through Tangled again if it meant being together.

The little girl in question was yet to come down the stairs from her bedroom and the fact she hadn’t come rushing down at the smell of the pancakes Mason had made had him feeling a little concerned. He zipped up his duffel and pushed himself off the sofa, brows tugged together.

“Has Wren gone back to sleep?” He asked you, body leant against the door frame to the kitchen. You matched his frown and shook your head.

“No, she was brushing her teeth. Go see what she’s doing?” Mason hummed in reply and after pressing a kiss against your head went in search of his four year old. He found her sitting on the floor of her bedroom, baby blanket that he’s certain needs disinfecting clutched to her chest, an evident pout on her lips.

“What’s wrong with this face, grumpy pants?” He stepped into the yellow bedroom, careful to avoid standing on any of the toys Wren had left out and tilted his head at her.

“You’re going away again.” She mumbled, glaring down at the floor and Mason’s heart squeezed uncomfortably at the sadness in her voice. He always hated travelling when it was just the two of you but having Wren made everyone one hundred times harder because he never wanted to spend time away from her. He wanted to be there all the time for anything she ever needed.

“Only for two days.” He watched the way her bottom lip wobbled and crouched down next to her, fingers brushing over her cheek.

“I don’t want you to go.” The tears came hard and fast and they made the backs of Mason’s eyes sting too. He dropped himself completely to the floor and pulled Wren into his lap, arms wrapped tightly around her.

“Baby.” He brushed his hand over the top of her head, cradling her to his chest as she sobbed into his shirt. “Hey, you don’t need to cry, I’m gonna be back before you know it.” Mason felt her shake her head and she sniffled loudly.

“No, I want you to stay now, I don’t want you to keep going away. I want you to take me to school every day.” Wren had her little fingers clutched tightly in Mason’s shirt and he could feel the way her tears soaked through the material.

“I promise I’ll take you to school when I’m back. And we can go for ice cream and to see Nana and Grandad and I’ll even let you stay up late to watch cartoons.” Mason was brushing his fingers through the soft strands of her hair, his lips pressed against the top of her head. Wren hiccuped softly, face smushing further into his chest.

“I hate it when you go away.”

“I know, baby, I hate it too. I miss you so much when I’m not here but it flies by and then I’m back and we can make cakes and annoy mummy by messing up her kitchen.” Mason gently coaxed Wren’s face out from his chest and brushed his thumbs under her eyes to wipe away the tears. Her eyes so much like his were bright and still shining with unshed tears and Mason hated the fact that he was the reason she was upset.

“Why can’t you stay home?”

“Because I have to go to work, princess. But it’s only two days. I’ll be home on Friday and it’ll be like I never left.” Wren’s little red school uniform was slightly crumpled and Mason tried to straighten it out, smile tugging at his lips at just how grown up she was now. “God, you’re getting so big.”

“Will you get me from school on Friday?”

“Of course. I’ll be the first one waiting at the gates.” She nodded her head, eyes turned down on her blanket and Mason sighed softly. “Come here.” He opened his arms again and Wren turned to wrap her own arms around his neck, her face buried in his shoulder. Mason held one hand against her back, the other on her head and gently rocked her back back and forth.

“I love you so much, Wren. More than anything in the world and I know I have to go away a lot but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss you when I’m gone. I’m gonna facetime you whenever I can and you can even see Uncle Ben.” He felt her nod, her arms tightening around him.

“I love you.” She pulled back to press a wet kiss against his cheek and Mason beamed at her, brushing her hair back off her face. “Can you take me to school today?” Wren gave him her best puppy dog eyes, a look he knew she got from you, and he was suddenly nodding despite the fact he knew he’d end up being late. Nothing else mattered when he needed to make sure his family were okay.

“You can even sit in the front seat.”

#england nt #chelsea fc #football #football imagine #money mase #mason mount #mason mount fluff #mason mount fanfic #mason mount one shot #mason mount fic #mason mount blurbs #mason mount blurb #mason mount imagines #mason mount imagine #mason mount x reader

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maseshine · 3 years

Note

can i please be cheeky and request "You being the ex-girlfriend who still keeps in touch with your friends and him thinking you’re an obsessive ex" with mason mount please? thankyouuu! love your writing!xx

Ex, Mason Mount

Prompt: You being the ex-girlfriend who still keeps in touch with your friends and him thinking you're an obsessive ex.

Warning: mini fight, angst

Words: 666

Notes: Okay, I really don't imagine Mason making such a coarse sense, but as it's an imagine let's face it, I'm finally back and I'm sorry it took so long to deliver all the requests, I hope you like it🤍😊

Author's Note: I know a lot of people write with the use of quotes, but I'm used to using the dash, so I hope it's not a problem.

You've always been a communicative and friendly person, so it wasn't too much of a surprise to be friends with your ex-boyfriends' friends. Not that you had many.

Your first date lasted from fifteen to seventeen years, the typical high school dating that didn't hold up due to different college choices, the friendship between you, your ex and friends continued without any problems, everyone knew each other for years, and they chose to prevail friendship.

Your second date was longer, you met Mason at age eighteen, the relationship started right after you met him at a pub where you were celebrating your best friend's birthday, it didn't take long for you to meet all of Mason's best friends and club mates.

They all got along great with you and vice versa, so none of them stopped talking to you when they heard about the breakup days after Mason's twenty-two birthday party.

Which led to the current situation you found yourself in, the Chelsea boys were celebrating their victory after the game at Christian's house, you watched the game at the stadium with Mia and Leah, after all you were friends. So, right away, you were on your way to the midfielder's house for the celebration.

All the players knew you were going, after all, there wasn't a celebration you weren't invited to, it definitely didn't please Mason, the way he's been behaving since you arrived made it very clear to everyone, what was getting incredibly uncomfortable for you, not to mention the ironic looks the girl who accompanied you was sending you.

You did your best to concentrate on the conversation you were having with the boys and ignore both Mason and his new girl, excusing everyone, you walked towards the hallway of the guest bathroom, it wasn't the first time you visited the house from Chris, spending a few minutes in front of the mirror you soon came face to face with Mason.

━ Oh! Hi Mason. ━ You greeted him politely, a thin smile plastered on your lips.

━ What are you doing here? ━ It was the direct question asked by shirt 19.

━ Chris invited me. I didn't see any problems in coming, after all we are friends. ━ he explained with a shrug.

━ Really? I never thought you were the obsessive ex type! We've been done for months, Y/N. You need to get over it. ━ Mason spoke almost aggressively making you take a step back.

━ I'm not here for you, Mason. I'm here because Chris and the boys invited me, like I said we're all friends! We ended our relationship, but I'm not going to end my friendship with them because you don't like it. ━ his speech came out calmly.

━ Are you staying with one of them? That would explain why they are so friendly to you. ━ You were surprised by your speech full of venom, your eyes opening slightly. ━ I believe Sarah is right, you only dated me out of interest, you're just a...

━ Shut your mouth! You're an idiot, Mount! I spent three years of my life by your side and all I did was support you in good times and bad, I won't let you insult me for free. I dated you because I loved you, because you were just you, but I wasn't enough for Chelsea's golden boy, you broke up with me using some pathetic excuse and I took it all in no drama, so don't come play now my face what is a lie. I really hope you are happy, and from today I will make sure not to cross your path.

Your eyes burned from the accumulated tears and all you did was walk quickly out of the hallway and walk past everyone in the room to get your bag and coat, you heard Christian's calls, but didn't give him time to catch up with you as he got into the car. And get out of your house.

You just wanted to cry in peace and alone.

#football #chelsea fc #football imagine #london #footballer #premier league #christian pulisic #mason mount #masonmountimagine #imagine #angst #mason x reader

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footballffbarbiex · 3 years

Text

Just Peachy.

Player: Ben Chilwell Words: 837 Request: Let's say you bang your shin on something obvious like a dishwasher and Chilly is a very attentive sweet thing but also a smartass about it. Can be you/your or she/her, whichever feels better. Happy birthdaaaaayyyyyy Warnings: Mentions of bruising, mentions of hurting as described in the request.

Ben’s sitting in the lounge, feet up, drink in hand as he watches the screen. With his head turned slightly so he can continue listening to his girlfriend as she finishes loading the dishwasher, she complains about her day.

Usually, he loves hearing about the dramas of the workplace. Usually, he’d curl his legs beneath him, hands wrapped around his cup as he devotes himself to listening to who is sleeping with who, who is cheating on who, and who is being a shady bitch but right now, his attention is on the game in front of him. He needs them to lose in order for Chelsea to stay at the top of the table. There’s been too many fluctuations in the last few games with the top spot changing with each new game played, he’s been feeling a little nervous.

“- but everyone knows he’s only getting this job because he’s been up her ass for the past few months, unable to say no. We could all see it coming.”

“Oh really,” Ben throws out there, not taking in much of what she’s saying but hoping it was appropriate per the conversation. Pulling his legs down, Ben sits forward, elbows on his knees momentarily before he’s almost on his feet at a near goal, slumping back down onto the sofa with his head in his hands at the relief.

“- and if he does get the promotion, I'm telling you now, there’ll be riots in the office.”

“Yeah that sounds fair.” He mutters, shaking his head and leaning to the side as though it’ll help him to see something off camera a little better. “no way, get up. He didn’t touch him. Diving bast-”

His words are cut short by the sound of a hard thud, plates shaking and her cussing loudly. Momentarily conflicted by wanting to see how the game plays out and seeing if his girlfriend is ok, Ben hesitates before deciding the match will play out regardless of him watching and her cussing is getting louder. He’s quick but calm, making his way over to where she is. She’s holding onto the side with one hand, the other gripping her shin as she doubles over, a long steady stream of breath.

“Someone wasn’t watching where they were going…” he says in a singsong voice, only to regret it when she shoots him a scathing look.

He doesn’t need to ask what she’s done. She always does this. At least once a week, twice a week if clumsy, and like today, making it three times if she’s too busy ranting about something to pay real attention. If she’s lucky, she’ll knock it on the other side, if not, she’s adding to the already darkening bruise. From the way she grips her leg, Ben can’t tell which side it is.

“I can tell you’re not, but I’m gonna ask if you’re ok anyway.”

She looks up and gives him a tight-lipped smile before gritting her teeth and saying, “oh yeah. Just peachy.”

“Can I see?” He asks in a softer tone, not moving until she gives a small nod and turns to face him. He can see she’s biting on her lip to try and hold off crying. Ben lowers to his knees, scoots forward until he’s before her and gently tugs up her bottoms until they’re sitting on her knee. The ugly bruise that had taken form earlier on the in week is unmissable. Redness is edging up away from it, as though she caught the side of the dishwasher door in the middle and leading up away towards the other side of her shin. With it now already leaving a mark, whether it’ll turn into anything more only time will tell.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” He asks, thumb stroking over her skin near to the area but not quite where it hurts, not wanting to add any additional pain. She gives a small nod but resembles a toddler trying their best to appear brave for their parent. “Oh baby, come here.” He chuckles as he gets to his feet. She moves automatically into his arms and he quickly feels his shirt dampen as the tears she’d tried to hold back escapes.

“I should have helped, huh?” He says, realising now that he had said ‘yeah just give me a minute babe,’ more than a few times until she just started it without him. “I’m sorry.” He sways her body as he holds onto her a little more, lips pressing to her hair until she can feel it.

“You always tell me off for not paying attention.”

“Yeah but Tom gets to you.”

“Damn that man,” she gives another little sob as she tries a laugh.

“I’m telling you now. If you get another bruised this time from that man, I’ll go to your office and riot.”

“You were paying attention after all!” She giggles and digs her fingers into his ribs. “Just wait until I tell you what happened with Rachel though…”

If you’d like to be added/removed from my tag list, please let me know here

Ben Chilwell: @bluemoonstonesy

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell one shot #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell blurb #ben chilwell drabble #ben chilwell fanfic #ben chilwell fanfiction #football one shot #football imagine #football blurb #football drabble #football fanfic #football fanfiction #footballer one shot #footballer imagine #footballer blurb #footballer drabble #footballer fanfic #footballer fanfiction

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jjkpls · 3 years

Text

the wishlist (m) - 6 (final)

“Was it worth it?”

> genre : smut, angst, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> words : 15k (ugh sorry)

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

previous - masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Look, who's here!"

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

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

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

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

Why would you fall for Park Jimin?

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

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

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

"Useless Jungkook could never!"

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

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

What the actual fuck?

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

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

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

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

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

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

That would never work.

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

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

Now you really need to get drunk.

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

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

Everything he does.

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

Sort of.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're on the verge of tears.

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

Why?

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

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

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

Of course, you'd call him.

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

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

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

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

"No fun at all."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The app says what?"

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

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

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

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

"What does the message say?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Junggoo-"

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

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

That's a lie.

It makes you groan. Asshole, asshole, asshole.

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

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

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

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

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

"You just said that!"

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

"Oh." Makes more sense.

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

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

"Fucking invite me then."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How are you supposed to fucking do that?

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

"For fuck's sake!"

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

Why doesn't it mortify you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're lying."

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

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

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

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

"This one sucks ass."

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

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

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

"Am not, you are."

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

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

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

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

"Then what is it that you want?"

"Told you."

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

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

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

"Your stupid toy."

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

"Never told you to buy it."

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

"It stabbed me!" You accuse, petty.

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

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

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

"See?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So is-"

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

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

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

"It sucks."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's what I heard though."

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

Oh. My God.

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

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

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

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

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

The second wave hits. "Oh- God."

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

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

"Are you okay?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You don't sound fine."

"But I am."

"How much did you drink?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wait-"

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

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

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

"Uh?"

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

Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's not."

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

"It is."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What? Why not?"

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

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

Fuck.

You are doomed.

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

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

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

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

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

"I think so..."

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

"Why would you stay?"

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

"There's an option for that?"

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

"Sounds like high tech."

"Yep."

"Sounds expensive as hell."

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

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

"But if you stay-"

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

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

"But maybe you'll forget about it?"

"Jungkook."

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

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

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

"Do you want to?"

"Uh?"

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

"Oh."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, indeed."

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

"Your whole existence is awkward."

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

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

"You put your earbuds on."

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

Fine.

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

"Put the thing on."

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

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

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

"Oh. Do you now?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you still dressed?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes. Yes, I can. Sorry."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Jungkook-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What are you talking about?"

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

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

Feels better. The thunderstorm is gone.

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

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

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

"You sure?"

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

"Alright."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Doesn't seem to be taking you seriously.

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

"No."

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

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

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

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

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

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