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#i also like to imagine that they just hang out at one of their places after they finish and gossip abt their friends
nyxronomicon · 2 days
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no, cause you're absolutely right with your tags. i too put that thought in the bag of dark thoughts that i should never open but i thought of you and said there is always someone who will be able to understand me lskdk and your tags,,, nodding fervently at your tags because i don't see him as a stepbro cause i love the age difference too lol but
i love love love love the idea of him coming into your room at night and waking you up with his fingers inside you and the bulge in his pajama pants pressing from behind. I also imagine him sitting on the couch when it's just you two, he invites you to join him to watch the game or something and it ends in him cockwarming you while playing with your nipples, you can't do anything but take it and feel it throb inside you until he finally cums inside you, but you have to do it fast before your mom/brother (choso maybe megumi) gets home from work <3 so the idea of being caught is very attractive to me
Sigh... *opens dark fantasies filing cabinet and pulls out stepdad Toji folder*
omg you did this on purpose... cockwarming while he plays with your tits??? my WEAKNESS and you added the risk of getting caught RIP RIP RIP i'm DEAD .... i'm sorry... i'm sorry for the sins... my pussy wrote this i swear...
cw: !! DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT !!, stepdad!Toji x f!reader, reader is university age, age difference, dub-con (coercion & implied somno), reader has major daddy issues, reader is touch/attention-starved, corruption, pussyjob, cockwarming, praise, titplay, risk of getting caught, slight edging, size (emphasis on Toji's big dick) pet names: princess, angel, good girl, reader is referred to as "step-daughter" but not as a pet name lol 2.2k sinful, sinful words
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Your mother didn't even tell you she remarried. You got home from college for the summer to find a stranger and his son living at her place. You were resistant to the whole idea, but she made you promise to give them a chance and spend time with them. They were family now, after all.
Megumi was just a year older than you. He had one more year of university before graduation, so he was in a similar situation as you. You thought maybe you could bond about it, but he wasn't very talkative and showed more interest in his video games than you.
Your new stepdad... Toji Fushiguro. You didn't even know where to start with your thoughts on him. He was sleazy, shameless, and a little more friendly than you'd like. You couldn't really figure out what he did for work, and to be honest, you wouldn't be surprised if he didn't do anything. Your mom was a chronic workaholic, constantly gone on work trips and spending late hours at the office. She could easily support the three of you on her own.
There was another thought about him that clawed at the back of your mind. The one you immediately compartmentalized, the forbidden knowledge that once fully synthesized in your mind, you wouldn't be able to erase. It remained in a little bottle, threatening to shatter every time your stepfather got home from the gym. Or took you out to dinner. Or watched a movie with you.
You tried to include Megumi as much as possible at first, if only you have a buffer. Hanging out alone with Toji felt weird. It felt wrong, though you couldn't quite pin why. But Megumi was entirely disinterested in spending time with his dad, and only marginally more interested in getting to know his new stepsister.
After a couple of months of getting used to Toji, you were starting to notice things you liked about him. He was actually there for you, for one. Your mother was never around and in the past, and she never kept a man around long enough for you to have any kind of father figure. It was just you and her, but more often than not, it was really just you. You didn't realize how lonely you were at home but with him here, at least you had someone to talk to.
You let his sleazy comments slide. The few times you'd gone out with friends, he made sure to tell you how sexy you looked. And when you got home, he grilled you on if there were any guys you had an eye on. It always flustered you, reminding you of the forbidden thought trapped in that bottle. But as long as you didn't think about it too hard, it would stay bottled up, where it should be.
You hated to admit that your mother was right. That you liked your new stepdad after giving him a chance. You liked the banter, and he was always complimenting you. He made you feel good about yourself. So in turn, you let him get away with more. When you'd watch TV with him at home, you started cuddling with him. He was warm, comforting. Maybe you were a little old to be cuddling with your stepdad, but he smelled so nice and you always wondered what it would be like.
Your mom was at a conference. Megumi was gaming in the other room. It was like any other night, and you and Toji would be left alone as usual. You were half asleep, cuddled up to his chest, when you felt a hand on your breast. It took a second to process, your gaze suddenly shooting up to your stepdad, who froze in place.
"Oh," he smiled sheepishly. "Still awake, huh?" He whispered.
Your mind instantly replayed the number of times you'd innocently fallen asleep like this, only to wake up horny and wet. He was always sleeping himself, but surely he wasn't so brazen that he made a habit of groping you, his step-daughter, while you slept.
"What are you doing?" You whispered back, glancing at Megumi's door, which was open just a crack. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but his hand remained on your tit.
Toji pouted a little, gazing down at you. He knew it was wrong but he always had a weakness for naive college girls. "Sorry, your mother has been gone so much lately, I'm a little... pent up." His finger lightly brushed over your nipple, sending pleasure up your spine.
"Toji, we can't..." You whispered, though you made no motions to stop him. It felt good. He smelled divine. The living room was dark, only lit by the glow of the TV screen. Megumi could emerge from his room any minute and that only made this hotter.
"I know, I know." He agreed with you, but his fingers kept kneading your breast. "I just really like spending time with you. I wanted to take it a little further. Make you feel good." Heat flooded your body. You were sure if he could see your expression, he'd know about the dark thought threatening to take over.
You and your mother had the same taste in men. Admittedly you'd always been fixated on older men, maybe trying to fill the void the lack of a father had. But he filled that void perfectly. The reason it felt weird to spend time with him was because you wanted this. You wanted him to touch you and praise you. And you wanted more.
"I'll stop if you want me to." He added. It was too late, the desire in your body burning a hole in your innocence. The buried feelings you had for him shattered that tiny bottle. You wanted to fuck your stepdad.
Your face felt hot. You looked at the TV, playing sports highlights that you couldn't care less about. The sound was loud enough that you couldn't hear the clacking on Megumi's keyboard. And the sinful thought that entered your mind was that Megumi couldn't hear anything happening in here, either.
"No..." your voice was nearly silent. "Don't stop."
His eyes widened for a moment, movements paused. "Oh?" The empathetic smile on his face was replaced with one of a predator. The man could have torn himself away from you a moment ago but now? Even if you changed your mind he'd be playing those words in his head over and over until he could coerce them from your lips again. "You sure?" He added, in an attempt to appear more respectful than he intended to be.
The glow of the TV highlighted your features as you looked back at him. Your eyes were big and soft, like you were on the verge of taking back the permission you just gave him. Before you could say a word, his free hand tilted your chin, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. All the while, he massaged your breast again, your body melted against his.
"It's ok, princess. Just say the word and I'll stop." His voice was sensual, a soft murmur in your ear before his lips pressed to your neck. Shivers ran up your spine and you arched your back, giving him easier access to your collarbone.
It felt so good. His undivided attention, his touch, it was like a drug that you couldn't get enough of.
You knew you should tell him to stop as he tugged you onto his lap. You straddled his thick thighs, feeling his bulge against your clothed cunt. You knew how wrong it was for you to let him lift your top. The feeling of the forbidden pleasure coursed through you as he peppered kisses on your breasts. He was married to your mother. Thoughts of her long erased by his lips wrapping around your nipple. His tongue flicked the bud as your breathing became unsteady. He had a kid your age. But Toji Fushiguro doted on you, his son in the other room nearly forgotten as his thick fingers felt your pussy through the thin pajama shorts you wore.
Finally, finally you were the favorite. His fingers pushed your shorts and panties aside, sliding his cock into the space between the fabric and your wet cunt. It didn't matter that your mother ignored you in favor of the revolving door of your her lovers anymore. His thick girth was nestled perfectly between your pussy lips. You didn't need to grasp at straws trying to relate to your uninterested stepbrother. Toji's tip danced at your entrance, making you tingle with anticipation as you let yourself drown in his affection.
"So fuckin' sexy..." He mumbled against your breast. The praise nearly made you whimper, glancing at Megumi's cracked door as you bit your lip. "Wanna do me a favor?"
Words still escaped you, meeting his gaze with a shy nod of your head. It was almost cute, as if you were trying to play up the innocent act. Toji wanted nothing more than to flip you on your back and fuck you mercilessly on the couch until you were screaming his name. Get you to admit you'd been flirting and leading him on this whole time. After all, what kind of a slut shows this much interest in her stepdad? But with Megumi in the other room, he needed you quiet. And he knew just the perfect way to tease you.
"Just want you wrapped around me for a minute." He pushed his hips up so you could feel his cock sliding in your folds.
"Toji, we..." you trailed off a moment, considering how desperately you wanted to say yes. Your eyes were on Megumi's door again, dreading the idea that he could get up at any moment and find the two of you like this. "We shouldn't." You whispered.
"It's not sex." His hands were on your ass, encouraging you to grind against his dick. Your body moved with a mind of its own, the friction adding to the heat bubbling in your core. "Just a little cockwarming. It's no big deal."
"I don't know..." You knew there were reasons to say no but none of them came to mind anymore. You were so needy and horny and you felt yourself melting into every touch.
"It'll feel good. Don't you want to feel good?" He pressed his lips to your ear, whispering softly. His finger found your clit, toying with the sensitive bud as you rolled your hips against him.
You didn't answer, freezing up while pleasure coursed through you. Your cunt ached, desperate to be filled with him. You buried your face in his neck, panting as you whined silently in response.
"C'mon, princess." He fingered you faster, a sadistic grin spreading on his face. You were close. He could tell you were close from how fucking wet you were. Even his balls were soaked. "You want me to stop?" He slowed his ministrations, watching your reaction carefully.
"Don't stop." You immediately murmured. Your core frustratingly teetered on edge, frowning at your stepfather for toying with you like this. "Fuck," you moaned softly, careful to remain as silent as possible. You'd had sex before but college boys were nothing compared to him. You'd never ever wanted someone so bad. "I wanna cockwarm you..."
"Good girl." Toji grinned, and the praise went straight to your cunt. He lined himself up, your natural slick more than enough lubrication despite his size. It was a tight fit, he slowly eased your hips down until he bottomed out with a groan. "So good for me... my perfect angel..." admiration dripped from his lips.
The praise alone was enough for your pussy to flutter around him. Your back arched, a lewd expression on your face as your gaze met his. He smirked, now knowing how easy it would be to make you cum. "Stay still for me, princess. No matter what." You eagerly nodded your head, hoping for more praise. But he said nothing, instead groping your tits before latching on again.
He paid close attention to your irregular breathing. As his tongue and teeth tugged at your nipple, one of his hands toyed with your other breast. His free hand slid down your torso and into your panties, swirling around your clit. Your breath hitched, your cunt tightening around him. Feeling how full his big dick made you. You were getting close again as desire bubbled in your core.
You sighed with ecstasy, obediently doing your best not to move around. Slick now drooled onto the base of his cock, your sweet pussy clenching around him as your pleasure heightened, a familiar heat swirling within you. You felt so sensitive, fighting the instincts that were desperate for friction. You bit your knuckle holding back the moan that threatened to burst as Toji's movements sped up.
Your whole body tensed up, your orgasm suddenly and violently washing through you. Your cunt squeezed him as he helped you ride through the pleasure, his hands now gripping your hips to hold you in place. He continued to suck your tit, although his movement slowed to allow you to breathe. Still, he refused to pull out until he felt an aftershock or two strangle his cock.
"Such a good girl." Toji murmured in the shell of your ear, tugging you against his chest and leaning back onto the sofa.
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@sourpeachsayshi
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burnednotburied · 23 hours
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Chapter 5: The Aquarium
AO3 Link | Chapter 4 Link
Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader
Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.
Tags/CWs: angst; slowburn; enemies to friends to lovers; talks of purity culture/ideals and “sin”; internalized homophobia and some comp-het feelings (they’re both so gay but so dumb about it); animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/gore; descriptions of being hanged; religious/cult-like ideas; sorry (but not that sorry) to any Owen fans, but he’s kinda a huge asshole in this
Note: I added chapter titles and finally figured out exactly where I’m going with this story lol. Hooray for having a plan!!
(Sorry it took more than two weeks to get this chapter out! End-of-semester craziness, ya know? I hope this chapter being like twice as long as usual makes up for it!)
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Abby realized too late that she probably should’ve warned you about the life-sized whales on the ceiling.
By the look on your face, she could tell you’ve never seen anything like it.
Which made sense. She hadn’t either before she and Owen found this place three years ago.
She paused to watch you for just a second, taking in your amazed expression as you marveled at the enormous hanging sea creatures above you.
Abby could easily remember what her first time here was like. How incredible and other-worldly this place felt. She imagined it must be even more overwhelming for you, this fractured piece of a world you were not a part of and knew little about. A world where humans built a place where they could go to look at fish for no reason other than that it was entertaining. A world where people did things just for fun.
Of course, Abby had also never been a part of that world, but at least she knew about it. She’d caught glimpses of it, carefully and intentionally gathering bits and pieces. She watched films and documentaries. She read novels and history books, newspapers and magazines if she could find them.
Knowledge was power. And, to Abby, having power was important. Having power meant being able to keep the people she cared about safe.
And if you had enough power, no one could ever take it away from you.
So she dedicated herself to becoming powerful, both of mind and of body. It’s all she had known and cared about since she lost her dad.
It’s why she lost Owen.
She still wasn’t sure if that had been a good thing or a bad thing, but she knew she felt guilty about it.
Three years ago, Owen had quickly claimed the aquarium as his own. He cleaned it up, made it feel as homey as possible, and spent as much time here as he could get away with. Abby didn’t tell anyone, not even the rest of the Salt Lake crew. It was right around the time they were breaking up. She felt like she owed him her discretion at the very least. Not that it really made up for anything.
Yesterday morning, when Nora told Abby that Owen was missing, she assumed he’d come here.
God, she hoped she was right.
Abby shifted the injured Yara in her arms, her muscles burning from carrying the girl for so long.
It was early in the morning now. The sun had just begun to rise as the four of you had been making your way into the aquarium.
“Owen!” she shouted, leading the way down one of the hallways off the main entrance. Abby thought he would most likely be out on the boat, either sleeping or continuing in his never-ending attempts to get the thing in working order.
“Owen!” she called out again. “Owen! Are you here?”
She paused for a moment, listening. Nothing.
“Owen—”
“I’m here.” She heard his voice just before he rounded the corner, stopping short when he saw the whole group of you. “Are those Scars?” he asked, genuinely surprised and definitely confused as hell.
Abby ignored the question. “I need whatever medical supplies you have.”
Before Owen could respond, Alice came barreling around the corner, barking aggressively at the perceived enemies.
The next few seconds were chaotic to say the least.
You screamed and jumped back. Lev reacted quickly, his bow drawn and an arrow notched.
“Alice, no!” Abby yelled out.
Owen grabbed for the German Shepherd, holding her back as she continued to lunge forward, trying to attack.
“Put the bow down! It’s okay!” Abby shouted.
Owen gripped the dog’s harness tightly. “Put that down!”
“Alice, shut up! Lev, put the bow down!”
“Alice, stop—Abby, what the fuck?!”
“Lev, listen to them! Put it down!” you insisted, putting a hand on his shoulder as you tried to push him behind you.
All of this happened simultaneously, muffled by the sound of deafening, echoing barking.
“Alice!” a new voice, one that Abby knew belonged to Mel, shouted. To her, the dog listened, sitting down obediently with one final bark.
Mel stood next to Owen and Alice, staring.
There was a moment of silence.
Abby turned to the young boy. “Lev, lower the bow. It’s okay.”
Reluctantly, he listened.
“Abby, who are these people?” Mel asked.
“They saved my life,” she said, hoping that would be enough of an answer for now. “Can you take a look at her?” Abby looked down at Yara, who seemed to be barely conscious in her arms.
Mel dropped a hand on Alice’s head, instructing her to stay, as she slowly stepped closer, eyeing you and Lev cautiously.
“This is Yara,” Abby said before nodding over to the kid at her right, “That’s Lev. And that’s—” She stopped short. She wasn’t about to introduce you to them as Prophet.
Behind her, you spoke, offering up your name. Abby and Lev’s eyes both swung to you, widening for two entirely different reasons.
Abby’s because she was hearing your name for the first time. It was your name. It was like she discovered a brand new piece to this puzzle she had been frantically trying to assemble since the moment she saw you.
She wasn’t sure why Lev looked shocked, but it seemed like a big deal, for you to use your name in place of the title that had been forced upon you by the other Scars.
Abby quietly repeated the name, committing it to memory.
Mel gave a small nod, unaware of the mini revelation that was happening right in front of her, instead focusing on Yara with a concerned look on her face.
“What did this?” she asked, looking down at the girl’s mangled arm.
“A hammer,” you said, stepping forward until you were standing right next to Abby.
“It wasn’t me,” Abby quickly added. Guilty, despite her innocence. She was ashamed that she needed to make that clarification. Worried about what you would think about it.  
Mel hesitated, regarding each of the Scars one by one again before sighing. “Alright. Let’s lay her down.”
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The pregnant woman—clearly someone Abby knew but wasn’t exactly friendly with—decided that Yara had compartment syndrome, which apparently meant they would have to cut her arm off.
While everyone else argued about the best way to accomplish that task, you stood off to the side, feeling sick. If you had been able to stop Emily’s men last night, this wouldn’t be happening.
It shouldn’t be happening.
Yara was going to lose her arm or die because you failed her.
You were trying not to spiral. Trying to be helpful now. (Too little, too late.) Trying to pay attention to the Wolves’ conversation.
They didn’t have the supplies they needed to perform the amputation safely. Yara didn’t have time to wait the couple days it would take Abby to travel all the way to the hospital and back.
“What if we could get you there in two hours?” Lev asked, hands grasping the metal table where Yara laid in the center of the room. “The Wolf hospital, right? On the west side?”
The man—Owen—stood, interested. “How?”
“The bridges,” you said, realizing what Lev was getting at. All eyes turned to you. “Our people built them. High up.”
Lev nodded. “It’s how we get around the flooding. And… you people.”
After a quiet moment, Abby stepped forward. “Can she handle two hours?”
The woman considered this, her hand comfortingly placed on Yara’s shoulder. “Probably, yeah.”
Abby nodded. “Then make a list of what you need.”
Owen stepped closer, joining the circle the rest of you had formed around Yara. “Wait. Are you serious? Abby, these bridges are used by Scars.”
The fact that he was arguing against the plan frustrated you. Yara didn’t have time for this.
“They only send in small groups at a time,” Lev said.
“You heard that? Small groups.” Abby said, watching as the other woman jotted down the supplies on a loose piece of paper and handed it over.
“This isn’t a joke.” Owen looked only at Abby, trying to catch her eyes. She seemed to be actively avoiding making contact.
Instead, she turned to you and said your name, followed by, “Let’s go.”
You looked up at her, at a loss for words. It was sad that something as simple as hearing your name could have this effect on you, but it had been eight years since you’d heard it… And this was already the second time Abby had said it.
You wanted to turn and walk right out the door with her, happy to follow her anywhere, but reality set it.
“I can’t,” you said. “I don’t know where the hospital is. And I don’t know our bridges well enough to guide you. It will have to be Lev.” It looked like Abby might argue with you, or at least tell you to come with them.
You wanted to. The idea of letting Lev go back out into danger without you made you sick with worry. But, foolish as it may seem, you trusted Abby to look out for him. And you didn’t understand these other Wolves and the strange dynamic at play here. You certainly didn’t trust them to be alone with Yara.
“Someone needs to stay with her,” you said, holding Abby’s gaze.
She nodded, grabbing her backpack off the floor. “Alright. Lev.”
He looked to you, taking your hand in his. The group splitting up must’ve felt wrong to him, too.
Almost on instinct, you did what you had been trained to do. You offered a bit of comfort.
“May She guide you,” you said quietly, giving him a small, encouraging smile as you squeezed his one hand between both of yours.
The words were familiar to you both, a common Seraphite mantra. He reciprocated your tight grasp and finished the line, “May She protect you.”
When you released his hand, he placed it on Yara’s shoulder, as if to tell her goodbye as well. She was unresponsive.
You felt a hand fall on your own shoulder and looked up to find that it was Abby. She nodded her head to the opposite end of the room, impatiently taking your wrist in her hand and leading you over there when you didn’t immediately catch her meaning.
She didn’t let go.
Abby stood close, speaking quietly so that no one else could hear. “We’ll be back as soon as possible. Yara’s going to be fine, okay. And I’ll keep Lev safe.”
You couldn’t help the slight upward curve of your lips. “I know,” you said. “I trust you.”
She blinked, caught off guard, but continued. “I wouldn’t mention the whole you-being-the-Prophet thing to Owen and Mel if I were you.”
“I’m not a prophet,” you deadpanned.
She let out an exasperated breath. “Okay, sure. Well I wouldn’t tell them that the Scars think—”
“Seraphites,” you interjected.
“—Seraphites—Just… you get the point. Don’t mention it, okay?”
“What if they ask questions?”
“Dodge them. Be vague.”
“You don’t trust your friends?” you asked, more serious now.
“No,” Abby said. “Not with you.”
You couldn’t begin to guess what she meant by that.
“I trust them… for the most part.” She glanced at them over your shoulder before meeting your eyes again. “I just don’t know how they would react to that information. It’s not exactly a small thing. I don’t know what they would do with it.”
You looked at her for while longer, then nodded your head. “Okay. I won’t say anything.”
“Abby?” the man’s voice came from behind you.
She let go of your wrist immediately, as if she had been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.
You turned around to find the woman—Mel—and Owen both looking at you like they were witnessing something truly insane, instead of just two people having a conversation.
Lev stood on his own by the door, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, eager to get moving.
From behind you, you felt Abby’s hand wrap around your wrist again, squeezing lightly and then letting go.
“We’ll be back,” she said, this time at a normal volume. She joined Lev by the door, opening it and leading the way out.
“Abby!” Owen said again, moving to follow them out.
Mel groaned, frustrated. “God! Owen, just let them go.” When he ignored her, she went after him, the door slamming loudly behind her.
You stayed behind with Yara.
She was blinking slowly, barely awake, her shallow breaths too few and far between for your liking. You felt helpless, knowing there wasn’t much you could do other than sit and wait.
You pulled up a chair.
Just outside the door, the two Wolves were arguing. Although, you only caught bits and pieces of it.
Something about Abby and Scars and a cloak… Something about someone who looked like she just stepped out of The Lord of the Rings. You didn’t know what that meant, but it was clear they were talking about you.
Again, you unfastened the cloak and freed yourself of your top layer. Whether that was due to embarrassment or a sudden recognition of the uncomfortable warmth of the room, you couldn’t tell.
“Did you see how she was looking at her?” “Owen, why do you care? Why does it matter to you?” you heard through the door.
The dynamic here was becoming more and more confusing.
You’d assumed that Owen was the father of Mel’s child, just because they seemed to live here together. But that didn’t explain Mel’s rather apparent unfavorable opinion of Abby. And it definitely didn’t explain Owen’s preoccupation with Abby.
Their conversation continued for several minutes, volume rising and falling periodically. There wasn’t much you understood and even less of it seemed important or interesting to you.
Eventually, the door swung open again, making you jump in your seat. Mel reentered the room, offering you a strained smile as she checked on Yara. You quietly watched her work.
“There’s not much we can do for her until Abby and your friend get back,” she said to you, eyes still focused on Yara. “If you want, I can get you set up with a place to sleep while we wait.”
“No,” you said, too quickly to be polite. “…Thank you. I’ll stay with Yara.”
Mel pulled her lips into a tight line and nodded, leaving the room again. She came back a few minutes later with water and a shiny red apple, offering them up for you to take.
“Sorry. I know it’s not much. Owen isn’t well-stocked on food right now,” she said after you’d accepted the snack.
You smiled. “Thank you. You’re very kind to be helping us at all.”
Mel didn’t really answer, instead gesturing to the door as she walked toward it. “Well, we’ll… be around. If you need anything. And I’ll come in and check on her periodically.”
You nodded, quietly thanking her again. The discarded cloak that you’d left on a table by the door caught your eye. “Oh. Wait.”
She turned to face you again, eyebrows raised in question.
“What is The Lord of the Rings?” you asked.
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An excursion that was supposed to take two hours ended up taking nearly all day.
But hey, Abby had done the best she could.
She faced her deeply-rooted fear of heights on that sorry excuse for a bridge. She fought off Infected and Scars. She was, let’s say, detained by her fellow WLF soldiers at the hospital. And then she had to fight and kill what must’ve been the biggest, gnarliest, freakiest blob of cordyceps infection to ever exist.
She barely got out of there alive, but she managed to leave with the medical supplies in hand. Plus tons of new material for her future nightmares.
Mel had started operating as soon as they got back to the aquarium, with Owen assisting her.
You and Lev sat just outside the door the entire time.
The surgery had gone well. Yara was doing okay, all things considered.
After, Owen handed Abby a pile of sleeping bags and blankets and walked off without saying a word.
Abby handed them off to you and carefully lifted Yara again, this time to move her to a more comfortable spot to rest. She led the way to the next room, you and Lev trailing behind.
There was a long couch in the new room. You motioned for Lev to lay down on one end while Abby set Yara down on the other.
She stepped back and watched, amused, as you fussed over the two of them for a few minutes, using most of the blankets on your young friends.
When you were sure they were both as comfortable as possible, you left them to rest and walked back over to Abby. In your arms, you held the two sleeping bags that you hadn’t used on the kids.
You offered one of them to her.
She shook her head, motioning to the space on the floor in front of the couch where there was an old, worn-out rug.
“Lay mine out for me? I have to go do something before I go to sleep.”
“You’re leaving?” you asked, looking concerned.
“I just need to talk to Owen. I’ll be right back.”
You studied her face, like you were trying to figure out whether or not she was being truthful.
Abby doubled down, pointing again. “Go. Get some sleep. I’ll be back.”
You sighed but went where she had pointed and began laying out the two sleeping bags.
One for you. One for her. Right next to each other on the floor.
You had been doing a good job of hiding it, but Abby could tell you were exhausted. She couldn’t blame you. Hell, she was exhausted. And the sooner she touched base with Owen, the sooner she could come back.
She turned and went out to track him down.
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You didn’t know what was wrong with you.
You had been awake for almost forty-eight hours, but you couldn’t fall asleep. Your mind was racing. Filled with worry for Yara, concern about her condition, guilt for having been unable to prevent the injury from happening in the first place. Thoughts of your own people hunting your friends with the intent to kill them. Fear that, despite your desire to keep them safe, your lack of knowledge and experience in the world outside of Haven would make that impossible.
You thought about the woman you killed yesterday. How she’d so tenderly and earnestly called you her Prophet just moments before you snuck up behind her and ended her life.
You wondered if you too were now an apostate. If the Seraphites had found the bodies of Emily and her men and assumed you were dead, or if they somehow knew that you betrayed them all the very moment you were given the chance.
You wondered if your mother knew what you had done. If she would be punished for your sins.
You thought about Abby, hoping that your faith in her was not misplaced. Hoping that your attraction to her hadn’t clouded your judgment.
This was crazy. All of it. It was too much.
You had tossed everything and everyone you’ve ever known aside, thrown the first twenty years of your life to the wind like it meant nothing at all, and run off into the forest with a Wolf without a second thought. And now that you, Yara, and Lev were finally (seemingly) not in immediate danger, you had time to think things through. Contemplate what you’d done and try to figure out where it left you.
By your own hand, your life had been irreparably changed forever. It was done. There was no undoing it. No going back.
You would stay with Lev and Yara. You would stay with Abby if that’s what she wanted.
But where would you go? It wasn’t safe for any of you to stay here.
That wasn’t a question you could answer. You didn’t know of anywhere else. You wouldn’t know how to find a place that was safe.
All of these thoughts bombarded your mind at once, taking turns at the forefront. Contradicting emotions swirled, adding to the chaos.
There was a sadness, a sense of loss for the people you had always belonged to.
Guilt and shame. Two feelings that were not at all foreign to you, but you had never felt as strongly as you did now.
A lightness. A happiness. Almost a thrill. A hopeful nervousness for the freedom you had claimed for yourself, the agency you had uncovered, and the possibility of what was to come.
Sadness, again, for the mother you would miss, and the realization that you had already been missing her for a very long time.
Frustration—simmering anger—for your childhood that was stolen and the shame that did not originate within yourself. The unrelenting voices that lived in your head, weighing in on every thought and critiquing every action. But those voices were not your own. You would take your dagger and cut their presence from your mind, carefully carving them out of your head and disposing of them yourself if you could.
And, amongst everything else taking up space inside of you, demanding your attention, it felt stupid and frivolous and wasteful, but you couldn’t keep Abby from your thoughts. She kept appearing, in the middle of it all. This was something that you truly did not have time for and should not be putting energy toward.
But you had never felt intrinsically drawn to someone in the way you were drawn to her…
Behind you, you could hear slow, heavy breaths coming from either end of the couch. You were glad that Lev and Yara were getting some rest. You’d do your best to make sure they got their fill of it this time.
You got up quietly, trying not to disturb them but feeling like you needed to move. You shook out your arms, rolled your neck around, wiggled your fingers, stretched your legs.
Honestly, you wanted run. Or hit something. Or scream. Loudly and for a long time. Until you ran out of air and your voice was ragged.
But you didn’t do any of those things.
Instead, you went to look for Abby.
----------------------------------------------------------------
“Seriously? You’re telling me Isaac’s top Scar killer just… turned over a new leaf? Decided to befriend and help three Scars?” Mel was staring into Abby’s soul, her words dripping in disbelief.
Abby had found her and Owen upstairs, in the same room that had once housed the boat man’s skeleton and the couple’s Christmas stockings (not at the same time, of course).
Owen was angry. Exactly what she had done to earn his anger, she couldn’t say. He held a jar of his homemade moonshine. A jar that was somewhere between three-quarters and one half full. Abby assumed it had been filled to the top just a few minutes ago.
He had apparently decided to be a silent, brooding drunk tonight, so Mel had been the one to interrogate her.
Abby tried to explain everything, albeit keeping things pretty vague. She didn’t want to give them too much information about you specifically, and she didn’t want them to get the wrong idea about you, so she made sure to omit the part where you nearly gutted her. And the part where you were the new Scar Prophet that Isaac was after.
Mel wasn’t buying the part where Abby simply had a change of heart.
She shot Owen a cautious look before she said, “Abby, do you—I thought you might—Is it possible that you’re…” Mel stopped, gathering her thoughts, trying to find the best way to word it. “It’s not… like… a problem that she’s a woman. It’s just… it is kind of a big deal that she’s a Scar—”
“Abby isn’t into a fucking Scar,” Owen interjected, his knuckles white around the mouth of the jar. “And she’s not fucking gay.”
Then he started chugging the jar’s contents, forcing down swallow after painful swallow.
The women were both silent for a second, surprised by the anger in his words.
Abby didn’t know what to say. She knew she was into you—and she’d be lying if she said that wasn’t at least part of the reason why she was helping you and your friends—but she had never considered if that made her gay.
She honestly didn’t really care to label herself as anything either way. It felt stupid—in the honest-to-god post-apocalyptic hellscape that they lived in, where they had been engaged in a never-ending war since they were kids—to care about that kind of thing.
Why should it matter—when her family was dead, her friends were constantly in danger, and there were enemies closing in from every angle—if she was romantically or sexually interested in men or women or both? Wasn’t that almost guaranteed to be the least important detail at any given moment? And why should she waste any of her time or energy trying to define herself in that way?
This was all really new to her. She hadn’t really let herself be interested in anyone since Owen, and she honestly wasn’t sure if she had ever been into him for the right reasons. Again, she remembered how uncomfortable it made her feel to kiss him, to be touched by him…
She couldn’t imagine that it would feel like that if you touched her. And just the fact that she hoped one day she’d find out was probably telling enough.
So maybe, in the Old World, people would’ve called Abby a lesbian. Maybe she would’ve identified with that title if things were different, if her life was lower stakes, and if she’d had more time to explore herself and her interests.
What-ifs didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was here now. You were with her—and she needed to figure out a plan of how to proceed from here—so she could make sure to keep it that way.  She could figure out the rest later.
Mel was the first to speak, annoyed, but addressing him calmly, like she was talking to a rabid animal. “Owen—”
He didn’t even let her get a word in.
“No. This is bullshit! Abby—” He looked past Mel to meet Abby’s gaze, insistent. “I’m going to Santa Barbara to find the Fireflies. If you’re smart, you’ll ditch the Scars and come with me.”
Mel slammed her hands on the table, causing both Abby and Owen to jump. “What the hell do you mean, you’re going to Santa Barbara?! We are going to Santa Barbara!” They weren’t used to seeing violent outbursts from Mel. She was the queen of passive aggression, but she rarely lost her cool. “What is wrong with you, Owen? Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you? This is all so seriously fucked up.” She turned away from them, clenching her fists at her sides, looking like she might cry. Or hit something. Or both.
But for the first time in years, Abby wasn’t on the receiving end of her disdain.
Guess all she had to do for her old friend to stop seeing her as a threat was get entangled with the Scar Prophet. No big deal.
Owen, in a moment of clarity, seemed to realize how huge of an asshole he was being to the mother of his child. He set down his jar, stood, and walked over to Mel, putting his hands on her hips and pulling her into him, her back pressed against his front. He was swaying on his feet, his cheeks flushed, hands clumsy. If he hadn’t been drunk before, he definitely was now. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. We are going to Santa Barbara. Of course it’s we. Hell, the Scars can come too for all I care. We’ll make it a party.”
Abby rolled her eyes at his quick switch-up and turned to go. Clearly this conversation wasn’t going anywhere productive tonight, with Owen drunk, Mel upset, and all of them exhausted beyond belief.
There was a creak by the door, and all three of them turned to look, Owen’s reaction far more delayed than Abby and Mel’s.
You stood there in your long white dress, hesitant to come in. Shy, having clearly interrupted a tense conversation.
Abby wondered how long you’d been standing there unnoticed. Her instinct was to meet you in the doorway and take you back to bed, away from Owen’s rude drunkenness and Mel’s inquisitive eyes.
“Hey! Scar! How the hell are ya? Come join us! We were just talking about sunny California. Ever been?” Owen pulled away from Mel and plopped back down on the couch, finding his jar again.
“Umm…” You looked to Abby for guidance, but she was just as unsettled as you. “No. I haven’t… Sorry, I was just looking for Abby.”
“Yeah, I bet you were,” he mumbled under his breath. Abby wasn’t sure if you caught that, but she wasn’t interested in having you hear any more of this.
“Let’s just go,” she said to you, moving toward where you still stood in the doorway.
“No! Come! Sit! Let’s talk,” Owen insisted, slapping the spot next to him on the couch.
You gave Abby another hesitant look before walking past her to join Owen. Mel sighed and lowered herself into a nearby chair. When it became clear to her that retreating with you wasn’t an option right now, Abby walked back over. She stood right across from the couch so she could see you, leaned against the wall behind her with her arms crossed over her chest.
You sat next to Owen, although not so close, putting as much distance between you as possible.
“Atta girl,” he chuckled. Abby wanted to punch him.
All of this was out of character for Owen, but she knew that he was always kind of unpredictable when he got drunk. With everything that had happened and emotions running so high, everyone really should just be going to sleep.
With that in mind, Abby would continue to stand nearby until you were ready to leave. She wouldn’t let things get out of hand.
“So… Scar—”
“Seraphite,” Abby corrected him. He scoffed and took another swig.
You smiled softly at her, looking grateful.
“Scar,” he said again. “Can I perhaps interest you in some hooch? Made it myself.” He offered up the jar for you to take, tilting it towards you with unsteady hands.
“No,” Abby immediately answered on your behalf. “She does not want any of your hooch.”
“Well give the girl a chance to answer,” he slurred. “What? Your little girlfriend can’t speak for herself? She can’t make her own decisions?”
You glanced back and forth between him and her, reaching for the open jar of clear liquid, properly baited by his taunting words.
Abby tried to remember that Owen was her friend—her best friend—and that he wasn’t usually like this.
“What is… hooch?” you asked, staring down into the glass jar suspiciously.
“It’s moonshine,” Abby said. When that didn’t clear things up for you, she added, “Alcohol.”
“Like wine?” you asked, tentatively sniffing it.
Owen laughed. Abby nodded, “Kind of, but it’s much stronger. Seriously, you won’t like it.”
There was a flash of something that looked like defiance in your eyes, offense taken at the idea that you wouldn’t be able to handle something that others could.
You put the jar to your lips and tilted it back enough to take in a generous mouthful.
Abby watched as your eyes went wide and you struggled to swallow it. Honestly, she was impressed that you didn’t immediately spit it out. You managed to choke it down before breaking out in a harsh coughing fit.
Owen laughed, accepting the jar as you shoved it back into his hands. Your eyes watered as you tapped on your sternum, taking a second to regain the ability to speak.
“You made that?” you wheezed in disbelief.
“Yep!”
“On purpose?”
Abby laughed at that, leaning back against the wall again once she was convinced that you weren’t dying.
“Hey, that’s prime hooch! You should be thanking me right now.” Owen took his own swig of it, lounging back against the couch with his arm resting along the back.
“Thank you?” You squinted your eyes but tried to be polite.
“I was kidding, princess. You don’t have to thank me.”
Abby, again, resisted the urge to punch him in the face.
“So,” Owen began, “tell me. How is it that you’re a Scar… but you’re not scarred?” He chuckled to himself, as if he had made a joke.
Your eyes shot to meet Abby’s, clearly unprepared to answer that question.
“Not every Seraphite has facial scars,” you said, keeping things vague.
“Every Scar I’ve ever seen does.”
“You’ve seen me, haven’t you?” you shot back.
Abby let out a surprised laugh. Owen clenched his jaw.
“Every Scar has face scars. It’s like your defining thing. It’s why we call you Scars.” He was adamant, unyielding. And the playful mask was starting to slip back into anger. Abby could tell this wasn’t going to end well.
“Well I guess you don’t know as much about Seraphites as you thought you did.” You were frustrated now, pressing yourself further into the far end of the couch to put more distance between the two of you.
Owen opened his mouth with a rebuttal, but Abby jumped in. “Lay off, Owen.”
He threw his hands up in surrender, leaning back against the brown cushions. “Fine, fine. Whatever. Forgive me for having questions. Fuck me, I guess. I’ve just never seen a hot Scar befo—”
Before he could finish the sentence, Mel was on her feet. “Alright. That’s it. You’re done.” She had been sitting silently up until then, ready to intervene if things got out of hand, just as Abby had been. Apparently, Owen calling you hot was where she drew the line.
Abby was glad Mel was saying something. Because if things had gone much further, she really might’ve hit him.
“Get up,” Mel instructed firmly, standing over him. “You’re going to bed.” He let her take the jar out of his hands and, with much effort, pushed himself up off the couch and started walking toward the door. Mel was right behind him, hands hovering on either of his sides in case he lost his balance. He was grumbling under his breath the whole way, like a toddler whose bedtime was being enforced.
Abby watched them go.
Once they were out of sight, she looked down at you, only to find that you were already looking at her.
“Sorry,” she spat out. “About him. He’s not usually like that.”
You nodded, but you didn’t seem sure that you believed her.
“So you guys are… friends?”
Abby cleared her throat. “Uh, yeah. We’ve known each other for years. Joined the WLF together. Me, Owen, Mel, and a few others.”
You considered this for a second before responding. “Where were you before?”
“Salt Lake City,” she said, looking down at her feet. “Utah.” Abby didn’t know if that would mean anything to you.
“Mel doesn’t seem to like you very much,” you said, observant, not trying to offend. Abby smiled, despite the meaning behind your words. You added, “And Owen doesn’t seem to like me.” You stated it like it was a fact, like it was neither good nor bad, just true.
“He’ll get over it. He’s just drunk.” Abby didn’t know if that was true, but she wanted to comfort you in that moment, not that you actually seemed to care all that much about Owen’s opinion of you.
“Can I ask you a question?” You were looking up at her, eyes wide and vulnerable.
Anything, Abby thought. Out loud, she said, “Sure.”
She pushed away from the wall and came to sit next to you on the couch, filling the spot where Owen had been.
“Why do you people keep calling me princess?” you asked. Abby laughed quietly under her breath, turning her body to face you.
“I don’t know. There’s something about you that’s very princess-like I guess.”
You made a face at her. She smiled wider.
“It’s not a bad thing. You just come across as soft. Delicate. I don’t know… Graceful.”
“I am not delicate,” you said, defensive.
“I know.”
“I’ve killed.”
“I saw.” Abby was being serious, although she did find the conversation amusing. “You’re very skilled with a knife.”
You nodded, satisfied with her response, and fully turned to face Abby. “And what does hot mean? Why did he call me hot?”
“Oh—” Abby stuttered, “Uh—He meant… He was saying that you’re very pretty.”
“Oh.” You considered this, eyes wandering away. “Earlier he said I look like The Lord of the Rings.”
Abby smiled again. There was something about you that felt like it might’ve been taken straight from the high fantasy genre.
“Do you know what that is?” she asked.
“Yes. Sort of. I asked Mel. She said it was a film about a magical land. With fairies and stuff.”
“They were books first.”
“Have you read them?”
“Yeah.”
“Have you read a lot of books?” you asked, genuinely curious.
“I try to read as much as I can. Whatever’s available.”
You nodded, thinking, letting the conversation die down.
After a moment, “Abby?”
“Hmm?” she hummed. She liked the way you said her name. Just the sound of it made her heart beat a little bit faster.
“Owen also called me your girlfriend.” You were studying her face, trying to read her reaction.
“Yeah. He did.” Abby said, looking into your inquisitive eyes.
“Does that just mean friend? Or is it something else?”
“He was just trying to piss me off.”
“So it does mean something else?” Your eyes were on her lips now, and you were ever so slightly leaned forward. Almost subconsciously.
“It doesn’t matter,” Abby said. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
She was pushing you away, and she didn’t know why. She could’ve answered that question so differently. Maybe she should’ve.
Abby wanted you. And she was almost certain that you felt the same way. At the very least, there was a curiosity. A hesitant attraction.
But she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was wrong. That anything with you would be something she wasn’t good enough for.
Something she didn’t deserve.
Something she would ruin if given the chance.
So tonight, she didn’t give herself that chance.
Was that noble or cowardly? She wasn’t sure.
You pulled away, turning to face forward as you let out a long breath, puffing out your cheeks.
“I’m tired,” you said, standing. “And I should check on Yara and Lev.”
“Yeah.” Abby nodded. “Okay.”
She remained in place, ready to mentally beat herself up some more and stew in her thoughts alone for a while.
You cleared your throat lightly, swaying on your feet. “Umm… I’m not sure that I can find my way back to the room. Can you… please—?”
“Oh.” Abby hopped to her feet. “Okay, yeah. I’ll… I guess I’ll go with you.”
She avoided eye contact, leading the way into the dark hallway.
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gutterfuuck · 2 days
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i’ve been fiendingggg for some more perv incel mark with a perv reader hehehe 🙈🙈🙈
-🎀
idea was copied over from one of my drafts!! it just fit the ask so well!! also hello bowtiful anon! i hope you are very well!!
cw: mdni, mutual masturbation(?), i wasn’t sure how to tag this, the ask is basically the premise haha, this one is quite short again, so sorry!! i am a dark blog so bare in mind before reading or clicking on other works!!
you’d be home soon, he knew it. that’s why he’s been jerking off on your bed since he got the text telling him to set the movie up before you got back. mark hasn’t even put the disc in the dvd player, he was too busy taking in your scent and rubbing his cock on your pillows…
he’d felt something hard under the blankets as he shifted his knees, curiosity getting the better of him, pulling back the sheet and grabbing hold of the object. ah. a vibrator, a wand… he couldn’t believe you were one of those girls; sitting up at night and grinding your clit into the vibrating head of the pretty pink wand, trying to keep your moans silent. mark groaned as he imagined how you’d moan out his name, his thumb looking for the on switch, watching as it started shaking to life.
fuck, you’d had this on your cunt. he bought it up to his mouth, tongue lolling out to lick it, thankful that you’d forgotten about it under the covers so he could still taste you on the toy. it didn’t take long for him to inch it closer and closer to his dick, hips jumping away at the sensation… gosh, he was so sensitive. mark couldn’t hold the vibrator on his cockhead for longer than a second before he felt like his body was going to burn, warm tears brimming in the corner of his eyes as he tried harder and harder to keep it in one place.
because of the combination of the semi-loud vrrrrrrrr-ing of your vibrator and being lost in his own thought, mark hadn’t heard your bedroom door creak open as you took in the sight in front of you. “uh-hhn-“ mark sighed, eyes closed tightly as he focused on how your vibrator was about to bring him to an orgasm. so, so lost in his own pleasure, he hadn’t even seen you enter nor keep your eyes on his shaking body, desperate pink tip leaking pre onto your vibrator. “c-cum..min’- ah— y/n—“ he cries, stomach tightening before you make your presence known.
“yes?” you answer, making mark turn his head to face you, embarrassment taking him over before a wave of pleasure swept him off of his feet, too drunk on the pleasure to realise the gravity of the situation. “s’sorry—‘m sorr- oh, fh-fuuuuckk-..!” he babbled as he shot his load all over your bed, dirtying your pillows and blankets. mark let go of the vibrator limply, tilting his head up to look at you with a guilty plea in his eyes. you’d caught him a few times doing things like this, this was just how friends would hang out sometimes. not a big deal. maybe mark wanted to hang around you all day and sleep in your bed and snoop through your things so he can cum all over your newly washed sheets, some friends are closer than others.
“l-let me— ah, explain,” mark stuttered, thighs twitching as he looked at the mess he’d just made. god, he was so dirty. couldn’t believe he’d done this to you, once again. he couldn’t help it! it was like a drug, he just couldn’t help but keep coming back to you!! you shake your head, smiling at him as if you hadn’t just watched him cum all over himself and your stuff and sounding like a fucking pornstar. “d’you want me to show you how girls cum, mark?” you ask innocently, smile widening as you watched his stare at you blankly through thick framed glasses, familiar glistening crimson trickling down from his nostrils as his cock twitched back to life. god you were killing him. you always pulled some shit like this, he wondered why you didn’t just date him already!! he couldn’t make the first move, he was too shy!! he’d think about that on a different day, opening his mouth to breathe out a quiet, “fuck yes, please.”
before you know it, mark’s tip is pressed against your clit, the warmth from your pussy making it hard for mark to keep his composure, he wanted it in, it wasn’t fair! you slide your vibratior between both of your crotches, looking up at mark for a second, taking off his stupid little glasses so they wouldn’t fall off and inevitably hit you in the face while you were under him. when you’d placed them on your desk gently, you flicked the switch of your vibrator, tummy concaving a little at the feel of the vibration on your sensitive bud.
mark looked gorgeous, his lip pulled between his teeth harshly, eyes half lidded with cheeks glowing red, trying to stop himself from collapsing on top of you. so, so, so sensitive. typical mark. you tutted, pressing the switch further as you mewled with the sudden increased speed, watching as mark’s mouth hung open on a guttural moan, pulling his hips away as he panted with short breaths, resting his head next to yours, “t’much, please, it’s too m-much..-“ he whimpered, avoiding the vibrator every time you tried to press it on his dick. you pouted, looking up at him with big doe eyes, “one more, for me? c’mon, then we can watch the movie, i haven’t even cum yet..!” you teased, scanning his face as you felt pre drip onto your tummy.
“fine..” he says eventually, avoiding your gaze, pressing his hips into yours so he can grind against the vibrating sensations between you both, trying to stop himself from letting tears roll down his cheeks as he worked himself into overstimulation, just for you.
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plentyoffandoms · 1 day
Note
Can you pls do a part 3 to tragedy the Ethan from scream smut story?
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Main Masterlist ♡ Miscellaneous Movies Masterlist
Ethan Landry x f/Reader (18+)
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Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.
Gifs and photos do not belong to me. 1st gif @nowadayz (sorry, wouldn't let me tag you) dress from Shein.
Warnings: Some swearing. Stalking. Mentions murder, mention of breeding kink, use of birth control. Fingering. Unprotected sex. Creampie. Choking. Use of the words whore and slut.
Requested by anonymous. I hope you like it
WC: 2226
Also, the photo is just to show the dress, not how I imagine the reader's body to look like
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The pharmacy closest to campus didn't have any Plan B, and I was panicking as the time frame for taking it slowly started to draw to a close.
Ethan left me alone, probably waiting to see if I was pregnant or not, and I started to test the moment I could.
Right up until I got my period, and even after that, I got lab work done to see if I was pregnant.
Thankfully, I was not.
I instantly got on birth control, now knowing that Ethan may have a breeding kink, and I seem to be his idea candidate for a baby mama, so I decided to take precautions.
Speaking of Ethan, like I said, he has left me alone, for the most part.
I do find underwear missing, and then days later, they are thrown carelessly on my bed, with what looks like cum stains.
The first time it happened, I was freaked out, and I changed my locks, hoping that would stop him from entering, but he got around the new locks as well.
At this point, his is just toying with me, and I wonder each and every damn day if it will be my last.
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Our little friend group is so wrapped up in themselves that they didn't even realise that the two people that were once attached at the hip no longer talk to one another.
I get up and leave the moment he comes and joins us, coming up with some excuse that I have to finish an essay or study for a test.
But then, one day, as I was packing up my stuff, Chad told me that they were all going to a party at some Frat on campus.
"I thought we were told no more parties until Ghostface was caught?"
"Since there hasn't been a murder in a bit, the Dean is pulling back on some of the rules."
'Yeah, until Ethan kills again.' I thought to myself.
"I'll think about it." I said as I walked away.
"You should come." Ethan said, making me pause. I didn't bother to turn around to face him.
"I said I would think about it." I instantly regretted the tone I gave him.
I came back to my room, expecting Ethan to pop out of some hiding place, but all I found was a note stuck to my bathroom door.
"You are coming to the party." Wasn't a suggestion, but a command.
I pulled out my phone, pulling up his contact information, and my finger hovered over the call button, wondering if I should text him or not.
But he was calling me, and I hesitated at first, but knowing if I didn't answer, he would come around here, and do lord knows what to me.
I answered the call and quietly said hello.
"Hello, sweetheart. You are coming to the party and you will be wearing what I pick out."
"Ethan, please, I don't want to go to the party."
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, I am doing something nice for you by buying a dress, and this is how you repay me." His tone made me shiver.
"Look, I'll sweeten the deal. You come to the party, and I promise not to harm anyone there."
"Or anyone on their way to and from the party."
"And what gives you the right to be making such demands?" Before finding out Ethan was Ghostface, I would have thought he was teasing right now, but I have no idea about right now.
"I'll let you do whatever you want to me."
"I already do that." He laughed into the phone, making me flinch.
"Any time. I won't ignore you anymore. I'll start to sit next to you again. Hang out, anything. Just leave the people alone."
"For one night."
I wanted to ask him to stop completely, but even I know that he won't. The Dean was stupid to allow for anyone to hold a party or cut back on curfew.
"For one night, just don't kill anyone."
"I'll see you later, sweetheart."
When I saw the box sitting on my bed, the day of the party, I didn't want to touch it. I knew that whatever outfit he picked out, I would have to wear it just so he didn't kill anyone for one night.
I wonder if I could convince him not to kill anymore. Give him what he wants,
I opened the box and was stunned to see what dress he picked out for me.
It's a bit short, but I have no choice.
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A note fell out of the box, with two words on it. 'No, Panties.'
I am royally fucked tonight.
I should call this whole thing off.
Then he will kill everyone he can get his hands on.
I picked up the dress, knowing that either way tonight, I was fucked.
The girls gushed over my dress as we walked towards the party, asking me where I got it. When did I go shopping without them? Etc.
"Just online. I got it so long ago that I don't remember where from." I lied through my teeth as we walked into the party, each of us grabbing a drink.
I already decided I would have one. I have to keep my wits about me tonight.
I looked around for Ethan, but I didn't see him or Chad around, and Ethan follows Chad around like a lost little puppy at parties.
Some Frat guy walked up to me and shook my head no, giving him a disgusted look. I didn't want him to be killed because of me.
I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist from behind, and I stiffened until I smelled the cologne.
Ethan.
He pushed his hips right against my ass, and I could feel how hard he was.
He leaned down slightly and placed his lips against my ear, my own breath seeming to catch at such an intimate act.
I had to remind myself that he was Ghostface. That he would and will kill me once he is done playing whatever game this is.
"Fucking gorgeous in this dress. I knew it would be perfect for you. You do what I ask?" I nodded my head yes.
"I knew you would be a good girl for me. Come and dance with me." The moment he called me a good girl, I felt myself getting wet.
I danced with only Ethan throughout the party. Kept him busy and attached to my hip. Wherever he went, I went.
He didn't drink, and I had only one cup from when I first came to the party, but everyone one else was trashed.
There were drunk, couples making out. I saw people fucking on random pieces of furniture, or up against a wall.
They are really making up for lost time, with the no party ban and the curfews that were in place.
I was pulled from my thoughts when I felt Ethan's hand go under my dress, as he turned us to face a wall.
"I bet you're soaked." His finger easily slid in my soaked pussy. He added another one. I gripped his arm as he wrapped his other arm around my body to hold me against him.
Little groans fell from his lips as I couldn't stop the whines falling from mine.
"Should fuck you in front of the whole school. Let them know what an easy fucking slut you are. Let them watch as I fuck your pussy, then your face. Have you swallow my load, and show everyone that you swallowed it."
My pussy clenched around his fingers, making him chuckle against my ear. "Come on now, cum around my fingers." I was so close. So fucking close, but then the music shut off and the lights turned on.
Someone yelled police.
Someone else yelled school security.
Either way, I wasn't staying around. Ethan pulled his fingers out of me, and he ran, leaving me to find my own way out.
I found Sam, and the two of us ran, not wanting to get caught for the underage drinking. Even though I only had one drink, you could smell the beer on my breath.
I got back to my dorm room, collapsing on my bed, reading through the group text message to see who got out okay.
All Ethan put was 'home'.
I fell asleep, not knowing if I would wake up to the news that another student was dead or not.
He kept his promise and didn't kill anyone that night.
No, no, that fucker waited a few more days to give a sense of false hope that Ghostface was gone, by killing the same Fratboy who tried to hit on me at the party.
I didn't find out about it on the news or through the school, I came home to him sitting on my couch with his mask off, but with his costume still on.
I didn't say anything to him, as I just looked him over, seeing the blood all over him. I gulped, not knowing what to say.
"Who was it?" I asked quietly, now looking at the floor.
"That frat guy." That was all he needed to say, and I knew who he meant.
"You didn't know him, Ethan. There was no need to kill him...." I trailed off as I finally looked into his eyes.
He was mad.
"I killed him because he thought he had a chance with you, and you are mine." He patted his lap, and I dropped my bag on the floor and straddled him, biting my lip to keep the moan falling from my lips at how hard he was.
How fucking hot I found all of this.
He killed for me.
No other person would ever do that for me.
He gripped the back of my head and brought our faces together to kiss me.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. I was grinding my clothed covered pussy against him, but I needed more.
"Take what you want, sweetheart."
I got off of him, and stripped out of my clothes, and all he did was shimmy his pants down and pull his cock out of his pants, and boxers.
It was red, and oh, so hard. The tip was leaking so much precum, that I wanted to lick it, but I needed him inside of me.
I straddled him once more, lowering myself onto his cock, gripping his blood soaked clothes, as I took him all the way inside of me.
Ethan's eyes were screwed shut, and his mouth was open. For once, it seemed like I was the one in charge, but all of a sudden, his hand gripped my throat, squeezing it tightly, making me grip his wrist, trying to pull his hand away.
He chuckled darkly. "I am going to destroy you." Was all he said as he flipped us around and he started to fuck me into my couch.
My vision was going blurry
Choking me to death, it seemed as he fucked me hard, and deep.
He cock dragged against my g-spot every single time he pulled out and pushed back in. This was all becoming too much for me. I thought I was going to black out from the pleasure and lack of oxygen, and then he let go of my throat.
I was gasping for air, trying to suck in as much oxygen as possible, but the asshole reached between our bodies, and started to play with my clit.
I was done for. I cried out his name in a broken sob, as my pussy clenched around his cock. I swear he swore under his breath at how tight I was squeezing him, but I was taken over with all the pleasure. It felt like I couldn't hear anything.
Until, he pulled out and slapped my over sensitive pussy, not once but twice. I had tears streaming down my face as I tried to close my legs, but he held them open.
"Keep them open." He instructed. I grabbed my ankles and held my legs open, the two of us watching as he sunk his cock back in me.
"Put your mask back on." I said out loud, not even realising fully what I was asking.
"I knew there was something twisted deep inside of you." Ethan said as he grabbed his discarded Ghostface mask and put it on.
I came twice more as he fucked me as Ghostface. His pace turned brutal as he sought after his own release.
"Gonna take you on the next hunt. Maybe get you to kill. Bet you would look so gorgeous covered in someone else's blood." He was babbling at this point, possibly not even knowing what he was saying as he absolutely destroyed my pussy.
He finally stilled with a long, drawn-out moan, as he came. His cum shooting deep inside of me, filling me. There was so much it started to leak out around his cock.
I was never more thankful than I am now for going on the pill.
He didn't pull out right away. He stayed there, looking down at me. "I mean it. You are coming with me next time."
I knew I had no choice in the matter.
I am too far gone. If I go to the police now, there would be to many questions, and with the most recent murder, they would most likely say I could have stopped this madness.
But did I want it to stop?
Part 2 ♡ Part 4 (maybe coming soon)
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synesthete-sylke · 2 months
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ok so uh. men. and also geminislay
i wanted to do anatomy practice and pole dancing poses are hella cool so have some pole dancer scott, bdubs and gem
scott does it because he likes it and enjoys feeling attractive when he does it; he'd been doing in the longest out of the three
bdubs does it because he found out scott did it and thought it looked cool
and gem does it because it's a good workout and when scott found out she was learning he invited her to join him and bdubs during secret life
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lovestryke · 6 months
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and its like. i cant even act the same towards them because that just goes against my moral code and will make ME worse as a person. that used to be what it was like and thats why i was so mean to irl friends in high school
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rubberbandballqueen · 2 years
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i remember when i joined this site staff was one of the default blogs you followed (and probably the first blog i ever unfollowed a while later lol), but now that tumblr management has become, like, a force of good and all, it’s actually really interesting to follow their wip/changes blogs bc it truly feels like the vision they have for tumblr is, at its heart, community-oriented and personable.
and it’s nice!!!! it’s cozy!!!!!! everyone’s been saying it for ages as of late, but it feels! like!! a home!!!!
#the fact that we can TALK WITH THE STAFF and they will LISTEN AND RESPOND TO US is still so BEWILDERING to me!!!#i wasn't on the internet in the age of forums stuff like facebook and youtube where it feels like watching other people hang out#--instead of communally chilling online together-- is what i'm used to imagining when it comes to 'social media' and whatnot#we wrote essays in high school for the state and/or district abt how 'modern social media' makes teens feel isolated and whatnot#like the sources they gave for us to read and use were mostly just data-based and didn't really talk abt reasons why#and frankly i feel like we were too young to realize that online communities at one point could feel similarly homey to irl ones#like maybe a few of my friends hung out in forums and whatnot when we were in elementary/middle school#but mostly i remember the way online interaction was focused on places like facebook and stuff by the time i started participating online#which was admittedly later than my peers. i suspect there's at least one of my former classmates who hung out in forums#but i have no idea what he's up to these days and i imagine he's remade his online identity at least a few times by now#i looked up his old online name; it went inactive like 8 years ago which sounds about right! i was also right he was active in mc forums#i'm not gonna put in the effort to track him down that's pointless since after middle school we were footnotes in each others' lives#but yeah everything about this site feels so human and organic. like we the userbase made this site what it is with our own hands#n i'm so in love with that. how can i not be? it feels personal and deliberate. it might not be love put into this site all the time#but there's SOMETHING very human being pissed straight into its electronic veins and i love that as it is#the worm speaks
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headspace-hotel · 1 year
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I agree with the idea that a lot of humans nowadays have a severe lack of curiosity about the world, but I think there has to be a solution other than shame.
I think about this every day because the fate of our world hangs on curiosity: either we will rediscover the importance and wonders of the soil and bugs and flowers and water and finally with the whole natural world, or this way will be forgotten.
People raised in the great wasteland of the suburbs and roads and buildings have never seen most of the plants and creatures that are supposed to fill every field and meadow. So many humans have never seen with their own eyes more than a scant few of the most common of hundreds of wildflowers that are supposed to surround them. Some live in biomes designated forest and have never witnessed truly mature trees. They do not know what the birds sound like. When they see an ordinary deer, they are awed and amazed by it or even afraid of it. They have never eaten any of the delicious wild fruits that grow in their homeland; all birds except starlings and robins and sparrows are so strange and beautiful that they stare in wonder. They confront insects like people on an alien planet encountering an unknown life form: What is this? Will it hurt me?
I cannot even describe the grief I feel on behalf of humans that grow up and live in the wasteland of pavement and lawn. That we are expected to live in these brutal environments, that we are expected to be content without the right or ability to live alongside living creatures, to walk among wildflowers, to hear birdsong, to feel the plush softness of moss, to see even common bees and butterflies—the fact that we live, work, and raise our children in poisonous wastes where nearly everything has been wiped out, and the simplest and most abundant of natural pleasures are rare privileges—it's cruel. It's a crime against the human spirit. It makes me so angry and sad.
When I started researching plants, I had no idea that I would end up expanding my mind so much that I would be virtually a different person within the year. Before I learned, I could not have imagined the diversity and beauty that exists in the world. My mind did not have the tools to come up with it.
I lived for over twenty years believing that there was only one species of firefly. I lived for over twenty years not knowing that the Southeastern US has native bamboo. I had never tasted the indescribable flavor of a pawpaw or seen the iridescent vibrance of a red-spotted purple butterfly. I had only seen a Pileated Woodpecker out the window of a car. I had never touched true topsoil, the soft, living blanket of rich, sweet-smelling earth full of mycelium, as springy and plush as a mattress. Just one year ago, I knew nothing!
Humans, as creatures, are insatiably curious and hunger for beauty. It is so cruel to deprive a human of relationship with their natural environment.
It is no wonder that we are all addicted to the internet—we have a crucial need that is unfulfilled. Compared with a forest, the world of lawns and buildings is so ridiculously flat and unstimulating. You would expect humans in such a place to feel constantly bored, restless, frustrated, and incurably sad.
I feel that lack of curiosity can be a chosen thing, but it is also a defense mechanism against a world that will feel like sandpaper on the senses of the curious.
But we need curiosity to fix this—we need the ability to notice the living things that have crept in at the edges of the wasteland and be infected and tormented by their beauty. We need to recognize the forest reaching into our cage in the form of tiny saplings. We need to discard the word "weed," not because it is derogatory because it is fundamentally incurious—it designates a plant as needing no identity outside of its unwantedness. We must learn their names. We must wonder what their names are.
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munsonsmixtapes · 11 days
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Do Me a Favor?
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Find part two here!
Eddie x fem!shy!bestie!reader
Summary: you buy some weed from your best friend Eddie and after shotgunning from him, you both find yourselves wanting more
word count: 6k
cw: MDNI 18+, smut, oral (f receiving)
The cold air nipped at your skin as you knocked on the trailer door. You tightened your cardigan around you as waited for someone to answer, wondering what the hell you had been doing there. You didn’t smoke weed. You didn’t buy it either, but maybe you just wanted to see the cute metalhead who was supposedly the best dealer in town, even though he was one of your closest friends and let you come over whenever you wanted.
You had been friends with Eddie Munson since that one time he helped you pick the books that you had dropped when someone had bumped into you in the hallway in the tenth grade. He had grabbed your copy of Lord of the Rings and the two of you yapped about it all the way to the cafeteria where he let you sit with his group.
After letting you sit with him every day, he eventually asked you to join Hellfire Club and you happily agreed. Not long after, the two of you found yourselves hanging out outside of the club, occasionally getting dinner or watching a movie at your house.
Over time, you started to develop romantic feelings because how could you not have? Eddie was just so sweet and caring and he looked out for you like no one else did. And maybe it was silly to crush on your best friend, but you couldn’t help it. Aside from his charming personality, he also happened to be very easy on the eyes.
The door opened, pulling you of your thoughts and there Eddie was on the other side, looking like something out of your dreams in his cropped band t-shirt and sweatpants that he had rolled down a few times, giving you a great view of the patch of hair that was right under his belly button.
“Y/n?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He hadn’t been expecting you, but couldn’t help but feel intrigued to know why you were there.
“Hi, Eddie,” you nodded at him, not quite able to look him in the eye. You had hyped yourself up on the way there, but now that he was actually standing in front of you, you were feeling shy.
“What are you doing here?” He scratched the back of his head, causing his shirt to ride up even more and your mind suddenly went blank. “Thought you had to work.”
“I just got off and I um-I was wondering if I could buy some weed from you.” Eddie laughed at that. He always saw you as an innocent little thing who did everything she was supposed to. A goody-two-shoes that never broke the rules.
“Well,” he let out a chuckle. “I never thought I’d see the day.” Though, he kind of liked the idea of selling weed to you. Not only was it a funny thought, imagining you actually smoking the stuff, but it seemed like you were on edge every time he saw you and he thought you could use something to calm you down.
“We’re not in high school anymore. I’ve changed.” There was a little truth to your statement, but not much. The only thing that had changed about you since high school was that maybe you had a little more confidence and that you had finally gotten your braces off. Other than that, you were pretty much the same.
“So you have,” he nodded. “Well, why don’t you come inside and I’ll show you what I’ve got?” He held the door open for you as you stepped inside, letting it slam behind you. You looked around the place, loving how cozy it felt, especially since you were no longer in the cold weather. You rubbed your hands up and down your arms as you stepped further inside, trying to bring some more warmth to your body. You should have known that it was going to be a bad idea riding your bike across town without a jacket, but the damage was already done.
“The stuff’s in my room if you want to follow me.” Eddie couldn’t help but notice how quiet you were, but he had to admit that he thought it was cute. He knew that that was just who you were, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was making you feel nervous. He didn’t want you to feel pressured into taking the weed if you really didn’t want it. He didn’t know why he cared so much, it was just a normal sale.
Except it wasn’t. You were his best friend and had no experience with drugs whatsoever. He wanted to know why you had a sudden interest, but didn’t feel like it was his business to ask, no matter how close the two of you were.
Eddie had always thought you were pretty, but also thought that you were out of his league. He was the town freak and you were the shy girl who always had her nose in a book. He didn’t think that the two of you were exactly a great match. He didn’t want anyone starting rumors about you too, so he let you slip through his fingers. He decided that he was already risking enough by being friends with you.
But now there you were, standing in the doorway of his room, somehow having gotten prettier since he had seen you a few days ago. You were avoiding his eye contact, staring at the desk that was behind him. You were eyeing the stack of books that were sitting on top of it, wondering what they were, noticing that they were different than the ones that had been there before.
You slowly stepped further into the room, making a beeline for the stack, noticing that they were all new books. You slowly looked at all the covers, most of them being ones you had never heard of, but you were interested in every single one as soon as you read the back. Your face lit up at the book that was on the very bottom. It was your current favorite fantasy novel that you had read more times than you had cared to admit, but you had lost your copy and hadn’t been able to get a new one. You opened the book and let out a gasp at the little signature on the first page, wondering if he had bought it like that or if there was a signing that you didn’t know about.
Eddie watched you, still finding the way that you mumbled to words that were printed on the books to yourself adorable. For a second, he had completely forgotten why you were there. For a second, he had been convinced that you were there to hang out with him like usual.
“I can’t believe you have a signed copy of this.” You turned to face him, showing him the signature. He just let out a chuckle at that, finding you even more adorable. He didn’t think he had ever seen you so animated in the years that he had known you. “How did I not know this?”
“Oh, yeah, I got it a couple weeks ago,” he shrugged. “I honestly forgot that I had it.” The thing had been sitting on his desk since after the signing and he really had forgotten about it, his obsession with it being completely abandoned for another. “You can…keep it if you want.” Your eyes lit up at his suggestion but you quickly slumped your shoulders.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t take it from you.” You set the book back on the desk, knowing that you would have felt bad taking something like that from him. Even though it looked like it hadn’t been touched in a while, you could tell that it meant something to him.
“No,” he shook his head, moving towards you. He took the book and shoved it into your hands, his touching yours as he did so. “Take it, l/n. Please. It’s just been collecting dust here and a thing like that deserves to go to a good home.”
“Are you sure?” His eyes bored into yours to show you how serious he was and you couldn’t help but stare into them. They were hypnotizing, so brown and pretty. You had always been a sucker for brown eyes, especially Eddie’s. You knew that you’d do anything he asked just by looking into them, and you were sure that if he knew that fact, he would have gotten you into trouble.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” His hands were still on yours and you were so aware of his touch, loving how soft but rough his skin was. You could feel the cold metal that was his rings against your fingers that was mixed with the warmness of his hands. You just wanted to take them into your own, interlacing your fingers with his.
Eddie took the book from your hands and removed one of the straps of your tote bag from your shoulder and let the book fall inside before putting the strap right back. A smirk kicked up at the corner of his lips and you stared at them, thinking about how kissable they looked. They were so pink and plump and you just wanted to know what they felt like slotted between yours.
“Just so you don’t think about leaving it here,” he winked then turned on his heel to head to his bedside table. He pulled out a tin lunchbox from the bottom shelf and set it on the bed before opening it. He rifled through it, pulling out multiple plastic bags, trying to remember if he even had anything for a beginner. Most of the stuff he had was for people with a much higher tolerance and he didn’t want to start you on something you couldn’t handle.
Eddie found just what he was looking for at the bottom of the lunchbox and held it up to the light just to make sure, then nodded. He then closed the lunchbox and put it back where he found it and sat down on the edge of his bed, patting the spot next to him. You hesitantly sat down next to him, so close to the other end that if you sat any farther away from him, you’d fall to the floor.
Your heart was racing in your chest. You weren’t even going to smoke the stuff, you just wanted to be able to say that you bought some. Once you got home, you had every intention of throwing it into a drawer, never to be touched again. You just were afraid of what it would do to you so you definitely weren’t going to smoke it alone. That was just too scary. Maybe if you had more confidence, you could have asked him to smoke it with you.
“How much?” You asked, reaching for the money you had in your pocket and Eddie just shook his head.
“No need, l/n,” he rested his hand on top of yours to stop you. “First one’s always free,” he winked and your cheeks flushed.
“Could you do me a favor?” You asked, not even thinking about the words that were coming out of your mouth. Eddie titled his head to the side, wondering what you could have possibly wanted him to do for you.
“Anything,” he nodded quickly, ready to do whatever you asked, no matter how weird or ridiculous. “You know that.”
“Would you…want to smoke with me?” That was the last thing he was expecting to ask. He didn’t think that you ever want to get high with him.
“Yeah, sure,” he shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant about the whole thing. He hoped you couldn’t hear how hard his heart was beating his chest as he suddenly felt nervous about the whole thing. “You really want to?” He just wanted to be sure before he started anything.
“Please.” The words came out more desperate than you had intended, but you didn’t even care. You were just happy that he said the words you had been afraid to. Now you didn’t have to worry. He'd be right there to help you if something went wrong and you were sure that he wouldn’t judge if you did something that wasn’t right.
“Alright, well, I’m just gonna roll this up, okay?” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at his desk as he held up the baggie with his other hand. You felt a weight lift off your shoulders as Eddie gave you a reassuring smile, standing from his bed.
You just nodded in response and he pulled his chair out, sitting at his desk, getting to work. You stayed on the bed, not wanting to get into his space, just letting him do whatever he needed to. You sat patiently, trying not to think too much about what you were doing or you were going to back out. You only got one chance to smoke with your crush and you were going to take it.
Once Eddie had the joint all rolled up, he turned in his chair to face you then made his way back to the bed, sitting down on it hesitantly. Your comfort was his top priority and he was fully prepared to stop everything if you didn’t want to continue.He turned to face you, giving you his full attention. He had never smoked with a first-timer, but he still knew exactly what to do. He wanted to give you options, letting you have full control of the situation.
“So, we can either take turns or we can shotgun, which is where I inhale the smoke and blow it into your mouth. Whatever you want to do is fine with me.” He was being so sweet and gentle and it was getting really difficult for you to not fall for him even harder. You weighed your options and decided that shotgunning was probably the best idea. That way, there was less of a chance that you’d choke and maybe you just wanted to be close to Eddie.
“Can we…shotgun?” You words came out unsure and Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed, wanting to make sure that was actually what you wanted. You nodded enthusiastically, scooting closer to him again. “That’s what I want to do.”
“Then let’s do it.” Eddie turned to grab his lighter from his bedside table and smiled to himself since he had secretly wanted you to pick shotgun. He wanted to be able to touch you, to feel your lips on his, the whole idea making him a little hard. Once he had the lighter, he put the joint between his fingers before holding the lighter out to you. “Wanna do the honors, cutie?”
“Sure,” you nodded and took the lighter from him. You sparked the lighter up and cupped your hand around the joint like you had seen in movies and let it catch the flame before pulling away. You kept hold of the lighter as Eddie beckoned you forward with his free hand.
“C’mere,” he said and you obeyed, moving so you were sitting crisscrossed in front of him. He mimicked your actions and you both got so close that your legs were touching. “Make sure the smoke is in your mouth before inhaling, okay? Don’t want you choking.” You just nodded and Eddie took a drag and held the smoke in his mouth as you leaned forward even more. Your lips parted and Eddie reached up to your face slowly, giving you a look as if asking for permission.
“Do what you need to do,” you told him and his fingers took hold of your chin. His thumb reached up to your bottom lip and he pulled it down as if asking you to open your mouth wider. After it was wide enough, his hand moved to your cheek, pulling your face to his. He gingerly opened up, pressing his lips to your before pushing the smoke into your mouth. You did as he instructed and waited until all of the smoke was in your mouth before you took a deep breath.
Eddie leaned away so you could exhale, gauging your reaction to make sure that you were okay. Just from your first hit, you had been doing a lot better than other first-timers he had seen. Sure, you had only done well because he had told you what to do, but he still thought that you were a natural.
“I don’t feel anything.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you still felt very sober and Eddie just laughed in response.
“You’re not going to feel anything right away, hon.” His hand moved to your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Do you want another hit?”
“Yes,” you nodded and Eddie took another puff and held the joint away from the both of you as he grabbed hold of your waist, pressing his open mouth to yours once again. He blew the smoke into your mouth and you inhaled before you were supposed to, pulling away to cough into your arm. You had been so focused on the way Eddie’s lips felt against yours that you had completely forgotten what you were supposed to do.
“You okay?” He asked, his hand moving to your back, giving it a sympathetic rub. You just held your thumb up as an indication as you continued to cough. “C’mon, let’s go get some water.”
He stubbed the joint out onto his desk then took you by the hand, pulling you from the bed. You continued to cough all the way to the kitchen and couldn’t believe that you had ruined the good time you were having because you had gotten distracted.
Eddie quickly grabbed a glass from one of the cabinets and filled it up with water from the tap before handing it to you. You quickly gulped down as much of the beverage as you could and let out a sigh of relief as you set the empty glass down on the counter.
“You okay? You good?” He asked, the words rushing out of his mouth. He stood in front of you, his hands resting on your back, rubbing up and down in a comforting manner. You leaned into him, your forehead pressing against his chin.
Eddie didn’t know why he felt the need to comfort you and why it had become second nature to him when he was never good at or liked it, he didn’t know. Anytime he was around first-timers who inhaled improperly, someone else always stepped in to help while he watched from the sidelines. But now, there he was, fully prepared to give you whatever you needed.
“I’m good,” you assured him, your arms wrapping around his waist. “Can you just…hold me for a second?”
“I can hold you for all the seconds, honey.” You weren’t sure where the little nickname came from, but you were eating it up, wanting him to say it anytime he referred to you.
You pulled back to look at him and your eyes immediately shifted to his lips. You watched him wet them with his tongue, the wet sheen making them look even more inviting. It was like he was doing it on purpose, trying to torture you by dangling it in your face, knowing that you wouldn’t do anything about it.
Before you could stop yourself, you pressed your lips to his in a lingering peck before quickly pulling away. An embarrassed flush made its way upon your face and you covered your lips with the pads of your fingertips.
“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
You turned to leave and Eddie didn’t let you get far. He grabbed hold of your wrist and turned you around to face him. He took no time to cradle your face in your hands and capture your top lip between his two. Your hands found his waist and you pulled him to you so he was flush with your body. The kiss was slow and sweet, as if the two of you had all the time in the world. It was everything you had ever hoped, everything you could have ever imagined.
“Don’t ever apologize for that,” he insisted against your lips. “You have absolutely no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” That made you stop in your tracks. You quickly pulled away to look at him, your eyes widening.
“How long?” You were desperate to know exactly how long he had felt that way about you so you could see how much your crushes had overlapped each other.
“Since high school. Almost kissed you that night when I drove you home from Hellfire and I’ve been kicking myself ever since because I didn’t.”
You had remembered that night so vividly. You had ridden your bike, but Eddie had insisted on giving you a ride home. The two of you had talked the entire time about everything and nothing, occasionally giggling at little jokes that you had shared with each other. Even after Eddie had pulled into your driveway, you still sat there, neither of you wanting you to leave. You had noticed him leaning towards you, but you didn’t want to make any assumptions, so you just said your goodbyes and you just felt embarrassed for thinking that he was going to kiss you when it had been clear that he hadn’t.
All that time, you could have sworn that he was going to kiss you and you had been right. You actually hadn’t been delusional for once. For once, the guy that you had feelings for actually reciprocated them and you couldn’t have been more elated.
“Well, now you can make up for lost time.” Your hands rested against his back.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Eddie pulled you back in for another kiss, this one more rough and messy, the two of you so desperate for the other, taking exactly what you wanted from each other.
Eddie’s hands moved to your cardigan and he undid the first button so slowly, giving you a chance to back out if you wanted to. Once he got the okay to continue, he undid the rest and pushed it off of your shoulders. You removed it from your arms and let it fall to the floor.
You let your hands trail up his back and you pulled onto the bottom of his shirt before pulling it over his head. Once it was removed, he threw it to the side, grabbing hold of your waist again. His hands slipped to the strip of skin between the top of your jeans and the bottom of your tank top that had ridden up as he backed you up to the counter, your back hitting it.
He helped you get up on top of it and you spread your legs, Eddie stepping between them. His mouth was quickly on yours again as he licked into it, his tongue roaming around it as if he was trying to taste every single bit of it.
You let out a moan as his tongue swirled around yours and your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible. His hands traveled up your shirt and moved to your bra, his fingers resting on the clasp as if asking to take it off.
“Take it off,” you commanded. “Please.” The word came out like a whine and Eddie was happy to oblige, quickly unhooking the clasping before removing the straps from your arms and sliding the whole thing down and pulling it from your tank top. He tossed it behind him then looked at you, searching your face for any sign of hesitance.
“Are you sure you want to keep going?” He licked his lips, his chest rising and falling from being out of breath from your lips being attached. He would have never forgiven himself if he had done something you weren’t comfortable with. He just wanted to be one hundred percent sure.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Eds.” Your hand moved up to his cheek, stroking it with your thumb. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot and I want you to be my first.”
“Your first?” His eyes widened. He honestly had no idea that you were a virgin. “Y/n, are you sure you want it to be me?” Eddie wanted to be sure that it was actually what you wanted. That you were doing it with someone you cared about and he wasn’t sure he deserved to be your first.
“Very sure,” you nodded. “You’re the only one I trust to do it.” He felt his cheeks blush at your words, knowing that they meant that you had thought about having sex with him and his dick was getting harder by the second.
“Y/n, you have no idea how honored I am that you want it to be me, but I just want to be sure that you really want this.” Eddie thought it was the greatest honor of all that he was the one that you wanted to lose your virginity to and considered himself the luckiest man alive because of it.
“I’m sure,” you nodded. “I’ve thought about this a lot.”
“Oh, have you?” He teased and pressed another kiss to your lips. “Wanna move this to the bedroom?”
“I’d want nothing more.” Eddie’s lips slotted between yours once again and his hands moved out from under your shirt and wrapped around your waist, pulling you from the counter. Your ankles locked at his back and he carried you to his room, your lips still in the middle of a messy kiss.
He entered his room and slammed the door behind him with his foot, hurrying the two of you to his bed. He collapsed onto it and you fell on top of him. He then sat up and looked at you with a serious look in his eyes.
“I just want to let you know a few things before we get started,” he said, his hands resting on your thighs.
“Okay,” you nodded, ready to listen to whatever he needed to say.
“First, if I go too far or you don’t like something or even if you don’t want to continue, don’t be afraid to let me know. This is all about you, okay?” You just nodded in response and Eddie licked his lips before he continued.
“And on the opposite end, don’t be afraid to let me know what you do like. If you like something, feel free to make noise, and you don’t have to be embarrassed about being too loud. There’s no such thing.”
“Got it,” you nodded, looking him in the eyes so he knew that you completely understood what he was saying. You were desperate to get on with it already, but felt like you owed it to him to listen to what he was saying since it seemed pretty important.
“Do you want to start or should I?”
“You do it.” You wanted him to take the lead since he knew exactly what he was doing.
“Okay,” he replied, leaning towards you, his face only inches from yours. “Just gonna kiss you for now, okay?”
“Mhm,” you nodded and his lips attached to yours again. You felt a little more confident and you were the one to stick your tongue into his mouth, mimicking what he had done earlier, slowly laying him down onto the bed, removing your shirt as you did so. You then leaned down and pulled him into a kiss, your bare chest against his. Eddie brought his hands up and grabbed hold of your tits, the pads of his thumbs massaging your nipples, just enough to make them hard and you made a noise that he knew that he was going to grow very fond of.
Eddie pulled away from you, his mouth immediately moving to your tit. He moved his tongue back and forth, licking across your nipple and you moaned. The whole thing was so foreign to you but you liked the feeling.
Just as you were getting used to it, he took your nipple between his teeth and gave it a pull, causing your hands to move to his hair, giving it a yank. Eddie took that as an invitation to continue and moved to the other nipple, giving it the same attention. You gave it his hair another yank and let out one more moan, trying your best to not be self conscious about how loud you were.
“That’s it, honey,” he said, licking another stripe along your nipple. “Let it out.” Eddie pressed his lips to the spot between your breasts then flipped you over so that your back was against the mattress. He pressed open mouthed kisses all the way down to your stomach and stopped when he got to the top of your jeans.
“These look great on you,” he complimented. “But I’d think they’d look better on the floor. Can I remove them?”
“Yes, please.” He took no time to unbutton them and pulled down the zipper before pulling them down your legs and tossing them to the side. He pressed a kiss to the spot above your underwear then looked up at you for permission to remove them.
“Take them off, Eds. Please. I need you.” Your words came out so whiny and Eddie felt himself getting even more hard.
“Yes ma’am,” he responded before taking your underwear off. He was about to throw them on the floor, but you stopped him, putting your hands over his.
“You should keep them,” you told him. “To remember this night.”
“Isn't that objectification?” He liked the idea of keeping your underwear, but also kind of felt like he was treating you like an object by doing that.
“Not if I say it isn’t. Put them in your pocket.” Without a second thought, Eddie put the underwear into his back pocket before resting his hand on your knees, pulling you in for a bruising kiss. He then spread your legs open to get a peek at your pussy which was sopping wet.
“Wow,” he said, noticing that there was already a stain from where everything had leaked out onto his bedding. “This might be the wettest pussy I’ve ever seen. Mind if I get a taste?”
“I wouldn’t mind at all.” Eddie climbed off of the bed as he pulled you to the end of it. He then got onto his knees before throwing your legs over his shoulders. He looked up at you one more time for any signs of hesitance and when he saw how eager you looked, he slowly pushed his head between your thighs, burying his face into your cunt.
You let out a gasp as his nose brushed it and gripped the blanket as he licked a stripe from your slit to your clit. He swirled his tongue around the area and you couldn’t keep your sounds to yourself anymore.
“Oh, Eddie,” you moaned, your fingers gripping more of the blanket as he worked his magic with his tongue. He grazed the sensitive spot with his teeth and you whimpered which let him know that he could continue. He applied a little more pressure with his teeth, loving the sounds that the action elicited from you.
“So good, Eds. Need more.” You were desperate for whatever he was going to give you, not caring at all what it was, just as long it felt as good as him giving you head.
“Oh, this is just the appetizer, hon.” He dove into your cunt once more, shoving his tongue inside of it, causing you to moan the loudest you ever had.
“Fuck, Eddie, more.” He swirled his tongue around and around and you made the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard in his life, knowing that they’d still ring in his head after the night was over.
After a couple more moans, he removed his face from your pussy and practically threw himself on top of you, pressing his lips to yours in a filthy kiss, his tongue swirling around your mouth.
“See how good you taste, honey?” He asked. “Wanna taste you all the time.”
“And I’ll let you,” you responded. “Whenever you want.”
“I love the sound of that.” He slotted his lips between yours in a dizzying kiss before pulling away. He then reached for his bedside table and pulled the drawer open before taking out a condom, not even bothering to close the drawer back.
“I don’t think I’m ready,” you told him, your voice barely above a whisper. You knew he wouldn’t ever judge you, but still couldn’t help but feel like he was going to be mad at you. He let the condom fall to the floor then moved himself back on top of you, his hands taking yours, intertwining your fingers.
“Are you mad?” You looked up at him, and his face softened instantly. He would have never been mad at you for that. Maybe he was a little disappointed, but he thought he would have been wrong to blame your for something like that.
“Baby, no, of course I’m not mad at you.” He shook his head, giving your hands a squeeze. He couldn’t have been mad at you if he tried.
“Promise?” You needed constant reassurance or your brain would convince you that he was lying.
“I promise, honey,” he nodded. “How about we put on some pajamas and watch a movie? Anything you want.”
“I’d like that,” you nodded. You really had thought you were ready, but the whole thing still scared you. You really enjoyed everything leading up to it, but still found the penetration part to be too much for you at the moment.
Eddie rolled off of you and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants out of his dresser before tossing them to you. You threw them on while he headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed and still felt anxious about him being mad at you. What you had was so good and you were convinced that you had ruined it.
“I’m not mad at you,” he called from the bathroom. He knew you too well sometimes, always somehow knowing exactly what you were thinking. He knew how prone you were to overthinking and was always there to reassure you that your thoughts were in fact not true.
Eddie emerged from the bathroom and threw on a shirt before throwing himself onto the mattress and rolling back on top of you. He pressed another bruising kiss to your lips, his hands reaching for yours again. He then pulled away, a grin breaking out on his face as he looked down at you.
“I’m not mad at you,” he repeated, burying his face into your neck, snuggling into it.
“I know,” you replied, just like always, but he was never convinced, even though you really did know that he wasn’t mad at you.
“I’m not mad at you,” he said one more time, pressing a kiss to your neck before rolling off you.
He reached for the remote to his tv and turned it on before pulling you to his chest. You both watched the screen mindlessly while your arms wrapped around him. One of his arms draped across your waist while the other hand stroked your hair, something he always did to bring you comfort.
You looked up at him as he watched the tv and couldn’t help but feel lucky to have a best friend like him. Someone who was always there for you no matter what. Someone who would never judge you for anything, no matter what he really thought about it. Someone who you were completely and one hundred percent head over heels for. And maybe, just maybe, one of these days you’d get the guts to tell him how you really felt.
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aikastales · 1 month
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burnout (jk)
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𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: jeon jungkook asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend in order to get back at his ex-girlfriend. however, you soon realize his true intentions.
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𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: bball player!jungkook x student journalist fem!reader
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𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾𝗌: yandere, dark romance, slow burn
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total word count: 10k
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PART ONE
Why was Jeon Jungkook at the Communications building? 
He had a red and white leather jacket on top of a white shirt, jeans, and his black combat boots. His long hair was a mess, which you guessed was due to his helmet, and when he saw you walking down the steps of the building, he perked up, smiled, and waved at you. 
At first, you weren’t even sure if it was you he was waving at, so you were a bit stunned, and looked over your shoulder. But then, you heard your name called by him. You and Jungkook were not friends. Sure, you exchanged friendly nods at each other whenever your paths would cross, but that was the end of it. In fact, the only reason why you even exchanged those friendly nods was because of Taehyung—your cousin who also happened to be his best friend since preschool. If it wasn’t for him, you and Jungkook would just pass by each other without so much as a glance. 
And so, it was only natural that you were confused and surprised when you saw him leaning against his motorcycle in front of your college’s building, apparently waiting for you. 
“Y/N, hey,” Jungkook greeted with a smile on his handsome face once he was near you. 
Still confused, you returned the smile, adjusting the strap of your backpack hanging over your shoulder. “Hi, Jungkook. Is everything okay?” 
He nodded. “Yeah, everything is—everything’s fine,” he said. Then, he cleared his throat. “Do you have time like right now? My treat.” He asked, his doe eyes piercing into yours. 
You could not believe what you just heard. “What?” Was all you could reply. 
Jungkook chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his gloved hand. “I know. It’s a shock, right? Believe me, I am too, but I just really need to talk to you about something. I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t so important.” 
“Is it about Taehyung? Is he okay? Did he get into trouble?” You asked, alert. It was the only logical answer why Jungkook waited for you and why he wanted to talk to you. Taehyung was the only person connecting the both of you. 
Jungkook shook his head. “No, no, it’s not about Taehyung, but he’s fine. He’s in his class right now. Look,” he sighed deeply, licking his lower lip with the tip of his tongue before staring at you once more. “Yiseul, I just really need to talk to you. In private.”
You debated whether to go with him or not. This was Jeon Jungkook. Despite his tattoos, broad shoulders, piercings, and big bike—he was harmless. He was your cousin’s best friend, and even though you two weren’t friends, he looked like he needed one at the moment. Besides, you wouldn’t deny that a part of you wasn’t curious as to why he needed to talk to you. That and the fact that because you had been in love with him since you met him when you were thirteen, how could you say no to something that you had only imagined in your wildest dreams? 
“Okay. Okay, let’s go,” you agreed, heart beating rapidly. “Where are we going?” 
Jungkook’s smile widened when you agreed. “There’s a basement cafe twenty minutes from here. It’s called Seven.” 
The both of you began making your way towards his motorcycle. “Just how private is this conversation going to be?” you asked supposedly only for yourself, but accidentally, you said it out loud. 
“I guess you already have an idea on how private it needs to be considering the location,” he chuckled. “But don’t worry—I promise you’ll get home in one piece.” 
Jungkook handed you his extra helmet, and you were thankful that you didn’t wear a dress that day. After placing your backpack in front of your chest, you wore the helmet. “Can you give me a hint on what it’s about?” 
You couldn’t help it. You were curious. 
“I remember you always being curious, Y/N. Glad you haven’t changed at all,” Jungkook said, mounting his motorcycle. “In twenty minutes, you’ll know. If you ride now, you’ll know in fifteen minutes.” 
You thought he looked so attractive as he smiled and waited for you on his motorcycle. His smile was so infectious that you couldn’t help but to return it. “Alright, fine,” you say. Then, you mounted his motorcycle, placing your hands on his firm shoulders. 
“Ready?” Jungkook asked, placing his key into the ignition, briefly glancing at you. 
“Yeah, ready,” you replied. He started the engine and you held onto your backpack for dear life. You had seen Jungkook drive his motorcycle before and the only way you could describe it was fast. 
“Alright. Let’s go.” 
Jungkook drove off. 
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As promised, fifteen minutes later, you arrived at Seven. It was indeed a basement cafe, secluded from the busy city streets and tucked in between fruit stands and ready-to-wear clothes inside an alley. You were the first to get off his motorcycle, taking your helmet off. Shaking your head, you took in your surroundings while Jungkook took his motorcycle garments off. 
The alley was alive with mostly elderly people buying fruits and high schoolers buying the RTWs. The tangerines stood out due to their bright color against the setting sun. You wondered when and how Jungkook came to know the place, if he frequented it, why he chose this place over all other cafes. 
“Y/N? Let’s go inside?” Jungkook asked, gesturing to you to enter the cafe first. 
You nodded, entering Seven. As a basement cafe, the first thing you noticed were the windows placed near the ceiling. A permanent sepia hue covered the entire establishment due to its yellow orange lights. The walls were painted gray, tables and chairs white. There were only a few tables and chairs, and Jungkook led the way to the one at the very back. 
He pulled the chair out of you which you thanked him for, and you sat down. Jungkook followed afterwards, placing the helmets on the table between the both of you. 
“What do you want?” He asked, pulling his chair closer to the table. 
“Honestly, I’m more curious on why you want to talk to me than have any drinks here,” you told him, placing your backpack on the floor beside your chair. 
Jungkook chuckled, leaning his back against his chair. “Alright. Should I just say it?” 
You nodded. 
“I was hoping that you’ll pretend to be my girlfriend to make Haemin jealous,” Jungkook said so casually that you were completely and utterly stunned. Did you just hear him correctly? Upon seeing your reaction, he continued, “She broke up with me a month ago, and to be honest, I saw it coming already. We were getting into a lot of meaningless fights, always finding faults in one another, and just overall, being toxic to each other. So, when she broke up with me, I did not put up a fight, and just let her be,” Jungkook scoffed, shaking his head lightly. “Then, I learned that she was seeing Han Riyeo, that fucking bastard from Yongsan, behind my back for three months, and I want to get back at her.” 
His explanation did not help you grasp what he just said previously. You were still stunned, but you managed to ask, “Why me?” 
“For reasons I still don’t know, Haemin was always jealous of you,” he confessed.
Now, that was a surprise. “What? You and I barely had any interaction.” 
“I know, but I suspect it’s because you’re there whenever I hang out with Taehyung,” Jungkook shrugged his shoulders, then ran his fingers through his hair. “So? Will you help me, Y/N?” 
“This is pretty childish, don’t you think?” you told him, eyebrows furrowed. 
Jungkook crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll pay you. I know you need the money. Taehyung mentioned you’re saving for the deposit on this apartment you want to rent.” 
You stared at him, trying to find any trace of mischief in his eyes and body language but found none. Jungkook was serious. A part of you knew that the logical answer would be to decline his offer. It was childish, as you had told him. It was a nuisance and it would do nothing but bring problems and complications in your life. Your life was complicated enough, and you didn’t need to add Jeon Jungkook’s fake girlfriend to your list of complications. 
But this was Jeon Jungkook. The person you had been in love with since you were thirteen. The person you supported, cheered on, and loved unconditionally from afar because it was all that you could do. You would be lying if you said that you did not imagine yourself being his girlfriend—going to every game, wearing his jersey, riding his motorcycle, going on dates, taking lots of photos and videos of him, hugging, and even kissing him—because you did, countless times. You would also be lying if you didn’t think that you could love him better than Haemin ever did. 
They said love makes you do crazy things. You didn’t think that applied to you. You loved Jeon Jungkook, and you didn’t think that that love would fade anytime soon. So, even though you knew that this was pretend and paid, you said, “Okay. I’ll do it.” 
After your orders arrived, the both of you continued your conversation. 
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“So, how will this work?” you asked, sipping your iced chocolate drink. 
Jungkook put up a finger, chewing the cheeseburger he ordered, and afterwards, he replied, “We act like a couple. Go on dates, post them on social media, and all that.” 
You were never someone who did things half-assed. If you were going to get paid to fake date someone, you might as well go all out. Also, perhaps, a part of you just wanted to make the most out of being Jeon Jungkook’s fake girlfriend. 
“I don’t think that would be enough to make Haemin jealous. If you really want that, we should do the things you either only did with her or promised to do with her,” you pointed out.
Jungkook nodded. “I see. You got a point.” 
“So, what are those things? The things you did for her and the things you promised to do with her?” 
He inhaled deeply, scratching the side of his nose as he thought. “Well, I pick her up everyday. Take her out on picnic dates, study with her, and I go to her recitals.” 
You nodded. “Okay. Then, you should pick me up everyday, take me out on picnic dates, study with me, and well, I don’t really do any recitals.” 
“Alright. I’ll do that,” Jungkook grinned. “As for the things I promised to do with her—the first thing that popped in my mind was that I promised I’ll take her to my brother’s wedding.” 
“We shouldn’t involve our families in this. Me being Taehyung’s cousin is complicated enough,” you remarked. 
“Okay. How about this? We made plans to go out of town during winter break. Do you wanna do that?” 
“Where?” 
“My sister-in-law runs a small resort in Busan. It’s by the beach,” 
You pressed your lips together, nodding. “Okay. That could work.”
“For my part, you have to go to my games. That’s pretty much all you have to do, and of course, the dates.” 
“That’s already a given,” you told him. “I’m assigned to cover your games this season.” 
“Right. You are the News editor of the Times. I’m honored,” Jungkook placed a hand on his chest, bowing his head at you. 
You chuckled, shaking your head. “I have a question.” 
“Go for it.” 
“What will happen when Haemin gets jealous? Will we “break up” and the two of you will get back together?” you asked, cautiously, but also curiously. 
“I have no plans of getting back together with her,” Jungkook answered. “But when she finally gets jealous and tells me about it, then revenge is served. I guess then we’ll break up. But don’t worry, I’ll pay you handsomely every time so you could move into that apartment of yours. It’s the least I could do after you agreed to do this with me.” 
It shouldn’t have stung the way it did. After all, this was only paid and pretend, but it did. 
“Alright,” you said. “We should shake hands on it.” 
You extended your hand toward him and Jungkook sealed the deal with his firm handshake. “Starting today, you’re my girl, Y/N.” 
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You would be the first to admit that looking after Kim Taehyung was something you did out of debt of gratitude toward his parents. After your father passed away when you were only eleven years old, your mother couldn’t afford to send you to school, so his parents financed your education since then and until now that you were in college. You lived with Taehyung at the condominium they bought for him near the university and since you were on scholarship through your membership at the official student publication of Jamsil University, The Jamsil Times, they only paid for your miscellaneous fees every semester. 
Because of these, you felt like Taehyung was your responsibility. You had to take care of him, look after him, tutor him, make sure he did all his school work, attend his classes, and be there every time he asked you to. It felt like when it came to him and his parents, you couldn’t say no because if you did, you could easily lose your housing and education.
It didn’t help that Taehyung seemed to attract trouble wherever he was. He even gained a nickname for it in high school which followed him in college, “Trouble Taehyung.” You couldn’t remember the times you apologized on his behalf, woke up in the middle of the night from a call from one of his so-called friends asking if you could pick him up as he was drunk and bruised, and ensured none of his troubles reached his parents. 
Tonight was no different. 
You woke up from the sound of your phone vibrating against your desk. You didn’t realize that you had fallen asleep, studying for your upcoming midterms exam, and when you woke up, you could feel the soreness of your neck and lower back. With one eye open, your vision adjusted to the bright light coming from your phone, and saw Park Jimin’s name flashing on your screen. Immediately, you knew why he was calling you. There could only be one reason: Kim Taehyung. 
“Hello?” your voice was hoarse, groggy from your slumber. 
“Y/N? I’m sorry I woke you up, didn’t I? It’s—,” 
“Taehyung, I know. What happened this time?” you sighed deeply, rubbing your face with your free hand. “Where are you guys?” 
“He got into an argument with this guy, and well, it led to a fight. He’s bruised, bleeding, but he refuses to go to a hospital, but—,” 
“Hey! Is that Y/N? I told you not to call her, Park Jimin!” you could hear Taehyung’s voice in the background which made you sigh once more. Moments later, it was Taehyung who was on the call with you. “Y/N, sorry. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Jimin’s just a worry wart.” 
“Taehyung,” you were tired and it was evident in your tone. “Go to the hospital if you’re bleeding. It might get infected.” 
“I can’t,” he replied. “Mom is going to find out. It’s a small world, you know that,” his tone was low, cautious, as though he did not want anyone else hearing him. “I’m fine. I’ll put on some ointment and band-aid and I’m good.” 
You wished you didn’t give a shit about him. But you did. Whether it was out of debt of gratitude or not, you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you didn’t help him. Perhaps, you had gotten so used to it that it had become a part of you already, like a hobby, like a memory. 
“Where are you, Taehyung?” 
“Y/N, seriously, I’m—,” 
“Taehyung, just tell me where you are,” your patience was wearing thin and Taehyung knew that. 
“We’re at Jungkook’s apartment,” he muttered. 
Even the mention of his name was enough for the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy. Even by just hearing his name, your irritation seemed to slowly fade away. 
“Okay. I’ll be there in a while. I’m gonna use your car, okay?” 
“Okay. Y/N, I’m sorry,” Taehyung apologized and you could hear his sincerity. 
“Don’t be,” you told him as you stood up from your chair. “See you. I’ll hang up now.” 
Just how deep does blood run? 
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You were at Jungkook’s apartment minutes later, thanks to no traffic and him only living fifteen minutes from Taehyung’s condominium. When you rang the bell to his unit, you already expected that he would be the one to answer the door. You just didn’t expect that he would be wearing gray sweatpants and a white loose muscle tee showing off his toned tattooed arm. Seeing him in that light, you couldn’t help but feel more attracted to him. Jungkook was truly a sight to see. 
“Hey,” he greeted you with a smile. “Come inside.” 
“Thanks,” you told him, entering his apartment. It was simple, neat, and smelled of vanilla. You took off your shoes by the doorway, placing a hand on the wall beside you. “Where’s Taehyung?” 
“Kitchen,” he replied behind you. “Y/N,” his hot breath fanned over your exposed neck, making you shiver. “I’ll linger around you, alright? That way, they could get a hint that something’s going on with us. Is that okay?” he whispered. 
His low tone was simply mesmerizing. “Okay,” you breathed out. Thank god you had your hand on that wall otherwise you would have literally fallen. 
“Okay,” he chuckled, and led the way to the kitchen. 
“Y/N!” Taehyung exclaimed when he saw you. He was sitting on one of the stools in the kitchen island while Jimin looked through the refrigerator. 
You gave him a tight-lipped smile and made your way toward him, placing the plastic bag you hand in your hand on the counter beside you. Taehyung jumped off the stool he was sitting on, instantly giving you a squeezing hug. He was always an affectionate boy growing up. You weren’t so you found it uncomfortable at first. But the more Taehyung did it, you got used to it. 
“Let me see your bruise,” you guided him back to the stool, and began taking out the first aid you bought along the way. The bruise wasn’t as serious as you thought it would be. You were expecting that he would have a black eye, a deep cut that would need stitches, but it was manageable by you. Jimin was overreacting, you concluded. “What happened? How did you get this?” 
As you began to clean the cut on Taehyung’s cheek, Jimin sat down across from your cousin while Jungkook made his way near you. 
“One minute I was dancing next to some girl, the next, her boyfriend landed a punch on my face. I didn’t know she had a boyfriend—she told me she was single,” Taehyung explained. 
“Didn’t know my ass,” Jimin scoffed. “Everyone knows Heejin is with Taemin. Everyone also knows that Taemin’s a crazy jealous bastard. You were just looking for trouble, as always.” 
“I was not,” your cousin retorted, throwing the medical tape you bought at his friend. 
You clicked your tongue in annoyance. “Stop it, you two,” you hissed, pressing the cotton ball a bit harder against Taehyung’s bruise. He winced. “Is that true?” you asked him. 
Taehyung didn’t answer. You sighed. 
“You knew it was wrong, and yet, you did it anyway knowing it’ll just get you in trouble,” you muttered. “Why did you do it?” 
Taehyung sighed deeply. “Because Taemin’s a piece of shit.” 
“You’re also a piece of shit,” Jimin snorted. “Both of you are the biggest pieces of shit at Jamsil.” 
“Do you wanna get punched?” 
“Let’s go right now,” 
“Hey, stop it. You’re so fucking loud,” Jungkook reprimands the two bickering men. “You already woke me up from my sleep by going here. Don’t wake up the entire fucking building.” 
Moments later, you finished tending to Taehyung’s cut. “All done. Come on, let’s go home.” 
Taehyun didn’t protest. You began to clean up your mess, placing everything back into the plastic bag. Silence filled Jungkook’s kitchen. The three of you weren’t close so there were no conversations where all of you could participate. 
“Let’s go,” you bowed your head at Jimin as a farewell which he returned. Then, your eye caught Jungkook’s gaze. You weren’t sure what to do. Fortunately, Jungkook was quick-witted. 
“I’ll walk you guys out,” he said coolly, pushing himself off of the sink he was leaning against. 
“No need. Just go back to sleep. Thanks for letting us in,” Taehyung shook his head, patting his best friend’s shoulder as he passed by him. 
“I insist,” Jungkook responded. 
“Can I stay here tonight?” Jimin asked Jungkook as he made his way out of the kitchen. 
“Yeah sure,” 
You followed Jungkook and Taehyung out of the former’s apartment. As you and your cousin slipped on your shoes, Jungkook waited outside his apartment. 
“Are you mad at me?” Taehyung asked, meeting your gaze. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” 
“I’m not mad at you,” you assured him. “But you have to stop involving and getting yourself into trouble, Tae. Sooner or later, you’ll end up getting really hurt.” 
“I will, I promise,” he smiled at you and you nodded, exiting the apartment. 
The three of you walked down the hallway; the two boys walking on your sides. You weren’t sure if Jungkook was consciously doing it, but it was making your heart pound. Whenever your fingers brushed against his, there was an electric shock that flew through your body. And as you reached the end of the hallway and in front of the elevator, and when the doors opened, Jungkook placed his hand at your lower back, gesturing you to enter the lift first. 
You looked at him, and there was a knowing smile plastered on his face that made you blush. “After you,” he said. 
You were fucking lovestruck. 
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Championships cast a spell in your school. Jamsil University’s premier sport was basketball and with an all-star lineup this year—it was not even up for discussion that your university would be one of the teams playing out to become this year’s champions.
To say the least, sports were not your thing. While you understood the basics, it wasn’t something you were interested in. Your father had enrolled you in a tennis class once but after witnessing how, simply out, awful you are at the sports, he dropped the ‘I want my daughter to be athletic’ narrative he was going for. That being said, you rarely attended any of the games Jamsil athletes participated in. But seeing as you were assigned to cover the basketball games this season, you had no other choice. Besides, your “boyfriend” was playing. 
That’s how you found yourself at the gym of Jamsil, stressed as you took pictures and typed down the game on your phone. Frustrated, you sat on the bench behind you as the bell rang, signaling the end of the first half. As you read the draft on your notepad, you shook your head at the numerous times you used the word ‘tackle’—in your defense, it was all that you could see during the game. It was a particularly brutal game which made you wonder, was the game something more personal for the players? You only heard rumors, after all.
With a sigh, you made a mental note to fix the notes once you’re home. Standing up, you placed the phone inside your jeans’ back pocket and readied the Times’ camera to capture the ‘Half-time huddle’ that Bang Chan, the Sports Editor, had specifically asked you to take. As you made your way towards the basketball team, you took some shots of the audience as well as the Jamsil’s Cheerleading Team performing in the middle of the court. The blaring music and loud cheers from both schools as the cheerleaders performed filled the entire gymnasium, unconsciously making you smile. It was not everyday that you saw some sort of unity at your uni.
You focused your camera on the huddled team of Jamsil but dissatisfied, you tried another angle. Bang Chan’s words play in your mind: “The half-time huddle is one of the most important shots during these games, Y/N. The play they’re setting up will either make them or break them. Make sure you capture it.”
Then, the idea hit you. You hurriedly made your way on the other side of the team, hearing Coach Song’s booming voice telling his players the game even with all the screaming and cheers. You moved the towels and water bottles on the bench aside, then you stepped on it and placed the camera above the huddled team. Smiling, you knew you found the perfect angle. Making sure that the camera was focused, you inhaled deeply and as you were about to click the shutter button—a face turned to face the lens and a gasp escaped your lips, shocked and you felt yourself losing balance. Bracing for impact, you clutched the camera tightly against your chest and closed your eyes with one thing in mind: If this breaks, I am so screwed.
It felt like eternity as you waited for the impact. Opening your eyes, you see a pair of round brown eyes, staring at you in concern, eyebrows furrowed. Your breath hitched in your throat as realization hit you. Around your waist, you felt strong arms supporting you; hot breath fanned your face and you felt something liquid dripping on your forehead.
“Y/N, are you okay?” When he spoke, you immediately snapped back to reality and you wriggled yourself out of his grip—flustered and ground-swallow-me-up embarrassed. Your cheeks were burning as you collected yourself. “Y/N?”
It was as if the entire gymnasium had their focus on you and Jungkook. 
“Jeon, what the fuck, get back here,” Coach Song hissed.
Fuck me, you thought as you cleared your throat. “Thanks,” you whispered to him. 
Jungkook smiled—the boyishly charming smile that made you fall in love with him all those years ago. Then, he did something that made you fall in love with him all over again. 
“Wish me luck, babe,” Jungkook said before wrapping his tattooed arm around your waist and placing a kiss on your cheek. “The game’s on, Y/N. No turning back now.” 
You wished this was real. His kiss was real. But even if it wasn’t, indeed, there was no turning back now. The game had begun. 
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PART TWO
As predicted and expected, Jamsil won the championship. But instead of the student body celebrating the fourth championship in a row, apparently, the majority could only talk about you and Jungkook—specifically the kiss he gave you on the cheek. You had expected this, of course. After all, Jeon Jungkook was Jamsil University’s golden boy. He was popular, smart, and overall, an exemplary student who not only excelled in his sports, but in his academics as well. Moreover, he was also the president of the photography club. 
What you didn’t expect was Taehyung lashing out at you. You expected him to be confused, baffled, in disbelief, but lashing out at you? You were confused, to say the least. Taehyung had never done it before. 
After finishing covering the basketball game, you hurriedly made your way back to the Publication Office. Once there, you took off the camera around your neck, breathing heavily. With both your hands on your table, you hung your head low, squeezing your eyes shut, and letting yourself calm down. It was during this moment that the door at the office swung open and your cousin stepped in. 
You looked at him over your shoulder and for the first time, you saw fury in his eyes. 
“You’re dating Jungkook?” He asked. “Tell me the truth.” 
With your lips pressed tightly, you nodded. Taehyung scoffed, tilting his head to the side, and shaking it in disbelief. 
“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N? You and Jungkook?” He pressed, taking a step towards you. “When did it start? How did it start? Why are you dating him?” 
“I don’t really need to explain myself to you, Taehyung,” you told him. “Especially who I’m dating.” 
“Yes, you do. You need to explain that to me,” he retorted. 
“Why? Why do I need to explain it to you?” 
“Because you’re dating my fucking best friend and you’re my cousin!” He exclaimed, catching you off guard as you flinched. When he saw this, Taehyung’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you. I just—I don’t get it.” 
“What don’t you get?” you asked, turning to completely face him. “Why someone like me is with someone like him?” 
“Y/N, that’s not what I mean,” Taehyung sighed deeply. “I just feel like—like the two most important people in my life betrayed me.” 
You exhaled deeply. In a way, you could understand him. You could understand where he was coming from. But before you could respond, Jungkook appeared by the doorway of the office. 
“Don’t get mad at her, Tae, it’s my fault for not telling you first,” Jungkook said. He was still in his jersey, covered in sweat, and one hand holding a bottle of red Gatorade. There was a towel hanging around his neck. He walked towards you, and when he stood beside you, he held your hand. “I’m sorry if you feel like we betrayed you. We just wanted to find the right time to tell you.” 
“Right time,” Taehyung scoffed once more. “It didn’t look like it when you kissed her.” 
Jungkook squeezed your hand. It sent a jolt throughout your body. “What was I supposed to do? My girlfriend was there,” Jungkook’s response only riled Taehyung more. Upon seeing this, the basketball player said, “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. But there’s nothing you could do or say that could make us break up, Tae. I’m sorry but you’re just gonna have to deal with it.” 
“Can you fucking leave? I need to talk to Y/N privately,” Taehyung hissed, rolling his eyes. 
This time, you cut Jungkook before he could reply. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’ll see you after.” You looked at your fake boyfriend, smiling at him. 
Jungkook looked like he didn’t want to leave so you squeezed his hand. He clicked his tongue, sighing. “I’ll change and meet you outside the building.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. 
You nodded and once again, he pressed his lips against your cheek, making you blush but now, out of embarrassment because your cousin was literally in front of you. Taehyung groaned, throwing his head back. “Leave, Jeon Jungkook!” He exclaimed, pulling him off of you. 
Jungkook chuckled before making his way out of the office. 
Once he was out of earshot, Taehyung stepped closer towards you. “Y/N, you’re right—who you date is not something I should mind or dictate. But you’re my cousin and I care about you and I don’t want you to get hurt. Jungkook—he’s my best friend in the world and has been since we were little. I know him. So, the two of you together—I just can’t accept it.” 
You didn’t know why you were feeling angry as the seconds passed. “We’re not asking for your blessing, Taehyung.” 
“Y/N, you don’t understand. Jungkook may be charming and all that goody two shoes shit in front of everyone, but he’s trouble. You’re only setting yourself up for a lifetime of heartbreak,” your cousin shook his head. “Please. Date whoever you want; not just Jungkook.” 
“I made up my mind, Tae,” you said, shaking your head. “I want to be with him and you can’t do anything about it. I’m gonna go home. I’m tired and exhausted. I know you’ll be going to the afterparty so please don’t get yourself into trouble. Take care, Tae.” 
“Y/N,” he called out but you didn’t respond anymore. You just packed up your things. “Y/N, please.” 
“See you at home, Tae,” you gave him a small smile before leaving the office. 
Why was he so adamant that you don’t date Jeon Jungkook? This question popped in your head as you were making your way out of the Communications building. But you erased it in your mind—Taehyung was just shocked, probably weirded out too that his best friend and cousin were dating. 
Why is he trouble? Another question propped in your mind. 
You sighed deeply. All these questions would be answered when you meet with Jungkook as you made a mental note to ask him. For now, you just wanted to rest. 
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The buzzing sound of your phone vibrating against your desk woke you up from your slumber. With a groan, you sat up, stretching your arms wide, cracking your neck, and letting out a relieved sigh. You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but the last thing you remembered was fixing your planner. When you looked at the caller ID, Jungkook’s name flashed on the screen. For a moment, you were confused why he was calling you, and then it hit you. 
I’ll change and meet you outside the building. 
You quickly answered the call. “Jungkook, hey.” 
“Y/N, are you okay? I waited for you outside the Comm building, but Taehyung said you went home. I’ve been trying to reach you,” Jungkook sounded concerned, in contrast to the sound of cheering and music in the background. He must have been at the afterparty already, you concluded. 
“I’m okay,” you assured him. “I’m sorry. I was just tired so I went home. Are you at the afterparty?” 
“Yeah,” he replied. “The guys dragged me to it, but it’s not really fun. Or maybe I’m just not in the mood. I’m glad you’re okay though. I was worried.” 
Your heart fluttered yet again. 
“I’m okay. Have fun at the afterparty,” you said, rubbing your eye with your knuckle. 
“Y/N, I was hoping you could come tonight, here, at the afterparty, and start our agreement.” 
Just like that, you were reminded of reality. 
“Oh,” you replied, hoping you didn’t sound disappointed. “Um, I don’t know where that is.” 
It was common knowledge that invitations for after parties at Jamsil for championships were only through word of mouth. Not everyone was invited. The only reason you knew of the location of the last three after parties were because of, again, your cousin Taehyung. 
“It’s okay, I’ll come pick you up.” 
“I don’t know what I should wear. I don’t go to a lot of parties,” you said, playing with the loose thread on the hem of the shirt you were wearing. It was a habit of yours whenever you were nervous—you needed to play with something whether it was your necklace, earrings, rings, sleeves, etcetera. 
“It doesn’t matter. You look good in everything, Y/N. I’m serious,” Jungkook responded. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, okay? Don’t worry too much about what to wear. Just wear what’s comfortable.” 
“Okay. Drive safely, Jungkook.” 
When the phone call ended, you were reminded of what tonight would be, and gone were the worries about what you should wear. Tonight was going to be the night you were going to officially begin helping Jungkook take his revenge on Haemin. You felt like throwing up. 
You were hit by the reality, once again, of what this agreement was about. Jungkook wasn’t being sweet to you because he wanted to but because he needed to. He wasn’t inviting you to the afterparty because he wanted to but because he needed to. He was only talking to you because he was paying you. It was time for you to take things at face value. With that in mind, you began to change. 
True to his word, Jungkook arrived fifteen minutes later. It was a whiplash when you saw him at the door, waiting for you instead of your cousin. Wearing a white Calvin Klein shirt tucked under his washed jeans, black combat boots, and his curly hair parted in the middle, he was nothing short of beauty even in the simplicity of his attire. In one hand, he was clutching a denim jacket. 
“Hey,” he greeted as soon as you opened the door. “You look great, Y/N.” 
You suppressed the urge to smile and just nodded. Stepping outside of Taehyung’s condominium unit, you avoided his gaze. “Let’s go.” 
“Is everything okay?” he asked. 
You nodded, clutching the strap of your messenger bag. “Everything’s fine. Let’s just go. Where’s the afterparty anyway?” 
“Y/N,” Jungkook’s hand found its way gently around your wrist, stopping you on your tracks. “Seriously, what’s wrong?” 
“Nothing’s wrong, Jungkook. I just really wanna get over this,” you said with a sigh. 
“I don’t believe you,” he pointed out, still holding onto your wrist. “We don’t have to go to the afterparty if you don’t want to.” 
“No, let’s go. Otherwise, how will you make Haemin jealous?” you stated, plastering a smile on your face even though you were anything but happy. “The sooner she gets jealous, the sooner she will want to be with you again, and the sooner I’ll get my deposit, and move out from here. The sooner everyone wins.” 
There was an indescribable expression on Jungkook’s face. Although his grip on your wrist remained gentle, you could feel the tension brewing between the both of you. 
“You’re right,” he muttered after a while. “Let’s get this over with.” 
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As expected, the afterparty was at a club. You hadn’t been to one but it was exactly as you expected a club to be. Packed with dancing college students, drinks everywhere, smoke in the air, suffocating you the moment you entered the establishment, blinding red, blue, green lights, and booming EDM and Top 40 hits songs blasting on the speakers. Jungkook led the way, holding your hand tightly, and you held his just as tight. You didn’t know where he was taking you, but you guessed that it was where Haemin would be. After all, she was the reason why you were here. 
So, it was a surprise when you passed by her and her friends, and toward the staircase. 
“Jungkook! Where are we going?!” you yelled over the loud music. . 
Jungkook didn’t respond, but you knew that he heard you because he pulled you closer to him. And you let him lead you because it was him. You’d let him lead you anywhere if it meant being this close to him. Because no matter what you tell yourself—that this was all fake and pretend and paid—a part of you would always, always believe that he, in some way, reciprocated your feelings sincerely. 
Jungkook passed by the people greeting him along the way until, finally, you reached the empty rooftop. Overlooking the city and its skylines, it was simply breathtaking. There were only broken benches, bottles of beers and discarded cigarette buds on the rooftop along with cracked pots of withered flowers. Here, Jungkook let go of your hand, reached for something from his denim jacket’s pocket—a pack of cigarette and lighter—and offered it to you. 
“I don’t smoke,” you simply stated. It was news to you that he smoked. You knew athletes were forbidden due to health reasons, but you weren’t also naive that you didn’t think some did. 
He nodded, picked one from the box, placed it in between his lips, lit it up, and began to smoke. You took a deep breath, and made your way toward the edge of the rooftop. Moments later, Jungkook was beside you. 
“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” he said, the smell of cigarette strong, making you nauseous. But you didn’t tell him that. 
You thought hard. Jungkook knew nothing about you besides being Taehyung’s cousin. It shouldn’t be that hard but it was, for some reason. And so, you said, “There’s really not much that you should know.” 
To which he replied, “Oh, come on, there must be something,” He nudged your side slightly, letting out a chuckle as he took a long drag. “Don’t think too hard. Just tell me the first thing that comes to your mind.” 
And so, you did. Before you knew it, you said, “I haven’t had my first kiss yet.” 
“Seriously?” Jungkook asked, but it wasn’t in the disgusted, you’re-in-your-twenties-and-yet-you-haven’t-kissed-somebody kind of way. It was more of a genuine shock. Like it was the hardest thing in the world to believe in.  
You chuckled, nodding. “I don’t know. I just feel weird about it.” 
“But were there any instances where you came close to kissing somebody?” he pressed, flicking his cigarette. 
“Of course, but when it came to it, I just couldn’t. It just didn’t feel…” you trailed off, unsure of what the right word was. 
“Right?” Jungkook suggested and you nodded. “I see.” 
“How about you?” you asked. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.” 
“I want to be somebody’s first kiss, and that somebody happens to be you.” 
He was the only one who could do it—cause your heart to do somersaults inside you while also making it beat so fast that you were afraid he would hear it. It was the way he stared at you at that moment, eyes flickering from your eyes which reflected the cityscape below you and the smoke from his cigarette to your parted lips, unsure of what to say from his revelation. 
“Do you think it’d feel right if I kiss you, Y/N?” 
And like always, your mind and heart screamed: this was Jungkook. Who else would you want to be your first kiss? Since you were thirteen, you had been in love with him. You only imagined this in your head, in your wildest dreams. 
And so, you nodded, afraid that if you spoke, no words would leave. 
Jungkook nodded too, and he crushed his cigarette on top of the edge of the rooftop. He stepped towards you, cupped your face, and for a moment, the world stood still. Closing your eyes, you waited for his lips to crash onto yours. 
And when it finally did, it was nothing that you had ever imagined. 
No sparks. 
No fireworks. 
It was simple, mundane, ordinary—it was a kiss. 
You held onto Jungkook’s wrists as he deepened the kiss, and yet, there were still none of the romantic aspects that you thought would happen during your first kiss. Even when Jungkook moved his hands from your face and around your waist, nothing. It tasted so bitter due to the mix of nicotine and beer that he had. 
But you didn’t mind. You were kissing Jeon Jungkook, your fake boyfriend, at a party, where all his peers were. And for that, your first kiss was still memorable. 
Oh, how Jeon Jungkook twisted your world. 
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PART THREE
You had no recollection whatsoever of what happened last night; much less how you got back to your shared condominium unit with Taehyung. But if you were to guess, your cousin probably brought you home as you vaguely remembered him being at the afterparty—much to his chagrin that you came with his best friend. Other moments were like missing puzzle pieces. You only remembered flashes, and you groaned when you felt the throbbing in your temple became stronger. 
Usually, you could hold your liquor better than this. In fact, this was the first time, in a long while, that you could remember having a hangover. Your mother was your drinking buddy—started drinking with you when you were a junior in high school, and although she shouldn’t have done that, you didn’t mind. Your mother was a great mother. Your mother was your best friend. Your mother was a great parent. Yes, she had her shortcomings, but who didn’t? Certainly not you. You remembered the first time she asked you to try Soju, and subconsciously, it brought a smile to your face, and a low chuckle to escape your lips. You made a mental note to text her later.  
As you left your bed, there was a knock on your bedroom door. Knowing it was your cousin, you told him to come in while you fixed your bed, and looked for your phone in the process. 
“Your phone’s in your bag,” Taehyung muttered as he stepped inside your room, and leaned against the wall of the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. “I brought you home too. Jungkook wanted to, but he rode a motorcycle, and you were wasted. It wasn’t safe.” 
You nodded in understanding. You figured out that much. Like what Taehyung said, your phone was indeed inside your bag. Quickly, you unlocked it, and checked your notifications. Some were just annoying spam emails, app notifications, and automated messages from your SIM provider, but there was one message that made your heart beat quickly due to panic that you didn’t even notice Jungkook’s message. 
“Y/N, I need to talk to you,” Taehyung said. 
“We will talk, but not right now, I’m late for my tutoring session, Tae,” you hurriedly told him as you texted your tutee that you would be late, but that you would come since it was his midterms next week. 
“Y/N, I’m serious. I still don’t approve of you and Jungkook dating.” 
You should have expected this. In the years you spent with Taehyung, you should have known that he wasn’t the type of person who could accept “no” as an answer, and not getting what he wanted when and if he wanted it. You thought it only applied to everything else in his life; apparently, it also applied to your dating life. 
“Taehyung, haven’t we gotten over this? Who I date is not yours to dictate,” you shook your head, sighing deeply as you gathered everything you needed for your quick shower. You were definitely not going to attend your tutoring session dressed from last night, and smelling like beer and nicotine. 
“Jungkook’s a piece of shit as a boyfriend, Y/N. He’s crazy possessive and he gets so fucking jealous. His charming persona is just that—a persona. I don’t want you to get hurt by him, Y/N, please.” 
The desperation in his voice was evidently obvious. When you looked at him, you were unsure of what to say. How could he say that to his own best friend? 
“If he’s like that—,” 
“He is like that,” 
“Then why are you still friends with him?” you asked, pointedly. When Taehyung couldn’t give you an answer, you nodded. “Right. I thought so. I’m going now, Tae. This conversation is over.” 
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When you arrived at Jamsil’s library, you were forty five minutes late to your session with Yang Jungwon, a freshman from your program, Journalism with a major in Investigative Reporting. You found him in your usual spot, writing away on his yellow pad while nodding his head along the music he was listening to. Inhaling deeply, you made your way toward him. When you were finally near him, you tapped on his shoulder, causing him to jump a little, but when he saw you—his deep dimpled smile appeared on his face. 
Yang Jungwon was like the little brother you never had but wished you had. You felt bad for thinking that way because you had Taehyung, but as stated, looking after him felt more like a responsibility you had no other choice but to take upon. With Jungwon, even though you were paid to help him with his studies, it never felt like a responsibility to you. You enjoyed spending time with him, helping him out, and sometimes, if the conversation steered into the direction, you enjoyed your deep and meaningful conversations with him. 
You smiled back at him, and took the seat beside him, sitting on it. “I’m so sorry I’m late, Jungwon. You can tell your mom that she doesn’t need to pay me for this session.” 
He shook his head. “No, noona. It’s okay. I didn’t mind the waiting. I got to use it to answer your mock tests.” 
“Really? Let me see. What did you answer first?” you asked, taking your messenger bag off of your shoulder, placing it on the table. 
“The Contemp—,” Jungwon began to say, but then he stopped, which caused you to tear your gaze away from the mock test in your hands, and to your tutee. You followed his gaze, and to your surprise, you saw Jungkook sitting across from you and Jungwon with a gentle smile on his face. He had his lip ring on—it was the first thing you noticed about him that day. 
“Jungkook, what are you doing here?” you asked, swallowing the lump in your throat. Why did it feel like you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to do? Why did you suddenly feel anxious? 
Taehyung’s words rang in your ears: He’s crazy possessive. His charming persona is just that—a persona. 
Was all of it true? Was that the reason why he was here? Because you were with another guy? 
“I guess you didn’t read my message, babe,” he chuckled. “I told you not to buy lunch anymore because I cooked some for you. Here, you can share it with your friend…” he trailed off, politely smiling at Jungwon. 
“H-Hello, I’m Yang Jungwon,” Jungwon stammered, starstruck that Jamsil’s golden boy was talking to him. 
“Hello, Jungwon. It’s nice to meet you. You can just call me hyung,” Jungkook turned to you. “I’ll get going now, okay?” He pushed the lunch box towards you. “Eat. There’s hangover soup in there too.” 
You gave him a look to which he grinned at. “Ah, don’t worry, Jungwon. She can tutor you even though she’s dr—,” 
“Okay, thank you, Jeon Jungkook,” you interrupted him, making his grin wider. You shook your head at him, but you couldn’t hide the blush coating your cheeks from his sweet gesture. Then, you wondered, as Jungkook took his leave, did he do the same thing to Haemin? 
“I didn’t know you and Jeon Jungkook hyung are dating,” Jungwon brought you out of your trance, gaze finally now upon him rather than the absent figure of Jungkook. 
“Yeah, it just happened,” you said to him. “But come on, let’s focus on your mock tests.” 
Yet despite saying that, you were the one who couldn’t focus because the only thing in your mind was: how did Jungkook know you were at the library? 
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Taehyung’s words plagued your mind the entire day. Even while you were working, all you could think about was his words about his best friend. How could he say those things about Jungkook? Someone he’d been best friends with since they were little? Why was he so adamant about you not dating him? Taehyung usually kept a distance from your personal life, not even asking about your mother because he knew of the complicated relationship your family had with his family. So, why was he all over your case now that you were “dating” Jungkook? You couldn’t understand. You couldn’t wrap your head around it. 
Although you confirmed with the library interaction that Jungkook wasn’t the possessive type, seeing as he just walked away after giving you the lunch box, and even let Jungwon call him hyung, there was still that nagging thought in your mind: what if Taehyung’s word held weight? What if they were true? 
You thought about it: if they were true, even when you were only fake dating, would he still be as possessive as Taehyung said he was? What happened for your cousin to even tell you something like that?  
Your thoughts were put on a halt when your manager called for your name. You worked as a part-time waitress at a restaurant called Rado. You used to be a full-time employee, but since you were in your last year of uni, you asked if you could still be employed on a part-time basis, and fortunately, your manager, Han Somin, agreed. 
“Yes, Ms. Han?” you asked as you entered her small office inside the employees’ locker room. 
“Y/N, hi, come inside, I just have something to tell you,” she said, taking her eyeglasses off, and kindly smiling at you. You nodded and did as told. “It’s nothing serious,” she continued, which alleviated the nerves sinking in your bones. “I just wanted to ask if you wanted to be part of this party we’re catering to on Saturday. It’s a listening party for an artist named J-Hope; he released a new album. Maybe you’ve heard of him.” 
You shook your head. “No, Ms. Han. But I’d love to be part of the staff. Where would it be held?” 
“It’ll be held at his label’s function room. I’ll send you the details, alright?” You nodded, then she dismissed you, and went back to work. 
Money had always been a sensitive topic for you. Growing up, you knew that you didn’t have a lot but you were comfortable due to both of your parents’ wages. Your father was a simple office man while your mother had her own small flower shop. They were able to provide for your basic needs and wants but when your father passed away—your mother’s earnings at the flower shop weren’t sustainable. Hence, at an early age, you learned how to look for jobs, and learned the value of money and earning it. Hence, the reason why, besides loving Jungkook all your life, you simply could not half-ass fake dating him because it was innate in you that when you do a job, you give it your hundred percent. 
Part of you wished you didn’t have to worry about your finances. That, like other students at Jamsil, you could have fun and enjoy college life without worrying if you would still have a roof over your head eve though you failed an exam or if you would still be able to eat the next day if you buy a food late at night because you were so hungry that you couldn’t sleep. 
Having money meant having freedom to do all the things that you wanted to do—and you weren’t free. Not yet, anyway, but moving to your own place was a start. That’s why no matter what people say, you would see fake dating Jeon Jungkook through because whether you liked it or not—he was the key to your freedom. 
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Saturday rolled around quickly. Adorned in your Rado’s uniform—a simple white linen long sleeve polo shirt, black slacks, black high heels, and your hair pulled back to show your face—you were already at the label’s function room preparing for the listening party of J-Hope. His music had been playing since you got there and you felt yourself being immersed and vibing to it that you made a mental note to check his other songs out afterwards. 
You were in charge of the food and drinks. Ms. Han was also present to supervise and with you was your co-worker, Kang Seulgi, and Kim Hanbin. It was an intimate type of party; hence, the small group of staff and catering. 
“I wonder who we’ll see here,” Seulgi told you as she placed the food fingers on the table while you poured drinks into the glasses. 
“I heard it’s just indie artists that J-Hope invited. It’s the target audience for his album, you see,” Hanbin piped in, fixing his necktie. 
“Whoever it is, I’m sure—,” 
“Kim Y/N, it’s nice to see you here,” 
You only heard that voice a couple of times but you wouldn’t mistake it for another. It was ingrained in your mind so deeply. It was the voice of the person you hoped was you for a long time—who got to touch, kiss, hug, care, and love Jeon Jungkook for four years. It was the voice of the person who was Jeon Jungkook’s first love, and most likely still loved. It was the voice of the person that was never going to be you in his life. It was the voice of: 
“Lee Haemin.” 
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PART FOUR (a sneak peek)
“Lee Haemin.” 
In one word, she was beautiful. Dressed in a small black dress with thin straps and a pair of black heels, her silky black hair pulled back, showing off her idol-like face, Lee Haemin was just a sight to behold. Smiling at you, she took a step forward. 
“Is it okay if we talk?” she asked. 
As though you were hypnotized, you nodded wordlessly. A part of you already knew what the talk would be, or at least that’s what you thought. Nodding back, Haemin smiled at Seulgi and Hanbin before leading you out of the function room and somewhere more private. She opened a door leading to what seemed like the conference room, and gestured that you enter first so you did. She followed in suit, and you took a short time to look at your surroundings. 
It was all white with an oval table in the middle and black swivel chairs surrounding it. Adjacent to you were the ceiling to floor windows, showcasing the city landscape. Connected at the top was a projector and on the left side was a projector screen. You wondered how Haemin got access to such room, and as though reading your mind, she said: 
“My family owns a stock, if you’re wondering why I got access to this room. We can pretty much use any room in the company.”
Nodding your head, you turned to face her. “I see. That’s great. I didn’t know that.” 
“Not many people do,” she answered. “But that isn’t really why I wanted to talk to you.” 
“I know,” you replied. “You wanna talk about Jeon Jungkook.” 
Haemin smiled. “I heard you’re dating him.” 
“From who? Taehyung?” You knew they were friends. Not exactly close, but they were acquainted due to Jungkook. 
She shook her head. “From Jungkook." Stunned, your mouth parted ways a little. Haemin smiled. "Surprising, I know, but it truly was him who told me that he was with you." 
"Why would he say that to you?" 
"Because he loved me first." 
And it was the truth. The truth hurts but it was the truth nevertheless. You weren't the first person he ever loved, ever had a deep and humane connection with. Everything about your relationship was a lie, a cover up. Theirs was true and real. Jungkook loved Haemin; not you.
Forcing a smile upon your face, you answered, “He loves me now. I don’t see the point of having this conversation, to be honest.”
“No, he doesn’t love you, Y/N. He wants you. Those two things are different,” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Hence, Haemin continued, “Loving someone lights up your world. Wanting someone, now that’s a different thing. To want something is to own it.” 
“And your point? Jungkook wants to own me?” Even your words sent shivers down your spine. You loved Jungkook since you could remember. But did you want him to own you? 
“Yes,” she replied. “Jungkook’s the type of person who gets and gets and gets and never likes to not have what he wants, what he needs. I’m telling you all these because prior to him dating you,” she smiled when she said ‘dating’ as though she knew it was only fake. “He lost me. Now he’s trying to get you to get me back, to own me again. But I don’t want that anymore. I don’t love him anymore. Don’t trap yourself. Get out as early as you can.” 
You didn’t know what to say. So, you did the only thing you could do: walk away. But then Haemin called your name, and you stopped on your tracks, looking at her over your shoulder. “Don’t let love blind you, Y/N. I know you’ve loved him for years, but he’s only going to break you—mind, body, soul.” 
“Thank you for the advice, Haemin,” you told her. “But I didn’t need it. Please respect my relationship with Jungkook. Thank you and enjoy the night away.”
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author’s note: hey guys. again, so sorry for deactivating all of a sudden. i know this isn’t much but i hope having a sneak peek into chapter four brought you a bit of joy and excitement. feel free to send me asks regarding burnout and other things. see you in price of freedom next. i’ll be posting it again on tumblr for easy viewing but it’ll also be on hold for the time being. thank you and much love, aika. 
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unoriginal-and-dumb · 3 months
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I imagine that they were childhood friends and played on the gross play rugs in ikea
Headcanons me and my friend came up with if you guys would like to read… huehuehue.. 👇👇
wiki says lampert was formed in a factory but it doesn’t say he was brought to LIFE in a factory. we hc that kasper “made” lampert as a child because he was lonely in ikea and had no friends. Also being one of those mf kids who draw on the walls and everything else. he drew a face on a lamp and the next day it turned into a boy yippee. they grew up together as best friends
kasper originally named lampert lamper, cause his name is kasper and he just replaced the kasp with lamp. when he came to life lampert was like no i think its lampert, not lamper and kasper was like ok 👍😁
they liked to play cars on the car play rug in ikea. kasper liked to race and crash them and lampert liked to send in the police and ambulance for cleanup. theyd play that over and over again it never got old
when they would play outside, they liked to set up things to look really pretty (like a nice stick and leaf house or dress up a really pretty doll) and then set it on fire with a magnifying glass (lampert liked the first part, kasper liked the second part)
kasper is korean-american and he had slightly lighter hair as a kid (LET ME HAVE THIS HAVE HAVE NOTHING)
both them ace and specifically lampert ace aro and specifically like romance and sex repulsed ace aro like if you stand too close to him he freaks out imagine if someone were to kiss him that would not fly. romance and sex r NASTY to him do not touch him
when lampert would hang out with kasper he would just stand very still in the corner of the room the whole time. not for any bad reason, he is just a lamp and does not see the need to do anything else than stand in the corner while he talks. when they hang out at ikea sometimes kasper starts talking to the wrong lamp because of this
lampert has a set list of facial expressions that show exactly how he feels. this is verging on not ok :) (his normal expression) this is not ok : ) (scawy) or this : ( this is silly :] these are all more fine :( :[ D: :D :o :/
lampert talks with a similar cadence to baymax snd also is politely blunt in the very autistic way. he states his opinion on something even if maybe its not a nice thing to say but he says it very politely (when eating food someone made for him that he really doesnt like: “i dont think i will be finishing this, it does not taste good. thank you! goodbye”)
They are so autism vs adhd to me.
Kasper was probably a sticky iPad leash kid before that was really a thing he’s a real trendsetter what a guy. He would run all over the place nonstop and everyone would just see some freak kid run mach 4 snatch a rug off the ground and then disappear like a gnome
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jongseongsnudes · 25 days
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kiss me (part 2)
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bff!jake. 1.6k words. ✨️smut✨️ft. lee heeseung. (part one) (part three)
two weeks.
it had been two weeks since that night in his apartment that led to you and him crossing into the grey area.
the thought of that night stayed on your mind the whole time, your body immediately tensing up and growing hot every time you remembered how it played out. the way the man kissed you, held you, touched you all over. all night long.
it was like how you’ve always imagined it, only a hundred times better.
and you two haven’t stopped fucking since.
his bedroom, the living room, the kitchen, hell, even in the laundry room. you two fucked like rabbits, like your life depended on it. you just couldn’t believe it took this long, considering the so so so obvious sexual tension that was always there.
every chance he got, his hands would be on your body, holding you close to him, kissing you, filling you to the brim. just like right now.
“oh god jake- feels so good-”
“i know baby, i know,” he coos into your ear, his voice so deep, just like his cock that’s currently burried inside of you. his hands are gripped on your waist, holding you up as you bounced on his lap, inching closer and closer to both your highs.
if you had a choice, you probably wouldn’t opt for fucking in jake’s car of all places but desperate times called for desperate measures. in other words, jake sim was horny and you weren’t going to say no.
and that’s how you ended up riding the man for dear life in the carpark behind the bar you and him were supposed to have entered about twenty minutes ago... to meet your other friends.... that you had sort of forgotten about.
“you need help baby?” you hear him chuckle against your skin, his lips kissing down the side of your neck, “let me help you.”
the man immediately thrusts up as he says so, not even giving you the chance to respond. all you could do was whine at the feeling of him even deeper inside of you, his thickness almost breaking you in half. but you couldn’t care less, not when it feels this good.
you grip tighter onto his shoulders as the man pounds into you, your nails almost ripping his poor shirt, similar to your dress strap that was currently hanging on for dear life. thanks to jake’s rough hands earlier, even after you told him how much you loved the dress.
eye roll.
you begin to see stars when he hits at one specific angle, an angle he had perfected only after a week. it was like he knew everything about your body already. where to touch, where to kiss, where to suck. the man was a fast learner and you were more than thankful for that.
“jake...”
“what do you want baby, tell me. i’ll give it to you.”
“cum- i want to cum- please...”
the smirk on his lips tells you just how pleased he is with how whiny you are because of him. how pathetic and dishevelled you always looked when he’s fucking you, with hair so messy and with tears in your eyes.
that’s exactly what jake sim loved seeing. you a complete mess for him.
“because you asked so nicely...” his thrusts fastens almost immediately, causing your head to fall back as drool threatens to fall from the corners of your lips. you have no idea of what’s what anymore, you just know that you were going to have the best orgasm of your life. all thanks to jake sim.
moans and the sound of the rough love making continues to fill the man’s car as he works you towards your end, his thrusts gradually growing erratic. an indication that he was also almost there.
“j- fuck- jake-”
you almost faint at the violent rush that suddenly erupts inside of you, your juices coating the man’s dick just as he also cums. deep, deep inside of you.
with no energy left, you lay your head onto his shoulder, your arms now weakly clinging onto the material of his shirt. you could hear him laughing lowly beside you as he begins to pat your head, something you’ve always loved him doing.
“i’m so tired... and sore,” you lift your head up after a while to look at the man, who in turn was already staring at you with that goofy grin you’ve always been a sucker for, “you wanna just go back to mine?”
“can’t baby. i had plans to meet someone here tonight and she’s hot as fuck.”
“oh.”
yes, oh.
and back to reality you go, back to the fact that this was all you and jake were just best friends with benefits.
you and jake never actually discussed what this was but the man had casually mentioned a few times that he was comfortable with this. that he liked fucking around with his best friend.
and something in you wasn’t exactly happy with that but you couldn’t understand why.
“what’s wrong?” his voice knocks you out of your thoughts, his fingers drawing circles on your lower back, “want to go again beautiful?”
“narh, lets go in. the guys are probably wondering where we are.”
you get off his lap, and his dick, and back to the passenger side with some struggle, thanks to the man refusing to let your waist go. but you wanted to get in that bar as soon as possible. perhaps getting drunk could get your mind off this whole thing with jake for now.
after fixing yourselves, both you and jake head inside the crowded bar. his hand stayed on your lower back the entire time, keeping you close until you reached the private booth where heeseung, jay and sunghoon were. and your eyes immediately fall upon heeseung, who had dyed his hair a dirty blonde, a big change from the black you saw him with last time.
and hell did he look good with it.
“hi love,” heeseung says as he catches your gaze, the man reaching out to pull you towards him and away from jake, “what took you so long.”
he gives you a tight hug, his lips slightly brushing against the tip of your ear as he does. the smell of alcohol that immediately emits from him tells you perhaps hes had quite a bit to drink already.
as you settle against the very welcoming heeseung, you catch jake’s gaze, the man suddenly looking grim. but only for a split second before he excuses himself, to get his dick wet you assume.
sigh.
you spend the next two hours or so doing what you had planned to do, get drunk in order to get your mind off a certain someone. but of course, he was the only thing on your mind the drunker you got.
you can’t help but wonder about the man’s whereabouts. was he still in the club? was he and that chick already fucking in his car? replacing you?
ugh.
but why was that thought annoying you so much?
“it’s like you keep getting prettier,” heeseung says so nonchalantly, the man now staring blankly at your face as he twirls some of your hair with his fingers, “you literally take my breath away every time.”
“what do you want mr lee? why are you flattering me so much tonight?”
the man only chuckles at your accusation, his body casually leaning in closer until his lips are at your ear. you can feel his hot breath against your skin, the tingly sensation goes straight down your spine, right to your panties.
“you love, i want you.”
you’ve always known that sweet talk was one of lee heeseung’s specialties and they’ve never worked on you... but there was something about it tonight. just something about the way he had been acting is causing you to press your thighs tighter together, your palms even sweating.
as much as you didn’t want to use your friend, perhaps heeseung could be your distraction tonight. besides if jake was out there getting some action, you figured you could do the same.
right?
“do you want to head back to mine?” heeseung asks lowly, as if he had read your mind. you barely nod in return but that was enough to have the handsome man closing the gap between his lips and yours, kissing you deep and slowly. your hands are quickly in his hair while his are holding your body, deepening the kiss.
“hey hey- what the fuck,” a deep voice calls out as you are suddenly separated from heeseung, your body now pulled up and right into a very familiar body.
jake sim.
before you could even question him, he had pulled you through the crowd, taking you out to carpark despite your constant struggling and yelling. the man finally lets go of your wrist, only to push you up against his car, cornering you in with his much taller frame.
“what the hell is wrong with you sim!”
“what the hell is wrong with you! why were you and heeseung sucking each other’s faces?” jake is visibly angry, something you very rarely see from your usually chill best friend and you didn’t understand why, “are you going to just fuck all of your friends?”
you scoff at his words, your head unable to progress the audacity. even after disappearing with some chick for hours, he had the nerve to spit those words at you like you had done something wrong.
“and what jake? what if i want to fuck all of my friends?” you poke at his chest, knowing that it would only further push his buttons. just like you intended to do. “i can do whatever the hell i want. just like you.”
and as you had expected, the man only gets angrier to your sarcasm. the view of his clenched jaw and darkened eyes the pure evidence of that, his hands now moving to grab your arms but you push it away.
“cause it’s like what you said jake. we’re just friends right?”
to be continued.
2024 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.
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werecreature-addicted · 9 months
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i love the idea of a werewolf best friend who is totally in love with you and keeps trying to court you but since you're human you're just thinking he's being thoughtful or something
but he busts every night to the thought of you crying into the pillow, his heavy body pressing onto you and pushing you to the mattress, as he fucks his fat cock into you, trying to knot you and knock you up
want so badly to mark you as his that when he even gets a glimpse of your neck/shoulders he salivates and gets hard
werewolf courting is a subtle thing- really it's more about keeping others away from you than winning you over. you don't see all the sharp glares he sends to other people. or the way he snaps at his other friends for mentioning how cute you look.
he's sweet to you. he gives you bites off his plate. and almost always brings you a drink or snack when you hang out together. he'd be leaving kills on your doorstep but apparently it "freaks out the neighbors" and "you don't know what to do with a whole deer carcass" or whatever. humans are so hard to please. those silly little candies you like can't be very filling but he can't shake the urge to feed you. so he does.
He's also very protective. he always walks/ drives you home at the end of the night. he'll be by your side in an instant if you call for him and god help any idiot who tries to fuck with you.
Also, his home is always open to you. if you ever want to come over randomly or borrow something- what's his is yours. you don't realize how territorial he is with everyone else because he's always so generous and giving with you. especially with clothes!! if you want a sweatshirt or a pair of shorts, they're yours. he loves little things like that to make you smell like him.
To any other werewolf, any one of these things would be a clear indication of romantic interest. I mean- the guy lets you eat off his plate! do you have any idea how territorial wolves are with food? No! Of course, you don't you're human. all of it feels normal to you. there might be other things that you take for flirting that he's doing on accident. but really you think of him as a really good friend.
it's hell on your werewolf. He doesn't know what he's doing wrong. he's a perfect mate for you, but you never seem to acknowledge his flirting as something romantic. he hates it when you stretch your head to the side, baring your neck to him, it's like you're begging to be marked. and by "hates" I do mean it gets his mind spinning. it's like you have no idea how hard it is not to bite you sometimes.
He can't help himself. he will keep going until you accept him because he knows that you're the one for him. so he walks you home for the night then goes back to his place, alone, and lays in bed thinking about you.
at first, it's nothing dirty. he's just wondering what the two of you will do when you hang out next, then he's wondering what you're doing right now. did you take a shower? did you go straight to bed? what do you sleep in when you're all alone? what if you sleep in just your underwear- or naked.
he's hard. he always is when he lets himself think about you too much. he can't help it. so he starts touching himself while he lets his mind wander.
it would feel good to bite your neck. it would feel better to bite the soft sensitive skin of your inner thigh. he wants to mark you while he fucks you. he wants to own you inside and out. he knows you'd take his cock well. it's big but you don't mind, right? you'd like a little pain with your pleasure.
he thinks about all the different positions he could put you in. he thinks about you ridding his cock, about flipping you over and pinning your knees to your chest so he can see your face as he ruins you.
he cums all over himself imagining you screaming- begging him to knot you. he can only hope one day his little fantasy will become a reality.
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bet-on-me-13 · 11 months
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Danny is the Crazy Old Man™️ of Gotham
So, the events of Danny Phantom happened decades ago
Like, Phantom Planet was one of the first instances of Superheroes in HISTORY. Early 1900's, just the Fentons were Insanely Ahead of their Time!
Danny is still a Halfa, but has allowed himself to grow old and live his best life before fully dying so he can accept his Throne in the Infinite Realms. He decides to experience Life in the fullest way possible, partying, drinking, making long lasting friendships that shape the lives of everybody he meets, all that!
Eventually, Danny's Party Life leads him to Gotham. And this place is just amazing!
It has all the comforts of Home, with so much more! He can Party! He can Fight! He can do anything he wants and nobody bats an eye, because a crazy old man getting into a fistfight in the middle of the road is just another Tuesday for Gotham!
He decides to spend the rest of his Mortal Life there. And this is still Early On in the DC Timeline, like, Batman Year 1 is happening Right Now.
He hangs around, befriends the local Homeless Population, and mostly just has the time of his Life! And he takes up the stereotypical Homeless Old Man look because why fight it? That's literally what he's going for!
He also unintentionally sets up a bunch of future events
He teaches Kid!Jason on his to steal Tires as repayment for driving off some muggers with a Baseball Bat (honestly he was looking forward to being mugged, it's a new experience after all)
He pulls Kid!Tim into an Alley after Tim gets caught out at night and gets chased by some Punks. He hides Tim behind a Dumpster and tricks the Punks into mugging him instead (Yay! He finally got mugged!)
He becomes kind of well known as the Old Man who wants to experience everything before he dies. He says as much too, not like he really has a reason to hide it. He just tells people "I want to live my life to the fullest, it don't matter if I live 10 more years or 10 more minutes, I'm gonna experience every second of it!"
He once walked into a Cloud of Fear Gas to see what it was like. Later he said it was a 6/10. "Not the worst thing I've had injected into my body!" He says with no Context.
He traded places with a Hostage during an active Crime Scene because he wanted to know what it's like.
He was once dared to take Batmans Utility Belt by another Homeless Guy as a joke, so he walked up to Batman later that night in full view of everybody else and just asked for his Belt. He gives up after a few minutes, and one guy asked "Why not fight him for it? It's an experience after all.". Danny replys "Nah, I've fought Vigilantes before. It was fun though, gotta say!"
...
This got away from me, but all this to say: Imagine the Bat Families Reaction when they find out "Crazy Old Danny" is PHANTOM. You know, THE FIRST SUPERHERO!
I imagine Constantine is having a stroll though Gotham after finishing up some business with Bruce, and just bumps into a homeless guy by accident.
Later that night:
Batman: Constantine, Why are you calling? Is it to do with the-
Constantine: Why the fuck is there a Homeless God in your City?
Batman: Wait wha-
...
Or imagine they know before Constantine meets him, and it goes instead like this
Constantine: Why the fuck is there a Homeless God in your City?!
Batman: You mean Old Man Danny? He's just a homeless guy? What do you mean?
Constantine: I swear on what's left of my Soul, that is a God.
Batman, a little shit: I don't think so, I would know (fully knows)
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waitingonher · 3 months
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NIGHTS LIKE THESE — [hoo boys drabbles]
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summary: how they react to your bad dreams.
author's note: i wrote leo's + jason's part imagining that the cabins/barracks have individual rooms sooo...also ik this trope is so ran through in the pjo fandom but it's just toooo good i couldn't help myself
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percy jackson
percy has always been the type of person to pick up the phone no matter the time. even as he’s on a lone movie marathon and the scene reaches its long-anticipated climax, he’s reaching for his buzzing phone that’s lost beneath the sheets. having found it after the third ring, percy checks the time and the caller id. why are you calling him so late? he answers, “hi babe. i thought you had to wake up early this morning, why are you awake?” 
“hi percy,” your voice was shaky and congested, as if you’d been crying. percy immediately sits up, alarmed at the state of your voice, “did i wake you up?” 
“no, no, i was up watching movies. what’s wrong? is everything okay?” he’s seated at the edge of his bed now, anxiously awaiting your response. 
you force him to sit in silence as you think of an excuse, “yeah, um…i’m okay. i just wanted to hear your voice. but i’ll see you on thursday, okay? goodni-” 
“(y/n), what’s going on?” percy runs a hand through his hair as he heads out of his room to his kitchen. he rips off a napkin from the roll and snatches a pen from the drawer. on the napkin, he writes a brief message to sally, saying that he’d be over at your place and not to worry. 
“nothing. i’m fine, percy,” you mutter. but your boyfriend knows you too well. the way your voice quivers makes it sound as though you were trying to convince yourself that everything was okay, and you were failing miserably. 
percy places his phone between his ear and shoulder as he ties his shoes, “don’t leave me in the dark, (y/n).” 
“don’t worry about me. i’m fine it was just-” 
“babe, i’m coming over, okay?” and with that, percy hangs up. 
he’s walked this path over a hundred times, usually for dropping you off after dates or simply for hanging out with you. but this time, all percy can think about is how you sounded over the phone and that he needs to seriously pick up the pace. 
upon arrival, percy climbs up the fire escape ladder as quickly and quietly as possible. it’s only now that he’s grateful for his experience from all of those laborious quests. reaching your floor, he knocks delicately on the glass. 
“percy, what are you doing here?” you ask after he closes your window, “i’m sorry, you really didn’t need to come all this way. it’s like three in the morning and you-” 
your boyfriend silences you with a gentle kiss, “i’m okay. it’s you i’m worried about. what’s wrong?” 
“it was just a dream.” 
“just a dream?”
“yes, it was just a stupid dream.” 
percy grabs your shoulders, forcing you to look at him, “(y/n), you’re one of the strongest people i know. so if you were crying over it, then it really must be something.” 
you slump on your bed, and percy joins beside you. it's no use hiding it from percy, so with a sigh, you confess, “well, you’re here now. but it just felt so real,” your eyes begin to prick with tears again, “you were laying on the floor…and there was just so much blood, and i tried to stop it—i really did try—but it just kept coming and there was nothing else i could do.” 
honestly, percy didn’t know what to say. but he did know that if your dream was anything like the ones he had about you, they were emotionally and physically crushing. so, he decides that if he can’t say anything, he’d rather show you. percy gently guides your body, until the both of you are laying down. with a strong arm wrapped around your figure and the other rubbing slow circles on your back, he can only hope you understand the message he’s trying to convey. 
“i’m here, (y/n). everything’s going to be okay,” percy continues to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. slowly but surely, your crying mellows into only soft sniffles. 
as you lay on his chest, you can feel the rise and fall of his breathing body. it wasn’t at all like that dream of yours; his cold body eerily still on the floor. not at all like that. you allow yourself to slowly drift off with the rise and fall of his chest, strangely as if it were its own lullaby, “thank you, percy,” you manage to whisper. 
“i love you, (y/n). i’m not leaving you, ever. i promise,” percy whispers back. 
leo valdez
leo’s used to waking up several times in the middle of the night. considering the demigod dreams, he hasn’t remembered the last time he’s gotten a full night's rest, which is why he’s not surprised to be awake at the crisp hour of two a.m. he can’t even remember the dream this time, but leo bets it was another dream foreseeing his imminent death or the end of the world. 
as he stares at the pipes and wires running along the ceiling of bunker 9, a familiar ringtone sounds from his phone. leo quickly wipes the sleep from his eyes and picks up the phone from his nightstand, “(y/n)? are you okay? it’s so late.” 
there’s a silence, followed up by quiet sniffles. were you crying? “hi leo, i’m sorry i probably woke you up didn’t i? go back to sleep, i was-” 
“no i was already awake, what’s wrong?” the moment your boyfriend noticed your shaky voice, his attitude completely changed. suddenly awake and full of energy, he tears off his blanket and reaches for his hoodie and shoes.
considering the fact that you never really call so late alarms him. you calling either meant that you had a nightmare or you were hurt…and leo prayed it was the dream. 
“i’m sorry…” you take a deep breath, “i just had a bad dream, like one of those dreams, you know?” leo knows all too well what you’re talking about, and if it’s anything close to the dreams he has, he can only imagine what you’re feeling, “but i swear i’m okay now. i’ll see you later?” 
but leo’s already out the door as you finish your explanation, “i’m coming over, stay there.” 
“wait leo-” 
he hung up. 
the trek through the forest was usually something one would avoid, especially at this hour, but leo couldn't give less of a shit as he thinks about you crying in your room. a few minutes later after practically sprinting to your cabin, he arrives. locating the window to your room was easy, he’d done this several times before for your sleepovers. leo knocks as quietly as he can on the glass, hoping he doesn’t disturb any of your other siblings. 
surprised, you pull your curtain aside and are face to face with none other than your boyfriend. he looks sweaty and out of breath. leo ran all this way? pushing your question to the side, you rush to open the window and let him in. 
for the first time, leo really gets a good look at you. your eyes are red and puffy; you look at him with such desperation and he can’t help but pull you into a rib-cracking hug. 
“you actually came.” 
“what? of course i did, (y/n),” he takes your face into his hands, rubbing soft circles on each cheek. suddenly, tears begin to flow freely down your face. was it something he said? was he not supposed to come? 
you pick up on his confusion, “i’m sorry, i’m just…glad you’re alive,” leo sits you on your bed, and continues to wipe away the tears, his concern growing with each passing second. your boyfriend urges you to go on, “it’s just the same thing every night. i’m at your grave on the hill, and i’m all alone and it’s raining and i just-” 
“(y/n), breathe,” leo pulls you into his chest once more. he holds you so impossibly tight, ensuring that you know he’s there and he doesn’t plan to ever leave. his sacrifice during the final battle against gaia will forever be amongst one of leo’s biggest regrets. not because he had saved the world, but because of how hard it impacted you. without a doubt, you could easily say that those months where leo was gone were the hardest times of your life. and not a day goes by where leo thinks he can ever forgive himself for it, “i’m here. i’m alive.” 
you nod, your sobs turning into quiet hiccups. leo moves the two of you guys to be laying down, and as final reassurance, he gently guides your hand under his hoodie, allowing you to feel his steady heartbeat. your boyfriend’s skin is warm to the touch and you count his heartbeat…one…two…three. and that was proof enough, “you’re alive.” 
“i am,” leo soothes. he places a gentle kiss atop your head and pulls the covers over your bodies. his arms wrap tightly around your figure, holding you close, “sleep, (y/n). i’ll be here in the morning.”
jason grace
it’s late nights like these that jason has slowly come to appreciate. these scarce nights where he’s completed his praetor duties for the night and he allows himself to indulge in some self-care, which usually consists of a cup of hot herbal tea and a good book. 
usually, jason prefers historical books, oftentimes concerning roman myths or the occasional diary of some war general. what can he say? he likes to be all-knowing when it comes to these things. but this time, as he’s curled up in his bed, he reaches for the book that you had recommended to him: a classic romance novel. jason laughs to himself as he recalls you teasing him about his taste in literature. if he remembers correctly, you called him a “history-loving freak?” 
just as jason’s about to open the book, an unexpected ringing sounds from his phone. he huffs, momentarily disapointed. that is, until he sees who’s calling, “(y/n)? hi, are you okay?” 
“oh, hi,” jason noticed the way your voice sounded off, like you’d been crying, “i didn’t think you’d actually answer.” 
confused, he puts the book back on his nightstand, “of course i would, my love. what’s going on? you sound like you’ve been crying.” 
“no, everything’s okay i just…” you pause, “had a bad dream, so i wanted to listen to your voicemail.”
jason’s heart squeezes at the thought of you going so far as to listen to his own ten second voicemail as a method of comfort. but the feeling goes away just as quickly as it came upon hearing you had a nightmare, “oh i’m sorry, my love. do you want me to come over?” 
“no,” you reply, “it’s okay. i’m better now that i’ve heard your voice. you can go back to bed, jason.” 
despite you declining his offer, jason’s already up and putting his shoes on, “i’ll be there in a few, okay? i love you,” and he hangs up. 
within a handful of minutes, jason reaches your cohort’s barracks. the square windows look impossibly similar, but it’s all thanks to practice that he recognizes yours. even as praetor, he still has to enforce the rules and sneak around. with a quiet knock on your window, he waits in the dark for you. 
“you’re here. you’re alive, jason,” is all you can muster up as your boyfriend stands tall inside your room. his expression is clearly written with worry as he closes the gap between you with a hug. as hard as you tried to fight it, the tears came again in a fresh wave. 
“yeah, i’m here, (y/n). i’m not leaving,” he replies, concern laced in his words. jason notices your tears and gently wipes them away, “c’mere, tell me about your dream,” he beckons, guiding you towards the bed. with a gentle plop, he settles down and opens his arms, inviting you to join him.
settling against jason’s chest, you take a shaky breath as he places kisses on your temple, “i was at your funeral, and you looked so peaceful, like you were sleeping. i just can’t stop thinking about how you looked asleep. and then they expected me to, you know, give a speech in front of the entire camp about you, and i just…i can’t imagine a world without you, so please, you can’t leave me like that.” 
“woah, woah, (y/n) i’m okay, breathe,” jason hushes you, rubbing soft circles on your arm. to be frank, he’s pretty shocked about what you had just said. he can’t get over how shaken up you are by this. but jason can’t even blame you, because if it were him who had the dream, he bets he would also be like this, “i’m here and i have no plan of ever leaving, okay? i’m afraid you’re stuck with me for the rest of your life,” he jokes, hoping to get at least a smile from you. 
jason’s joke succeeds as he feels your body shake with a quiet giggle, “good. i wouldn’t have it any other way.” 
your boyfriend checks your face once more, ensuring that you’ve stopped crying. seeing that you have, he places delicate kisses on each cheek, “hey, how about we go to sleep now? i’ll read you that book,” jason motions to the book on your nightstand, which happens to be the same one you recommended him. 
you nod tiredly, “only if you do different voices for each character.” 
“of course, only for you,” jason quips. 
after adjusting your bodies, jason reaches for the book and opens it to chapter one. but before he begins, he pulls the covers completely over your body and places a chaste kiss on your forehead, “i love you so much, (y/n). and i hope you know that i’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”
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hobie-enthusiast · 11 months
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ALEX I JUST HAD AN IDEA...
so you know how spidey sense like, lets the spider know that there's a danger nearby before it gets to them? what if there was a spidey sense but for like, not danger. yk. like. LIKE...
i imagined hobie sitting by himself somewhere, not really paying attention? and then he gets this feeling that envelopes him whole and gives him the warm fuzzies and makes him smile, and he doesn't get what it is until his s/o comes up behind him and hugs him from behind, or like slaps his shoulders trying to scare him and he just wuvs them so much
im so soft you made me soft for hobie look what you've done!!!!
- your friendly neighborhood 🕷️ anon [ idc if emoji anons are so last year im spider anon now >:) ]
THAT FUNNY FEELING !
— hobie brown x gn!reader
— fluff, just straight fluff, hobie being so in love its crazy, petnames and lots more fluff
— hobie's spider-senses were giving him a new sensation, but he couldn't really put his finger on what it was
— ANON THIS IS SO ADORABLE MUWAH! ALSO EMOJI ANONS ON TOP I LOVE IT
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Hobie had been getting a new warm feeling that he didn't understand.
It happened whenever he was at peace. There was never any danger near him or around him. He could be sitting there, minding his business, only for this warm feeling to engulf his entire body. His mind draws blank as it’s engulfed with that damn fuzzy feeling.
He could never say he hates it though. It reminds him of you.
It comes at him whenever he’s somewhere with you. Whether the two of you are just hanging out, winning a battle, or walking around, he’s randomly hit with a wave of a good-feeling. One that stays with him for a small while, that feels like happiness spreading through his body.
That's how he mentally connected it to you. Of course, he didn't think for a while you truly were the cause. Not until recently.
You practically begged him to come over, to take the day off from being Spider-man and hang out with you. Hobie always had a hard time saying no to you, so he agreed.
You were out at the local shoppe by this point, so he let himself in (with the spare key you gave him of course). He looked to find ways to entertain himself, settling on strumming his guitar. He kicked his feet onto your bed as he lied back in your desk chair.
After a small while, he started getting that feeling again. That fuzzy one that engulfs him entirely, making him feel good. He glances up to look around, but sees nothing. He found it odd, but maybe it meant you were back home?
Nah, he was kidding himself. The connection was probably just in his head.
You place your groceries on the counter, ears picking up the sound of a guitar playing. You smile to yourself. Of course you know who the culprit was. He had a key because of you anyways.
Slowly, you creep up to your bedroom, carefully cracking the door. You keep quiet as you admire your boyfriend from afar. He seemed so relaxed, which wasn't usual for him.
Hobie deserved some peace and relaxation after saving so many people. You seemed to be the only one who truly thought that. Miguel didn't see it that way. The criminals among New York didn't understand that. And even Hobie himself didn't think he deserved a break for doing what he's supposed to.
So watching him so.. unaware for once truly was a sight.
You enter the room as quietly as possible, creeping up behind him to wrap your arms around his shoulders.
When you crept up, Hobie was engulfed by that feeling again. A warm smile crosses his face when he feels you lean against him, laughing in his shoulder.
"There ya are." He said with a small laugh. "I had a feelin' you were home."
You raise an eyebrow, smile never faltering. "What? No you didn't! You were so unaware when I snuck up behind you!"
Hobie raises his eyebrows, the feeling slowly fading from his body. So he was right! That warm and euphoric feeling did come from you, his lover. No one else could make him feel that way, not even close.
"Oooh, does the tingle work even for me?" You ask in an excited tone.
"The.. tingle?"
You nod happily, moving so you sit on the bed by his legs. "Yeah! You know, the thing you use to sense danger."
God Hobie found you so.. mesmorizing. Your truly somewhat childish nature that wasn't that but close, he loved it.
"Nah, only works for danger, love." He responds, looking down and strumming his guitar.
"Then you can't sense me! I'm like a ninja. This is perfect." You say, standing and grabbing Hobie's arm. "C'mon, I have some groceries for dinner."
He nodded and stood, guitar on the bed as he followed you to the kitchen. Of course he was going to keep the sensation a secret. He wanted to keep that for himself, a way you make him feel. And besides, what's the harming in letting you think that you could sneak up on him?
It could bring more heartfelt moments like that.
Ever since then, Hobie pretended to be blissfully unaware.
He pretended like he couldn't feel you sneaking up on him to scare him. He pretended he never knew you were right behind him, waiting for him to see you. He pretended like he didn't expect your "unexpected" or "surprise" hugs.
Because honestly, he loved you. Hobie loved these little things, even if it sounded weird in itself. He loved having a partner who was always catching him off-guard with affection, even if he was sensing it.
There are random times when the two of you are just sitting together, each one doing a separate activity. He would be on his guitar and you would be catching up on your latest game or book.
Then, that feeling would hit Hobie. He would feel the fuzies he felt from before, and a smile graces his face. It prompts him to move to hug you from behind, nuzzling his head into your shoulder or neck.
When you question him, "What are you doing, love?"
He just sighs, smile never leaving his face. "Just love ya, so damn much sweetheart."
Certainly enough to make your heart melt and cheeks go red. You always found these moments slightly odd, however. He initiated those moments whenever you planned to try and scare him or give him your own surprise hug.
He always beat you to it. Not that you could complain, oh no. If anything, you welcome this with open arms.
You had a slight feeling that Hobie wasn't being entirely honest when he said he truly never knew when you were behind him. Hobie was always aware of his surroundings. But that didn't make you think for too long. You chalked it up to Hobie just letting his guard down around you, and that made you feel nice.
This new sense of Hobie's was his personal favourite, one that he's glad comes from you, the very person he loves and appreciates so so dearly.
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