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kamaluhkhan · 4 months

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THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)

read part two GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you want revenge on luke castellan)

pairing: luke castellan x child of nemesis!reader (gender not specified)

word count: 8.5k

summary: luke hated your guts. he really did. he just hoped that no one could tell how, even after all this, you're still everything to him.

warnings/disclaimer: luke's POV. spoilers for the lightning thief and season 1 of pjo. some heated make-out sessions but no actual smut - MDNI / 18+. mentions of blood + death + alcohol. luke is 19 during tlt but i wrote this with him + reader being 21 by the end of this (this is important for the next part lol). anyways, luke + reader share clothes and lots of intense emotions they maybe possibly don't process in the best way. lots of ANGST - it's a greek tragedy fr!

author's note: welcome to my new hyperfixation! this fic is LONG but i hope she's worth it ♡

♪: the grudge by olivia rodrigo

(i. you have a sharp tongue)

fourteen year old luke was overwhelmed when he first stepped into the hermes cabin. it was loud and overcrowded and no one really seemed to care that they had a new cabinmate. the head counselor showed luke to an empty bed at the back, told him to get settled in, and left without another word. luke dropped his backpack before collapsing on the mattress. it was so thin that he could feel the springs dig into his back.

"you'll get used to it."

luke sat up to see you climbing through the window.

you had a band-aid stuck on your chin, chipped nail polish the color of blackberries, and leather combat boots that looked way too heavy to be wearing in the heat of summer.

“the shitty mattress?”

“i meant the whole chaos of cabin 11, and the way things work around here in general. if you can get used to the shitty mattress, all power to you.”

your tone was friendly enough, playful even. you smiled at him so comfortably it made luke nauseous.

“good to know.” he tried to smile back at you, but his heart wasn’t in it. “i’m luke, by the way.”

“yeah, i know. i’m —”

“y/n!”

you seemed entirely unfazed as the blond who called your name stormed over to you. you rolled your eyes, something only luke could notice, before turning to her.

“someone stole my candy.”

“i’m very sorry to hear that, maddy. gotta be careful around here.” your voice dripped like poisoned honey, deceptively innocent and sweet.

maddy was not having it. she huffed at you. “it was you, wasn’t it?”

“that depends. did you cheat at poker last night? again?”

some of the chatter throughout the cabin paused, heads turning to listen in.

“what? n-no!”

“then you have your answer, maddy.” you exaggerated a sigh, as though you had already won the fight and were annoyed that she came back for more. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i have a new camper to show around.”

chiron had already given them a tour, but luke didn’t protest when you grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the window with you. your hand was warm in his as you dragged him along to the corner of the cabin where a poorly made ladder waited for you.

“come on.” you started climbing, and only stopped to look down when you realized luke wasn’t following you. “best view of camp. trust me.”

a shiver passed through luke. trust didn’t come easy to him. he also didn’t particularly want to return to a stuffy cabin where all he would do was count reasons he did not want to be there.

so, luke followed you. he sat down next to you on the roof and looked out at the sun shining on his new home, but he couldn't help but be slightly bitter. the gods had gotten all of you into this life of endless danger and battles and monsters, and this was all they had to offer in return: a summer camp.

it just didn't seem fair.

there was something else he noticed then. what was it that chiron had said? camp half-blood was supposed to be a safe haven for all demigods.

“i don’t get it. there are only twelve cabins, but aren’t there, like, a million other gods?”

you straightened your posture then, and turned to luke with a newfound interest.

“camp half-blood only has cabins representing the twelve olympians. apparently, they’re the only ones important enough to have children worth recognizing, and they can’t even do that half the time,” you explained, impertinence laced throughout your words. it seemed like something you could never quite get off your chest.

every demigod knew that the gods didn’t appreciate sarcasm. they didn’t particularly like being called out on their bullshit, either.

you didn’t seem to care; you even rolled your eyes up at the sky, as if challenging zeus himself.

“anyways, that’s why the hermes cabin is so crowded. it takes in campers who are unclaimed or whose parent doesn’t have a cabin at camp. like me.”

“so, who’s your godly parent?”

you fiddled with the leather cord on your neck. it held a few clay beads like the other campers, but there was one silver charm he noticed only you wore — scales, by the looks of it. you clutched onto it.

luke realized that, despite your own advice, maybe you resented having to get used to the way things worked around here, and having to hide your resentment. maybe that was worse than having to sleep on an uncomfortable bed for the rest of your life.

"nemesis. goddess of revenge."

"that's....hardcore."

you scoffed and moved on to twisting the silver ring on your index finger. "a lot of people take it that way, and i think it scares them a bit.”

“so that’s why you’re extra nice to new campers, huh?”

“no, i was just in a good mood today.” you smirked.

“guess i was just lucky, then.”

luke couldn’t help but smile at your laugh — sharp, biting. you nudged your boot against his sneaker, which shifted you closer to him, shoulders practically touching.

“what people don’t understand is that it's more about balance, you know? you do good things, and good things happen to you. at least, they should. you do bad things and….” you pulled out an outrageously big bag of candy, dropped it between you and luke, and winked at him. “you face the consequences.”

“that makes sense.” luke leaned over to grab a handful of gummy bears. “like karma.”

“yeah. exactly.”

you bit the head off a red bear, both of you chewing in silence before you added:

“by the way, i’m sorry about your friend.” you swallowed and caught luke’s gaze.

chiron warned him that word would travel fast around camp about what happened to thalia, and luke had prepared himself for anything — anything but your reaction. there was no pity in your eyes; instead, there was a hint of rage, as though thalia had been your friend, too.

“she deserved more.”

luke’s eyes caught the glint of a knife strapped to your belt. he took another handful of the candy you stole, and he thought about the fire and fearlessness behind your words, and, despite everything, it felt right to be with you then and there.

“yeah,” he finally whispered back. “she did.”

we all do.

neither of you said those words, but the suggestion was there, and it felt like a promise.

(ii. you hold on to every stupid, little detail)

“slow down, tiger.”

your voice echoed throughout the arena, and if luke had been fighting a real opponent, it might have gotten him killed. instead, he just stopped mid-swing, sparing another straw dummy from losing its arm.

“left hand,” you noted as you walked past him towards a bench. “you, my friend, are in need of a break.”

luke loosened the grip on his sword. the only time luke fought with his non-dominant hand was when he had overworked the other. he must have switched an hour ago, but judging by how heavy his arm felt, it could have very well been two.

his curls were stuck to his forehead with sweat, his shirt soaked through. he could feel a dull pain behind his eyes, and luke was worried that if he stopped to catch his breath, he would pass out. or, even worse, have to face the reality of the shitty news he’d gotten early that day.

“come sit with me,” you urged. “you’re exhausted, tiger.”

luke bristled at your nickname for him.

sure, luke loved that there was something only you called him, a secret kept between you in plain sight, but it was also a reminder that it was harder to hide behind the hero act when you were around.

everyone else at camp figured the nickname was a playful attempt at calling him strong and charismatic. the truth was that luke once told you that his favorite cereal as a kid was frosted flakes and that he would dream of playing sports as well as tony the tiger. for better or for worse, like most things, you wouldn’t let it go.

case in point: if it was anybody other than you trying to get him to take a break, luke could have just brushed them off with a charming smile and continued swordfighting until his arms fell off, but in the two years since meeting you, luke had never met anyone as stubborn and convincing. like him, it seemed you were willing to fight and shed blood to get your way. luke was never really in the mood to make you bleed, even when feeling like he could burn the entire world down, so he usually gave in to your demands.

as soon as he sat down next to you, you handed him an orange flavored energy drink — his favorite. anything other than water was hard to come by at camp without the enchanted goblets in the dining pavilion, or the right connection in the hermes cabin. he ran out of his stash the other day, but you must have noticed and gotten one of the stoll brothers to smuggle more in.

“thanks,” luke said, ignoring the jolt of electricity that passed through him when your fingers brushed together briefly.

the two of you looked out at the sword arena, and all the straw dummies that luke had destroyed. you wait for him to take three big gulps of his drink before speaking again.

“i guess chiron and your dad decided you weren’t ready for a quest.”

luke exhaled sharply. “how did you —”

“the only time you’d skip out on capture the flag is if something really shitty happened.” you looked down at luke’s clenched fists, and that seemed to be all the confirmation you needed. “you promised annabeth you'd be there, and it's not like you to let her down."

fuck. he had completely forgotten that tonight was annabeth's first time as team captain. this entire week, she had been prepping a winning strategy. it wasn’t like annabeth needed him to win, but luke was her big brother, and he should have been there. you were right — he had let her down.

the realization made luke’s day go from bad to worse.

"i told her you were helping a new camper with an emergency. she didn't believe it, but she adjusted her strategy and we still won.”

“well, thank the gods everything worked in the end,” luke grumbled.

“don’t thank the gods,” you quipped. “thank annabeth chase for her brilliant mind, and me for covering for your sorry ass.”

when luke didn’t indulge in your usual playful banter, you moved closer to him and brushed some curls away from his eyes. your skin warmed his forehead, and the small gesture made him feel better than he had all day.

“look, i’m not going to give you some bullshit inspirational speech about how the gods don’t get to define what a hero is, or how you don’t need a quest to prove that you’re worthy of being one. we’ve each been through that before, and i have a feeling this won’t be our last time, either.”

“then why are you here?” the question came out harsher than luke had intended it to.

“because she’s trying her best to hide it, but annabeth is really hurt that you didn’t show up for the game. i figured the least you could do is suck it up, come to the campfire, and make her those signature luke castellan s’mores. you could probably use one, too, since you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.”

you were right, again. luke was exhausted, he was furious, but most of all, he was starving.

later that night, luke sat next to annabeth and vowed to make her as many s’mores as she wanted. you’d gone to sit with the hephaestus kids, trying to convince beckendorf and nyssa to join your cabin’s post-campfire party at the beach, even though they had to work in the forges early the next morning.

when chiron made his weekly speech, congratulating the winners of capture the flag and thanking the gods for keeping everyone safe, you and luke caught each other’s gaze from across the fire. you rolled your eyes and luke bit back a smile as you turned back to beckendorf. he noticed your knees were practically touching. did you sit that close to everyone?

luke was looking at you for so long that the marshmallow he was roasting fell into the fire, despite annabeth’s warnings. she handed him another one.

"you should tell her how you feel," annabeth said. "stop being a coward."

whether it was the smell of burnt sugar, the heat of the fire, or annabeth’s comment, luke started to feel dizzy. he did his best to shake it off, asking annabeth for a play-by-play of her strategy earlier that night, but he couldn’t quite get rid of the thought of you.

(iii. you don't care if your clothes are stained with blood)

“i just….i can’t fucking believe you, luke.”

“i don’t get why you’re so upset — you’ve never cared about quests before.”

luke was hoping to break the news to you after capture the flag. unfortunately for him, word travels fast around camp.

annabeth had the two of you scouting the east side for the flag, while she and some other athena kids took the west. you hadn’t found anything so far, which meant that you’d spent the better part of an hour bickering over luke’s choice of companions for his quest. a choice that included charles beckendorf and chris rodriguez, and purposefully did not include you, much to your fury.

before you could continue arguing, luke heard the sound of footsteps approaching. he looked over to you, and you already had your shield and sword at the ready.

a few red defenders emerged from the trees. one charged at luke, but you stepped in so he could deal with the other two. one of his opponents went down fairly easily, but the other put up much more of a fight. metal clashed behind him as you kept fighting as well. you might not have been as skilled a swordfighter as luke, but he knew that you could hold your own, at least until he was finished with the person in front of him.

luke parried his opponent’s strike, causing them to take a step closer. he was preparing to disarm them, just as he heard you yelp and stumble to the ground. it only took a millisecond of his attention, but it gave his opponent the opportunity to elbow him in the face. luke felt a crack upon impact, and pain radiated from his nose; he powered through.

he had to finish this fight, and he had to do it fast. you needed him.

his ears were ringing as he finally knocked over his opponent, kicking away their sword and keeping his foot on their chest. luke turned around to see you having turned the tides, the blade of your sword dangerously close to your opponent’s neck.

you locked eyes with luke, and you both understood — it was time to go. the two of you ran through the forest, as far away as you could before having to stop and catch your breath.

luke removed his helmet to get some air, and dropped his weapons. you did the same. you looked at him, brows furrowed.

“your nose.”

luke licked his lips, tasting blood. the triumph of winning that last fight overshadowed the ache of his potentially broken nose. in fact, he liked the image of a ruthless warrior emerging from the glory and gore of battle, that even though he did not bleed ichor like a god, he still had power.

you, on the other hand, didn’t look impressed. instead, you stepped forward and offered the sleeve of your shirt to wipe away the blood.

“you don’t have to —”

“i know you think you’re a badass walking around all broken and bloody, but you shouldn’t deny your admirers your pretty face,” you teased.

it was no secret that luke had numerous admirers around camp, a fact you loved to tease him about. he was sure that you relished in how flustered that made him. all you had to call him was pretty boy, and luke could be reduced to a blushing mess.

it was pathetic how much power you had over him.

“besides, i wouldn’t have gotten out of that last fight if you hadn’t taught me that disarming technique earlier. i owe you. it’s what we do. we take care of each other, right?”

he couldn’t argue with that.

a few moments of silence passed as you cleaned his face. something shifted as you worked, the flirtatious grin fading away. when you pulled away, your sleeve was stained a dark crimson.

“just tell me honestly,” you finally murmured. “why don't you want me to join your quest?”

luke was genuinely taken aback by the softness of your voice, now devoid of its usual fire. you wouldn’t meet luke’s eyes, but being that close to you, he noticed they were slightly glazed over.

he had expected you to be angry at his decision. he expected you to yell and argue and try to change his mind. luke hadn’t expected you to be so hurt. so broken.

he hadn’t planned on it, but luke decided to tell you the truth then.

“look, karma, if you come with me, my heart wouldn’t fully be in the quest. i’d be so caught up in….well, you.”

a pause.

“is that a bad thing?”

“not usually, no.”

you smirked a little at that, and luke’s heart skipped a beat. it also made his decision even clearer.

“but i need to be focused for this. i need….” he let out a deep sigh. “i need to prove myself. this is my first real chance, and i can’t fuck it up.”

you met his gaze and smiled brightly at him, your signature spark of confidence returning.

“you won’t.”

you reached a hand up to play with his necklace. luke hadn’t noticed how close you’d gotten until your fingers started tracing over those four clay beads. it made his entire body burst into flames.

“i’ve been wanting to do something for a while. and, aphrodite save me, it might be really stupid, but —”

luke took a lucky guess as to where you were going, and crashed his lips against yours. aphrodite knows that he'd been wanting to do that for a while, too.

he often got drunk on the adrenaline of battle, the glory of winning, but nothing was quite like the rush of kissing you for the first time.

it was messy and urgent, both of you aware that, at any moment, you could be interrupted. your noses were bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. the metallic tang of blood lingered on luke’s tongue, but neither of you seemed to care. you even bit his lip slightly, as if you wanted more. armor sat heavy and cold between your chests, preventing you from getting closer. luke had never loathed the protective gear more.

he made up for it by lodging one hand underneath your jaw, and snaking the other beneath the celestial bronze, beneath the cotton of your shirt, admiring how your pulse quickened under his thumb when he grazed the soft skin of your stomach. you tangled your hands into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. he groaned and felt you smirk against his lips.

luke had kissed a few people before, sure, but never like this: like a knife to the gut, and if you pulled away, luke would surely bleed out and die.

it wouldn’t be a hero’s death, in the traditional sense, but at least he’d die happy.

how many heroes could claim that?

when luke ran out of air, feeling like his lungs were burning, he had to pull away.

you glanced down at luke’s kiss-bitten lips, then back to his eyes. luke flushed under the intensity of your gaze.

“just promise me something, tiger,” you whispered, voice hoarse.

“anything.”

“come back alive.”

luke leaned forward and placed another kiss on your lips, this one much gentler than before.

“i promise.”

(iv. you love like a scar that won't fade)

the nightmares were getting worse.

luke woke up in a cold sweat, taking gulps of air in an attempt to steady his breathing.

“luke.”

your whisper did little to quell the pit of dread growing in his stomach, but it did enough to bring him back down to reality.

he was at camp half-blood (fuck the gods of olympus), in the hermes cabin (fuck you, dad), in a bed next to yours (fuck, if he could tell you what — who — was going through his head, he would).

“i’m…i’m fine,” he murmured back, voice catching slightly on the lie.

like clockwork, you shifted from your bed to his, slipping under the covers. it didn’t matter that it was a hot summer night, and the minute your legs touched his, he could feel himself starting to overheat.

your thumb brushed over the thick edge of his scar, up his cheekbone to the corner of his eye. it had been a year, living with this reminder. a reminder that he had failed, just as much as his father and the olympians had failed him.

luke tried to pretend that he didn’t come back from his quest as a shell of who he once was. after all, it was meant to be his shining moment as a demigod, meant to gain him all the glory and father’s praise he once wished for.

what a fucking joke.

every morning, luke would crawl into a different skin. he welcomed new campers and taught sword-fighting. he laughed with chris and his other siblings and strategized with annabeth for capture the flag. he would be the easy-going, charming, skillful senior counselor who respected the gods and honored them in everything he did.

again: a fucking joke.

nights were different, though, with you so close to him, you who could always see right through him.

every night, luke was a fourteen-year old boy again, with so much rage and resentment he didn't know what to do with it.

of course, you were always you - a bleeding heart underneath layers of armor. you didn't care about fate, or the gods, or the titans. you cared about justice, you cared about what was right and fair.

most of all, you cared about luke.

“you were screaming,” you told him, voice barely cutting through the soft snores and sleeptalkings of your other cabinmates.

“sorry,” he managed. looking at you in the dull moonlight, luke noticed the deep shadows under your eyes.

“it’s fine. you just….you scared me, tiger.”

your hand still rested on his cheek, and for a second, luke hoped you would kiss him, but you didn’t. instead, you told him to try and get some sleep, and sank further into his bed before closing your eyes.

for the hundredth night in a row, luke hoped you couldn’t hear his heart hammering in his chest as you fell asleep next to him.

since coming back from his quest, luke didn’t have it in him to suggest being anything other than friends, and you didn’t push it. there had been a few....moments between you, sure, but nothing more.

luke thought you might have changed your mind, because who would want to be with a bitter, worthless, wannabe hero? then again, that voice haunting his dreams…. luke could change that.

but, at what cost?

(v. you protect people as ruthlessly as a starving dog)

luke could hear you talking to percy jackson outside. though he couldn’t quite determine what was being said, as much as he tried.

you entered the bathroom and instantly caught luke’s eyes in the mirror. you were wearing your faded pyjama shorts with cartoon crows, and a flannel shirt that luke had a sneaking suspicion might have been his. you smiled at him before setting up at the counter, one sink between you.

“what was that about?” luke asked after spitting out a mouthful of minty toothpaste.

“oh, nothing.” you were searching through your toiletry bag for something, and seemed to come up short. “hey, do you have any extra dental floss?”

luke threw some over to you. as you effortlessly caught it, he noticed your knuckles, bruised and bloodied.

“what happened?”

you finished flossing and briefly examined your hands before pulling out your toothbrush.

“it’s not a big deal,” you assured. “some ares kids were picking on percy, and then they started pushing him around, like, really pushing him around, so….”

“....you decided to send them to the infirmary.”

you squeezed some toothpaste on your brush before continuing. “i don’t need you to lecture me about how i shouldn’t be fighting with other campers because i’ve been here longer and i should be a good role model. you know what a good role model does? not let kids beat up other kids and think the worst punishment they’ll get is no dessert for a week.”

luke watched carefully as you jammed the toothbrush in your mouth and brushed with such force, he was worried your teeth might dislodge. he knew that you would shed blood for someone you loved, and that you didn’t particularly care if you had to break rules in doing so, because you believed that what was written was not necessarily what was right.

in fact, luke loved that about you.

no, it wasn’t the fighting that luke cared about — it was who you were fighting for.

percy was a good kid, he really was. luke just didn’t want you getting attached.

“i wasn’t going to lecture you. i’m guessing chiron already did?”

you nodded and spat out what looked like a combination of toothpaste and blood. you rinsed your mouth until the water lost its pinkish hue. once you were done, luke continued his train of thought.

“i just didn’t realize you cared so much about him.”

“about percy?”

luke could tell that he didn’t have your full attention. you were packing your stuff back up, accidentally tossing luke’s dental floss into your bag, but he had more pressing matters to deal with.

“yeah. the kid’s only been at camp for three days, and you’re already acting like his guard dog.”

you finally turned to luke and glared at him.

“maybe. but percy’s sweet and he doesn’t seem like the type to put up with bullshit. he’s been through a lot, and annabeth seems to like him, too. as far as i’m concerned, percy’s one of us, and i’m not going to let anyone push him around.”

luke raised an eyebrow at you. “he’s sweet?”

“yeah. like, just now, he gave me some blue raspberry jelly beans as a thank you. said his mom used to work at a candy store. he also wanted me to apologize to you for him. he feels bad about beating you in sword-fighting earlier.”

you scoffed, like you resented luke for having to apologize to him on percy’s behalf. you definitely did not appreciate that guard dog comment. luke clenched his jaw, seething over what you had just said.

satisfied with his reaction, you gave luke that nauseating smile of yours, tilted your head towards the exit. a truce, because you never liked to fight with luke for too long, and a order, because you knew luke would always follow.

the two of you began walking back to your cabin in the warm mid-june air.

“i wouldn’t say he beat me,” luke huffed. “it was beginner’s luck.”

“sure, tiger. it was beginner’s luck that disarmed the best swordsman we’ve had in the last 300 years.”

you nudged luke’s shoulder with yours, but he recoiled from your touch.

“are you trying to make me feel worse?” luke tried his best to avoid snapping at you, keeping his tone measured.

“i’m just saying that maybe the kid has natural talent and that doesn’t make you any less talented. there’s no need to get jealous.”

luke resisted the urge to growl at your suggestion.

to be clear, he was not jealous. it’s just that luke had spent years of blood, sweat, and tears getting to where he was then, and percy jackson had just gotten to camp.

and, to be even more clear, luke was not jealous of how you were already defending percy with your whole body and your whole heart, the way you did for him.

by then, you reached the front of the hermes cabin. luke could already hear the commotion of what he would need to deal with as soon as he walked in. the burden of being head counselor, one he approached with an elastic smile that could snap at any moment.

you tugged on luke’s sleeve before he could open the door.

“hey. are we okay?”

luke looked down at your fingers grasping the fabric of a sweatshirt he was just realizing was yours. your nails were painted a dark red, now chipped after a week of wear. you had begged luke to paint his nails then, and once again, he gave in. he even started to like the purple you had chosen just for him, so deep it was almost black. the same color you were wearing the first time you and luke met.

he smiled at the memory — a real smile, no plastic — and then smiled back up at you.

“we’re fine, karma.” and he moved to enter the cabin. luke could hear the threat of an argument bubbling up, what sounded like a petty one over a prank gone wrong.

“wait.” you tugged at his (your) sweatshirt once more. “there’s something i wanted to talk to you about, about tomorrow night—”

“annabeth called a meeting during free time.”

“yeah, i know, it’s just —”

“she’ll run through strategy for capture the flag then.”

“one of the aphrodite senior campers asked me to the campfire,” you blurted it out, and luke decided to ignore the sound of a fight breaking out from behind the wooden door.

what in the name of hades were you talking about?

“they asked you out? like…like a….” luke didn’t even want to speak the word, scared it would make it real.

“a date,” you said casually, as if that one word didn’t rip luke’s heart in a million pieces. “i said yes.” an admission that took all those pieces and set them on fire.

sure, in the seven years since you and luke met, you’d each talked about boys, about girls, about dating and kissing them and going further. but there was something about this one that felt different. something about the way you told him.

“but, listen, i wanted to let you know it’s not —”

“good for you,” was all luke said through gritted teeth before someone started calling his name again, louder and more urgently, and he had to duck inside.

(vi. you taste like burning cherries and righteous anger)

your team had won capture the flag, of course. the biggest news of the evening, though: percy jackson was the son of the sea god.

he was a forbidden child, the hero of the great prophecy.

everything was falling into place.

all luke should be thinking about is kronos’ plan, and his role in it, and how a world without the gods of olympus was that much more in reach.

unfortunately, for the time being, he was so consumed by you.

you, from across the campfire, sporting cutoff denim shorts and fresh wounds from the game earlier. you, who had wrapped your knuckles in gauze, concealing their bruising, fixed the chips in your nail polish and stacked rings on your fingers. (for the record: luke had gifted you the one on your left thumb.) you, with dark lips that whispered too closely and laughed too loudly with a child of aphrodite— jordan li.

you hadn’t so much as looked at luke since congratulating each other on another win. when chiron announced his weekly gratitude to the gods at the start of that night’s campfire, you didn’t punctuate your resentment with your usual eye-roll or biting remark. you were too busy giggling at something jordan said.

luke wanted to be the one to whisper jokes in your ear. he wanted to be the one you left lipstick stains on later, along his jaw and down his neck. he wanted to be the one who kissed the blade mark on your shoulder and the bruises on your knuckles.

and yet, hours passed and it seemed that the thought of luke had never so much as crossed your mind. he found himself at an after hours party with a few senior campers on the beach. a lethal recipe: a poorly crafted bonfire, some contraband drinks and you in jordan li’s lap, playing with their hair and pretending luke castellan did not exist.

meanwhile, luke had katie gardner’s full attention. she was talking to him about the strawberry season, potentially leaning a bit too close into luke’s personal space, definitely flirting with him.

luke could have done a lot worse than the head counselor of the demeter cabin, who always smelled like fresh lavender, whose eyes were the bright green of spring grass and whose lips tasted like golden honey.

the problem was that luke only wanted you, and his eyes kept sliding over to where you were kissing jordan’s cheek, and he accidentally called the girl he was kissing by your name, which did not make her happy.

katie threw her drink in his face, told him to wake the fuck up, and walked away.

a chorus of gasps and chuckles erupted as luke stood there, diet coke and vodka seeping into his shirt. the commotion seemed to capture your attention, because you suddenly appeared next to luke, an empty bottle of cherry soda in your hand.

“rough night, tiger?” your voice, that nickname, made luke sick, his face twisting into a frown. you don’t seem to notice or care. instead, you switched your bottle with luke’s and took a sip.

“looks like you were having a pretty good time,” luke practically sneered. “where’s your date?”

“they went to bed.” you swallowed a mouthful of beer, grimacing at its bitterness. “gods, this is terrible. you and i should go on the drink run next time — we have better taste.”

“so, are you and jordan like a thing now?”

you gave luke a smile he didn’t quite understand, but made his stomach churn in ways only you could. “would that be a problem?”

“of course not.” he answered way too quickly for that to be true.

“let’s get out of here,” you suggested. “i think katie is about this close to strangling you with a tree branch.”

luke glanced over your shoulder to where green eyes glared back at him.

nowhere could luke find it in him to care. he wasn’t even sorry. he just shrugged, took the bottle back from you, took his first sip all night. luke almost gagged (because of course you were right, and the stoll brothers had better fake ids than they had taste) but he suppressed it.

“no. i’m good.”

biggest lie he ever said. like there wasn’t anger caught in his throat and jealousy swelling between his ribs.

“go find jordan,” he taunted. “kiss them, show them a good time! isn’t that the reason why you got all pretty?”

you narrowed your eyes at him carefully. your nostrils were slightly flared, and luke took a bit of pride in being able to rile you up.

“look, we haven’t really talked lately, and i think we should.”

“go find jordan,” he mocked once more. “almost all the aphrodite kids are here, and i’m sure you can be quiet enough to sneak into their cabin and if you want a quick fu—”

“luke.” you clipped his name, obviously getting to the limit of your patience with him. “if you want to stay here all night and be an asshole, you’re welcome to. you should know, though, that your happy-go-lucky hero mask is starting to crack and i don’t know if you could deal with the fallout from it shattering completely.”

you leaned in close and whispered that last part, very aware of the chattering that stopped and the eyes that watched the pair of you anxiously. luke was usually good at hiding that part of himself who wanted to burn the world down.

in ways you didn’t realize, you were right: he couldn’t risk revealing it, not now.

not yet.

“do whatever you want, castellan,” you spat out his last name, the combination of letters foreign in your mouth.“i’m leaving.”

luke should be proud of himself. he waited a whole two seconds before following you like a stray dog.

luke didn’t know if he’d ever felt you that enraged by him, and it horrified him. it also made him hungry for more.

“i’m not sure that jordan would want the two of us alone together at night,” he shouted after you, words echoing into the starless sky.

“gods, enough about jordan!” luke practically ran into you with how fast you turned around to confront him. “i was helping them with that stupid aphrodite tradition!”

“you….” luke faltered, all the snark leaving his body. “what?”

luke remembered silena beauregard once explaining the rite of passage to him: to prove themselves, a child of aphrodite had to make someone fall in love with them, and then break their heart.

“why…why would you agree to do that?”

you had reached the dining area by then, and you sat on one of the steps leading to the pavilion. luke stayed a few feet away, looking at you cautiously.

“jordan and i are already friends, and they figured a fake relationship would be the way to avoid anyone from actually getting hurt in the process.”

“you seemed so…so into it, though,” luke stammered, the memory of you in jordan’s lap, laughter bubbling from your lips, still fresh.

“it’s called acting, dumbass.” the camp didn’t rely on electricity, but there were enough torches around that luke could see you roll your eyes. “anyways, i was trying to give you a heads-up last night, but you wouldn’t listen.” you took a deep breath. “and, honestly, i didn’t push it because….i figured i should test a hypothesis.”

a hypothesis? you’d known annabeth for too long.

“what hypothesis?”

you hesitated.

“it doesn’t matter. fuck, this was stupid,” you muttered, and without another word, stormed through the dining pavilion, a short cut to the hermes cabin. your footsteps fell heavy against the marble, and luke’s not far behind.

“what hypothesis?” he asked again.

nothing but rushed footsteps.

“what hypothesis?” luke finally yelled.

third time was the charm, because you stopped in your tracks and faced luke once again. a fire burned in the bronze brazier, where campers were forced to offer up portions of your food to the gods at every meal. its roaring seemed to captivate you, and the flames danced across your face, illuminating all your curves and edges.

“i’m angry at the gods,” you stated.

this caught luke off guard. from the day the two of you met, luke knew you shared that feeling. you’d gotten quieter with your rage as you’d gotten older. luke supposed he got better at hiding it himself, as well.

“i’m angry at the gods for letting bad shit happen even if they can stop it, and for building this world in the fucked up way they did. i’m angry at your dad for the way he’s treated you, but — you, luke castellan.” you finally met luke’s eyes with a gaze so sharp, luke almost felt himself bleed. “i’m also angry at you, and not just for your bullshit tonight.”

your admission felt like a punch to the stomach, and luke was left with no air to breathe.

did you know?

“you haven’t been the same since your quest,” you continued, words slow and deliberate, the way you spoke when you were worried your voice would shake. “and i’ve come to terms with that in the past few years, but you….you’ve never tried to ice me out before. you’ve been acting distant since december, and it’s been driving me insane. do you realize how much i miss my best …..” you swallowed the word friend. “how much i miss you?”

luke hesitated, because what could he say? i know i’ve been distant, but i’ve been busy trying to start a war between the gods. sorry babe!

would you hate him, if you knew?

you had to have known that, despite the distance, luke missed you. for tartarus sake, in the last two days, he’d driven himself mad at you calling a fourteen year old boy sweet, and he was about to combust at the image of you dating someone else, with little care as to the collateral damage.

"you can't just avoid me, makeout with katie fucking gardner, and then….” you trailed off, hiding your face in your hands. whether it was to hide embarrassment or tears, luke wasn’t sure.

a smirk spread across luke’s face at the revelation that he hadn’t been the only one jealous at the bonfire that night. it lit luke up with the confidence he needed to not completely fall to his knees in front of you, beg for your forgiveness for everything he’s done.

“why do you care if i make out with katie fucking gardner?”

as he waited for a response, luke walked towards you until your back hit one of the marble columns.

“why do you care if i’m with jordan fucking li?” you clenched your jaw and looked right through luke. a clear indication that you wanted him to break down first; it wouldn’t be you who yielded this fight.

“because i want to be the one you’re with.” at that point, luke was so close to you that he swore he could hear your heartbeat. he reached out and played with the hem of your shorts. “why do you care if i make out with katie gardner?”

“because.” you drew in a sharp breath when luke’s fingers brushed underneath the denim, across the warm skin of your thigh. you closed your eyes. “don’t make me say it, tiger.”

the desperation in your voice made luke want to do unholy things with you, to you. luke knew you didn’t think of him as a saint, and you never expected him to be one. the reality was that you weren’t much better, either. what was essentially an altar to the gods burned bright next to you, but it seemed neither of you had ever cared less about it than in that moment.

luke would watch olympus fall. he would dethrone the gods and watch their glass castle shatter and find glory in a new world. in the grand scheme of things, he was willing to lose this battle.

in fact, he would have rather betrayed the titan lord himself than waste another second not kissing your lips.

so, he kissed you, and you kissed him back with such force, such hunger, it was ungodly.

no, you certainly weren’t a saint — but you were divine, in the most brutal, intoxicating way. in the way you shuddered when luke lodged a leg between your thighs; in the way you threaded your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans to bring him closer; in the way the metal of your rings burned through the skin of his hip, right to the bone, which made him shudder, and you smile triumphantly against his jaw.

the more he tasted your smirk flavored by cherry soda and the ashes of nearby flames, the more he felt your feral teeth against his neck and your wicked nails digging into his shoulders, the more you tugged on his curls, the more luke thought: maybe.

maybe you would give into your seething resentment, live up to those eye-rolls and snarky comments that got you in trouble with chiron, on the edge of hot water with the gods. maybe you would join the titan army. maybe, just maybe, this time, you would follow luke.

and yet — maybe wasn’t enough if it meant he could lose this. luke wouldn’t risk it, not until he kissed every battle scar and bruise on your body, and you did the same to his.

“wait.”

it was the last thing luke wanted to do, but he complied. he took the opportunity to appreciate the chaos he created: your shirt in disarray, your lipstick a mess, your chest heaving and desperate to catch a breath.

“i promised jordan that we’d keep up our charade for a week, two at the most. do you think we could keep this…” you tightened your fist around the fabric of his shirt. “a secret until then?”

luke responded by pressing his lips to yours once more, because there were definitely worse secrets to keep.

(vii. you wouldn’t hesitate to make him bleed)

luke had just left percy jackson to die.

he should be leaving camp, now, but he needed to see you one last time.

the universe works in mysterious ways, because you were out on a run through the forest, and you crossed paths before he even had time to wonder where you were.

“hey, tiger.” you smiled as if this was a regular afternoon. the two of you would teach your afternoon activities, sneak away during dinner so luke could kiss you in that spot that made you gasp. “wanna join me? i was just wrapping up, but i could be convinced to go longer.”

for a second, he was tempted to. very tempted.

“i don’t have much time.”

you seemed to notice luke’s sullen mood and you dropped your playful demeanor.

luke explained: the messages from kronos in his dreams, him stealing the lightning bolt and helm of darkness to start a war between the gods and framing percy. the plan to destroy olympus that luke had pledged his life to.

percy was surprised at what luke had done, and luke could imagine that the rest of camp would be, too. luke was the golden boy of camp half-blood, everyone’s big brother.

you, on the other hand, didn’t express any sense of shock.

“luke.” you said his name like you weren’t quite sure it was poison. “i’m going to give you five seconds to tell me that you’re joking.”

five seconds of silence passed. you took a few steps back from luke.

“i….i should have told you sooner.”

“yeah,” you scoffed. “you should have. but, you didn’t. did it feel good, having the titan king whispering sweet nothings in your ear? all the lies about how this war is the only way to get the glory you so desperately want? it’s fucking delusional.”

“it’s not delusional—”

“yes, it is!” you glared at him. “you’re on the wrong side of a war you made the mistake of starting.”

luke straightened his posture, thinking about how hypocritical you were being.

“isn’t this what you’re all about? revenge, karma. your mom will probably join us, too. don’t you want to see the gods finally get what they deserve?”

“not like this. i can’t believe how desperate you are, to believe that kronos is going to make everything right. it’s pathetic,” you spat. “i’m not saying the gods don’t deserve to be taken down a notch. their fucking obsession with power and glory….it’s sick and twisted, but i don’t think your titan king is any better. i don’t think you are any better.”

“it’s time that the gods fall. this is the only way, even if it isn’t perfect,” luke countered. his voice was firmer now as he absorbed your anger. your mother was the goddess of revenge, but you clearly didn't understand the sacrifices, pain, and blood that was required to make the world a better place.

luke just needed to convince you.

“we’ve talked about this for years,” he continued. “nothing is balanced! there’s no justice here, for anyone. we can build a better world where we don’t have to burn our scraps and throw ourselves at monsters to get attention. we can fight together like we always have. y/n, i love—”

“don’t,” you snapped. “don’t you fucking dare. you should have died on your quest.” your voice laced with venom. one hand gripping the knife you always kept on your belt. “that dragon should have fucking sliced through you and saved us all the trouble.”

something pricked in the back of his throat, down to his stomach.

“you don’t mean that.”

“i do,” you promised. “at least you would have died with all of us thinking you’re a hero instead of the traitor you really are.”

you grabbed your knife, took a fighting stance.

“i’m not going to fight you,” was all luke could say. he noticed your hand tremble, and you tightened the grip on your knife to prevent emotion from slipping through your invisible armor.

in that moment, you have could slice through luke, and it would hurt less than everything you just said, less than the murderous look you were giving him, like he was just another monster you wouldn’t think twice about sending to tartarus.

luke didn’t even have a chance to unsheathe his sword before you charged at him, but he quickly had you pinned to the ground, the tip of your own knife pointed at you. he hesitated. the blade pressed harder against your cheek than he intended, enough to break the skin and let a few droplets of dark crimson escape.

“please come with me,” he pleaded. you didn’t answer, but you did seem surprised by the softness of his voice.

a few moments passed, the celestial bronze still between you. luke waited for you to see his way, to yield to his proposal.

you didn’t. instead, you took advantage of the situation. you wrapped your leg around his and flipped your position. in the process, you regained possession of your knife. without the hesitation that held luke back, you sliced through his cheek, deep. luke bit his lip to suppress a groan, tasting blood. your gaze set his whole body on fire as he waited for your next move. that was when you glanced down at his camp necklace, and the new clay bead added to commemorate this summer.

a turquoise trident.

“percy told me he was on his way to see you,” you realized. “what did you do?”

luke didn’t answer. he knew then that a choice ran through your head.

and it stung, just a little, watching you sprint away through the trees in a last ditch effort to save percy’s life.

there was a small, pathetic part of luke that wanted you to choose him, even if it meant you would have plunged the knife into his chest.

#this is my baby fr #really feeling the tragic hero vibe down to my core #will prob do a part 2 from reader's POV!#ofc inspired by get him back! bc nemesis!reader....#percy jackson #pjo fanfic #pjo series #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #luke castellan angst #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan smut #saf writes #Spotify

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keshavkumar · 1 year

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13lov · 7 months

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tethered. | jjk

Love notes were slipped into your locker on a daily basis. Variations of messy, boyish handwriting on yellow sticky notes stacked upon themselves by the end of each school day. Every Friday night you were invited out with the promise of "You'll have fun, just give it a chance."

You could have any guy you wanted, no doubt about it. Yet somehow, the only one you do want is the tattooed, gothic one that lives a few doors down from your best friend.

✰ pairing. — emo!jk x reader

✰ genre. — early 2000s au, best friend's older brother, childhood friends to lovers, smut, light angst.

✰ word count. — 7k+

✰ warnings. — swearing, family issues, partying, mentions of drinking/drugs, friendship betrayel (?), smut [virginity loss, teasing, fingering, soft dom!jk, "i've waited so long for this" type shit], reader and jk are both 18+, minors dni.

✰ a/n. really love this pairings and would love to have drabbles with them in the future, so pls lmk if u guys would be interested in that! thanks for all the love on the teaser, hope u enjoy! <3

✰ taglist. @ahgasegotarmy116 @hellbornsworld @kissyfacekoo @littlestarstinyseven @skzthinker

Two monumental events had been etched into your brain for eternity, the first being sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet up with your friends at the community pool. The second is fifteen minutes upon arriving at the pool, seeing your best friend's older brother emerge from the chlorine-scented water as if he were Poseidon and realizing you were utterly infatuated by him.

Jeon Somi isn't blind to this, immediately pulling you away from the crowd to question the longing gaze on your face. "Out of every fucking guy here with us, you're making eyes at my brother? You do know that Jungkook is completely gross, right?" She was so furious, you're surprised no steam was blowing from her ears.

Deny it all you want (and you certainly did within that fifteen-minute interrogation); Jungkook very clearly had a hold on you that lasted many years following that fateful night. He wasn't even your usual type; he wouldn't be caught dead around the guys you're typically drawn to. He had a rebellious side; maybe that's why getting him out of your head was nearly impossible.

Of course, the eternal guilt of falling for your best friend's older, dumbass brother is also difficult to get out of your head.

It can't be helped, really. Anytime you'd visit their home, your eyes would automatically wander through the crack of his doorway as you'd pass by. Whether he was messily cutting his dark hair while blasting Pierce the Veil from his speakers or giving himself a new Stick-and-Poke tattoo as he waited for a CD to finish burning, you long to break away from Somi for a moment to speak to him. Ask him about his day or if his band had any upcoming gigs. You'd even talk to him about paint drying if it meant you'd get to be in the same space as him.

So it's safe to say you were completely heartbroken when he left for college. Somi, however, is over the moon. Or so you think.

"… He's your brother, though. You don't think you're gonna miss him at all?" You ask, watching Somi delicately paint your fingernails a pretty shade of purple.

She shrugs, "I mean… it's definitely gonna be weird not seeing him around the house every day, but he'll still visit sometimes. Maybe."

Deep down, Somi knows Jungkook won't visit much. He'd been craving freedom and independence from their parents for ages, and moving away for college gave him the perfect opportunity to live as he pleased. They weren't fond of the clothes he wore or the friends he had, and absolutely couldn't bear the music his band makes. They criticized every little thing about him, and he'd finally be getting a break from them.

As you're about to ask Somi if she's okay, she stands from her bed, screwing the nail polish closed. "I'll be back. I have to let Bam out." Her voice is shaky, and she doesn't look at you as she exits the room.

You take the opportunity to make your way down the hall and to Jungkook's door, which he has conveniently left wide open as he scrolls on his desktop. His knees are pressed against his chest as he's heavily focused on editing his Facebook page. There's a rock song playing lightly from another tab that you can't quite identify; he uses his free hand to gently tap along to the beat of the music.

His room is covered in cardboard boxes, soon to be packed into his parents' minivan and making their way to the University of San Francisco dorms.

Your knuckles tap on his wooden door, your heart fluttering when he turns around, and you realize he's changed the ring on his lip from black to silver.

He nods at you, "What's up?"

"Nothing. I just know you're leaving in the morning, and I wanted to say bye. And wish you good luck, of course." You're not sure why you're so heartbroken. It's not like the two of you were ever a thing. It's not like this would be your last time seeing him. Why were you so upset?

"Cool, thanks." You assume that was his way of indirectly telling you to get out until he reaches into his desk drawer and says, "Catch," before tossing something towards you.

Careful not to mess up your manicure, you easily catch the item, unfolding what appears to be a purple bandanna. "What's this for?" You ask, inspecting the material in your palms.

"To remember me by, duh. Plus, it matches your nails.”

It'd be silly to tell him you genuinely don't need this because there was no way in hell you could ever forget about him. Instead, you clutch the bandana tightly in your fist and make a silent vow to keep it with you at all times; have a piece of him with you at all times.

You thank him and tell him it's nice, but all you can wonder is why he even wants you to remember him in the first place. Maybe you're overthinking. He probably just didn't care for the useless accessory anymore.

When you turn to leave, Jungkook stops you with a gentle call of your name. He turns his head in your direction, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. "Can I tell you something?"

"Anything." You whisper back, praying you don't sound overly desperate for a more extended interaction with him.

A beat of silence passes, and just as he opens his mouth to respond, Somi is stomping up the stairs and belting out your name. You gaze away from Jungkook to glance behind you, listening as his sister shouts about doing each other's makeup.

"Never mind, actually. It's not important." Jungkook interrupts, and you physically feel your heart sink to the floor.

You're about to be annoying and pry a response out of him until your eyes dart to his floor, and you see it. What slipped out from his drawer when he tossed the bandana at you.

A condom wrapper. An empty one, at that.

It's embarrassing how quickly your vision becomes glossy, salty tears threatening to release with each passing second. Of course, he's fucking someone. Of course, that person isn't you. Of fucking course.

You shouldn't be surprised; he's probably more into girls with a similar aesthetic. She's probably covered in tattoos and piercings, just like him. She's probably older than you and may even have her own car, unlike you, who still had to catch rides with your parents or older sister.

It's odd, though. You're not entirely naive; you know Jungkook definitely flirts with you here and there, catching his eye when his gaze lingers on you for a second too long. There's a noticeable tension between the two of you that even your parents have teased about. And this whole time, he's been screwing someone else?

Jungkook hangs out with so many girls it'd be useless to even attempt to uncover who this mystery person is. It's none of your business, anyway.

So you leave.

You tell Somi you'll get grounded if you're home past curfew, and with tear-stained cheeks, you run home.

The following day isn't any easier.

Somi posted a photo on FaceBook of herself and Jungkook posing together, arms wrapped around each other, with the caption "c u l8r alligator XD". The comments are already flooded with responses wishing Jungkook farewell, some from family members or friends of the siblings.

"Don't 4get abt me!!!!!! >:( "from a girl with red hair catches your eye because it's the only one Jungkook responded to. You can't bring yourself to read his full reply, fingers moving to quickly close the tab after seeing the word 'Never.'

It's probably her, you think to yourself, the one he's sleeping with.

Maybe it's for the best that Jungkook's moving away; it'll give you some time to get over him.

And you most certainly did.

The only time he ever crosses your mind is when Somi brings him up (which she rarely does) or when you pass by his empty bedroom. Deep down, you know you'll always care for Jungkook on some level, but time away from him was just what you needed. You were too attached to him for no fathomable reason, rejecting any guy interested in you with the premise of being loyal to a guy who didn't even want you. He'd probably been sneaking girls in through his window, with you a few doors down doing magazine quizzes with his sister; blissfully unaware of what was happening down the hall.

You’re better off without him.

That's what you've been telling yourself daily until now. It's the start of summer vacation, and Jungkook's been summoned home to spend it with his family before Somi (and you) transfer to the University of San Francisco.

Jungkook was hesitant about coming home, as he always is. In constant fear that his parents have some elaborate plan for him to change his major or set him up with someone they deem acceptable, nothing like the girls he hangs around and probably invites back to his dorm.

It took days of convincing until Jungkook finally agreed to come home, under the premise that his parents' intentions were pure and that they simply wanted one last summer together before Somi moved away for college. They also hoped he'd be able to house-sit and watch over Somi for a few days as they took their annual anniversary trip to San Diego. That, however, took some bribing and the promise of gas money on their end.

He's not due to arrive until tomorrow morning, and you've convinced yourself there's no reason for you to see him right away. You'd be fine if the next time you saw him was in a few months as you're moving into your dorm. After years of longing, you've finally moved on from him.

Some of you have debated telling Somi about your past feelings for her brother, but there's no point. It was a one-sided relationship with absolutely zero depth, nothing worth discussing. So when she nudges your side and asks if you're interested in anyone, you reply with a shake of your head.

Somi has no reaction to this; she can't remember the last time you've been into anyone despite having the entire male population at your school practically throwing themselves at you. "Maybe you'll meet someone tonight."

She's referencing the house party you're going to, which she practically had to drag you out of your room to attend. Parties are different from your scene, especially on a day like today when you were hoping to have a girls' night with Somi. She had other plans, however.

"Maybe," you respond, sighing as the house you're attending is finally in your viewpoint. "We're not staying long, right? It looks packed."

Cars are parked throughout the street, one house, in particular, being the center of attention with loud music and drunk people decorating the front yard of a suburban-looking home. Somi looks as ecstatic as ever, looping her arm in yours and picking up her pace. She doesn't respond. It doesn't matter. Her response would've disregarded your concern.

One car catches your eye as you enter the unfamiliar house; it's parked towards the end of the street, and you swear you've been in it before. You're not able to dwell on it for too long, though, because Somi has to practically yank you through the front door.

Your nerves are at an all-time high. The music is entirely too loud, and there isn't a single sober person in sight. You're not sure how Somi even found out about this party, but you really wish she would've left you out of it. You'd go now if it were acceptable, but Somi would've stayed regardless, and you refuse to leave her alone. So, you push your feelings to the side and take her hand as she leads you towards the kitchen.

"Thirsty?" Somi questions, forcing a red solo cup into your hand.

"Not at all," you respond, sighing as Somi pours something into your cup.

"It's just ginger ale," she reassures you, "I don't think either of us should get drunk here." For once, she's being reasonable.

Somi suggests you do a lap around the house in hopes of running into people you may have gone to school with. And to your surprise, a decent amount of your past classmates have decided to attend. You feel more at ease with them around, a bit more comfortable now that you're around recognizable people. Although you initially hesitated to show up, you're glad you did.

"Anybody catch your eye yet? Or are you still breaking hearts?" Your old classmate, Yeoreum, questions.

You shake your head, about to explain that you're not interested in dating right now, until she gestures behind you. "That guy is pretty cute."

You shift on the couch, looking around until you spot who Yeoreum had been gesturing towards. You locate him finally, and she's right; he is cute. He just seems so familiar.

That's when it hits you.

"Oh my God," you whisper, eyes locked on him, and you slowly rise from the couch.

It's Jungkook. And the car you recognized was his. He's here. What is he doing here? He isn't due to be back until tomorrow morning.

You almost don't realize it's him until you spot the mole under his lip. He's grown his hair out and stopped dyeing it, the slew of tattoos that decorated his arm (God, did he start working out, too?) nicely connected, now creating a sleeve, and he's given himself an eyebrow piercing. Your feelings for him come rushing back in full force.

Panicked, you reach for Somi's hand, but she's nowhere to be found. Careful not to be seen by her brother, you bow your head slightly, passing through a crowd of sweaty bodies until you finally spot her kitty heels. She's leaned against a wall, swirling around her cup while flirting with some guy you'd seen around school a few times.

Creating some much-needed distance between the two, you tug Somi towards you. "I think I just saw your brother."

"What? No, he won't even be in the city until tomorrow morning."

Frustrated, you quickly search the crowd until your eyes land on him again. You ignore the fact that he's now speaking to some girl with red hair and tattoos scattered across her arm and point in their direction, "Well, then that guy looks just like him."

Somi squints her eyes in disbelief at the boy in question until the doubt becomes confusion, and the confusion becomes realization. "Oh my God! The fuck is he doing here?" She turns towards you as if you're supposed to have the answer.

"The fuck should I know? You said he wouldn't be here until tomorrow morning!"

"Because that's what he told our parents! How was I supposed to know he was gonna be here? I never would've come if I knew!"

"What are you guys doing here?" A voice you haven't heard in so long interrupts. You don't even want to turn around.

"What are you doing here?" Somi throws back, and the two stare at each other in angry silence for a moment until Jungkook steps to the side. "Upstairs," he says, nodding towards the staircase.

"But—"

"Go."

Somi's clearly aggravated but makes her way towards the stairs. You remain in place with your arms crossed, raising a brow in confusion when Jungkook looks at you. "What?"

"You too."

"I'm not—"

"I'm not asking again," he says simply. You convince yourself that you only take his command because you don't feel like fighting. Definitely not because it's interesting to have him boss you around.

Trudging up the stairs behind Somi, you wait with her in the hallway until Jungkook arrives. "Come on," he says, entering a bathroom and turning the light on. Neither you nor Somi protest; there really isn't any point.

As soon as the door is shut, Somi is yelling at the top of her lungs. "What the fuck are you doing here?! You said you wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning! Mom and Dad had to push their trip back just to give you more time to arrive, and you're already fucking here?! The fuck is the matter with you?!"

"I'm not gonna respond if you're gonna be yelling like this." Jungkook says calmly, leaning against the sink, "Let me get my questions out first, then I'll answer any of yours, deal?"

Somi glances over at you, sitting on the bathtub's edge, and you nod. She returns her attention back to Jungkook, takes a deep breath, then agrees.

"Now, what are you guys doing here?! How'd you even get invited?! And you're drinking?!" The calm demeanor from earlier slips away in a matter of seconds, clearly a hoax just to get Somi to calm down enough to let him speak.

"It's just ginger ale, and we've barely even had any! We were invited by our friends, okay? We have just as much right to be here as you do."

Jungkook scoffs, clearly unamused. "Right, and I'm assuming Mom and Dad know you're here then, huh?"

Somi nervously tucks a hair behind her ear. You wonder why you even have to be in here with them. It's not like Jungkook is your brother, anyway.

"We told our parents that we were going to a birthday party at a friend's house." Somi mumbles, barely able to look Jungkook in the eye.

"And what did they say when they dropped you guys off?"

"They didn't drop us off," you interrupt, "we walked here."

"Well, I wasn't gonna tell him that." Somi glares at you, it takes every bone in your body to not to laugh at her.

You're so over this. You didn't want to attend this dumb party in the first place, and seeing Jungkook flirting with some girl who could've been his female counterpart was the icing on the cake. It doesn't matter if your feelings for him were gone before tonight; every little emotion you'd felt for him over the years had returned (as if they ever left).

"And how exactly did you two geniuses plan on getting home?"

"Same way we got here."

"Can you please just let me handle this? Jesus Christ…" Somi shoots another frustrated glare at you, and you can't help but roll your eyes at her. She turns back towards her brother, "Can you answer my questions now?"

Jungkook's eyes anxiously dart around the cramped bathroom, landing on you a few times before he's slowly nodding his head. "Alright, Mom and Dad basically forced me to spend the whole summer here, and I kept asking myself why they were so persistent about it. They finally told me they needed me to watch over you and the house for their stupid trip. I had plans too, you know? That I had to derail for them. My band could've spent this summer touring, making real money, and now we can't. So, they wanna inconvenience me? I'll inconvenience them right back."

"…Inconvenience them by doing what?" Somi asks the exact question you had.

Jungkook shrugs, "By telling them I'm gonna be arriving a day late, duh."

You and Somi exchange an awkward glance at one other before silently agreeing not to tease him about it. If this was his badass way of retaliating, who were you to rain on his parade?

"Are you gonna tell anyone you saw us here?" Somi questions, a noticible tremble in her voice.

"As long as you guys don't tell anyone you saw me."

It's a fair trade, you accept it. You're even more delighted when Jungkook says he's taking the two of you home. Somi, however, isn't too happy about this, claiming there were so many people she didn't get to speak to, and how'd this be the last time she'd get to see them before moving away for school. You're not sure if Somi is really good at getting what she wants, or if Jungkook was tired of hearing her complain, but he finally gives in and grants her ten more minutes to socialize before meeting him at his car.

"If you're not at my car in ten minutes, I swear to God I'm calling mom." Jungkook scolds, holding the bathroom door open as the three of you finally exit.

A loud, drunk voice suddenly shouts, "Woah, Jungkook! Two girls at the same time!? You fucking beast!"

"They're my sisters, you fucking pervert!" He shouts back.

You can't even dwell on how disgusting the original comment was, only being able to focus on the fact that Jungkook just reffered to you as his sister. As conceited as it may sound, you're not used to rejection or guys putting you in the friend-zone. Whatever little game Jungkook had been playing with you over the years was completely new territory. And right when you think things couldn't possibly get any worse, he calls you his sister.

What the actual fuck.

The next ten minutes go by in a blur; Somi has ditched you for a second time that night to talk to the guy from earlier. When it's finally time to leave, you find her Sat on his lap with her arm hung across his shoulder, laughing at an unfunny pickup line he'd used on her.

"It's time, Somi," you interrupt, helping her stand.

"Wait, wait, wait," she persists, directing her attention back to the boy, "tomorrow at five, right?"

"And not a second later." He sends her a disgusting wink that makes your skin crawl.

Somi is so love-struck you're surprised there isn't an arrow lodged in her back. She can barely form a proper sentence, erupting into a fit of giggles every few seconds as you make your way to Jungkook's car. "Wasn't he just gorgeous?"

You shrug, linking arms with her. "He was alright."

Stunned, Somi gasps at you, "Just alright? He was literally like a Greek God."

"I'm not saying he's unattractive; he's just...not really my type."

"And what is your type, Miss. Never-Has-Been-Interested-In-Anyone?"

Now, there's the question of the hour. You have to word your response very carefully; don't be too obvious about the fact that your ideal type is her older sibling.

"I guess I prefer guys with an edgier look to them, you know? Tattoos, piercings..." Despite your attempt to sound as nonchalant as possible, your heart is beating out of your chest from the mild confession.

Somi snickers, then playfully groans. "It sounds like you're describing my brother."

Now, you really have to test the waters.

"Since you brought him up, would it be so bad if I did like Jungkook? Hypothetically speaking, of course." You're not sure what prompts you to even ask this. It's not like he's even interested in you; he literally just referred to you as his sister.

A beat of silence passes as Somi gathers her thoughts, then she says, "No."

"What?"

You've finally reached Jungkook's car at this point, beating him there. You sit atop the trunk, feet hovering above the ground as the cold, nighttime air swirls around you. Somi shakes her head, "Obviously, it wouldn't be the ideal situation, but I guess I wouldn't mind as long as you talked to me about it first."

"First?" You mimic.

"Like...assuming you'd wanna date him or something. Just so I'm not blindsided, you know?"

This is the last thing you would've expected your impulsive, hotheaded (yet oh-so-loveable) best friend to be reasonable about. Mainly because she lectured you for nearly twenty minutes when she first suspected you had a crush on Jungkook.

You go to respond, but Jungkook, finally arriving at the car, captivates both of your attention. He finishes off his can of Pepsi before crushing the aluminum and tossing it to the ground. "Ready?" He questions.

There's no point in giving him a speech about littering; you're just ready to go home.

He fishes his keys from his pocket and unlocks the car door; Somi opens the backseat and jumps in before you have the chance, sprawling across the aged leather. "Move over," you nudge her foot with your knee; she pulls away from you.

Jungkook calls your name, "Just sit up front. She's not gonna move."

Now, this is new. You've ridden in the backseat of his car with Somi more times than you can count; he'd never allow either of you to sit shotgun with him; typical annoying older brother bullshit.

Don't make a big deal out of this, you say to yourself, climbing into the passenger seat of his car.

Somi and Jungkook bicker the entire ride to their parent's house, partially out of annoyance with each other, but you also get the feeling that neither of them were genuinely ready to leave the party. You're surprised Jungkook even enjoyed parties; he spent most of high school either working, hanging out at skate parks, or practicing with his band in their garage. College must've really changed him, and you're unsure how to feel about it.

Jungkook parks a few houses down from their parent's house and unlocks the doors, "Get out," he says into the backseat.

"Where are you gonna spend the night?" Somi questions, stretching her arms outward.

"I checked into a motel this morning. I'll be back here tomorrow around noon. And, hey," Jungkook turns around, pointing a finger at his sister. "Don't tell them you saw me."

Mockingly, Somi points a finger right back at him. "Telling them I saw you would be exposing myself, cock-sucker. Leave me alone." She angrily begins to climb out of the car, annoyed at how little trust Jungkook had in her.

You turn to go, but Jungkook's cold hand on your bicep stops you, "Where you goin'?"

"I'm gonna walk home from here. It's only a few minutes away," you respond.

Jungkook shakes his head, "I'm dropping you off. You haven't moved since I left, right?"

"No, but it's fi—"

"Then your house is on the way to my motel. We're going in the same direction; might as well ride together."

It truly does make more sense to ride together, and rejecting his offer any further surely would raise suspicions. You don't want either of them to believe you'd feel uncomfortable being alone with Jungkook because that couldn't be farther from the truth. You're perplexed about your feelings now, and you don't want to do anything you'd regret just because of the confusion.

"Okay, then." You glance over your shoulder at Somi, "Will you need any help getting ready for your date tomorrow?"

Suddenly embarrassed, Somi shushes you, gesturing that Jungkook is literally right next to you and would prefer that he didn't hear about her dating life. Jungkook genuinely couldn't care less and is instead patiently waiting for his sister to get out.

She does finally, and Jungkook resumes his path to your house. He turns the radio on, switching between stations until he stops on one that's playing a song he's familiar with. You drive silently for a few minutes; the only sounds being heard are the distant noises from the car's motor and Jungkook humming along to the radio.

He breaks the silence by saying, "I was surprised to see you back there. You never really seemed like the type to enjoy parties."

You chuckle, "I could say the same for you; I don't remember you attending any in high school."

"That's 'cause house parties weren't my thing," he explains, "I went to raves or parties that would happen at the skate park. I don't really like being at someone else's house for too long; it feels too intimate."

Now that you think of it, skate park parties and raves seem much more like his scene.

"Well, I only went because Somi was going, and I didn't feel comfortable with her being there alone. Otherwise, I never would've gone." You admit, resting your head against the window.

"Thanks for looking after her, by the way. You're a good friend."

"I'd do anything for her." Your voice is barely a whisper now, getting quieter with every word you say.

Silence passes, and he says, "Did you know your guys' dorm room is gonna be right under ours?"

"Seriously?" You respond, genuinely curious.

"Mmm-hmm. My roommate, Mingyu, and I are gonna be the worst upstairs neighbors ever." He teases as you roll your eyes. Your mind can't decipher whether this banter is playful & platonic or romantic. Everything Jungkook does confuses you.

"If that's the case, I'll be sure to move to an entirely new building."

"What, so you can have your boyfriend protect you?"

Pause. Boyfriend?

You nearly give yourself whiplash from how hard you spun around to look at Jungkook. "Boyfriend?" You ask.

He shrugs nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the road. "I just assumed you'd have one by now. Do you?"

There he is again with his mind games. What the fuck was he talking about?

After letting out a very frustrated sigh, you mumble, "No, Jungkook, I do not have a boyfriend."

"Good. Focus on school."

Now he's pissing you off. You wish he'd shut up for the rest of the car ride. "It's nice to see you again, by the way."

Holy shit, you feel like jumping out the window.

"Yeah, great seeing you too. Oh, there's my house. I can walk from here." You make quick work of undoing your seatbelt.

"You sure? I can drop you off at the door."

"No, no. It's best if my parents don't see you so they don't accidentally tell your parents that they saw you." You lie, racking your brain for any excuse imaginable.

He nods, deciding it's best to drop you off a little further from your house. "Then, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"What?" You stop dead in your tracks, one hand clutching the door handle.

"Aren't you coming over tomorrow to help Somi get ready for her…thing? I'll be back home by then."

He's right; you'd be back in his house, and he'll be there this time. It's no big deal. You'd only be there for an hour (at most) to help her prepare, and then you could go the whole summer without seeing him again.

"Yeah, I'll see you then."

The following day, Somi is back to her unreasonable self, expecting you to wait at her house for her to return from her date.

"Please? We're just going to get pizza; we won't even be gone that long." She pleads, adding the finishing touches to her makeup.

You'd already spent over an hour helping her prepare, and now she expects you to do nothing but await her return. You know her heart's in the right place; she just wants to be the first to hear all the exhilarating details about her date. Still, a phone call would suffice.

"What am I supposed to do while I wait for you to come back?" You whine.

"Just hang out here! Watch a movie or something!" She suggests, trying her absolutely hardest to sound enthusiastic. Her phone buzzes in her hand before she has the chance to continue, eyes lighting up as they flicker across the bright screen.

Somi clutches her phone, locks eyes with you, then rushes towards the door. You're faster, though, quickly capturing her wrist before she's barely reached the hallway. "I'm going home."

"No! If you stay here, I'll bring you back pizza, and we can have a girls' night like we were supposed to yesterday! Come on, please?" She begs, pouting her lips.

You go to reply, but the bathroom door swings open, and Jungkook strides out. Just to your luck, he's shirtless; water droplets descend from his hair as he towel-dries it. As he enters his bedroom, he mocks his sister's high-pitched whine, earning a lethal glare and a slew of swears thrown at him.

Perhaps you should stay.

"Fine, but you're lending me your pajamas." You give in, earning an enthusiastic shriek from your best friend.

Somi wraps you in a brief, yet tight, hug before shouting, "Be back soon!" Then she's rushing down the stairs and out the front door. It's not often that Somi makes you wait for her return, but you absolutely despise it whenever it does occur. She's never back by the time she promises and gets upset when you try to call and check up on her.

And speaking of calling, you're sure your phone is dead by now. You insisted Somi bring her's along just in case, so you're left with one option.

Jungkook's door is wide open (as usual) when you go to knock. He's fully clothed now, pairing his black sweatpants with a matching black t-shirt. His hair appears mostly dry now, chaotic as ever, but dry. You don't think he's ever looked this good before.

He's sat on his bed, flipping through the latest copy of Rolling Stone when you arrive. He glances over at you and lets out a dry chuckle.

"What's so funny?" You ask.

"You're dressed like Bella Swan." He responds casually, eyes raking up and down your body.

"Who?"

"From Twilight. You know, that new movie that came out?" He seems genuinely surprised that you don't seem to know anything about this movie, not even the name of (who you suspect to be) the main character.

You lean against the doorframe, "Haven't seen it."

"It's a great movie, seriously. Some friends and I are seeing it in a few days if you and Somi wanna come." He suggests, flipping another page in the magazine.

You let him know you'll ask Somi if she's interested before remembering why you came to his room in the first place and ask if you can borrow his phone charger. Jungkook directs you to where it's plugged up by his desk, and you finally have the chance to stroll further into his room. You can't recall the last time you've been in here, but you know it looks much different than before. Many of the band posters that decorated the room were gone, his random trinkets and piles of clothes were gone, and not a single piece of his CD collection was in sight. It felt so lifeless, so unlike him. No wonder he always dreaded returning home; it probably didn't even feel like home to him.

"So," you say, attempting to break the silence, "you're here for the whole summer, huh?"

"Unfortunately." He mumbles, "Gonna try and go by sooner, convince my parents I have to sort out an issue with my dorm or something."

"It's nice to have you back, though." You admit, watching as Jungkook's gaze locks on yours.

"Yeah? It is?" He questions.

You shrug, "Of course. We practically grew up together; it was weird to not see you all the time."

He sits up now, closing the magazine and tossing it on his nightstand. There's something on his mind that he isn't saying; you can tell from the way his brows knit together and how he's anxiously tugging on his lip piercing. "It was weird to be gone," he mumbles and leaves it at that.

"By the way, I'm sorry about last night." He apologizes.

"For what? Calling me your sister?"

He laughs at this, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to do that on purpose, by the way. That guy was just...so weird, I kinda blurted out the first thing that would've made him feel weird for even thinking that."

Oh. That makes sense. You definitely overreacted.

"I meant," he continues, "I'm sorry if the whole boyfriend assumption thing upset you."

"Oh," you dismissively wave a hand at him, "that was nothing."

Jungkook raises a brow at you, "Are you sure? 'Cause you seemed pretty upset afterward, you were practically running out of my car."

There's no point in lying now, considering you weren't even the slightest bit discrete the previous night.

"If I'm being completely honest, I just felt a little awkward. But that's it, I swear." You assure him, moving to lean against the bedside table.

"Awkward about what?"

God, this was so embarrassing. Is he really going to make you humiliate yourself like this?

"Because I've never actually had a boyfriend before."

Jungkook looks genuinely shocked at your confession, eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he examines yours for any sign of deception. "You don't believe me?"

"I'm not sure. I only assumed you had one just based on how crazy guys were about you in high school. Not to mention you're, like, fucking gorgeous."

What?

"I'm what?" You ask, not entirely sure if you heard him correctly.

He repeats himself again, and you make him do it a few more times until he's too embarrassed to say it again. You somehow manage to get back on the topic of never having a boyfriend before when Jungkook asks you another question. "Have you ever...?"

He doesn't need to finish the sentence. You know what he's asking.

You shake your head.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business." He berates himself, and you assure him it's no big deal and that it shouldn't even be a shocker to him.

After a half hour of talking about whatever comes to mind, you wind up sitting opposite Jungkook on his bed, legs perched up underneath your body as you go back and forth, questioning one another.

"So, when are you gonna admit you had a crush on me?" His voice is barely a whisper.

"I never did." You lie.

"Really? That sucks?"

"Why?"

He shrugs, leaning his back against the headboard. "I just always thought that maybe you and I would've ended up together at some point."

You don't remember who leans in first; it doesn't matter; all that matters is after years of longing, your lips are finally intertwined with his. He must've smoked today; you can taste the nicotine on his breath. But it doesn't matter; you don't make the slightest move to pull away. Neither does he, placing his hands on the small of your back to guide you onto his lap.

Your body is moving on autopilot, limbs moving to do whatever feels right as you silently pray not to ruin the moment. Jungkook can spot your nervousness from a mile away and stop you, "We don't have to do—"

"I want to," you pant, breathless, "I've wanted this for so long."

"Do you trust me?" He asks.

"More than anything."

He kisses you again before adjusting your current position, slowly twisting yourselves until you're lying flat on your back. He moves his lips down towards your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his path as he settles between your legs.

You reach up to grab a handful of his hair, nearly jumping out of your skin as his delicate fingertips creep up your inner thigh, inching closer and closer until his ghosting over your clothed pussy. "This okay?" He mumbles.

You nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. "Cute," he replies, "you're already so wet." His fingertips stroke your clit through your damp underwear; you don't think to wonder how he managed to get to it so quickly, all thoughts leaving your brain as he makes small circles using his middle and index finger.

"Jungkook…" You moan, pleading for him to do more.

"I know." He assures you, using a single finger to pull your panties to the side, making just enough room for him to slide a finger into your aching cunt. "Am I really your first time?"

You nod again out of fear that a moan would slip from your lips if you even tried to speak. His eyes are locked on yours, studying your expression as he coaxes a finger inside you. You're embarrassed at how quickly your wetness coated his finger, but Jungkook doesn't care. He likes it, makes him feel fucking amazing knowing the effect he had on you.

"Take your shirt off." He says, and you do as told, pulling your top up and off your body and tossing it to the floor; making quick work of undoing your bra before he even has the chance to ask.

His lips are back on your neck instantly, trailing down to your collarbone until he reaches the curve on your breast. He halts his actions momentarily before your pitched nipple is caught between his teeth and your back arching off the bed from how overstimulating everything feels.

You curse under your breath, and Jungkook makes another comment about how cute you are, though you feel far from it. He apologizes by lapping his tongue around your nipple, easing the pain slowly as he inserts a second finger into your cunt.

You can feel his bulge against your thigh, though he doesn't even care about getting himself off. He moves over to your nipple, licking and sucking until it's completely hardened, leaving himself breathless. The two fingers that had been working your cunt had picked up the pace now, and there was an unfamiliar feeling in your gut that you couldn't identify.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…" You groan, legs trembling.

Jungkook is all too familiar with these actions and asks, "You're already close? I've barely done anything to you." He teases, chuckling to himself.

You know he's being lighthearted, but you can't help but feel embarrassed at the tears forming in your eyes from how good everything feels.

Suddenly, he's pulling his fingers out of you, and now you feel like crying for a different reason. You go to protest but stop to watch as he takes his shirt off. If you weren't sure then, it's obvious now he'd started attending the gym.

He makes quick work of tugging his sweatpants down his legs, tossing them into the abyss before reaching into his bedside table and retrieving a condom. "You're okay?"

You nod.

"Use your words."

“I’m okay, Jungkook.”

"You're still okay with this?"

"Yes."

"You sure?"

Jesus fucking Christ, the saint this man is.

"I'm positive." You assure him.

You move to pull down your skirt and underwear, but Jungkook catches your wrist. "Leave them on," he says. There are so many things going on that you choose not to question.

He pulls off his boxers in the meantime, hardened cock slapping against his abdomen with precum leaking from the tip. Though you had nothing to compare it to, Jungkook was obviously slightly larger than average. You shouldn't be surprised; it's always the guys that you'd least expect.

He tears the condom wrapper with his teeth, retrieving the rubber inside before tossing the remains to his floor. Despite being fully erect, he fists his cock a few times before sliding the condom on.

He crawls over you, left arm at the side of his head, while he uses his dick to nudge your panties to the side. "This still okay?"

"I already told you—fuck!" He cuts you off, the tip of his cock slowly making its way inside you. You feel so stretched out from this alone you don't know how you'd manage to fit all of him into you.

Jungkook must be feeling the same, swearing under his breath and commenting about how tight you feel around him. Second by second, he coaxes himself into your pussy until you feel like you could split right open. "Are you all the way in?"

"No, can't take anymore?" He asks, leaning his head down against your ear.

You're embarrassed to admit he's too big to handle on your first time, but it's the truth. You don't want to overextend yourself just to please him and end up hurting yourself.

"You can move, just…not too much. Please."

Jungkook nods, "Whatever you want, angel."

He pulls his hips back and rocks himself back in, being sure to ask if you're okay with his pace. Once you confirm you feel fine and want him to keep going, he continues his movements; his eager hips snapping against yours and his cock hitting your G-spot with each deep stroke. You feel like you're on cloud nine, hands tangled in his hair as he swallows your moans.

That unfamiliar feeling from earlier returns; you feel it through your entire body this time. A moan of his name escaping your lips lets him know you're close. How he can always sense these things is beyond you; it's not worth overthinking.

"Close?" He asks, and you nod frantically.

Jungkook picks up his speed slightly, careful not to overwhelm you, but just enough to reach your climax, until finally, the bundle of nerves in your abdomen snaps, and your back is arching off the mattress as you come around his cock.

He's only a few seconds behind with his orgasm, erupting in a loud grunt when he finally reaches it. The two of you lay in silence for a moment before Jungkook finally pulls out of you and slides the condom off, tying it in a knot and tossing it into his trash bin.

"Are you okay?" He asks for what feels like the millionth time.

"I'm fine." You respond, and it isn't a lie. Physically, you feel terrific; mentally, it was an entirely different story. "Are you?"

"I'm good, I'm good."

As much as you would love to lay naked with Jungkook in his bed for the rest of the night, you know Somi will be home anytime soon. "I think I'm gonna go wash up."

He nods, crawling under his covers once you stand from his bed, tugging your skirt to its proper length as you search for your remaining clothing. "Oh, it's um…your shirt, it's over there." Jungkook awkwardly gestures towards a pile of clothing by the end of his bed.

Almost as quickly as you shred yourself of them, you snatch your clothing and bundle them up against your chest.

"Listen, I know right now isn't really ideal, but I meant what I said about liking you, and really think we should talk." He says nervously, barely even able to look at you.

You almost want to laugh at how cute he is; instead, you agree to talk to him about it soon. You're about to head out into the hallway when Jungkook reminds you about your charging phone over by his desk.

You retrieve it and scan the area again, ensuring you haven't left anything else behind. When everything seems clear, you stand upright, but your eyes fall toward the trash bin near his window with the discarded condom. You're embarrassed to even look at it until you realize something seems off. It looks…empty.

Now, you're no sex expert, but imagine that if Jungkook had finished, there'd be something to show for it in the condom. Right?

Did he fake his orgasm? Was this another one of his fucked up mind games you'd been subjected to?

You don't know what to think as you step into the bathroom; your emotions are all over the place, and all you really want to do is go home. But you promised Somi you'd be here when she returns, so you stay.

The next time a Jeon sibling asks if you're okay is twenty minutes later when Somi finally arrives and asks why your eyes are so watery.

"I'm fine." You respond, and you're lying for the first time that night.

#bts #bts imagines #bts smut #bts x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook scnenario #jungkook smut #kpop imagine #kpop smut #kpop scenario

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alidromey · 2 years

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bambiesfics · 7 months

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⊹ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭 ⊹

warning: water-sports, extreme overstimulation, graphic depictions of lesbian smut, r!receiving finger bang, sarcastic Ellie, fluff + loving at the end.

vague description: reader has a full bladder and is trapped in Ellie William’s hatchback.

author’s note: re-upload of my fic from last blog, also don’t read this in public. It gets intense.

“Pinup paradise diner…home to… ‘The World’s Bustiest Milkshake Jars?’”

You read, with your face nosed deep into the crease of the monotoned map. You deflated back into your seat, irritated at the amount of eye-strain required to make out such small font. And let the roadmap blanket the top of your thighs.

“Is that where we’re going next?”

Ellie's eyes were intently focused on the red Honda Civic in front of her, the one she’d almost rolled her windows down to spit at, less than a minute ago. Her stacked bracelets clinked as she cracked the knuckles of each one of her boney fingers.

“Is that what it says on the map?”

You flipped back to the legend, squinting at the list of diners, drive-ins, and street trucks. The corner of her plump smile quirked, hearing you mutter,

“Jesus, how do you read this thing?”

Your squint jumped between Ellie and the page, “uhhhh…yes?—yes!”

“Then that’s where we’re going next.” She crudely cracked her pinky last. The last finger with chips of black nail polish speckled on it and a snug silver braided ring that hugged it. She settled into her seat, merging onto the left lane.

“Pinup Paradise? Really? Seems like an odd choice for a drink after going to Whopping Wrap.”

You flipped the map neatly back onto your lap as your girlfriend flicked the blinker up.

“Milkshakes after chicken wraps Ellie? Really?”

“Hey—Tommy said they have the best milkshakes this side of the state. That type of man, the fucking lumberjack he is, does not fuck around when it comes to satiating that gnarly sweet tooth.”

She muttered “He probably has cavities bigger and darker than the cracks in the Grand Canyon.”

And your tiny giggle teased a smile out of Ellie, as she half-heartedly blocked the swats you struck at her with the rolled up map.

Your girlfriend got such a fucked up kick out of busting Tommy’s balls, and he knew it too.

She flicked the signal light up higher once more and cruised right into the strip mall lane that led the car through to the drive-thru, the diner growing closer each second.

In a smooth slow crawl you and your girlfriend rolled towards ‘Pinup Paradise Diner.’

A canary yellow, vintage diner, littered with paintings of 50’s pinup models that decorated all of the glass windows.

A drive-thru swinging sign read ‘The World’s Bustiest Milkshake!’ above the order window.

You were incredibly humored, noting all the double entendres and puns that weaved through the slogans graffitied across the menu board and windows.

A young crew member poked her head out of the order window, smiling tightly before asking for both of your orders. She watched on while Ellie fished for her peeling leather wallet in the back pocket, and poked her head out of the side of the hatchback window.

“Hey, can I grab a blueberry crust milkshake? And she’ll have….” Ellie trailed off, shooting you back a look with her eyebrow raised.

“…What’ll you have?”

“I’ll have a vanilla bean milkshake please. Also could I get a bottled water, if you have that?”

“Okay, so right now we only have the 1 liter sized bottled water.. would that be alright?”

“Ah, I’m sure that’s no problem, I’ll take it. Thank youuu.” you sang, and the girl mirrored your gentle smiled. You settled back into your seat and she closed the window.

“Why’d you get water?”

Ellie observed, hastily touching up her upper and bottom lashes with mascara, in the dash mirror, before she had to put her foot on the gas.

Vain. You teased in your head.

….But so pretty.

The mascara made her already long lashes, even longer. Her dark brown eyeliner was smudged, yet the grittiness was still so attractive on her. “You should wear brown eyeliner more Els. It really brings out the green in your eyes.”

She side-eyed you suspiciously.

“Thanks?…”

And you rolled your eyes. Your girlfriend loved to pretend she was allergic to compliments unless they were talking about her earth-shattering service top abilities.

Ellie grabbed both your milkshakes. And used her teeth to rip the paper cover off her straw while passing you your drink.

She put her foot on the gas and peeled out.

“You still didn’t answer the question.”

“What question?”

“The question of what possessed you to buy an entire liter of water?”

“Because like, you know the sweet aftertaste left in your mouth after you eat something really sweet? I don’t know, but it makes my mouth feel dry.”

“Ah.” she responded.

“…that’s actually real as fuck.”

“Right?” You settled deeper into your seat. Hugging the milkshake to your chest while you stalked a few instagram stories, relaxing into the rhythmic roll of your girlfriend's beat up hatchback.

Townhouses and parked SUV’s started running on either side of the car as Ellie drove on, deeper into suburbia. You pushed yourself up to gaze out the window.

“Where are we going?”

Ellie turned right into a smaller street.

“To find a place to park. I’m tired of driving.”

“Hmm, sorry baby” you hummed as you rubbed her thigh. Your eyes lit up. “Then can I drive your ca—”

“—no. When will you stop asking?”

“When you finally let me drive it? Let me behind the wheel please.”

She scoffed, eyeing you up and down. “So I can end up with my knees touching the back of my skull? Yeah no.”

“You’re not funny Ellie.”

“And you’re the only passenger princess I’ve seen whining to do her girlfriend's job. Be a lady, damn.”

You broke down laughing, clutching your chest while Ellie bit her lip down to put a lid on her own laughter.

You shimmied close to her, your breasts squishing her upper arm.

“Then can I have some of your blueberry shake?”

She circled the straw around your mouth and made you chase it.

“uh ah-uh-hah—Ellie.” You whined.

Ellie barked a laugh at how adorable you looked, and then slotted the straw onto your puckered mouth.

“Mmm…”

“You like?”

“Yeah it’s so yummy. I should’ve gotten that instead.”

Ellie attempted to take her milkshake back, but with some struggle as you leaned further and further into her seat, pressing your front body into her arms just to keep tasting it. You were practically finished your own drink, and were now drinking half of hers. And in that moment you recalled at all the previous times your girlfriend had gripped your ass and whispered how you were a greedy little princess in your ear. Ellie was an asshole through and through.

But she spoiled you, and she loved doing it.

You eased back, and Ellie stole her milkshake back. She circled her tongue around the tip of the straw before sucking it. Wrapping her pink lips around the sticky tip your rosy lip gloss had covered seconds prior.

You dropped your empty cup in the cup holder and went to chug most of your water. It provided an indescribable amount of relief from the saccharine blanket on your tastebuds. A cool feeling that settled in you, as Ellie pulled into a grassy park parking lot.

Willow trees lined up along the curb, their weeping pose provided shade to several lots, including the one above you.

Ellie killed off the engine. She tipped her head against the headrest in relief. She flexed her fingers, stretching out the kinks, feeling the breeze run past.

Her head lolled limply to face you. “Do I really look that good in brown eyeliner?”

“Yes you really do.”

Ellie’s cheek dimpled.

“I love when you tell me stuff like that.”

“Like what? That you look pretty?”

You murmured into her shoulder, looking up at her.

“Yeah, makes me feel…dunno, not like a greasy loser.”

“Please, as if I would ever let a greasy loser bag me.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Jesus, kill yourself.”

She maintained eye contact with you, green eyes jumping between your own. Reflecting the amber beauty of the sun in its sparkle. She gave you a soft smile, you gave Ellie one back. A truce to the constant teasing. And Ellie took it as an invitation to dip her head down, and pull your lips into a kiss. One she’d been yearning to do since she’d first reversed both of you out of your driveway.

Ellie chased the kiss into the back seat. She gripped the fat of your hips to inch you slowly off of the center console and towards the back. She followed, kicking her loose driver’s seat forward with the sole of her sneakers. The slide adjusting rail had seen better days, and had been owned by better people than the currently horny, blunt, ungraceful young lesbian who had an avid penchant for violence, that owned it that day.

Ellie teased her hand up from your hips to the base of your neck, to grab the back of your head as she worked her puffy lips against yours. She was hungry for your little mouth, and it was seen in the way her jaw flexed.

Ellie kissed you with a remarkably intense eroticism.

Her hands ran down over the fabric of your milkmaid top before ripping the holes away from the buttons to let your tits spill out right into her hands. Each nipple immediately kissed the waiting pads of her thumbs, as they moved to greedily massage the sensitive head. Grazing each of your puffy tender domes over and over. “Fuck, need to suck these heavy tits baby.”

Ellie’s lips made their way down your chest. She suckled some swollen red marks into the skin, before making her way lower. Coming eye to eye with your nipples.

“Can you please squeeze your boobies together?”

You took your palms and pushed them together. Ellie's whiny sigh sent heat pooling in your tummy. She leaned in, licking a greedy stripe across both nipples, tickling their head with the tip of her tongue, tonguing the flesh around both areolas. And suckling your nipples intermittently then popping off them. Leaving both of them so puffed out.

Your squeaks filled the expanse of her small car, and her aroused groans joined to match.

She shoved her fingers in the waistband of your tiny denim shorts and tugged at them. They budged, but barely, so you helped your girlfriend. You lifted your ass off the seat and slid your shorts and thong down your thighs, before Ellie slid them the rest of the way off your ankles and threw them in the front seat.

The soft breeze blew past your cunt. Exposing the warm skin to a cooler environment.

“S-should we be doing this in a park?” you squeeked.

Ellie kissed her answer on your lips “there’s” *smooch* “no one” *smooch* “here.” As she shoved her hand down to palm the fat of your vagina. Feeling your pussy fill up her fingers. Ellie curled a middle finger into your tight hole, it barely wanted to split apart to accommodate her finger. But she marveled at how hungrily it sucked her in. She pumped shallowly before adding in her ring finger.

Her chrome ring grazed the swelling mound inside your hole; your g-spot. And it pulled a pathetic mewl out of you. She curled her wrist up, ligament appearing. And pumped harder. Enjoying your shaking thighs in the air.

Your brain was melting into mush. And all you managed were barely coherent babbles.

“…feels ss-s'good” your eyes were rolled backwards.

“God bunny…” Ellie marveled, “your pretty pussy’s so greedy.”

Ellie’s teeth dug into her lip “How did I bag you?”

All you could muster were delirious squeak noises in response as you tugged on the base of her ponytail.

“Look-look down” Ellie’s fingers grasped your chin, pulling your eyes away from her flushed aroused face and towards your own shiny pussy. “L-look at how you’re swallowing my fingers.”

Ellie’s forehead knocked against yours.

“Hey…c-can you squeeze for me?”

You never disobeyed her instructions, not when you both were like this. Nodding limply, you clamped around Ellie’s fingers, a choked moan escaped you. And a deep, throaty groan escaped her. Feeling how tightly you suckled in her fingers, how badly you wanted her there, made a warm heat throb between Ellie’s legs and left her boxers sticking to her sloppy cunt. Ellie could almost cry that she couldn’t bully a cock inside you, just to feel that desperate clamp around her cock.

Her ring pushed into your plump inner walls over and over, and dragged a new delicious zing of pleasure through the ribbed inner walls. Puffy, swollen, and sloppy with slick.

Ellie had a newfound resistance in her thrusting, the clamping, warm grip of your puffed out walls were holding her fingers still. But she kept pumping, like a suction cup being stuck on and popped off.

You were assaulted with thrilling pleasure from your walls clamping, chasing the press of her jewelry. And from your girlfriends frenzied, desperate thrusting. Ellie was just as hazy brained as you.

It was a costly mistake. All of the fluttering was stimulating your pelvic muscles. Which stimulated the other tiny hole snuggled in your pussy. The familiar pressure of a full bladder pressed behind the teeny hole of your urethra. Your squeaks came out strained. You scooted into different positions on the seat, trying to ebb away the pressure.

The shifting positions only made it worse as your tummy squished from movement, and as Ellie pumped upwards.

She jack hammered her fingertips against the puffy roof of your warm cunt. Her feverish ministrations put so much pressure on your bladder. You choked out a breathy plea.

Your hands skated up your girlfriend's torso, past her exposed waist and pebbled nipples that strained against her t-shirt, and finally towards her square shoulders in an attempt to push her back.

She needed off.

“I gotta…uhn… I gotta.” you whimpered.

“What was that?” Ellie sighed.

“I-ah!” The thrust felt so good.

You were whiny “th-think I needa pee.”

“I’m fucking you so good it’s got you confusing cumming for peeing? Y’so adorable it’s insane.” Ellie kissed your lips, picking up her pace.

She took the hand she’d used to squeeze and pinch your tits and brought it down to press on your lower tummy, as she thrust up.

Oh.

“Nnnnhnhn no! ph-please ewwie.. can’t—hold it.” You babbled the same desperate plea incoherently, but with a mouth nearly paralyzed from the incessant abuse of your hole Ellie was doing, you were left whiny and gulping, babbling tiny sentences at a time.

Sweat pricked at your skin, an orgasm was fucked into your vagina, and a full bladder pressed at your urethra. You didn’t know what to do as the mounting climax forced against your urethra left you with a desperate need for release, in the car.

Ellie’s lips kissed your jaw, snuggling against your head.

“You wanna let it out, big girl? Make a big mess f’me. We can clean it all up later, I promise.”

“nuh—ah Ellie no no…aghh! ”

Your urethra let out a thin light spurtle. Settling into the space between you two as more slick gushed out of your hole. You sobbed through your orgasm, from the joint pleasure of climax combined with relief from pressure pressing against your urethra. Ellie kept fingering you through each tiny pump of liquid that squirted from your urethra and through each contraction of its sloppy wet vagina, as slick spilled out of you and ran past your bare ass, onto her leather seats. With each aggressive thrust of Ellie’s fingers—fuck in—pull out—came out spurt after spurt, from each hole. She slowed down once you fell back into the seat softly; boneless and glass-eyed. Like an abused rag doll.

You both caught your breaths, Ellie from the aggressive thump and heat in her pussy. And you from your ‘accident’.

Ellie watched as the looming embarrassment creeped every so slowly onto your face, as the orgasm slowly ebbed away. She placed shaky kisses on top of your head. Cupping the back of it in support.

Sure, maybe her car wasn’t the best time to explore that kink. Seeing as the bottom half of her shirt and her belt was wet.

But she wasn’t going to let her girlfriend curl in on herself in shame, just because of her body’s natural reaction. Especially one that Ellie practically fucked out of you.

If not for the small space of the car she might’ve pulled you into her lap, to kiss away the upset creases between your brows. But she could do nothing more than hover above your trembling body, and caress your squished tummy with her free hand, until the shaking eased.

She was breathless. “You did so good, baby.”

You shoved your face into the crook of Ellie’s neck. The sweet cologne on the collar of her shirt calmed you down, with its medley of gourmands, lavender and florals.

Your girlfriend had a way of grounding you. Everything about Ellie had the ability to. From her cold, icy fingers, to her soft, pine scented hair. To her woodsy cologne, always left on the collar of her shirts, ready to tranquilize your unrest.

“nuh-uh I—.”

“—So good. My good girl, doing exactly what I tell you too, c’mere.”

Ellie unplugged her fingers out from your hole and suckled the last bit of slick cream off, then swiped it on her shirt. She licked her lips. Using her now clean hand to cup the side of your jaw and draw you into a heated kiss that left both of you trembling.

You shifted positions in the seat from discomfort.

“You still need to pee s’more?”

“No.”

“Babe…”

“Maybe.”

Ellie reached over and opened your door, then hopped out from her side. Jogging over to shield your body.

You crouched in behind her, her and the car towered over you from both sides.

You pouted up at her, and she glowered down at you. Her arms crossed firmly as she looked away briefly to scan around the area. Before parking her gaze back down at you as the remaining stream from your bladder emptied itself.

“No more vanilla bean milkshakes.” you winced at the feeling of the breeze tickling your swollen labia.

“Of course. Yeah, that was the real culprit. Not the mega-giant 1 liter water bottle.”

You frowned.

Ellie’s arms dropped from their cross, and her black fingernails pinched the fat of your cheek and pulled teasingly.

She reassured you.

“Yeah sure, we’ll blame it on the vanilla bean milkshake.”

2K notes · View notes

gogobootz1 · 4 months

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At War

Luke Castellan x Reader [fem!daughter of Apollo]

Summary: There's nothing like some friendly competition, but when planning rival parties, you and Luke are a little less than friendly.

Word count: 2k

Every year, there came a time for the retreats- a chance for children of the gods to bond and have some special fun. One big retreat seemed pointless, so camp faculty allowed two. The two retreats accidentally split the boys and girls, and naturally, they turned into an (unofficial) competition. As one of the oldest and most experienced campers- you’d been volunteering to champion a retreat for years. Traditionally, you’ve hosted a slumber party equipped with PJs, dancing, games, movies, braid trains, nail polish, and basically anything anyone could want. You also, of course, have the best food. Each year, it’s been a hit, and it’s only gotten better with time.

The only problem is that you have tough competition. The day after the retreats, you always hear about what happened at the other one. Paintball, camping, fishing, mad romps through the wood, scary stories- barbecue. Everyone loved it. And every year, you’ve had to quietly conceal your anger and jealousy. It pains you to admit that Luke sure can throw a party (maybe even better than you can). But this year, you are more determined than ever to outdo him.

The two of you have long been in competition, and things have only escalated. As hilarious as Mr. D found both your antics last year, Chiron was extremely unhappy about the fact the two of you had exceeded the budget by miles. He’d told you both to reign it in this year or no more retreats. When he felt that didn’t sufficiently move you, he threatened to let other people plan them. You both caved and vowed to stick to the budget this year.

You’re always a little frantic the day of, and today is no different. To your chagrin, Luke is cool as a cucumber. It pisses you off to no end.

“Nervous?” A smug voice voice asks from behind your back. You drop the spoon you were using to push mashed potatoes around your plate.

You turn slowly on the bench, “Why should I be?"

“Usually, you’re pulling out your hair before the retreats,” he says skeptically, “perfectionism taking its toll.”

“Yeah? Well, my perfectionism makes my parties perfect,” you flaunt. The few sisters that can stand to be around you when you’re stressed roll their eyes. It’s clear to them this is escalating.

“What about when Susie vomited in your bouncy house last year?” He taunts, and you glare at him. That girl should not have been jumping after four bags of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos and two Redbulls- it was hardly your fault.

“How about when Aidan got a concussion after falling off the mechanical bull?” You snap back.

You don’t notice Luke’s shadow until he pipes in, “Are these people okay?”

“They signed waivers!” You say at the same time, and the new Poseidon kid takes a defensive step back. You send Luke a glare when you realize you spoke in sync. He huffs before smirking at you.

“Good luck with your sleepover,” he mocks, “You’re gonna need it.” Before you can reply, he marches away, protégée in tow.

“Eat shit!” You call out after him.

“That was weak, girl,” one of your sisters says.

“Shut up, I know,” you shake your head at her, “now come help me set up.” You drag her up by her elbow to make your sacrifices, then get to work.

Five hours later, the main hall looks great. Your disco ball is glimmering, the mini photo booth is equipped with feather boas and pink cowboy hats, the food is all laid out, and the stage you bribed some Hephaestus kids to build looks great.

“Perfect,” you whisper, pleased at your surroundings.

“Fucking finally!” Your sister throws her hands up and walks away. You’ve very likely driven most of your half-siblings insane today.

“Thanks for your help!” You call after her, and as she goes, you spot some prying eyes through the window. Percy, you think his name is, looks afraid now that you’ve caught him peering in through the window. In a few swift moves, you leave the room and block his exit from the patio.

“Can I help you?” You ask suspiciously.

“Just admiring your excellent disco theme,” he says, putting an ultra-sweet smile on his face. As charming as the boy is, you take your retreat very seriously and feel a deep-seated urge to protect it from potential sabotage.

“Mhmmm,” you nod, “and you wouldn’t happen to be reporting back to anyone about what you’ve seen?”

“Whaaaaaat?” Percy asks, awkwardly chuckling.

Your shoulders drop, of course, Luke would stoop to employing spies. You dig into your pocket and pull out a ten-dollar bill, “I’ll give you this if you act as a double agent.”

He eyes your money suspiciously, “Do you really think I can be bought?”

You roll your eyes and pull out another bill, “How’s twenty?”

“Pleasure doing business with you,” he grabs both bills from your hand and shakes it. Percy happily walks past you, shoving his new earnings into his pocket.

You grin, “Make sure he hears all about how awesome my party is!”

“I’m on it, boss,” he calls over his shoulder. After a short walk, he’s back to the boathouse lounge where Luke has been waiting for his report.

“Well?” The older boy asks him, jumping up from his spot on the couch.

Percy shakes his head solemnly, “Bad news, boss.”

“What?!” He asks, eyes wide. “Don’t tell me she went over budget. She didn't get another mariachi band, did she?” Percy shakes his head and files this new information away. With what he’s been hearing about the last few retreats, he’s almost sad to have missed them.

“No, but it does look super cool,” he nods, and it really wasn’t a lie- he saw a chocolate fountain on that snack table.

“Damn,” Luke’s face twitches in annoyance.

“But your party will be great too, I’m sure,” he smiles, nodding reassuringly.

“Of course, it will,” he says defensively, “make sure you check back in over there from time to time. I want to know how it’s progressing.”

“Sure,” Percy nods, but his concern at the competitiveness underlying this event grows. He wonders just how bad this will get tonight. But check back in he does, and he won’t deny he enjoys himself at the sleepover. Every time he visits, you give him a new sparkly mocktail, and the Aphrodite girls give him a new feather boa. At one point, he’s wearing heart-shaped sunglasses and eating some cake. He was very impressed when M&Ms fell out of the middle as you cut it. Apparently, it’s also one of your newest sisters’ birthdays- he’s heard whisperings of some big special present for her yet to come.

Each time Percy returns to the other retreat, he can see Luke get a little more tense. The fact that he’s exaggerating doesn’t help either. When he tells the older boy that you have an ice sculpture spitting Dr. Pepper, he thinks he sees steam pour from Luke’s ears. It’s not like people aren’t enjoying his party, but Percy can that Luke wants to one-up you and feels like he’s falling short.

“And I’ve heard she has a special surprise in store for Sophie since it’s her birthday. Apparently, she’s the newest addition to their cabin, so she wants to do something special,” Percy nods at him, eating a taco he had brought back from your party. Luke cuts him off by grabbing the taco from his hand just as he’s about to take another bite. “Hey!” He protests when Luke puts it right in the trash.

“When is this surprise?” He asks the twelve-year-old.

“The Aphrodite girls told me I should be back in like twenty minutes so I wouldn’t miss it,” Percy tells him.

“And when was that?”

“Like twenty minutes ago,” he shrugs, and Luke just stares at him. “Ohhhhh,” he says when he realizes how long it’s been.

“Come on,” Luke shakes his head and starts out the door, Percy in tow. They can hear the surprise before they see it, an ABBA song blasting out of the building. Only, they don’t realize who's performing it until they walk in. Along with two of your musically-inclined Apollo sisters, you’re dressed in bell bottoms and sleeves. And you look like you’re having the time of your life- until you spot them, that is.

“Look, look, look, look,” you pull the microphone away to mutter to Tanya. Her shock is visible, but you both keep performing anyway. The crowd goes wild at the end, and Sophie runs up on stage to give you a big hug. You let Tanya take over host duties and make your way through the crowd to the party crasher.

“That was,” Luke starts, but you are not keen to hear whatever he has to say about your outfit, or your performance, or your party.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

His expression instantly sours, “I wanted some Dr. Pepper from your ice sculpture, where is it?”

“What are you talking about?” You’re highly confused until Percy gives you the cut-it-out motion from behind Luke’s back. “We put it back in the freezer,” you say, and Percy gives you the thumbs up. No matter what you think of him, Luke’s not an idiot. He turns around in time to spot Percy’s gestures.

“Wait a second, are you two colluding?” He looks between the two of you in shock.

“You were colluding with him first,” you shrug, crossing your arms. “You really earned that twenty dollars, by the way,” you compliment the kid, and he gives you a pleased nod.

“Dude,” Luke turns toward Percy, betrayed.

“She outbid you,” he shrugs. “Hey, what if you guys just went to each other’s parties?”

You both eye the boy suspiciously, “Why would we do that?” You ask him, and Luke nods in agreement.

“Well, you’re both so desperate to know about the other’s party, so why don’t you just experience it for yourselves?” Percy asks, and when he feels you aren’t sufficiently moved by it, he tries again. “If you attend both parties, you can decide who wins.”

“Good enough for me,” Luke wanders off into your party.

“Yeah, okay,” you head for the door.

“Hopeless,” Percy mumbles, shaking his head.

An hour later, you and Luke meet in the middle of your respective parties. You stare at each other for a minute before you admit in sync, “I had fun.”

“We have to stop doing that,” you shake your head.

“Agreed.”

You’re both silent again for a minute. “The slip and slide was a good idea,” you say reluctantly, soap still in your hair, “low budget but lots of fun. Tubing was good too. And the campfire.” You had changed out of the disco attire and into shorts and a T-shirt over your swimsuit.

“Did you try-“

“Chris can really grill,” you nod. After some hesitance, you finally choke out a confession, “I am very displeased to call you the winner.”

“No way,” he shakes his head.

“What?”

“You totally won,” he shrugs, “the disco was killer.” You only now realize he changed into pajamas.

“You actually embraced the sleepover?”

He flicks some grass off your shoulder, “You gave my party a fair shot.” That’s true, and you nod, looking away for a second. “The chocolate fountain was a nice touch.”

“Thank you.”

“And I was trying to tell you earlier, but your performance was really cool,” he admits.

“Yeah?” A genuine grin grows on your face at this. Most everyone in the Apollo cabin loves music, but some of your half-siblings are more keen to perform than you. Hearing this, and from him especially, means a lot.

“Yeah,” he nods, smiling now too. “You’re the winner here.”

“Let’s call it a draw?” You offer, and he nods.

“What if we just worked together and planned one party next year?” He asked, and you pretend to consider it for a moment.

“That could be cool,” you nod, “imagine what we could do with the combined budget.”

He grins and scrunches his nose, “How about we enjoy this year’s party until then?”

“We could do that,” you nod, “where to?”

He swiftly wraps an arm over your shoulder and starts guiding you back to your party, “Let’s boogie.” You laugh, and he thinks it’s a sound he could get used to.

-----------------------------------------

I've been awake for too long so idk if this is coherent but I had fun <3

#luke castellan x reader #pjo fanfic #luke x reader #pjo series #luke castellan #pjo x reader #pjo tv show #charlie bushnell #luke castellan x you

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wooyoungiewritings · 6 months

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Fire and water - Seonghwa x Reader

Summary: When you walk into the mechanic, you don't expect to see Seonghwa, the most intimidating person you've ever laid your eyes on. He's the complete opposite of you. But he opens the idea of something you've never considered, and before you know it, the door he has opened for you is already locked behind you.

Word count: 6K

Genre: SMUT

Warnings: smut, fem reader (fem pronouns), reader is very innocent and hwa is very not (lol), nicknames such as kitten and princess, oral sex (f receiving), hwa smokes, semi public sexual activities, lmk if I missed anything!

This is all for fun and is not meant to represent Seonghwa in any way.

The intense smell of gasoline and oil fills your nose as you step into the unfamiliar space. Generic rock music plays from the radio and a few random posters hang on the walls. It doesn’t seem like the most professional place, but a car with an open hood in the middle of the room, assures you that you came to the right place. Your eyes scan the repair shop for someone to assist you, but the silence is enough of an answer for you.

You knew you arrived at a late hour, having spent most of your day getting lost in the books at the library, but a part of you hoped you could make it before closing time. It was a simple Google search for the nearest mechanic that had you end up here, but you didn’t think twice to see the closing hours.

Your legs guide you further into the room, careful not to touch anything you shouldn’t. This is the first time you’ve been to the mechanic with your car that you bought a few months back. It was an already used car when you bought it, but you could get it cheap and desperately needed something to help you get to school. The feeling of being in here is intimidating in itself, having little to no knowledge of cars, but a lamp in your car display has been screaming for attention for way too long, you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

“Are you lost?” The voice surprises you and you turn around to see a tall figure walking into the room.

Seonghwa.

The tall, lean, beautiful man you’ve seen in the hallways of your university. He is always wearing an oversized old-school leather jacket, messy black hair, black nail polish, and has a cigarette in hand 24/7. He and his group are known on campus for being too intimidating to talk to, but somehow every time you see them, they each have a new girl wrapped around their finger. They party when everyone else is sleeping, don't care about what people are saying about them and they will fight if they have to.

You’ve only spoken to him once when you accidentally walked in on him and a girl kissing in the library. You were searching for a specific book and made your way to the back rows of the library. As you were in your own head, you turned a corner and saw him with his tongue down her throat, her hands running through his (then) white hair. Your instant reaction was to freeze in your spot, panicking. This was the last thing you expected to see, especially at the library.

As Seonghwa removed his gaze from the girl trapped between him and the shelves, and his eyes watched you carefully, you immediately woke up.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” You quickly said, turning around. Cheeks quickly blushed, and you felt the embarrassment rush over you. Not even for them, but for you.

You heard the girl mumble something to Seonghwa, and a second later, she passed you and walked out of your sight. Heart pounding fast against your chest, you slowly turned around before your eyes landed on Seonghwa. Relaxed, he was leaning up against the shelf with his arms crossed, staring you down.

“You can take what you came for.” His low voice spoke.

Slowly you walked further down the row, trying your best not to look at Seonghwa. Focused on the note in your hand with the book name you were searching for, you scanned the rows for the book. It seemed like an easy task, but you felt Seonghwa’s eyes locked on you with every move you made, making this simple mission impossible.

Your eyes kept going over the same place again and again, slowly getting frustrated that you couldn’t get your shit together.

As you looked down on the note again, reading the same line for the 29th time, you suddenly felt something watching over your shoulder. The smell of gasoline and cigarettes surrounded you, and it was like everything froze again. Seonghwa’s presence was close to you, but he wasn’t even touching you. You slowly turned your head to the side, and Seonghwa was peeking over your shoulder, looking down at the note in your hand.

Not a word was said when he lifted his arm, grabbed a book, and handed it down to you. Your breathing stopped as you saw the book you were so desperately looking for, resting in Seonghwa’s hand. Your hands slowly reached out for the book, and you couldn’t help but look up and see his eyes watching you with no expression. You couldn’t tell what was going on behind those eyes.

“Thank you.” You whispered, not being able to get more words out.

“You’re welcome.” He answered coldly, still watching your every move.

Was he pissed at you for interrupting? Was he tired? Was he happy? Relieved? You had absolutely no idea.

So you quickly saw your opportunity to get away, sending him an awkward smile before you practically ran away.

And that was the first and only time you’ve spoken to Seonghwa. Until now.

“No, I was looking for someone to help me.” You say, knowing he’s been waiting for an answer for a little too long. “I need an oil change.”

He takes a few steps further into the room, and you notice the white towel in his hands, filled with black oil stains. He’s wearing a black tank top and jeans, also filled with black stains.

You didn’t know much about him, and you had no idea that he worked here. Looking back though, it made sense for you. He was often seen with a “dirty” outfit, with black oil stains on his clothes and skin.

“Brave of you to walk in here in an all-white outfit,” His eyes travel down your body, and you suddenly feel small. You look down at yourself in your white cardigan, white skirt, and white knee socks. Of course, you didn’t think much of it when you put your outfit together this morning. “Give me five minutes, I just need to finish this,” He walks closer to the parked car in the room, throwing the white cloth over so it rests on his shoulder.

Restless, not knowing what to do with yourself, you step closer to the wall, trying your best not to be in his way. “Careful standing too close to that, or you’ll get oil on your skirt. It stains. You can sit on the stool over there while you wait.” He points at a black stool in the corner and you quickly find your way over there so you can let him work in peace.

You take your time studying the place, not knowing if it’s normal to have a conversation at a place like this. How long will this take? Does he own this place? Should you leave him alone? You decide to focus on the rock music playing while you silently watch Seonghwa do his thing.

He’s leaning over the open hood of the car, screwing something and rubbing his hands in the white cloth after. You might not have any idea of how to repair cars, but he makes whatever he does look so easy. He knows exactly what to do and how to do it.

He closes the hood of the car and walks to the other corner of the room. You can’t see what he’s pressing, but suddenly the metal wall behind you goes up, and you look behind you to see other cars parked outside. It rolls all the way up, and Seonghwa walks to the car, gets in, and drives it out of the room and to the parking lot.

You silently watch him as he comes back and walks towards you. “Alright, can I have your keys?” He asks, reaching out his hand. You’re quick to hand him the key with a heart keyring attached, and there’s a tug on his lips as it’s placed in his hand. “Be right back.”

A moment later, he arrives in your car, parks it in the middle of the room, and walks out to close the metallic garage door again. Once it’s closed, he grabs a few things from racks on the walls and walks to your car.

“You want me to do a routine maintenance check as well? I have the time.” He asks as he opens the hood.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to.” You say as confidently as possible. Truth be told, you just want to have your car fixed so you can go home. Seonghwa doesn’t respond, he just grabs a mechanic’s dolly, lays his back on top and suddenly his upper half is under your car. A few moments pass by in silence, the only thing filling the air is the music playing and the sounds of metal crashing as he works, and he rolls back out and goes to work in the front trunk. Leaning over your car, working and changing the oil, he once again looks professional and focused, and that makes you curious.

“You work here a lot?” You ask.

“Yeah, every day pretty much.” His back is turned to you, but you see him pull out a pack of cigarettes. He places one in his mouth, flicks the lighter, and a cloud of smoke escapes. His body turns towards you, the pack of cigarettes in hand. “Want one?”

“No, thank you.” You shake your head. He continues to work on your car, cigarette dangling from his mouth. “Is that safe?”

“What?”

“Smoking. While doing that.” You point to the car. You’ve seen too many movies including fire and cars, so a quick concern washes over you, scared that a huge fire would suddenly occur.

“Smoking is never safe. You’re always playing with death when turning one on. If you’re asking if it’s safe to smoke over an open hood, then it’s inconsequential. Your car won’t blow up if that’s what's worrying you.” He glances back at you. His black hair is pushed back, but a few strands have fallen down into his face.

“If it’s not safe then why do you do it?” You can’t help but ask, curious if he really doesn’t care or if it’s just an act.

“Helps me concentrate.” He simply answers, going back to work. “What about you?”

“I don’t smoke.”

“No, do you do anything that's bad for you?” Another cloud of smoke fills the space around him, and he rubs his hands in the white cloth, leaving black stains. The black oil on his hands blends in with his black nail polish, and somehow it looks good.

Just like he was that one time in the library, he’s once again impossible to read. And his question leaves you silent for a moment, not knowing what to answer.

“Oh… Uhm, I don’t know. I don’t think so.” You shrug, and a light scoff comes from Seonghwa.

“Shocking.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Your brows come together in question.

His body turns to you, eyes going down to your outfit, hand gesturing to you. “You look like you’d be spending a week in church if you walked across a red light on the street.” There’s a small tug on his lips as he speaks. He’s entertained by you. You look like the complete opposite of him. In your white outfit, knee-high socks, and white little skirt you look like a saint next to him in his all dirty, messy black clothes. Like fire and water, you're the opposites.

“Well, I don’t.” You say.

“You don’t have to take it as a bad thing. Church girls can be full of surprises.” There's something hidden in the way he says it, and the smirk on his lips makes your cheeks blush. “I’ve seen you at school, you know. Often at the library, surrounded by academic books you probably read just for fun.”

“Well, I like the idea of knowledge. It gets you further in life.”

“It depends, doesn’t it? Don’t you think knowledge can hold you back from doing certain things too?”

“Maybe. But I also just like staying at the library. It’s fun.”

Another scoff leaves him, and you get the feeling that he’s mocking you.

“What?”

“If your idea of ‘fun’ is reading at the library, then I’d love to see you on a Saturday night.” He sends you a smirk before going back to focusing on the car. His back muscles tense as he works over the open hood, and you can’t help but stare. The black tank top really does him justice as he moves his arms around, and you shake your head, trying to focus on something else.

“What do you study?” You ask, trying to change the subject.

“Business, language and culture.”

“So you don’t wanna be a mechanic?”

“Still figuring it out.” He answers shortly. “You study what?”

"Psychology.”

"So, those biochemistry books I see you with at the library really are just for fun?" He raises an eyebrow and smirks, making you feel annoyed that he has you figured out so easily.

“As I said, I think knowledge gets you further in life.” You justify. He shakes his head in disbelief and you hear something close to a chuckle leave him. The sound is nice, especially since you’ve never heard or even seen this man smile. So this small chuckle is enough for you to continue this small banter you have going. “You don’t look like the type to go to the library.”

“I don’t think we use the library for the same reasons.” He turns around toward you again and takes a long drag of his cigarette. He leans up against your car as your eyes lock on his figure, eyes piercing on you as he blows out the smoke. “Do you know about the library’s back room, princess?” His nickname for you makes your mind blank, and you shake your head no. “Proves my point.”

“What’s the back room?” You’re curious.

He’s studying you for a moment before answering. “A place to fuck.”

Like a switch, your entire expression changes and you feel your cheeks heat up. Never have you heard of this ‘back room’ before. No, you probably (absolutely, most certainly) wouldn’t even use it if you had known about it, but it shocks you that it’s a thing.

Seonghwa’s smirk grows on his lips as he studies your face. “Your expression says it all. You’re such a good girl you couldn’t even hide it if you wanted to.”

You fall silent for a moment, not knowing what to say or how to move on from here. Until you’re reminded of the first time you spoke to Seonghwa.

“I saw you at the library once. With a girl.” You say shortly.

“Yeah, I remember. The back room was occupied so I took her down to the part of the library no one comes to. Well, except you.” The way his eyes are locked on you while talking about this is making your heart beat faster.

“Is it even allowed?”

“Would it ruin you to break the rules once in a while? Have you ever had sex in public before?”

“N-no!” Your cheeks are burning at this point.

“Don’t hate it till you try it. It's thrilling.” You’re not sure but you think you see him send you a wink as the smirk grows on his lips. A few more strands of hair have fallen down in his eyes, framing his face perfectly, before he runs his hand through his hair to push it back. It makes you fall under his trance for a moment, but you quickly flicker your eyes away, scared to fall for the beautiful brown eyes of his.

“So what, you only go to the library to sleep with someone? You don’t think there’s a better place to make love?”

“‘Make love’, how adorable.” Seonghwa is full-on smiling at this point, enjoying this conversation the more it escalates. The way your cheeks reddened, the slight shake in your voice, your flickering eyes. It’s clear to him that you’re not used to talking about these kinds of things, and he loves it.

“I don’t see what’s funny.” You say.

“You make love on your honeymoon. You fuck everywhere else.” He says, as a matter of fact.

“I don’t.” You disagree, fighting to keep your eyes on him and not back down from his piercing ones.

“No, I figured.” Another cloud of smoke leaves his lips and frames his face before continuing to fix the car, still looking back at you occasionally as you’re having this conversation. “You’re seeing anyone?”

“No.” You shake your head, wrapping your arms around yourself. His gaze on you seems so intimidating, even his presence itself. There’s a confidence, almost an arrogance to him that makes him so unnerving. But despite this, you can’t help but ask further. “Do you? Since you use the ‘back room’?”

“You only fuck-” He stops himself and holds his hands up. “Excuse me, make love, with people you date?” His questions make you fall silent for a few seconds.

You don’t know Seonghwa well, so this conversation is not exactly what you expected. This question could also open an entirely new topic of conversation that you weren’t sure would be comfortable for either of you.

The conversation about sex is not normal for you, especially since you’re not the most experienced. Despite having been in a relationship with the guy who took your virginity, it didn’t end the way you had dreamed of.

You had always romanticized the thought of losing your virginity to the person you would spend the rest of your life with, but when you found out he had cheated on you during your relationship, your world crumbled. At the time, all of your insecurities came to life, and despite knowing you had done nothing wrong in the relationship to prevent this, you couldn’t help but feel like you had done something wrong when it came to sex.

With time, you promised yourself not to let your ex have an effect on you, so you did everything you could to gain back your confidence, and you did.

You clear your throat, taking your time to find the right answer. “Well... I’ve only made love to one person and that was my ex. So yes.”

“And you only stayed in the bedroom?”

A moment of silence.

“Yes, we did. I just don’t understand why you would do it anywhere but in the bedroom. There’s literally a bed, I can’t imagine how uncomfortable everything else must be.

Seonghwa throws his head back before looking at you in disbelief. “I didn’t think you could get any more good. You must be first in line to heaven when doomsday comes.” He puts his smoke out in the ashtray on a working table next to the car. “Public sex is not about how comfortable it is. And just because it’s public, does not mean people are watching you. That’s a whole other kink.” Seonghwa is slowly making his way towards you on the stool. His large frame is closing in on you, speaking in a lower volume as he’s coming closer. “It’s the feeling of someone possibly being able to see. Having to keep quiet, being close, finding whatever excuse you have to leave and drag the other person into a random room. Comfortability is not a necessity at that point. Then you don’t care if you fuck in a bed, against a table, or the hood of a car.”

He’s standing right in front of you. You try your best to control your breathing as he looks down at you, you have to look up at him through your eyelashes. The smell of cigarettes surrounds you as he is near, but there’s also an obvious pull of something dangerous yet addicting when being close to him. You don’t know where it comes from, but you can't help but want more.

You’ve never caught yourself thinking of Seonghwa this way, but he’s awfully good at wrapping you around his finger and thinking of things you’ve never had before.

“So what, how does this ‘backroom’ work?” You suddenly ask, almost surprising yourself. What did you want with the information? You have no idea.

Seonghwa finds your questions endearing. The innocence in your voice has him smiling, letting you see his perfect teeth. You’ve never looked at him so closely, you find yourself so fascinated by him. The raw, scary persona he is, but yet his face is perfectly made like an angel. Soft and beautiful. You suddenly find yourself completely under his spell, studying his every feature.

“What, tempted to give it a try? I can show you if you’re interested.” There’s a hint of something in his voice, you can’t tell if he’s kidding, but even the thought of him taking you to the room, has you notice a certain heat between your legs.

“N-no, I’m just curious.” Your voice shakes from how close he is to you along with his words.

“Careful with that. Curiosity killed the cat, you know.” He then steps back and walks back to the car to continue working on it as if nothing happened. Seonghwa is working over the open hood, unaware of how he left you feeling inside.

Your heart is beating fast against your chest as he casually works in front of you. Like he turned on something inside of you, you suddenly notice things about him you didn’t before. How his hand curls around the wrench, how his shirt lifts when leaning over the car, exposing the skin on his waist, and how his muscles tense when he works. His jeans hang low, just below his waist, revealing even more skin and you somehow can’t help but look.

“Getting awfully quiet over there, princess. Your mind running?” Seonghwa’s head turns to you, catching you looking at him. Your eyes go to his, and you both freeze. He studies your face for a few seconds before grabbing the hood of the car and closing it. You both look at each other, a certain tension between you.

“Come here,” Seonghwa says as he leans against the car. Your body hesitates to do as he says, but you eventually cave in and get down from the stool to slowly make your way towards him.

Seonghwa throws the white cloth on the table before looking down at you. The smell of cigarettes and oil enhances again as you’re close to him, and Seonghwa taps the hood of the car with his hand. You look at the hood, suddenly unsure of everything you do, but push the thoughts away and jump up on the hood to sit. Your feet dangle, but you freeze when Seonghwa steps in front of you, resting his hands on either side of you.

“You’re thinking of something special?” His low voice asks. He’s searching for your eyes, but your heart is pounding and your eyes struggle to stay in one place. The heat between your legs is driving you insane, never having felt like this before.

“No... Maybe.”

His eyes continue to study your face. His expression is still impossible to read, yet his actions make you feel a whole new type of way.

“Look... I’d gladly take you, right here right now, if you want. We don’t even have to fuck, I can just make you cum if that’s what you want.” His bluntness throws you off, yet you didn’t expect those words to have such a big impact on you.

“Won’t someone come in? Or hear?” You worry.

“No. They won’t.” He whispers, slowly leaning forward.

You can’t tell what’s happening, even if you had a gun to your head. Seonghwa is not someone you should be spending time with. He’s the complete opposite of you, yet that draws you in like nothing else.

“Okay.” You cave in.

Not a second later, Seonghwa’s lips are on yours. Everything is happening so fast, that your brain isn’t even realizing who you’re kissing. The guy you’ve seen scare people away from their seats is having his hands on you, pulling you closer for a kiss. His tongue slips through your lips and you allow his every move.

It’s a whole new experience to kiss someone like Seonghwa. The taste, the moves, the desire. He knows what he’s doing, and the confidence shines through, even just through the kiss.

He pulls back, leaving you thirsty for more, and a small tug on Seonghwa’s lips assures you that this is actually going to happen. “First… How do you usually like it, kitten? How do you like for someone to make you cum?” He whispers.

“I’m not.. no one has ever... I mean-”

“No one has made you cum before?”

You try analyzing his question in your mind before you shake your head no.

“I thought you had a boyfriend a while back?”

“I did..”

There’s a short moment of silence where Seonghwa just reads your face and takes in what you just told him. “So let me get this straight... You only had mediocre, boring vanilla sex with this guy, he never made you cum and you still dated him?” He lifts an eyebrow, trying to understand the situation. You slowly nod, confirming his question. “Did he ever cum?”

“Every time.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding... Now that’s just selfish of him,” He removed a piece of hair from your face and leaned his face closer to your ear. You felt him slowly press his lips on the soft spot on your neck before gracing his lips over your ear. “Can I get the pleasure to be the one to make you cum, princess?”

“Y-yes.” You’re almost panting at this point, craving his touch more than you’d ever expect. Seonghwa holds your face in his hands as he presses his lips hard against yours again. The smell of cigarettes surrounds you as you get lost in him, yet you for some reason get addicted to the idea of him. Like he’s your kind of nicotine.

“I’ll try not to get oil all over you.” He assures as pulls away from you.

“That’s okay.” You tell him, suddenly not caring about the stains. This makes Seonghwa’s lips turn into a smirk, slightly amazed at the sudden change in you. His hands run up your thigh, leaving black stains from his fingerprints on your skin.

“You like the idea of my fingerprints on you? Looking in the mirror when you get home and seeing my hands on your thighs?” He goes to kiss your neck as his fingers dig into the flesh on your things. Unable to speak, you nod, wanting him to touch you even more. “Lean back for me, kitten.”

You scoop further back on the hood of your car, leaning back on your elbows to get a view of Seonghwa. His hands go to your hips to drag down your underwear till it completely leaves your body. The cold air hits your heat as Seonghwa parts your legs to lean over the hood and get a better view of your cunt.

“Gosh, you’re glistening, princess. Are you that wet already? The idea of cumming in a public space is turning you on now?”

You don’t get to react before his tongue suddenly slides between your folds, getting a long taste of you. The feeling makes you gasp, but you quickly cover your mouth with your hand, silencing yourself as much as possible.

“You taste so sweet, kitten.” He continues taking long strokes in between your folds, making sure to lick your clit as well. You look down to see his fingerprints on your thighs, turning you on even more. A moan escapes through your lips as he starts focusing on your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue on the sensitive nub. You can barely say anything as he takes his time, eating you like he craves you.

“I can’t believe someone had the chance to make you cum, and he didn’t even do it right.” Seonghwa shakes his head with a smirk before taking a few more deep licks against your pussy. “How embarrassing of him.”

“Will you... do it right, then?” You asked, looking at him with doe eyes. Seonghwa stands up further to look down at you spread out on the hood in front of him. His fingers, still stained slightly with black oil, go to your chin, and tilts your head up slightly to get a better look at him.

“Kitten, you’re gonna wish you came to me sooner when I’m done with you.” The look in his eyes almost works like a promise before he leans down to your pussy again. “Tell me how you like it, princess. Use your words.”

Once again you have to fight yourself to get actual words out when he runs his tongue between your folds again. This time, he focuses on your hole, slipping his tongue in before licking up your pussy again.

“Like that... That’s really g-good.” You manage to get out, already feeling the shocks through your body when he licks the right places.

“Fuck, you taste so good.” He spits down on your pussy before going back and to lick it again. Your legs slowly give up, but Seonghwa holds them open, allowing him full view and access. He goes back to sucking your clit, making you moan through your hand once again. “Best cunt I’ve tasted, kitten. Sweeter than anything.”

His tongue works around, he knows what he’s doing. He occasionally looks up at you, making eye contact as he runs his tongue between your folds. This makes you go absolutely crazy, seeing him go down on you like this. Eating, slurping you up. The sounds from the repair shop are out of this world, filled with your moans and him slurping all the juices from your pussy.

“Please don’t stop.” You throw your head back in pleasure, slowly feeling your orgasm approach.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He grins. His mouth goes to your clit again, sucking and rolling his tongue over it. Restless with your hand, it goes to his hair and you grab a handful. The black locks in your hand look amazing as his face is against your cunt, eating and licking you up. Your abandonment starts to send shocks through your body, Seonghwa having to lock your legs down so he can continue.

The feeling is overwhelming, you can barely hold back your moans anymore. His tongue is flat against your pussy as he flicks your clit with the tip, making sure to hit all the best spots. He works fast, barely letting you get used to one way before he moves next to the new.

“Seonghwa, I’m gonna-” You moan his name as the feeling of your orgasm quickly starts to form. Lastly, his tongue goes to your clit, sending you over the edge. Your whole body is a shaking, moaning mess as he eats you out of your orgasm. He doesn’t miss a spot as he slurps up the juices from your pussy, licking you one last time, everywhere, before separating himself from you.

You look up to see his chin glistening from your orgasm. He has a smirk on his lips as he pulls you up to sit and presses his lips against yours. Quickly, a specific taste of something mixes as you kiss, his tongue added as well.

“You taste yourself on my tongue?” He asks confidently, and you quickly realize what the taste is. You. “Amazing, don’t you think?” He smirks before giving you one last kiss before pulling slightly away. He stays between your legs as you scoop forward a bit, still on the hood but with your feet dangling now.

“Should I.. with you?” You almost whisper.

“No need, princess. Eating your pretty pussy was enough for me.” He smirks as he places his hands on each side of you. You blush again, never having someone comment on your pussy before, but you can’t help but like how it sounds coming from him. “So.. first time having someone make you cum and it being in a public space. What do you think?”

“It was.. fun.” You admit, speaking the truth. The rush of doing it here, with Seonghwa, at his place of work was not something you ever expected to happen, but it had a thrill you never felt before.

“See, that we can agree is ‘fun’. You have school tomorrow?” The change of subject throws you off for a second, having to get your mind clear after just having the biggest orgasm of your life.

“Yeah,” You reply, remembering something important, “How much do I owe you?” Your words leave him with a wrinkle between his brows.

“For eating you out?”

“N-no! For the uhh.. the car.”

He looks somewhat relieved after you clarify, “Oh... I don’t know, it’s hard to say. I know you said you didn’t want a maintenance check but I couldn’t help but notice that your serpentine belt is filled with cracks.”

You don’t even know what a serpentine belt is.

“What does that mean?” You ask.

“That means that it’ll break at some point and then you’ll risk getting stuck in the middle of the road because your car can’t drive.” He explains, and you suddenly understand the situation. You can't help but notice how quick he is to move on, talking about your car after he just had his tongue in between your folds.

You know he's not a stranger to sex, but that also intimidates you.

“Oh..”

He reads your expression for a second as you try to figure out what to do. You don’t want to be stuck in the middle of the road when driving, knowing that’s gonna be even more expensive. But it’s late, so leaving your car here would mean that you would have to order a cab or take the bus.

“I’m done here for the day. How about I give you a ride home? Then we’ll drive here together from school tomorrow, I’ll finish your car, and you’ll get to drive home in a car that doesn’t have the risk of crashing down at any moment?”

You look up at him to see his expression back to its usual unreadable one, “I mean... If that’s okay with you?” You ask.

This makes him smile. He looks down on your thighs to see the stains he left on you, before meeting your eyes again.

“Of course, kitten. I’ll just grab my stuff.”

He then disappears away and into another room, leaving you on the hood of your car. The fingerprints on your thighs are a raw indication of what has happened tonight, and you’re sure your clothes are stained with black oil as well.

When he arrives again, he’s wearing his black leather jacket. You follow him to his car outside, and he drives you home. When you arrive at your apartment, you can’t help but look in the mirror immediately. Seonghwa’s fingerprints are all over your thighs and hips, almost marking you. Your cardigan, skirt, and socks all have stains on them, and there’s a slight embarrassment in your gut when thinking of what happened tonight.

You can’t help but feel embarrassed at the thought of seeing Seonghwa in the hallways of the university, especially since he has to pick you up from school tomorrow and go back to the place where he just gave you your biggest orgasm. But even so, you’re even more tempted to walk through the door he just opened for you. The wilder side, the dangerous and unfamiliar.

It makes you blush even thinking of him, and when your phone suddenly buzzes in your hand, you’re shocked to see a certain name on your screen.

Seonghwa made you save his contact when dropping you off, saying it was for future car problems. But you didn't expect a text already, and you know the door he has opened for you, is already locked behind you.

Seonghwa See you tomorrow, kitten

Taglist: @canigotosleep--plz (comment if you wanna be added to my taglist!)

#ateez fic #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez #ateez seonghwa #ateez x reader #kpop imagines #kpop fic

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dreaming-medium · 5 months

Text

White Nail Polish

Pairing: I.N x reader

Genre: pure fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5.1K

Summary: Every Sunday when Yang Jeongin comes home to your shared apartment, there you’ll be, in your corner seat on the couch, painting your nails the same white color. But today, when he steps inside, you’re not there.

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You always painted your nails yourself.

“It’s easier!” You would tell Jeongin with a bubbly smile. “Plus, it’s so nice to take some time to pamper myself. And I get to save money.”

It was a simple tradition he’s come to look forward to.

Every Sunday, when Jeongin walked in the door to your shared apartment and the smell of acetone smacked him in the face, he would always smile.

There you would be, on your designated corner seat on the couch, in your coziest, oversized hoodie, a fresh clay face mask on your face with your hair held back by a fuzzy headband.

The same fuzzy headband he stuck in your Christmas stocking last year.

You’d only just be finishing taking the last coat off your nails by the time he got home.

Without fail, Jeongin would walk in and immediately open the window to air out the chemical smell. He would then lecture you about fumes and how dangerous it was to be inhaling them.

Then, you would giggle and ask him to sit with you. He would do so without any fuss and a happy tingle in his chest.

Both of you would talk and watch TV until it was time for bed.

Sundays were his new favorite days.

The roommate line of your relationship was quickly crossed with how you were as a person, your overly friendly nature couldn’t keep you apart for long. After living together for two years now, Jeongin would easily proclaim you as one of his best friends.

His life was always changing, nothing was ever the same; nothing except for you and your white nail polish.

So, when he opened the door and was met with only the smell of a burning candle, Jeongin frowned.

The living room was dark. The TV wasn’t on. The entire apartment was standing still.

Not even a fresh pot of coffee was sitting on the counter.

You were home, though. Your shoes were by the door and your keys were hanging on the hook.

Never once have you missed a ‘Self Care Sunday’ as you coined them.

Even when you had the flu, you made sure to paint your pretty nails.

The door shut behind him, the click of the lock was as hollow as the apartment felt.

Jeongin kicked his shoes off and made his way down the hall, tossing his bag in his room before walking across the hall to stand in front of your closed door. The soft glow of your fairy lights shined from the crack underneath the wood.

There’s soft sounds coming from inside, it sounds like you’re watching videos on your phone.

He knocks a few times, you hum for him to come in.

Jeongin pushes the door open gently, his head peeking in first before his body.

You’re a lump of blankets on top of the bed. If he looked quickly, he might not have realized that it was you underneath all the blankets and pillows.

“Y/N?” he asks quietly, stepping inside slowly.

Your eyes look at him, they seem… dull. When you see his face, you lock your phone and place it down on your bed.

Again, you only hum.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asks. Jeongin walks towards the bed and sits on the edge. “You’ve never missed a Sunday before.”

You shrug— or at least, he thinks it’s a shrug, all Jeongin’s able to see is the lump of blankets move around.

His eyebrows pull together and he purses his lip. “What’s going on?”

You look away from him. “Just… life weighing down extra today. Exams, job, finding an internship, life, everything.”

Every day you were bubbly. Not a moment went by where you didn’t have a varying degree of a smile on your face. Some people had a resting bitch face, you had a resting happy face.

The corners of your lips were perpetually upturned.

Seeing you now, like this, a sad lump of fleece, pulled at Jeongin’s heartstrings.

You reach one hand out from under the blankets and place it gently on top of his. “Sorry for being all meh,” you huff a humorless laugh through your nose. “I’ll be fine tomorrow. I think I need to be a bedbug today.”

Jeongin thinks for a moment, he looks around your room to your desk. Everything that you usually use on Sundays is there on top.

He flips his hand around and picks yours up, bringing it closer to his face. Cocking his head to the side, he peers down at your nails, making sure to exaggerate how much he’s judging the chipped polish.

“No, no,” he says, clicking his tongue. “This won’t do at all.”

“Jeongin—“

“Nope, look at this.” He holds your hand up for you to see. “How unprofessional. We have to take care of this.”

You roll your eyes. And it doesn’t slip past Jeongin’s watchful eye that your lips twitch in a smile.

“I just don’t feel like it right now,” you whine.

“That’s fine, I’ll do it.”

Jeongin pulls on your arm to yank you out of the blanket pile.

You blink a few times and allow him to sit you up on the bed. A large, stretched out t-shirt hung off your shoulder, your hair sticks up in different directions.

“What?” you ask with wide eyes.

“I’ll paint your nails, come on. Free of charge.”

Jeongin stands up from the bed and holds his hand out for you. You just blink at him over and over.

“You’re going to paint my nails?” The question ends with an incredulous laugh.

Rolling his eyes, Jeongin thrusts his hand out for you to take again. “Yes, I’m going to paint your nails, what’s so odd about that?”

“Have you ever painted your nails before?”

“No, but I watch you do it every week. How hard could it be?”

Your face scrunches up but a small twinkle returns to your eyes. It doesn’t slip past Jeongin.

Deciding that you’re taking too long, Jeongin leans down and picks you up over his shoulder.

A loud squeal comes from your throat that dissolves into giggles. His heart lights up at the sound— it always has.

Even on his worst days, hearing your laughter was like sitting in front of a fireplace during a snowstorm. When he’s sick, he swears he doesn’t need medicine, he just needs to sit near you.

He can still remember one night where he was at his wit’s end, everything that could go wrong, did. He was so overstimulated and angry at everything that he could scream and cry at the same time.

But then, your laughter pierced through the gray clouds of his mind. Your fit of giggles traveled through your door and into his room, they were so muffled but uncontrolled.

Slowly, they dissolved into cackles. Breathless wheezes and snorts that made him smile without knowing what you’re looking at.

You had one of those laughs that was so contagious, especially to him.

There was a bit of shuffling, a door opened, and then you came through his with one of the happiest smiles he’s ever seen. Tears coming down your red face from laughing so hard.

“You have to see this!” you wheezed out.

What was it? A video of a duck sitting on top of a water park geyser, when the water jet activated, the duck went flying.

It wasn’t even that funny. But hearing your angelic laughter made it hilarious.

Suddenly, his day wasn’t so bad anymore. He couldn’t even remember what he was mad about.

That’s the friendship you both have always carried on with.

A shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold, an arm to grab when you’re laughing too hard, an extra coffee to bring home, a constant reminder to refill the Brita. It gets deeper and deeper every day.

Jeongin unceremoniously plops you into your corner seat and you let out an ‘ooof!’

He points down at your face. “Stay.”

“I’m not a dog!” You laugh nonetheless while Jeongin’s lithe form disappears down the hallway again.

You look down at your nails. They desperately needed to be done. After studying for hours on end while chewing on your nails, typing on your laptop, and picking nervously at them, there’s barely any polish left.

Truly, you were just going to wait until tomorrow— but if Jeongin was offering, who were you to turn it down?

He comes back out into the living room with everything you typically used. You honestly never noticed how much he paid attention to your pampering.

Setting everything down on the table, he sits cross legged on the seat next to yours and clicks the TV on. A random Christmas movie plays in the background.

He grabs the remover and a cotton pad and goes to work. All the motions look so natural after he grabs your first hand; like he’s the one that does this every Sunday, not you.

The two of you are facing one another, knees practically touching. He’s so gentle when he works.

The chemical burning smell of acetone makes him scrunch his nose up.

“Aren’t you going to open the windows?” you tease.

He grins. “In a minute. The smell has to permeate the house first.”

“And here I thought you hated the smell.”

“I do,” he wipes off polish and goes to the next finger. “But it’s just … something that’s grown on me.”

“Acetone?”

“Yeah,” he snorts. “Strangely enough. I hate it, but I love it.”

He switches to the next hand.

The Christmas movie continues to play, it’s a classic one with Korean translated subtitles at the bottom of the screen. It’s weird hearing English come out of the TV.

Jeongin’s been trying extra hard with English since you moved in. With you being from America, it was like having a live-in tutor.

“I … need remote, please.” He asked in a slow, calculated tone.

“You need the remote,” you corrected him, holding it out of his reach.

“I need the remote.”

“Why?”

“Change channel.”

“Change the channel.”

“Oh my god.”

Your attention goes back to Jeongin. He’s wiping the last of the nail polish off your fingers.

He’s been your rock these last two years. And you’ve been his.

Neither of you really enjoy having emotional conversations or talking about your feelings, you both prefer to stay quiet about it. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need some form of support.

That’s how you two work out so well. When one needs help, the other is there with jokes or food or a movie ready to watch.

Or in this case, nail polish ready to be applied.

With a huff, he stands up from the couch and pushes open one of the windows. He fans his hand in front of his face just to be extra dramatic.

Rolling your eyes, you poke him in the side when he sits back down on the couch.

You were expecting him to put the paint on right away afterwards, so imagine your surprise when he picks up the small pair of clippers.

With a raised eyebrow, you take your hand away a little. His grip tightens and his head snaps up to look at you with a mock-offended expression.

“Nuh-uh!” you tease. “You’re gunna give me man nails!”

“I will not!” he jests back. “I will clip your nails exactly how you usually do it!”

Your eyes narrow, he mirrors it.

You jut out your bottom lip, he mirrors it.

You slowly turn your head to the side to side-eye him, he mirrors it.

“I'm trusting you, Yang Jeongin. Christmas is next week. I don’t want man hands.”

He scoffs and looks back down at your hand. “I have rough news, Y/N.”

You balk and rip your hand away from him and then usher a swift smack to his bicep.

The two of you giggle the more you smack him around playfully.

“I do not have man hands!” you yell.

He laughs with you, holding his arms up to shield himself. “Okay, okay! Fine! You have beautiful womanly hands! Enough!”

You stop smacking him. “That’s more like it.”

With that adorable smile, Jeongin reaches forward and grabs your hand once again.

“One set of ridiculously short nails coming up.”

“I’ll poison your coffee tomorrow.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me, Yang.”

He snickers once more and then starts cutting your nails in small, little snips.

Jeongin just trims them a bit— he does a perfect job if you’re being completely honest. You preferred them a little longer anyway.

When he picks the nail file up, you’re less wary.

He files your nails down a little more, rounding off the edges just how you like.

“How was rehearsal?” you ask quietly.

“Are we gossiping now? Is this what it’s like getting your nails done at a salon?”

You chuckle. “Yes, now tell me all about it.”

“It was good, I had vocal training after, so it was a long day.”

“What does your day look like tomorrow?”

“Nothing tomorrow. But Tuesday we leave for Japan until Thursday.”

You hum, watching him file your nails. “Nervous?”

“Always. It’s never gone away.”

You giggle. “I think if you weren’t nervous, you would have too big of a head.”

“Or I would be Minho.”

Then, simultaneously, you both go: “Same thing.” And then break into a fit of laughter.

He files your one pinky finger and looks down at both of your hands at once.

“How’s that shape look?”

You bring them up closer for you to look at. They all look even and perfect.

How is he doing this?

“I think you should open a salon,” you tell him, still inspecting your nails.

“Ah, yes, let me abandon my idol lifestyle to be a nail tech.”

Jeongin grabs your one hand and files a little notch off that you didn’t see.

Again, you giggle.

He puts the nail file down and picks up the bottle of white polish you use every week. He shakes it around just like you do, hitting it against the heel of his palm.

Holding his hand out, you put yours in his.

“If you couldn’t be an idol, what would you do?” you ask suddenly.

Jeongin doesn’t even pause, but you can see he’s thinking about your question as he unscrews the bottle. The excess on the brush is swiped on the neck.

“Hmm,” he weighs your question. “I don’t know, really. I love singing so much.”

Jeongin grabs your one finger and swipes the polish over your nail.

“You could be a lounge singer,” you tease. “Singing in those fancy, swanky nightclubs at the piano.”

“Would I have a tip jar on top?”

“Oh, of course. It would be overflowing from all the women who fall in love with you every night.”

His cheeks heat up from the compliment, moving from nail to nail with the first coat.

“Don’t say things like that,” he mumbles.

You snicker. “Sorry, but all the old ladies would be head over heels for you. They’d empty their wallets into your tip jar and you would smile and wink at them with those dimples.”

With your free hand, you poke at his face. Jeongin swats at your hand with a whine.

“I’ll mess up your nails on purpose!” he threatens.

Still laughing, you take your hand away from his face. He switches to the second hand. You blow on the first one.

“Okay, your turn: why white?” He asks, paying attention to his careful brush strokes.

“The color?”

He hums an ‘mhmm’.

You smile down at the color on your first hand he did, admiring the way the white looks.

“I think it’s pretty,” you tell him.

“That’s all?”

You snort. “Does there need to be another reason?”

“No, I guess not.” He moves from finger to finger.

“It makes me feel a little extra beautiful. I can’t explain it, but having my nails painted white feels so pretty.”

His own smile is warm and happy. His cheeks scrunch up and the small blush of pink that sits on them make your stomach dance.

You’ve never really needed anything else like you’ve needed his presence— nor have you craved anything similar.

Jeongin is Jeongin. He’s simple and everything you could ever ask for.

“My turn again; if you could change one decision you’ve made in the last five years, what would it be?”

Jeongin whistles and finishes the first coat on your hands. “That’s a heavy question, Y/N.”

You continue to blow on your nails. “Well, I figured we were getting deeper and deeper.”

“I asked you why you liked white nail polish!”

“And I asked you to take a deep dive into your regrets, I think these are pretty similar.”

“Is it?”

“Hell yeah.”

Jeongin grabs the first hand he was working on and takes a look at the polish. “How long does it take to dry?”

“It’s a special gel polish, so ten minutes between coats.”

“How long do you think it’s been?”

“Maybe five?”

He nods and turns to look at the TV. His eyes scan over the subtitles at the bottom to understand what’s happening.

But you don’t look at the TV, you continue to stare at him.

Jeongin’s boyish charm never seems to go away no matter what. Even after all the soft lines of his face turned into hard ones, that teasing happiness is still there.

When you became roommates two years ago it was because you desperately needed a place to stay and he just as direly needed someone to pay the other half of the rent.

A match made in Heaven.

He continued to be an idol and you continued college.

When you first moved in, Jeongin told you that if you wanted more privacy, to let him know, that he was more than content to leave communal spaces to you.

You looked him in the eye and asked, “What if I wanted to hang out with you?”

Neither of you have looked back.

You needed a friend and he needed someone who wasn’t in his group. The boys can only do so much for his sanity.

Sometimes he just needs to come home to acetone and fresh coffee.

Scrunching your nose, you look down at your first hand and poke at the first coat. When your fingerprint doesn’t show up, you hold it out to Jeongin.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

He looks back at you, then down at your hand and takes it. God, his hands are so soft.

“It’s too heavy of a question,” he whines.

“I wanna know the answer, though.”

He applies the second coat to a nail.

“I mean, I regret having to wear some of the outfits they had us in before and right after debuting.”

You laugh, it’s a cackle. Jeongin cracks a smile— it feels like a victory in his head.

“Okay, but I mean a real regret. Something you had control over.”

He stops painting your nails and thinks. His lip pulls between his teeth and his eyebrows pull together. Jeongin’s eyes flit around while his brain reels.

After a few seconds, he shakes his head and looks up at you. “I really can’t think of anything, Y/N.”

“Nothing?”

“Nope.”

“Not even me moving in?”

His eyes glisten and soften considerably when he hears you say that. The corners of his lips twitch and his heart stutters in his chest a bit.

It feels like cotton is shoved into his mouth while he looks at you. Your hair is still frizzy and everywhere, bare faced with sleepy bags under your eyes, pajamas from this morning still on.

If there was one decision that he was sure he made the best choice of in the past five years, it was you.

“No,” he says with a twinkly smile. “Not even that.”

His demeanor catches you off guard, but you don’t let it show too much.

Jeongin looks at you for a few more seconds before looking down to switch hands.

“My turn again. If you could do anything for a living, what would you do?” he questions while carefully painting.

“Oh, easy. Actress.”

Surprised, he looks back up at your face. “Really?”

“Yeah! I was doing a lot of acting back in America, just local stuff. But when it came time for college, I gave it up.” Your eyes shine sadly. “I was pretty good too, but it’s just one of those careers that have too much uncertainty.”

“Like being an idol.”

“Exactly.” You swallow thickly. “So I went for the secure route.”

Jeongin focuses down on your nails again.

You keep talking. “Besides, I get to live through you.”

His painting stutters, but he continues nonetheless. “What do you mean?”

“You come home with these fun stories of being famous, all the people you get to meet, the countries you get to see. You get to wear Alexander McQueen for God’s sake.”

He blushes, and paints the second coat on your pinky finger.

“Jeongin, your life is so cool. You get to fly to Japan on Tuesday, and you said it like it was just a regular commute. That’s … that’s amazing, you know?”

“It’s not all like that.” He inspects each nail, making sure nothing got messed up.

“I know. There’s crazy fans and all the blood, sweat, and tears.”

Jeongin rolls his eyes. “‘Crazy’ isn’t even a good enough word to describe some of them.”

You laugh.

The TV continues to play.

“But you get to do what you love,” you whisper to him through a thick voice.

Jeongin looks at you closely. There’s unshed tears welling up in your eyes. His heart sinks.

Swallowing, your eyes drop to the couch.

“I gave up on that dream a while ago.” You take a deep breath to try and calm yourself down. “So I decided to live vicariously through you and your fun stories.”

You shrug and roll your eyes to stare up at the ceiling. Your lip quivers.

With your hands still in his, Jeongin threads your fingers together and holds your hands up between you two.

He says nothing.

He doesn’t know what to say.

What can he say in this situation?

You don’t need him to say anything, though. You never have. The fact that he’s there is enough.

“Maybe that’s why we workout so well as roommates,” you say, “no one would suspect a normal girl, with a boring 9-5 would be living with idol superstar I.N from Stray Kids.” Humor was always your coping mechanism.

Letting out a deep breath towards the ceiling, you look back down at him, hands still intertwined.

“Thanks for letting me mooch off your life stories.”

Jeongin chuckles. “Anytime.” He pauses. “For the record, I don’t think your life is boring.”

You cock an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

He nods enthusiastically. “You did that research study about traffic safety last month, I thought it was really interesting.”

An unbelieving laugh leaves your chest. “You don’t need to lie.”

He squeezes your hands. “No, really! You’re studying so hard to be an analyst. You sat outside in the freezing cold for days and days and days watching the crosswalk of a busy road just to collect data.”

It’s true, you did do that. Jeongin also stopped by about once every other hour to give you a hot beverage or food.

If he noticed you were getting cold, the next trip consisted of extra jackets and blankets.

The things you do for research.

“After your findings were submitted, the city started the process to add more crosswalks to busy streets. You’re like a superhero.”

You stare at him for a second before bursting out in laughter. “What a lame superhero!”

Your cackles, like always, are contagious. He can’t fight his own giggles bubbling to the surface in his heart.

Before he knows it, Jeongin is laughing with you.

“I’m Captain Statistics! I beat the odds no matter what!”

He laughs even harder at your pun.

The two of you are giggling so much, your bodies falling forward on the couch, hunched over in a fit of laughter.

But, your hands stay intertwined.

Eventually, the laughter dies down.

Jeongin squeezes your hands once more and flips them around to look at your nails.

“I think it’s time for the top coat, Captain Statistics.”

You look at your hands and test the polish. “Yeah, you’re right.”

He switches the white bottle out for the clear coat. Repeating the shaking process and grabbing your hand.

The top coat goes on much quicker than the white polish does.

“Thank you for this, Jeongin,” you say quietly.

The smile that grows on his face reminds you of those timelapse videos of flowers growing in the Spring. It takes up the entirety of his face— and your heart.

“Of course, Y/N. Happy to do it.”

He moves to the other hand. You blow on the first one.

It’s the truth, he was happy to do it. He’d do it again if you asked him to. Jeongin would happily paint your nails every Sunday for the rest of your lives if you wanted.

Words sit in his mouth, words that he’s wanted to say for months now, words that would change the entirety of your relationship.

They’re so heavy on his tongue.

Jeongin can practically feel them tumbling out. He has to clench his jaw from keeping his confession to himself.

How much longer until he explodes? You can only shake a soda bottle too much before everything comes out the top.

God, he loves you so much.

You say it to him all the time, you say it to everyone so often.

“I love you” is said all the time by you. It’s as easy as breathing for you.

He asked you about it once, why do you say it so much? Your answer?

“People need to know when they’re loved. I will happily be that person that reminds them.”

As if he couldn’t love you more already. You’re just a light, a star, a sun.

Yes.

You’re his sun. The center of his galaxy. Everything revolves around you, he gravitates to you. He can’t help but bask in your warmth every single day.

The last of the top coat is painted delicately. They’re done.

“Finished,” he says quietly.

Your smile lights up the room.

“God, you’re the best, Jeongin,” you say, admiring his handiwork. “Thank you so much!”

He mirrors your smile and starts putting everything away. “Anytime, Y/N.”

Jeongin screws the lids tighter on the polish and acetone. A car honks outside. The TV plays on. The heat kicks on. You blow on your nails.

“I’ll miss you this week,” you tell him casually.

He looks over at you, folding his long legs up on the couch again.

“Really?”

“I always miss you, Jeongin. The apartment feels colder when you’re gone.”

He studies your face for a long stretch of time.

You’re too busy smiling at your nails to notice.

He can’t take it anymore.

“I lied to you,” he says suddenly. You look at him, slightly alarmed.

“What?” you ask.

“I lied— when I said I had no regrets, I lied.”

Your face scrunches up. “Why?”

He swallows nervously. “Close your eyes and I’ll tell you.”

You eye him curiously for a few more seconds before your eyes slide shut.

Jeongin’s heart rate picks up exponentially. It’s going to explode at this rate.

He leans forward towards your face, you’re so perfect. How are you so perfect?

He hesitates.

But, he swallows his nerves and swoops in the rest of the way, pressing his lips to yours delicately. Your body jolts, but you don’t move away from him.

It’s no more than a long peck. Electricity shoots through his body anyway.

A shock goes from his heart to his toes. He can barely feel his fingers.

You’re so magical. How do you do this?

Jeongin pulls away slowly, brushing your noses together and letting your shaky exhales mingle with one another.

He can’t open his eyes. He’s so worried that if he does, he’ll see rejection and disdain in your beautiful eyes.

You’re the first one to speak through the thick silence.

“I fail to see how that is a regret,” you whisper.

He laughs. Like always, you get him to laugh. He rests his forehead on yours.

“I regret not doing it sooner.” His long fingers come up to cup your one cheek.

You hum and lean into his touch.

Validation courses through his veins. It’s taking everything in his body not to jump for joy.

All he wants to do is stand up and scream, pump his fist in the air and claim victory.

Before he could do any of that, you lean forward and kiss him again.

Your top lip slots between his, his bottom in between both of yours.

A sigh of relief leaves his nose, his other arm wraps around your shoulders to bring you even closer. He can’t get you close enough to his body.

Closer, closer, closer.

Please, he needs you to be as close as possible.

He pulls back from the first kiss just to press another one to your lips.

Again, and again, and again— he pulls away just to swoop back in.

It’s never enough.

It’s like drinking water after you’ve been parched all day. He never knew he was crawling through a desert until now.

“Jeongin,” you giggle through his frantic kisses.

He grunts in response and continues to kiss you more. Why can’t he get enough?

He’s resigned himself to his fate. He’ll need to kiss you forever until the world ends.

“Jeongin,” you say again, still laughing.

How has he gone this long without your kisses? It’s madness.

Finally, you pull back. He dives in for another kiss, you turn your head with a brilliant smile, his lips meet your cheek.

Eh, that’ll do.

Over and over again he pecks your cheek. Laugh after laugh comes from you.

“My nails!” you finally call out. “You’re going to ruin them!”

His hand turns your face to look at him. “I’ll do them again. I’ll do them again and again, just please let me kiss you.”

Unable to take it any longer, you throw your arms around his neck and smash your lips together.

You pull him down onto the sofa with you, kiss after kiss being shared between the two of you.

How was he supposed to go to Japan now?

————————————————————————

(A/N: yes, the duck video exists. You can see it here. The first time I saw it I laughed so hard my housemate came in to check on me.)

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #yang jeongin x reader #i.n x reader #yang jeongin x y/n #i.n x y/n #i.n skz #stray kids fanfic

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buybeautyproductsonline · 1 year

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lenphor · 2 years

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roosterforme · 11 months

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The Younger Kind Part 14 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Despite his best efforts, Bradley's mind is flooded with thoughts of you. After receiving a lecture from his best friend and making Noah cry, Bradley makes the decision to reach out to you. But perhaps it's already too late.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, and age gap (18+)

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

As soon as Bradley woke to the soft sunlight filtering in through his bedroom windows, his eyes settled on your purple crown. He tilted his head and examined it with a frown. He hadn't moved it since the night you wore it while he fucked you on the couch during your anatomy lesson. And now it seemed too precious to touch.

He had been hoping to spend some time in here with you yesterday, but instead he had shut things down with you completely. He stared at the ceiling trying to convince himself he'd done the right thing by trying to protect you. But all he could think about was how he made you cry.

And then Bradley spent the entirety of Sunday wallowing around in his underwear. He meant to do something productive. He planned on taking Noah grocery shopping. But as soon as Noah woke up and walked into the kitchen, Bradley lost the energy to do anything else at all.

"Is she here?" Noah asked, holding up some coloring books and a bag of Skittles. Bradley's heart sank. You must have left those on Noah's dresser last night.

"No, bub. She's not here."

He watched Noah's face fall as he sat at the kitchen table with the coloring books. "Can I eat them?" he asked, shaking the candy.

Bradley swallowed hard. "Yeah," he croaked, tearing the bag open for his child to eat Skittles for breakfast. Maybe Meredith had a point about his lack of stability.

"Share?" Noah asked, holding out the bag, but Bradley shook his head.

"I never deserved them."

The next day, Bradley started a week of work during which he promised himself he would get into a normal routine. But it was hard to make plans that didn't involve you when all he could do was think about you.

When he got to the coffee shop, the barista made him his coffee along with yours as soon as she saw him. "Thanks," he muttered, accepting both cups and a sharpie. He scrawled peasant across both cups and forced the drinks down on his drive to work.

To make matters worse, Noah asked for you constantly, and Bradley didn't know how to tell him that his beloved babysitter wouldn't be coming around anymore because his dad lied to her. So he didn't really say anything at all. Instead he watched his son look as dejected as he felt.

Tuesday after work, Bradley picked Noah up and they both headed over to meet with Tracy, his lawyer.

Once Bradley was seated across a small conference table from her while Noah colored on copy paper, Tracy sighed and shook her head.

"Bradley. I told you months ago that you needed to work on getting a custody agreement into place with Noah's mom." She was flipping through the papers in the manila folder that Meredith had left with him.

"Yeah," Bradley grunted. "Well, am I too late?"

She didn't answer him for a long time. Rather she added notes and marked things up with a purple highlighter. He thought of your purple crown hanging from his bed. He thought of your purple Skittles and nail polish and all the purple crayons. Who the fuck used a purple highlighter anyway?

"There's no way to prove she abandoned Noah," Tracy told him firmly, and Bradley already felt defeated.

"But she did!" he growled, already feeling bad for getting snippy with his lawyer, but at least he was paying someone to deal with his shitty attitude right now.

Tracy looked him calmly in the eye. "It doesn't matter if she did, Bradley. She would have access to the same phone records you do. She would be able to show that she tried to contact you fairly regularly. Furthermore, she lives in Oceanside, so she could claim she stayed nearby in an effort to be more involved. I can almost guarantee her lawyer will to try to push this back on you."

Bradley scoffed. "Can they do that?"

"Absolutely," Tracy confirmed. "They will try, and they will probably succeed. Judges usually like to side with mothers. And Meredith will be able to play the victim in this scenario pretty easily, I would imagine. How is a mother expected to help provide for her son if the child's horrible father won't let her spend time with him? How is Meredith expected to do anything for him when you have been keeping Noah from her?"

"He's almost four!" Bradley said, gesturing toward Noah as he colored quietly. "She's just acting on this now. Doesn't that look bad?"

Tracy shook her head sadly at him and listed off so many plausible sounding excuses that Bradley's stomach churned. "She tried to work it out with you, but you snubbed her. She didn't have the monetary resources until recently. You made her feel uncomfortable. She got bad legal advice previously which set her back. She wanted to make sure she was in a good place mentally to be a parent. The list of excuses could go on and on. She and her lawyer will find one that fits her nicely."

Bradley felt sick. "I can't lose him, Tracy. And you know as well as I do that none of that is true."

She nodded, reached across the table and patted his hand, and then said, "This is why I advised you to fix this before."

Bradley took some deep breaths while she shuffled the papers in front of her. "What can I do now?"

Then Tracy was looking at him with sharp eyes. "Did you tie up your loose ends?"

Bradley was uncomfortable. He undid the top two buttons of his khaki uniform shirt and took a deep breath. "If you're asking me if I broke my own heart and Noah's by telling the first girl I've had feelings for in years that I can't see her anymore, then yes, Tracy, I tied up my loose ends."

"Bradley. You're the one who asked me to advise you. From this point on, you need to look flawless. Do you understand me? You can see her again after we complete litigation."

He ran his hands over his face, suddenly exhausted even though he'd gone to bed at eight last night. "This is all going to be very confusing for him," Bradley said, nodding toward his son who had already used up half of Tracy's stack of paper. "And I can't ask someone to wait for me when we don't even know how long this is going to take. When I don't even know why this is happening."

Tracy handed some papers to him. "Since I believe you can't win the argument that Meredith abandoned Noah, we need to look at custody options. If you don't want to ask for any child support from Meredith, and you're willing to work with her for visitation rights, I'm nearly certain you can win full custody."

Win. Bradley didn't like thinking about Noah as an object. One that could be shared, passed from one parent to the other, and awarded ownership of. But he had to in this case.

He grunted, "No. No visitation. I want her out of the picture completely. I don't want her money. I don't want anything from her. I want full, sole custody. Do you think we can settle out of court?"

"With that list of demands? Doubtful. I don't think she will settle."

-----------------------

You only left your bed on Sunday to go to the bathroom. You were sad, about Bradley and what you thought you meant to him, but you were especially distraught about how much you were going to miss Noah. And you were so upset with yourself, too. You were angry. You had grown so attached to that little boy and his father. Bradley was a walking, talking red flag, but you just couldn't seem to help yourself.

He didn't want you. He was more than willing to mess around with you, sure. But you were beginning to see that Bradley only saw you as an easy piece of ass. One that would melt when he pretended to beg. One that he could butter up with vanilla lattes. One that would let him have a quickie before work. All while going out with other women. All while planning to sort things out with Meredith.

You wondered how much of what he'd told you that night on his living room floor was actually accurate. If she really left them, why was he willing to discuss getting back together with her now? Why was Bradley going to let her have a chance to be a real mom to Noah?

Every time you thought about how you ran away from Meredith at the park, you rolled over and buried your head under your pillow. She had more rights to be around her son than you did, and you ran away from her. Mortifying. And your arm still hurt and would take weeks to heal.

Thursday was Noah's birthday. You really wanted to see him. You already had birthday presents for him. You had been planning on baking him a dinosaur cake for the past week. It was all you could think about.

You needed a distraction. That's how you ended up drunk at Greyson's place on Wednesday night. It was a stupid decision. You had class in the morning. You had interviews for jobs coming up, and you needed to get good recommendation letters from your instructors. But Greyson had cheap vodka, and he was paying attention to you.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in weeks," he said, refilling your drink with a huge pour of alcohol.

"I've been busy," you replied, laying down on his couch as his living room started to spin. "Babysitting. But not anymore."

Somehow you felt a little less sad now as the music playing from Greyson's phone made everything sound fuzzy. And when he set the drink down and climbed on top of you, there was no initial hesitation in your body as he kissed you. He didn't have a mustache, and he wasn't as big and substantial as Bradley, but his kisses felt okay. You knew him. You were used to this.

You arched your back for him to remove your shirt and your bra. He was hard and rubbing you through his jeans as he sucked on your breasts. You moaned softly. He lacked the same finesse that Bradley had, but it still felt good. You could do this.

Greyson unzipped his jeans and guided your hand inside his underwear. You opened your eyes and looked up at his handsome face as you stroked him. "Will you go down on me?" you asked before you really processed your words.

"What?" he grunted, thrusting into your palm. "How drunk are you?"

Your hand paused on his length. What the fuck were you doing? You didn't even want this. "It was just a question, Grey," you mumbled, shifting underneath him.

"Come on, babe. Guys don't like doing that."

But that wasn't true. You closed your eyes, and you could still hear Bradley desperately asking to taste you there. I want to know if you taste sweet all over, Princess. Will you let me find out?

You sat up, startled by the thought, and now the room was really spinning. Bradley liked going down on you. Maybe he was a liar and a manipulator, but he had really enjoyed that. He had made you feel so good. And he hadn't expected anything in return from you afterwards.

"Let's just fuck," Greyson said, reaching for your leggings and yanking them down your thighs. "That's what you need. I'll get a condom."

You watched him stand up and walk away. You were going to cry, you could already tell. And when he returned, you must have had tears in your eyes, because he tossed the condom onto the couch next to you and said, "I knew I shouldn't have given you that much to drink. You probably can't even give me head now."

"I just want to go home," you replied, hating the angry look on his face as he stood above you.

"Fine," he agreed, and he called you a ride. You went to his bathroom, wishing you could go to Bradley's house instead of your empty little rental. And then you cried more. Even splashing cold water on your face seemed to do nothing.

Ten minutes later, Greyson was closing his door behind you as you stumbled outside to find your Uber. The cool night air cleared your head a little bit, and when you got home, you went to your couch with a bag of Skittles.

It was midnight now. It was Noah's birthday. You sucked on a green Skittle and typed up a text to Bradley. Just this one. You'd let yourself send this one text, and then that would be it.

Will you tell Noah I hope he has a wonderful fourth birthday? And tell him I hope he keeps singing the dinosaur song. Please let me know if I can drop off his birthday presents.

You hit send after rereading the message at least ten times. Bradley probably wouldn't respond, and that was fine. You could always just leave the birthday gifts on their front porch. And then you'd never see them again.

Next thing you knew, you were waking up the next morning thirty minutes before your first class started, and you had a handful of Skittles stuck to your palm along with a raging hangover. And you had worn Greyson's hoodie home again even though you meant to leave it at his place last night.

-----------------------------

When Bradley woke up on Noah's birthday to a text from you, he sat up to read it immediately. He couldn't believe you texted him nearly seven hours ago and he was just seeing it now.

You had birthday presents for his son. Bradley cradled his face in his hand and read the message a second time. You were so sweet. So good to Noah. And Bradley had insinuated that you were everything but that when you had been here on Saturday night. Yet you still wanted to give Noah something for his birthday.

And then he let his imagination run away. He was getting hard as he pictured you in his kitchen, wearing your crown. But he couldn't let himself get off to the thought of you. He didn't even deserve that much. So he just got dressed and started getting some cereal ready for Noah.

Once again, he had no groceries, so he made himself coffee and ate a carrot for breakfast before waking up Noah.

"Happy birthday, bub! You're four now!" he said, scooping Noah up into his arms and holding him tight.

He couldn't lose this feeling. He just couldn't. His lawyer had all but assured him Meredith wouldn't be able to win full custody without visitation. So no matter what, Bradley would still get to feel this, at least on occasion. But as Noah rubbed his sleepy eyes and smiled at him, Bradley knew that he wouldn't be happy with anything except full, sole custody of his kid. He wanted to keep doing exactly what he had been doing for the past four years. "Let's have some cereal, and then I'll take you to daycare."

"Okay," he replied, wrapping his arms around Bradley's neck on the way to the kitchen.

"Aunt Nat is gonna bring you cupcakes later, and then we can have a big party on Saturday."

"Can my babysitter come to my party?"

Bradley set him down and knelt next to the chair. He brushed Noah's hair back from his face and watched him eat Cheerios. "I don't know," he muttered. "I don't think so."

Would you even want to come? Would it be a good idea? Bradley had already lied to you about so many things to get you away from the two of them. But now Noah was crying. Fat tears rolled down his rosy cheeks as his face scrunched up. Great. He made his son cry on his own birthday.

"I miss her, too," Bradley promised, wiping away each tear as it fell.

"You said she was your favorite." Noah looked at him accusingly, as if he knew Bradley had already broken your trust in him.

"She is," Bradley whispered, kissing Noah's forehead. "Eat your cereal."

Bradley stood and picked up his phone, reading your message one more time. He had been blaming Meredith for everything in his mind. But really, he was the villain here in so many ways. Just as he was about to respond to you, he got a call from his lawyer.

"Tracy. Please, give me some good news."

"Sorry it's so early. But I just got off the phone with Meredith's lawyer. She did not agree to our terms, and now we have a preliminary hearing scheduled for next week, just as long as the judge approves it for his docket."

Bradley's heart was pounding as he asked, "Is that good?" His eyes were on Noah as Tracy responded.

"I think it's very good. You asked for sole custody. You tried to offer her visitation rights, at my urging. She rejected the offer. Now we can really dig in and fight. Because we aren't going to backpedal to this offer again when I think you can get exactly what you want."

Exactly what he wanted. Bradley pictured you and Noah napping on the couch with a movie on while he stroked your soft skin. He pictured the three of you eating pizza while you dumped dressing all over your salad. He pictured you underneath him on the living room floor feeding him Skittles while you laughed. He pictured himself eventually picking out a new car for you, as long as it wasn't burgundy.

"Great. Thank you, Tracy. Just let me know when and where. I'm ready to fight."

-----------------------------

After work, Nat went ahead to his house with dinosaur balloons and some cupcakes while Bradley picked Noah up from daycare. He came out wearing a birthday crown that did not look as adorable on him as the construction paper crowns you and he made.

"Let's go eat cupcakes and have a great night with Aunt Natasha," he said, kissing Noah all over his face while he laughed.

When he carried Noah inside the house, Nat grabbed him up and said, "Happy birthday, sweetheart!" Then she turned to look back at Bradley and leaned to look past him, confused. "It's just the three of us?"

"Yeah," he confirmed, wishing she would end the conversation there. But of course, Bradley wasn't getting anything to go his way right now.

"Is she coming later? Is she still in class?"

"No."

Nat eyed him up and down. "What did you do?"

"Can we talk about this later?"

"No."

Bradley sighed and led them into the kitchen, which Nat had decorated, and Noah climbed down from her arms trying to catch a balloon on his way.

"She's not coming," Bradley told her softly as she messed with his coffee maker.

"So she's coming to the party on Saturday instead?"

"I didn't invite her."

She turned to glare at him. "You've been about an inch away from telling me you're in love with her, and now you're telling me you didn't invite her to Noah's party? Oh," she gasped. "Does this have to do with Merebitch and the custody threat?"

Bradley grunted, not loving having this conversation in front of Noah. "I broke things off. Last Saturday night."

"What?" Nat gasped, getting in his face. "Why am I just hearing about it now? You liked her. You didn't like any of the women from the app, but you liked her. You were actually happy when you came to work after you saw her. What is wrong with you?"

Bradley leaned in closer. "Meredith threatened her. Threatened me and Noah through her. And she already got her arm all banged up trying to keep Noah safe. She's better off without me." His eyes drifted toward Noah who was poking his finger into the icing on one of the cupcakes.

Nat grabbed him by his shirt and shook him. "Invite her right now. Invite her to come on Saturday. Meredith doesn't get to control everything you do just because she decided to show up and start a bunch of shit- I mean crap," she said apologetically as she winced toward Noah.

"I can't, Nat... I was... not kind to her the other night. I told her she was too young and immature for me. I called her a kid. I told her it wouldn't work between us."

Nat looked disgusted. "Fix it. And while you're at it, give her a little credit, Bradley!"

He shook his head. "Meredith already has me by the balls, Nat," he whispered harshly. "I'm not going to let that happen to her, too."

"Look at your son. Does he love his babysitter?"

Bradley narrowed his eyes and glowered at Nat. Then he looked at Noah, and his irritation melted. "Yeah. He's very attached to her." Bradley knew you were attached to Noah as well. And he himself was aching inside without you around.

"Then let him have everyone he loves at his birthday party this weekend. Or you will regret it."

---------------------------

You were in bed on Thursday night, trying to tire yourself out with a book so you could fall asleep. Greyson was texting you nonstop, trying to see if you were "feeling better" and "wanted to come over and try again". As if wanting a guy to make you feel good while hooking up was some sort of wild idea you came up with. Like asking him to go down on you was the most outlandish request he had ever heard.

Your phone vibrated again. "Oh my god, Grey. I am not in the fucking mood!" You ripped the charger out of your phone and contemplated throwing it across the room. You were so angry and hurt, and you didn't feel like this was going to get better anytime soon.

Then you saw that it was Bradley who had texted you, and you thought about taking your phone outside and running it over with your car instead. "Not interested in you, either," you muttered.

Like a dumbass, you had texted Bradley last night when you were drunk and sad that it was Noah's birthday and you wouldn't get to see them. And apparently now he was finally writing back. You wished you had the willpower to just delete his message, but that wasn't going to happen.

Bradley Bradshaw: I'm having a small party for Noah on Saturday afternoon. I'm sure he would be thrilled if you could make it. Hopefully you can.

-------------------------------

He invited Princess! Will she come? Did he only invite her for Noah? Or is he just as miserable as his child is without Princess? Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 15

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bagdaddyb · 7 months

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Self Centered

Summary: Wednesday realizes just how self-centered she has been. (reader has powers connected to nature)

Pairing: fem!Reader x Wednesday

Warning: slight angst

AN: Love the Wednesday character. Cold emotionless cutoff while also sadistic mean and cruel

"No Wednesday."

Those were the words you'd muttered to the girl before disappearing into the crowd. No. Wednesday was almost unsure how to process it. Since she'd came to this school of miscreants there hadn't been a single person not willing to bend to her will and since you'd started.... whatever it is you have with Wednesday you'd never turned away from any of her desires. So what changed? By the time Wednesday has recovered from the blatant rejection you're long gone and she's left to do nothing but return to Ophelia hall. She goes over the whole interaction again, taking note of your slumped shoulders and baggy eyes. You weren't yourself today, honestly if Wednesday truly thought about it you hadn't been yourself for some time. How long had it been since your demeanor changed? You don't smile at her anymore, you never seek her attention. When was the last time she'd spoken to you before today? She's been so caught up trying to investigate her stalker that she's completely neglected other parts of her life. Entering her shared room she's unsurprised and slightly disappointed to see Enid laying in her bed speaking with Thing.

"I just don't think this color suits your skin tone, the lighter green would go much better."

Thing taps and signs in response causing Enid to gasp.

"You take that back."

Upon hearing the door close the blonde's attention is grabbed eyes locking with black ones.

"Hey Weds, how's the investigation? Did (Y/N) agree to head into the forest with you tonight?"

"No."

The ravenette says as she neatly deposits her things on her side of the room moving towards her desk chair to start her writing hour.

"I'm not surprised."

Enid lets out in response gaze moving back to the display of nail polishes she put out for Thing to choose from. This catches Wednesday's attention, turning in her chair she burns Enid with her glare.

"Why is that?"

"Well she literally almost died during your last 'investigation' when she was stabbed and said "I'm never helping you again Wednesday Addams" while I stitched her up."

Before she continues Enid lets out a sigh muttering she's gonna kill me under her breath before continuing.

"And I'm going to tell you this because you're my best friend, (Y/N) has been unhappy for some time. You treat her more like your minion than partner. You drag her along on these dangerous stunts where she almost always gets hurt yet you never put forth any effort into the relationship, the last few things she's agreed to have been purely because thats the only way she gets to spend time with you. She is tired of it all being one sided so you need to get your act together unless you want to loose this relationship you pretend to not care about."

As Enid speaks its like a light bulb pops above Wednesday's head, recalling past encounters, conversations, and arguments she now finds herself feeling conflicted over. Standing abruptly Wednesday leaves her room, completely disregarding Enid and her writing hour. She needed to find you. It was never her intention to use you, or was it? She'd been approaching this like she would approach anything else but she now realizes that in and of itself is the problem. This isn't anything else. As much as she will deny it she cares for you in a way that is completely foreign to her. Arriving at your dorm room she knocks three times. Waiting only thirty seconds before knocking again.

"I'm coming, I'm coming."

Wednesday bites back her snarky remarks when Bianca opens your shared dorm door. The siren does nothing to hide her disgusted face in turn.

"(Y/N) isn't here. She's always in the gardens during this time. Of course you'd know that if you cared about anyone other than yourself."

That is all the ravenette gets before the door is slammed in her face, Wednesday's eyebrows furrow as she turns on her heel. Just how self centered had she been? In her eight months of knowing you and five months of courting she'd learned little to nothing about you. Besides physical attributes and your general knowledge Wednesday never made an effort to get to know you better lazer focused on the hyde investigation then later her stalker you were always kept on the back burner. For the first time in her life guilt washes over her and it makes her bristle. Her feet move quickly towards the garden, entering she doesn't even have to look following your voice carrying through the flowers. Wednesday can't help the way her lips turn in disgust as she walks, the garden was to bright countless flowers planted aimlessly with no value yet she couldn't deny the health of the garden. Every flower in bloom properly watered and glowing. Coming around a corver she sees why observing you as you sang along the the music coming from your phone. You fingers were at work using your powers to meticulously grow different flowers and plants in healthy soil. You worked diligently so immersed in it that you fail to notice the brooding aura observing you. You fill the flower box you're working on with purple lillies a beautiful contrast to the blue bachelor buttons in the box next to it. Stepping back you observe your work humming in approval before turing to head to a different part of the garden. The moment you spin you freeze eyes meeting black ones you'd never once seen in the garden before. You are truly at a loss of words at the girls presence as she'd never once seeked your company and for a moment you consider pinching yourself. Surely this must be a dream.

"Wednesday? Ummmmm.... what are you doing here?"

"I came to apologize."

Okay now you were sure you were dreaming. You look around before pinching yourself.

"I must be living in the matrix."

You say before looking around again. Not sure if this is true reality. Silence envelopes both of you as Wednesday stares realizing she's never truly had to apologize. Especially not of her own volition. She's stumped on what to say or do but you don't wait long scoffing you begin to walk past the ravenette.

"If this is your way of apologizing spare me."

Wednesday stays quiet denying herself the mean and witty response knowing it wouldn't help her situation as she starts to form words in her brain she follows you past a dead section of the garden three planters tucked away in the middle of the garden that you don't even glance at as you continue foreward. Wednesday pauses for a moment taking in the uncared for section in contrast to the overly cared for garden before moving to quickly catch up with you.

"(Y/N) I apologize for my previous actions. As surprising as it may be I have not realized the fault until now. You are more than my pawn but I have failed to treat you as such. So I hope you can forgive me."

You merely hum in response not taking your eyes off the planter you stood infront of.

"Ok Wednesday."

You dig your figures in the soil trying to decide what would look best in the array of colors before you. Wednesday can tell her words have little affect and the fact that she may of already lost you causes her stomach to unsettle. Not easily detered she sticks around watching you mend the soil before speaking up again.

"That patch back there full of dead plants, why did you walk right past it? You seem very keen on keeping everything else in the garden grown and healthy."

You jump when she speaks honestly surprised that she was still there.

"Ummmm.."

You hesitate before releasing a sigh and turning to face Wednesday.

"It was a patch of flowers I grew for you when we first began our relationship. I grew them in the beginning as a gift symbolizing the start of our bond. I was going to show them to you the first time I invited you to the garden but as your rejections grew harsher and the light of what our relationship truly was shined brighter..... I stopped caring for the flowers. Now the bushes are barren and dead yet still as symbolic as ever."

You release another sad sigh eyes dropping to the ground before turning back towards the soil.

"If you don't mind Wednesday I'd like to be alone. I'm sure you have more important matters to attend to."

More important. The words Wednesday used everytime you've invited her to the garden. Everytime you've asked to spend time together in Jericho. Everytime you've tried to have conversation about anything other than her current obsession. Everytime you tried to engage her in a subject or activity revolving around you. She'd made you feel unimportant.

"No I don't."

Wednesday pauses a moment unhappy with how unstable her voice sounded.

"While I have failed to prove it in the past you are the most important thing in my life. I...... care for you deeply and I do not wish for our relationship to be forgetten, barren, and dead. This is all new to me..... these feelings, this bond.... but I won't allow myself to be held back by my lack of knowledge. So I will sit here all night if I have to. Today, tomorrow, and the next if that is what it takes for you to forgive me."

Your vision becomes cloudy as tears form in your eyes, the once grey sky becoming dark with clouds and as the first drop falls so does your first tear. This was all you ever wanted, effort. Tears fall as your heart pounds in your chest after finally being showed you meant something to the Addams girl and if that wasn't enough the feeling of a hand wrapping around your forarm was.

"I'm sorry mon cher."

Another apology things that were unknown from Wednesday Addams coupled with physical contact something you'd never experienced from the girl.

"I forgive you."

#wednesday netflix #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednsday addams #maybe the beginning of something more #bagdaddyb

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jo-harrington · 3 months

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Standard Operating Procedures 1.05 (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: It's a normal Sunday night. You're just going over to have dinner, smoke, and listen to music. It's not a date. What could possibly go wrong?

Previous Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.04

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual pining, alcohol and drug use (wine, beer, and weed), R has a minor panic attack while high, fluff, lighthearted smut (petting/groping/dry humping), minor angst, misunderstandings and miscommunication, driving probably a little under the influence, slight anachronism (slapping the bag)

Note: Big note for this one if you've read the most recent installations of SMVerse that I've posted...this is NOT in chronological order. SM and Eddie are not together in this one, we are rewinding back before Closing Time. This chapter and the next one are both a little longer and have been lingering in my head for quite a long time. Almost a year. So without further ado, please enjoy SOP 1.05.

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

Sundays were your favorite days, hands down.

They sort of always had been, even before moving to Hawkins. Now, though, you had an extra special reason why they were your favorite.

Sundays meant that you could be yourself after you clocked out. They meant standing in the mirror and wiping away the layers of glitter eyeshadow and scented nail polish off. They meant shedding the overly sparkly jewelry from work and the trendy clothes from the JCPenney or Madigan's Juniors department that were definitely cut for a teenage body.

No matter how young you still were, you just weren't sixteen anymore.

You could finally breathe a little easier.

No more Dress to Impress, no more preppy popular girl, no more customer service voice.

Sundays meant freedom.

Lately, part of that freedom meant walking out of the store, taking the most freeing breath you could, and walking right up to your crush best friend so you could spend those last few dying hours of the weekend together.

Shooting the breeze, laughing, and getting to know one another. Getting to really see one another.

Tonight, though, there was just this cloud hanging over you as you stood in the store's bathroom after hours and shucked off the plaid vest and fashionably unmatched skirt you'd chosen for the day in favor of a t-shirt and comfy stirrup pants.

Summer was over, school was back in session, and you hadn't gotten to see Eddie as much as you normally did.

Which, in the grander scheme of things, a lot of things changed with the new school year starting: a bunch of your associate's schedules changed, a few of them even left town for college, and business started to slow a little during the week for the first time since the store opened.

Still, you missed him.

It felt weird from practically seeing him every day to only seeing him in passing or on the weekends.

What if he didn't want to be friends anymore?

Well, that was just silly. Some remnant of fear about the fickleness of your friends memories in childhood. Besides, the first shift after school started back up, he immediately came running to your store and talked your ear off about the new kids that he forced to join Hellfire.

"God, they're such losers," he reminisced with a sparkle in his eye and a smile on his lips. "They have so much potential. I can't wait for you to meet them."

Tonight though...

Tonight was like any normal night; you were getting together after the mall closed and picking up pizza.

However, instead of any of your usual haunts or shenanigans in and around Hawkins, Eddie insisted you come over to his place. Totally normal.

"And we can smoke," he added as an afterthought.

"You know I don't smoke Eddie," you reminded him. "My grandpa and his crackly lungs? I've taken him to enough doctor's appointments."

"Doesn't stop you from sucking up the air around me when I'm having a cigarette on break. No. I mean smoke. Reefer. Weed. Jesus, don't act ignorant Miss Goody Two Shoes."

"Excuse me," you choked. "How am I Miss Goody Two Shoes?"

"Because," he began with dramatic emphasis. "For all of your stories about garage beers and parties that your work friends dragged you to, you've never mentioned partaking in any sort of illicit substances. You're being obtuse on purpose or you're afraid."

You were caught like a deer in the headlights.

"I...I'm not."

And you weren't; it wasn't fear. It was just...inexperience.

Back home you were always careful, even when you hung around friends from school or work; with your overprotective father and uptight mother and two brothers who wouldn't hesitate to rat you out if they found out you broke some kind of rule? It would be over.

So you never got too wild at parties. Disheveled clothes could be straightened, and you could pretend that swollen lips were just a side effect of getting a little sick. You never drank more beer than whatever made you feel a little floaty if you weren't sleeping over at a friends. And you never smoked weed.

Ok so it was fear, in a way; residual fear. Just not the way Eddie thought.

"Hey, don't worry," Eddie said in the most understanding way he could. "You just tell me and I'll drop it, if you're afraid."

You wanted to tell him, wanted to explain it, but in a moment of reflection and wanting to assuage his worries, defiance got the better of you and you told him that you weren't afraid and it would all be fine.

You were going to be with him; you never needed to be afraid when you were with him.

Now though, staring at yourself in the mirror as you got ready to go and meet Eddie you realized you might have made a mistake.

Hanging out with your crush friend alone at his place? Fine. Sitting close on the couch as you ate pizza and listened to music? Cool. Drinking and smoking together, knowing that you got a little bit chatty when you loosened up a little bit under the influence? Uhm.

What could possibly go wrong?

---

The spread that you and Eddie had created was impressive.

Pizza and a six pack and red vines and...and...and...

Eddie was usually very thorough when it came to providing snacks or planning outings where you could get a nice little treat together. Tonight it was partially your fault.

You'd originally planned just to drive to his place after work and the pizza would be delivered, but he said that when he'd called to place the order at Lou's--large pepperoni and a box of cannoli--they told him that the delivery driver was out. Takeout only.

But then he also forgot to stop at Bradley's for soda.

So you offered to go to Bradley's while he picked up the pizza, and you might have gone overboard.

Soda and a box of wine and peanut m&m's and...and...and...

"And you say that I'm bad," Eddie scoffed as you walked in, arms laden with shopping bags.

"Excuse me, this is the once in a blue moon you let me pay for anything, I'm gonna take advantage of it."

Wayne was still home getting ready for his shift when you got there and he simply shook his head at your bickering with a fond smile, then pilfered a little of everything for his own dinner before leaving you both to it.

Once he was gone, the festivities began.

You were both overzealous, talking a mile a minute over each other about your days as you set up for the night. Eddie divvied out food--creating a plate that reminded you of the Peanuts' Thanksgiving feast, overflowing with multicolored candies and popcorn and pizza slices--as you took care of the drinks.

You were a little smug that you got to teach Eddie something during these little Sunday night not-dates for once.

"Where did you learn this?" he asked skeptically as you ripped into the cardboard box. "What even is Franzia? Sounds fancy."

"It is the least fancy thing you can get," you grinned maniacally and freed the floppy plastic bag full of pink liquid from its confines. "Honestly I should have thrown it in the fridge but it's fine. You can put it with some coke; it'd probably taste better anyway."

He made a face.

"I'll just have a beer."

"Oh my--Eddie! Live a little." You settled the bag on the coffee table and gestured to it. "You don't have to drink it...chug a beer, I don't care...but you need to slap it."

He huffed and shuffled across the carpet on his knees to settle beside you.

"Is this a Claire's thing?" he asked, he looked up at you through his bangs.

"No it's not a--well...no. It doesn't matter! My old store manager, Jen, made us do it whenever we went to parties and hung out at her place. It's fun."

"Why does this feel like a lie?"

You reached out and smacked your hand against the plastic, listened to the liquid slosh inside. He let out a long suffering sigh but gestured for you to go ahead and he settled on the floor as you squealed with glee.

Eddie popped the little tab on the spout and the cheap wine poured freely into his mouth; he maintained eye contact with you the whole time, even as he choked on the unfamiliar taste of the pink zinfandel.

When you'd hung out with Jen and your coworkers and friends, it was just...a silly thing. Now, though, it was just you and Eddie; you stood over him with the bag gently held in your hands over his mouth and his hand rested on your calf as he drank. It was tense and intimate and as you started feeling a little hot under the collar, you wondered if this was a mistake.

Regardless, when he'd had his fill, he shut the spout and raised his hand and slapped the bag so hard it soared out of your grasp and across the living room.

You both burst out laughing as it swished and sloshed with a pronounced glorp on impact with the floor, and Eddie collapsed against your legs as the giddiness got the better of him.

"Ok, that's better than a keg stand." He looked up at you and wiped a hand over his mouth. "Blagh...probably gonna need that coke if I have any more though. Your turn, sweetheart."

Then the tables were turned, but unlike Eddie, you stood toe to toe with him as he held the bag for you.

To avoid the tense eye contact, you kept yours closed as you pulled mouthful after mouthful from the bag. You almost felt a little smug; you'd always been good at this, despite how awful the wine burps were gonna get after. You knew Eddie's competitive nature--always seeing who could finish a blizzard from DQ first and giving himself a brain freeze in the process--so you were hoping to last a little longer, hit the bag a little harder, and get him to concede.

You counted down in your head and finally when you couldn't take the heartburn the wine caused any longer, you shut the spout and released it, ready for victory.

Of course, opening your eyes provided nothing of the sort.

Eddie stood there, inches away from you; his pupils were blown and he was breathing a little heavily and for a split second you thought to ask if he was ok.

Until he leaned a little closer.

Close enough where you could smell the laundry detergent and the general amalgamation of mall scents coming off of him.

Then you noticed that his eyes were locked onto…your lips?

Was he gonna kiss you?

You already thought…well…and in the van the other week? When he licked frosting off your hand? You'd thought...

Except that was the thing, you always thought, you never acted. Too stuck in your head weighing and judging the options and if you could just do something about it. If you could just lean forward a little, you could stop worrying and have your answer right?

And if it wasn't meant to be and things were weird? If he didn't actually mean to try and kiss you? You worked retail; you could bullshit with the best of them if worse came to worse.

Then you'd just pretend that your heart didn't ache from rejection for the duration of your friendship. You were already familiar with disappointment; this would be no different.

Alright, that's it, you weren't gonna chance it anymore. All the worrying you did back at the store was enough. You were just gonna kiss him. Just lean forward; just go. Just go. One, two...two and a half...

Eddie's eyelids fluttered a little bit, and your heart clenched in hope, until he leaned away and cleared his throat.

The wine bag was tossed onto the coffee table and Eddie gestured to the plates he'd prepared.

"So, pizza?"

---

Music was the next event of the night.

And the weed.

Funny how all of your anxiety over smoking flew out the window when you were anxious about something else.

Because you just couldn't get your feelings out of your head after Eddie walked away from a kiss like that.

Was it even going to be a kiss? Or was it just the awkwardness of your positions in that situation? Were you overthinking the overthinking?

On and on those thoughts spiraled.

Until Eddie said he was going to get his stereo to start your comprehensive education of metal.

"We really don't have all night Eddie," you said and threw a balled up napkin at him as he fiddled with his tapes.

"Ok, maybe not fully comprehensive," he held his hands up in surrender. "Nothing sounds better than vinyl and I have all of that at Rick's. And my mom's records. You wanna talk about classics? We've gotta spend a whole weekend there."

He put a tape into the slot and hit play and the room was immediately filled with guitar riffs and singing and shouting; he turned the volume down immediately.

"I've gotta give you the whole history sweetheart," he explained. "So you've gotta hear me too. This song's not so important...I'll turn it up when we get to the good part."

Of course, Eddie's music history lesson...started with him.

"Picture this," he said, arms waving as he walked over to his school things that had been haphazardly thrown in a corner of the room: a wilted canvas backpack, a black binder, and a dented metal lunchbox. "11-year old me, fresh after my mom's funeral and everyone she knew was coming up to us but I refused to talk. Wayne kept making excuse after excuse. But Rick, bless him, said 'gotta make him cry.'"

And on he went as he spilled the contents of the dented lunchbox on the coffee table and began the fine work of rolling a joint.

"Took me to the record store, let me pick out whatever I wanted. Of course I chose Sad Wings of Destiny because the art was cool. Little did I know that would change the course of my life forever."

You didn’t know what to focus on and that made you spiral a little bit further. The words, the music, his lips and his fingers as he followed steps that he seemed to know but didn't feel the need to elaborate on were all very appealing targets; the music and his story was what was important here though and you made the attempt.

He told his story in a way that only Eddie Munson knew how to—arms flailing, minute details, expressions and voices and everything you loved admired about him. He took a moment to swap cassettes and crank up the volume before he fell onto the couch beside you in a mess of cushions and limbs and hair.

"I would say ladies first," he began as he presented the joint to you. He then stuck it between his lips and continued talking around it. "But I'm nothing if not a gentleman and I need to teach you how to do this. It's a little different than cigarettes."

It was a comprehensive lesson and you'd gotten the hang of it quickly, but the proximity did nothing to help calm your nerves; Eddie's knee touching yours, his face and hands so close to yours as he held the joint to your lips, then one hand your shoulder as he soothed the cough that escaped you after your first hit, and finally the way he inhaled along with you as you took another.

Want burned in your lungs along with the smoke, but it didn't leave you when you finally exhaled.

You were very much looking forward to the light and mellow feeling that Eddie promised once the weed hit your system.

"Until then," he grinned and took another hit himself before dropping the smoldering stick into a nearby ashtray. "We just dive into the mind of the great Ronnie James Dio."

You rested back against the cushions and turned your head to really watch him; it was strange just...observing him. You had never done it like this before, close and quiet at this distance. Your time together was always spent with conversation and laughter, your observations and mental notes about him done in little snapshots as he moved through life like a blur.

Now you got to experience the simplicity of his presence in private and the addictive frequency that he emitted.

It was nice.

You watched the way his lashes brushed against his skin as he melted into the sofa beside you and closed his eyes. The way his plush lips pursed and then stretched as he hummed along to the music. You closed your own eyes for a second as he matched the sharpness of the lyrics with his voice, hushed and then shrill, and then hushed again.

And when you opened them back up to watch him some more, he was watching you and practically vibrating.

Your heart skipped a beat...

"Sweetheart," he reached out and touched your wrist. "You ok?"

Wait...he wasn't vibrating.

You were.

Then you noticed that your heart skipped many beats, then the beats suddenly tripled, and then it all slowed again, pounding harder and faster in your chest than you believed to be possible.

Did your chest hurt? Or were you imagining it?

It felt like the few times you ran the mile back in high school, but you hadn't run.

Had you?

Your legs felt like jelly. Your arms too.

So you must have run...but when?

No wait, you were forgetting something. Your chest, your heart, your lungs. You had to focus on them first, you needed them to live.

You tried to fix it all by taking a great gulp of air in--if you felt like you'd just run the mile, surely catching your breath would fix it--but you found that it didn't fix anything. In fact, you seemed to lose even more control of your body. You floundered, breathing heavily over and over, quicker and quicker to try and get a hold of yourself.

And the panic set in, unlike anything you'd ever experienced before in your life.

Your consciousness became untethered from your body and you sank deep within yourself. Like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. Only instead of a rabbit hole, the you that existed in your mind fell away from your eyes and deeper into your skull then out the back of it and into the so-soft cushions of the couch.

But this wasn't sinking, this wasn't melting. This was being buried alive.

You remembered Eddie’s taunting before, about being afraid of smoking. Why hadn’t you told him that you didn’t want to do this? Why hadn’t you told him you were afraid? You were a stubborn idiot and now you’d die here, buried amongst pilling fabric and lost change and lint and a few cheerios that were stuck between the cushions.

You would die here on Eddie's couch...

"Eddie!" you practically sobbed and reached out for him, remembering suddenly that he was there with you. Why wasn't he doing anything to keep you from sinking? "Help!"

"It's ok hey!" He grabbed your hands now and pulled you back from the void, hooked the tether back onto you and saved you from the depths. "It's ok, breathe. No, not like that. Slowly, deep breaths with me. In and hold it and out. Whoooooo."

You focused on the whooshing sound of the air that escaped his lips and you tried to make the same sound yourself. Over and over, slowly as he guided you.

"That's it," he smiled. "Good girl."

You slowly grounded yourself through Eddie, escaping whatever horrible clutches had just grasped at you. You began to feel better, lighter; more centered within yourself but…nicer?

Had that awful feeling been the high? Or was this?

Maybe everyone got caught by a demon when they smoked and then if they escaped they felt a nice light flutter and instead of a heavy beating heart that threatened to burst out of their chests, they felt...silly. Happy. Bubbly.

Like you did whenever you were around Eddie.

Only now it was better, and it was all getting better as he spoke to you and smiled and wiped at the few tears that had escaped your eyes.

Breathe in, breathe out. Good girl.

You kept breathing and staring at his lips.

Breathe in.

Lips.

Breathe out.

Eddie's lips.

Good girl.

You thought about earlier...minutes or hours you couldn't tell for sure...about the way Eddie leaned close to you and almost kissed you. All the worry you'd had about not being able to make a move because you were thinking so much you couldn't act. Here you were now, thinking again. When his lips were right there and you could do something about it.

With one last shaky breath, bubbly infatuation flooded your body; you smiled and said one final farewell to your nervous thoughts, and you surged forward. Your hands shook his away and grabbed at his face, as your lips slid clumsily against his.

Your noses bumped and teeth clacked painfully but it didn't quite matter because the sparks that emanated from your joined lips shot through your limbs and made you both feel tingly and pleasant. At least, you assumed they did for Eddie because he let out a sound that was somewhere in between a giggle and a moan.

But he didn't push you away; in fact, his hands clapped over yours and smushed them further into his cheeks.

He wanted you to kiss him. He wanted to kiss you. He...liked you.

It was a euphoric moment of joy and realization, but your need to put your lips on him outweighed that. So you tried again. Gentler this time.

Eddie followed your lead for a little while as you pulled him towards you; one of his hands found your waist as the other arm rounded your shoulders, and he became your anchor to prevent you from being buried by the sofa again. As thanks for his chivalry, you gifted him with soft caresses, quick pecks, and sharp little nips.

Your fingers developed a mind of their own, and seemed to love his cheekbones and getting tangled in his hair, although they couldn't quite decide which they loved more so back and forth they went.

The rest of you, though--mind and body--just basked in the kissing.

You were good at kissing; you liked kissing. And you liked kissing Eddie, more than you ever thought you would. Kissing under the light, buzzy influence of a beer or two was nice, and it might have been the weed or it could have just been Eddie himself, but this was nicer. Floaty and tingly and transcendent.

The music itself had stopped, but Eddie himself continued to provide the soundtrack to the night. Instead of guitars and vocals and pounding drums, it was a symphony of soft hums and sweet sighs.

Eddie, who often pilfered bites and nibbles off your plate and cited that he was a "growing boy," seemed to prove that his hunger was greater than yours the way he bit and nibbled at you too, appetite growing the longer you kissed. The pace you set no longer fed him the way he wanted and he started to feast a little more; that was a side-effect of being high, right? Hunger. Insatiable hunger?

His mouth pulled away from yours and started to explore your jaw, the column of your neck, the junction between your neck and shoulder. You let yourself get lost in the feeling of his attention, of his lips and hands as he gave and took, of the floaty feeling that settled comfortably in your limbs now, all the nerves of the day forgotten.

Before you knew it, your own hunger grew as well. You wanted him closer, needed more of him now that you had him.

You let yourself drift back along the pillows until you were laying comfortably and pulled Eddie along with you; one hand still lingered in his hair as the other fisted the collar of his shirt and got him right where you needed him to be.

Of course, you couldn't just take without giving as well, and as he settled onto you, your hips bucked up into him. You both moaned--savoring the proximity and delicious friction that his jeans and your leggings provided--and then giggled together as he collapsed on top of you, unprepared for the sudden surge of delight.

His breath fanned across your neck and jaw as he laughed breathlessly, and your hands caressed his head and shoulders fondly as you mirrored him.

He strained his neck a little to look you in the eye; his grin accentuated all the lines in his face, and for a second he struggled to form words. His mouth opened and closed silently and then he licked his lips to compose himself. The next thing you knew, his hand was coming up and squeezing one of your breasts with an exaggerated "honk" as he fell back against the other one and pressed his mouth to the swell over your shirt.

Back into the throes of unadulterated giggles you both went as he continued to honk and kiss and suck at exposed skin.

One of the highlights of the whole night was when he blew a raspberry against your neck; the feeling of goosebumps that erupted along your body and the spittle that sprayed across your skin would be a sensation you would remember and cherish forever.

"No fair," you whined and shifted against him again, both to protest the fact that you currently couldn't return the favor of all the attention he was giving you. Nevertheless, you treated him to the attention that you could, and you bucked your hips up again, only to be met with the feeling of him grinding down onto you.

Giggles began to mingle with desperate pants as he began to shift against you and settled into the cradle of your thighs; he grew harder and ground and rutted against the covered softness of you, faster and sharper, and your body eagerly responded, wanting to be as close to him as you could. As close as either of you could honestly fathom at this point, feeling too good like this to consider that there was more pleasure to be had if time went on and clothes came off.

Sunday nights together were truly gleeful and hedonistic, and tonight was no different. However, instead of snacks and arguments accentuated by the sounds of light-hearted talk and laughter, it was your writhing bodies and mingled breaths that took center stage; the two of you never stopped, only paused for your lips to smack wetly against one another, for your nails to rake through his hair and scratch against his scalp, and for him to grasp at your hips to pull you closer and closer as he drove you higher and higher.

"Eddie, I'm--" you broke away from him and keened, and he responded with a husky "uh-huh" and pressed his forehead against yours. Both of your eyes closed as you felt the pleasure building between the two of you, as he moaned and your toes curled...

As keys jingled in the lock of the front door of the trailer.

...and suddenly it was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over the both of you and you froze, all thought of completion forgotten.

Your eyes shot open and you stared into Eddie's panic-filled, pleasure-blown pupils. He shifted sharply and then paused, almost like a glitch, and then he was off you, across to the other side of the couch in the blink of an eye. You watched, dumbstruck, as he panted heavily to control his breathing, and he held his head in shaking hands.

"No, no," he muttered. "Shit. Shit."

You reacted quickly as the door started to squeak open--throwing your legs over the edge of the sofa to sit upright as your hands clumsily fixed your disheveled clothes--and Wayne walked in. You took the extra second as he grumbled at the threshold and fiddled with his keys to look at Eddie, hoping for some kind of...secret conspiratorial smile or...or heated gaze...just something but he refused to look at you.

Suddenly, all of the good feelings that had flooded you since the moment that Eddie had chased your panic away...they vanished. The sweet giggles and shared pleasure were gone; even the love bites you were sure Eddie had left behind stung instead of blissfully buzzed.

And in their place, an acute clarity of what the two of you had just done.

"You wouldn't believe the mess I walked into tonight," Wayne chuckled with disbelief as he finally shut the door.

No kidding Wayne, you thought bitterly.

"Some of the machines were down when I got there and it took a few hours to figure out the problem. Some rusted old part..." On and on he chattered as you spiraled, stuck in your thoughts once again.

You and Eddie, Eddie and you. You and your secret crush...had just...on his couch. You and your best friend, your only friend in town...got high and kissed and canoodled and now he refused to even look at you.

You didn't know if it was the weed again or if it was just you, but you could see stars in the corners of your eyes and you felt lightheaded as the panic settled back in. And it only got worse the longer you sat there and tried to get some kind of sign from Eddie, only to be left with nothing. Such a stark contrast from just moments ago where you were giving and taking and responding to one another so freely.

Giving and taking...was that really what it was? Or did you just...do this to him? Do this to the both of you? Effectively tank your friendship the way you'd worried about since the first time you'd hung out and Eddie had specifically said it wasn't a date?

You abruptly got to your feet and Wayne stopped his chatter and looked at you questioningly.

"I..." you felt your throat closing up with emotion. "I just forgot I have a really important call first thing tomorrow. I...need to go!"

Eddie finally looked at you with wide, shocked eyes.

Were those tears? Oh god...

"I...it was nice to see you Wayne, sorry..." you scrambled to grab your bag from where you'd tossed it by the door and then looked back at both Munsons. Back and forth at Wayne's curious expression...and Eddie's devastated one. "I'm...sorry."

And you bolted out the door, into your car, and back across town to the lonely confines of your apartment, where you would wish for a second chance at Sunday all over again.

Because until tonight, Sundays had always been your favorite days.

Next Part: Leave of Absence

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #store manager verse #Eddie munson smut #stranger things fic #stranger things Eddie munson

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