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hold-our-destiny · 3 years

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5 times tony comforted Peter and the one time Peter comforted Tony

This is for @bluesweatshirt for the friendly neighborhood exchange!

(also i’m really sorry i couldn’t add in a cut off on mobile)

________________

Peter wasn't a sad person.

He wasn't too sad when his parents didn't come home from their business trip. Yeah, he was sad when Ben died- he died in front of him for god’s sake- but he didn’t show it, he sucked it up and helped May with the new struggles with money.

Peter wasn't sad, no. He was tired though.

God, he was so tired.

It had been two weeks since homecoming night and Peter was catering between not being able to sleep at all and waking up every night from nightmares.

This night was different, though.

Because for some reason… Mr Stark was in his nightmare.

It was never anyone but peter. Always Peter stuck under rubble, falling from a plane, stuck in the fire. Never anyone else so why now would it be Mr Stark?

That wasn’t exactly the first thought on his mind when he woke up.

___________

Peter woke up with a start, breath stuck in his chest, tears already escaping his eyes.

He threw the covers off him, needing to be free from the confines, before reaching for his phone.

He’s hurt, mr stark’s hurt and he can't help him- oh god he can't save him-

“Hello?” Mr Stark’s groggy voice shook him out of his thoughts.

“Mr Stark?” Peter asked, almost scared for any reply.

“Pete? You okay?” His mentor’s voice took on a new tone. Worry mixed with… something.

“Yeah, sorry, i just- I’m sorry for waking you- I’ll hang up now-”

“Peter. Are you okay?” The question made him want to cry, made him want to curl up and let it all out with how safe it made Peter feel.

“Yeah I’m-” he took a breath, “I’m fine,”

He could tell the billionaire knew he wasn’t, “Okay, well you might as well help me anyway,”

“Help you?”

“Yeah, i've been up for hours trying to figure this problem out,” He lied.

“O-okay”

The mechanic explained the problem to him, Peter letting the words wash over him, breathing through the explanation. He pretended not to notice when Mr Stark didn't ask for his thoughts, when he reminded him to breathe every now and then, just letting his words soothe the kid from the evident panic attack he’d just gone through.

God, he was so out of his element.

Maybe this was a good thing- maybe it was good for him to comfort this kid- this kid who he barely knew. Just for tonight, only tonight.

Tony was tired. No, scratch that- he was fucking exhausted.

He was pretty much ready to drop on that wednesday, ready to curl up in his king size bed and sleep for 16 hours straight.

And yeah, maybe he forgot it was lab day.

Peter walked- more like stumbled- through the lab doors, somehow racing and also shuffling to his seat, dropping his bag with a thud and sitting in his chair in almost the same manner.

Peter’s hair was messy, curls more unruly than usual, and Tony would bet that if he could see the kid’s eyes, they wouldn’t look healthy.

“Hey kid,”

No answer.

“You okay?”

A delay, then a slight nod. Peter still hadn’t put anything in front of him, just simply sitting at the desk.

“You wanna skip lab day today?”

Peter’s head shot up, eyes wide and concerned. And yeah, Tony was right, he had dark bags under his eyes.

“What? Is something wrong? Do you need me to leave?” Tony raised a hand to stop him.

“No- no- I mean more like…” He didn’t know how he was going to say this, “I’m pretty tired right now, do you wanna just order a pizza and chill out on the couch?”

Peter looked at him suspiciously, before nodding, already getting up and heading to the other room.

Yeah, tony thought to himself, you’re doing okay

______--

Peter was passed out on the couch within 5 minutes, remote laying in his limp hand and head lolled to the side awkwardly.

Tony brought the pizza in, setting the boxes down on the coffee table and gently shook Peter awake.

“Hey, kid,” He whispered as Peter woke up, matching the tone to the dark room, “You wanna have something to eat? Or at least get into more of a comfortable position,”

Peter nodded groggily, sitting up so Tony could sit next to him, legs touching as Peter moved closer. Tony raised his arm up and around the back of the couch, resting on the teenager’s shoulders and allowing him to relax into the billionaire.

Tony put a random star wars film on the tv, letting it drift into background noise as the kid fell asleep next to him.

For years, Tony had been scared of fucking a future kid up, becoming his father and eventually pushing everyone away. Somehow, now, his fears have receded, his mind reassuring him repeatedly.

He trusts you. You’re doing okay.

Peter woke up under rubble.

No, no, this wasn’t a nightmare. The air was too thick, dust invading his airways. He choked on it as he took a breath. It was too dark, way too dark, the rocks were crushing him, piercing his skin in multiple places. He groaned with the weight, reaching for his watch instinctively.

He pressed the side button three times, letting red light illuminate his surroundings and trying to breathe with the rubble pushing down on his chest.

His watch lit up blue, and Tony’s voice started speaking through it.

“Peter? Pete- you there?”

“Y-yeah I’m here” He choked out, a waver in his voice.

“Okay, how are you feeling, kid?”

“I- The rubble- it’s crushing me- i can’t-” His breath started to speed up at the reminder, panic invading his senses.

“Kid- kid! You gotta calm down, okay? We’re getting you out now, i promise- we’re gunna get you out real soon- but you gotta calm down for us to do that, okay?”

Peter made an affirmative noise, closing his eyes and trying to even out his breaths. His memories were resurfacing much quicker than he could cope with and Tony’s voice was only helping slightly. Peter didn’t know what he was saying, letting the noises meld together in his mind as he calmed himself.

After a few minutes- or hours, he didn’t know- he’d calmed down somewhat, finally able to focus on the voice coming out of his watch.

“We’re getting you out of there now, kid. You’re doing so good for me, Pete- just keep breathing for me, okay?”

With the panic receding now, Peter was much more aware of his surroundings. He was also aware of the fact that his brain was slowing down, unable to process things as quickly as he normally could. There was a reason for that in the back of his mind but he couldn’t reach it.

There was something wet underneath him, soaking up into his clothes, he didn’t like that. He wanted to move away from it but only made it hurt worse when he tried- he cried out in pain.

“T-tony!”

There was a scuffle on the other end of the line- “Yeah, pete? You okay?- what’s happening?”

“T’ny- t- tony! T’y please- g’t me out- please- please- i- i can’t-”

“Peter- what’s happening?”

“H’rts- my- my chest- there’s- it’s-” The panic was back now, confusing him even more than before, “S’mthing- und’r- something wet- under me- t’ny please-”

“Shit- Peter- Pete- breathe, okay kid? Breathe for me. We’re gunna help you,”

Peter took a breath, then another, and another, steadying his heart before whimpering when the rubble shifted, “Kid, we’ve almost got you. I need you to stay awake, okay? We’re gonna get to you soon but you gotta stay awake so you can tell us if we move the wrong thing, okay?”

Peter made an affirmative noise again, wanting nothing more than to move away from the pain, but listening to Tony.

Tony talked again a while later, surprising Peter when he did.

“Pete? You still awake for me, bud?”

“Y-yeah im- im here,”

He heard Tony breathe out slowly, “That’s good, Pete. We’re only a few feet away from you, but the next thing we’re going to move is gunna shift some stuff, okay? Tell us if it hurts you, okay, kid?”

“Okay- I’ll tell y’u”

He waited a few seconds, hearing some movement to his side, before the rubble shifted and his legs screamed in pain. He only let out a grunt, not wanting to stop the team’s efforts, and only a moment passed before he saw his father figure knelt down beside his head, cradling it with one hand. He smiled up at him.

“T-tony-” He sobbed.

Tony nodded, “Yeah, yeah, kid, i’m here now. Sorry we couldn’t get to you sooner but I got you now, i promise. You did so good for me, bud,”

“Good?” Peter’s eyes were closing now, relishing in the relief of pain after hours of panic.

“So good, kid. I’m so proud of you for staying calm. You can sleep now, okay? Let us do the rest.”

He smiled up at his mentor again, letting his eyes close and his body relaxed as his mind gave in to the not-so-distant pull of sleep.

Tony woke up that morning to a call from midtown tech.

Of course, he was confused as to why Peter’s school would call him at midday on a random tuesday.

“Is this Tony Stark?” The caller sounded dubious- doubtful.

“Yes, it is,”

“This is Julia calling from midtown tech. Are you the emergency contact for Peter Parker?”

“One of them, yes,”

“Would you be able to pick Peter up soon?” Tony was already getting some more presentable clothes on, worried as hell.

“Yes, of course. Can I ask why?”

“To be completely honest with you, Mr Stark, I don't even know. There’s a police officer in there with him right now, and that’s all i know.”

Tony froze. A police officer could only mean two things, and Tony didn’t like either option.

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes,” And with that, he hung up.

Peter practically fell into his arms when he walked into the office. Tony instinctively went to cradle the back of his head as he processed everything that was happening. One of those things being that Peter was crying.

Peter was crying.

He wrapped his arms around the teenager more firmly as the police officer stepped toward them.

“Mr Stark, I’m officer Langford,” Tony nodded curtly towards him, waiting for an explanation.

“You may want to sit down for this,”

It took some time for Tony to maneuver Peter into a more comfortable position on the couch in the corner, the kid not wanting his mentor to see his face- in fear?- but they got there in the end.

The officer sat down in a chair opposite them, “I’m sorry to tell you this but this morning May Parker was involved in a car accident, she was rushed to the hospital but unfortunately, she was pronounced dead on arrival-” Peter held him slightly tighter, “We called you here because you were Peter’s second emergency contact, and in situations like these, we need a temporary home for him. If you agree, you can take him home now, and if not we can move him to a separate-” Tony held a hand up to cut him off.

He moved the hand back down to rub across Peter’s back, meant to be a soothing gesture but somehow made him more tense.

“I’ll take him now, and i can sort out the paperwork for a… longer arrangement soon,” Officer Langford nodded before wishing them well and leaving, but Tony didn’t pay any notice, his mind too caught up in what just happened.

It wasn’t caught up in May’s death, somehow in the back of his mind, he knew, he knew that police officers didn’t just show up at a kid’s school for no reason. He wouldn’t have been called if it was anything else.

No, it wasn’t caught up with that.

It was caught up with the fact that Peter- his kid, his Peter- upon hearing Tony’s agreement to take him in- he lost all tension in his body. As if he was relieved, as if he feared Tony would leave him, as if he would abandon the kid he’s grown so close to lately.

Tony couldn’t process it.

“Hey, kiddo, can you look at me please?” Peter minutely shook his head, burrowing into Tony’s shirt even closer than before. His tears had long since stopped, now just seeking comfort from the billionaire.

“We’ve gotta be clear about some stuff, okay, bud? Just a few minutes and then we can go back to whatever this is,” Tony wasn’t good at this.

But, still, Peter pulled back from their embrace, head turned down towards his legs.

“Kid-” Tony was stuck for words, “i want you to know that you can stay with me for as long as you like, okay? If it’s just for this week, for a while or if it’s for the rest of your life, okay? I need you to understand that i’m going to stick with you through all of it, anything you need from me, I’ll get it for you,” He took a breath, “You’re not alone in this,”

Peter crumpled.

As if against his own command, his body surged forward, arms clumsily reaching for his father figure, breaths coming through as gasps, head still downturned.

But still, Tony caught him.

__________

Tony took Peter back to the tower, he set him up in his room, gave him food and sent him to bed. He figured they’d deal with talking about it tomorrow, after some good sleep and a long fucking think about how Tony feels about this kid.

That went to shit at around 4am.

Tony was up on his feet before he could process the scream, legs rushing him to the only inhabited room on his floor. Pushing the door open and hoping for the worst.

He really didn’t expect to see Peter in the corner, bed sheets crumpled around his feet, breaths barely present.

He kneeled down a few feet away, unsure about whether Peter needed him close or not. But upon seeing the kid reach out a trembling hand towards him, he surged forward, pulling the teenager into his arms.

“It’s okay, whatever it is, it’s okay, we’re safe. I’ve got you.” He repeated in hushed whispers, rocking the two of them back and forth.

It was only a few minutes later when Peter responded to him, breathing normally now, hand clutching his mentor’s shirt as he mumbled into his chest.

“Couldn’t- couldn’t save y’u- i- i can’- can’t do i’- pl’se t’ny-”

Tony hushed him.

Peter repeated the mantra for another- god, tony didn’t know how long- until tony was finally able to hush him. The billionaire carefully picked him up, walking him the few feet over to the bed and laying him down in it.

Tony hesitated by the door, before hushing his brain of all negative thoughts, turning off the light and retreating back into the teenager’s bedroom. He climbed into the bed with the kid, curling up next to him- relieved when Peter immediately turned to cling to his chest.

Slowly, he fell asleep.

To say Peter was worried about this mission was an understatement. Him and Tony were going undercover together and honestly… it was already awkward.

The thing is, Peter wouldn’t have any trouble going undercover normally but now, they were going in as father and son.

There was this guy- this villain they’d started calling the ‘poisoner’- who was targeting father and son couples, poisoning the son and leaving the father with the body until they were found. They’d tried everything to arrest the guy but… he kept getting away- going undercover was the only option- the last ditch attempt before the avengers started knocking on doors.

It was weird how Peter was more scared to act like Toy was his dad, when he could actually die if the other guy got the upper hand.

_______________

They were sat in the hotel room, waiting.

They saw the guy- the poisoner- earlier at the bar. He’d followed them all night, back to their room but… he hadn’t pushed his way in, always staying just too far away to be apprehended by Tony.

It took a few hours for there to be a knock at the door, Tony standing up and casting a quick look at Peter before going to answer it.

He opened the door to see him- the guy- the poisoner- dressed up as a waiter or something, pushing a cart in front of him.

“Can i help you?”

He smiled, “Room service, sir,” He started pushing his way past Tony.

“I’m sorry, but we didn’t order room service,”

The poisoner turned around quickly as he heard the door blow shut, quickly pulling Tony into a headlock and facing Peter, who was frozen in the shock of it all.

“Now I’m going to say this one time only,” He ignored Tony struggling in his hold, pulling out a gun from his waistband, “There’s handcuffs under the cart. You’re going to cuff yourself to the bed or I’ll blow your dad’s brains out,”

Peter moved slowly, sliding off the bed and keeping his hands visible. The man was the same height as Tony and didn’t look much bigger than him. Tony should be able to get out of his hold easily- there was a reason he couldn’t- and now he had a gun to his head.

He reached under the tablecloth, feeling the cold metal and pulling out three sets of handcuffs. He moved over to the bed again, cursing the hotel for having actual bed posts, and cuffed his left wrist to the bed, laying down on it to make himself more comfortable.

The man then pushed Tony away from him, pointing the gun at Peter this time and making fear rush through him, “Now you- cuff his other hand to the bed,”

Tony hesitated, making the man cock the gun, and Tony then quickly moved towards Peter, efficiently cuffing the teenager’s wrist, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance that didn’t do much to reassure him.

“Pull the chair away from the desk,” The poisoner commanded, “And cuff your hands behind it,”

Tony did so immediately, not risking Peter’s safety again. Only once he was situated did he start talking.

“You know you’re going to regret this,” The poisoner laughed.

“You really think so, do you? I know you’ve got this room bugged, i know the avengers are probably on their way here. But I’m here to send a message,”

“And what message is that?”

He paused, pulling the lid off the metal plate he brought in on the cart, it revealed a neat line of six vials, all full of a blue liquid.

“You need to pay for what you did,”

__________

As it turns out, the poisoner doesn't actually inject the poison.

No, that would be too merciful.

Tony’s handcuffed to the chair he’s sat in, facing the bed. The same bed of which Peter, his kid, the teenager who he’d grown to care for so much in the past year or two, was handcuffed to in an ironic parallel. Father and son. Mentor and mentee. Tony, the merchant of death, destined to lead anyone he comes into contact with to a gruesome fate.

Peter happened to be that person.

Tony remembered the first few days after the fight with the rogues, how he regretted taking Peter with him, knowing he was going to ruin the kid. The few months after had only solidified that claim, and so he’d taken the suit.

There was no way he was getting out of the situation now.

The poisoner- that son of a bitch tony was going to kill as soon as he could get out of this damn chair-

The poisoner, had strapped a mask to the teenager’s head, slowly screwing in a vial of that fucking liquid on either side.

And now he was breathing it in- the gas- the poison that Tony just sat there as he’d been strapped down.

Now, Tony thought it was bad enough when he’d had all those thoughts running through his head, memories of Peter before they’d gotten to know each other, before Tony had taken him in. He thought that had been bad enough.

But no, it was so much worse when all those thoughts suddenly screeched to a halt.

Because Peter had just turned his head, linking eyes with Tony, a desperate plea moving between them.

Because Peter was scared- he looked terrified.

There were unshed tears laying in his tear ducts, enough to easily see as you looked at the kid. His lips barely visible within the mask but from what Tony could see, they were held in a strained frown, lips being bitten.

Peter moved his head towards his mentor, linking eyes with the man. And that, right there in that moment, was when the teenager let go.

“T-tony-” A sob cut him off, choked out between his lips.

“T-tony please- i can’t- i don’t-” Tony shushed him from where he was sitting.

“Kid- Pete- I-” Tony was speechless, all known reassurances dying in his throat as soon as he’d thought of them, what were you supposed to say to a kid who was dying and you couldn’t do anything about it?

“Tony- please- dad- i can’t-” that kicked his instincts into gear.

“Kid, you need to stop talking, okay? The team’s going to get here soon, they’ll get this shit out of you and you’ll be okay, then you can tell me whatever you need to when you’re better, okay?”

Peter nodded, eyes still wide with tears but he listened to the billionaire. and somehow, that made it so much worse, the kid would follow him into fire if he asked him to, and now Tony got him into this situation.

Tony wanted nothing more than to look away from what was happening, as Peter breathed in the poison, helpless to do anything, but he couldn’t not be there for the kid. He needed his father figures comfort.

“he’s right, the teams gunna get here soon, i don’t know when but we’ll get you out of this as soon as we can, and then we can spend a week watching all of the star wars movies, and the clone wars if you want, anything you want kid”

The poisoner was sat in the corner of the room, on the other bed. He was watching them, watching Tony desperately give his kid comfort without being able to touch him.

Tony looked at him, “you’re a fucking psychopath, you know that, right? he’s 16, he’s just a kid. why don’t you kill me instead if you want me to pay so much, huh?”

The poisoner chuckled, standing up to walk over to them, “If you die, you wouldn’t feel the pain i did as my kid died in front of me, i’m going to make you watch as your kid suffocates in front of you”

He got two new vials, replacing the almost empty ones. Peter’s wheezing had gotten a lot more prominent now, trying desperately to bring in air.

Tony’s always been around death, it greets him at every corner. but every time, someone else dies instead of him, or at least, they come close to it.

He doesn’t know what he’d do if Peter dies.

______________

He’d already changed to the last set of vials now, Peter's breath was barely there.

Tony was fucking terrified, obviously.

The team was close, he was sure of it, but that had been what he’d been telling himself the whole time.

They were barely minutes out by his assumptions, but he didn’t know if Peter had minutes, vials nearly empty as the liquid in them turned to gas for the teenager to breathe in, slowly suffocating him.

He was still facing Tony, eve after this long, still trusting him to save him. Even as his body could barely pull in breaths, eyes drooping, they didnt stray from his face.

“Peter, you gotta keep your eyes open, i know it’s hard, i know- but you’ve gotta stay awake for just a few more minutes. We’re gunna help you, but you just gotta stay awake,”

Peter looked at him sadly, but his eyes stayed open and Tony counted that as a win. He started to say something but Tony shushed him quickly.

“It’s okay, kid. Don’t try to talk. We’ve been over this already, you can talk to me after the team gets here- star wars marathon and everything, remember?”

Peter’s eyebrows creased inwards, and Tony’s heart dropped. Either he just forgot about that whole part of their conversation or… or…

“You just gotta stay awake for me, okay? I believe in you kid, dont let me down,”

_______________

The door seemed to explode inwards when the team got there, Tony didn’t look up.

He didn’t look up as they arrested the poisoner, Bruce and sam moving to Peter, while two others moved to get Tony out of the seat he was in.

As soon as the handcuffs were undone, he surged forward, one hand reaching for the kid’s- which now rested on the bed after being released- and the other going to rest in his curls. Tony quickly wiped the tears off the kid’s face, staying away from his mouth as the others tried to give him as much oxygen as he needed.

Peter choked on a sob when he realised Tony was there, mouth slightly upturning even as another oxygen mask was placed over his face.

“I’m here kid. I’m so proud of you for staying awake, okay?” He looked to bruce, as the man looked away from Peter’s vitals, nodding to Tony now, “You can go to sleep now, I’m so proud of you kid, it’s okay,”

Peter’s eyes didn’t leave him, even as he fell asleep.

Tony cried as he was carried away.

__________________

Peter woke up in the medbay. That was his first sign that something bad happened.

The next sign was his mentor-father-figure-dad asleep on the side of his bed.

Peter’s eyes widened as he saw the tear tracks lining his cheeks. Tony never cried, not even when he dropped an engine on his foot that one time. If Tony was crying now, this- whatever it was that happened- it was bad bad.

“Tony?”

Tony startled awake, as if he meant to be on guard, and took one look at the kid in front of him before reaching for Peter and bringing him into his arms.

“Oh my fucking god, kid. Holy shit, you’re okay. Oh my god-”

“Tony what happened?” Was the teenager’s muffled answer, not complaining about being smothered in his da- Tony’s shirt.

“There was this- this guy we went after- had to go undercover and he got to us and he poisoned you, kid- and i couldn't- i couldn't do anything about it- i just sat there and you- you did so good-”

Peter shushed him as the memories arose in his mind, “Tony, can i talk for a second?” He received a nod in reply, “You called the team, Tony. I didn’t, you did. They got there in time and now I’m okay, aren’t I? You did everything that you could, if anything i should've done something, I’m the one with powers here. No- i know- i couldn’t have done anything but you were there the whole time telling me to stay awake and i did, Tony, because of you.”

Tony didn’t say anything, seemingly processing what the kid said. He looked up slowly, tears falling down his cheeks, leaning forward and pulling the kid into a hug again.

Slowly, Peter got tired, nearly falling asleep in Tony’s arms. So, of course, Tony moved into the bed with him, pulling the kid to rest his head against the man’s chest.

“I got you, kid, don’t worry. You can go to sleep,” Peter didn’t know if Tony was reassuring himself or the kid.

Stil, nonetheless, Peter seemingly couldn’t hold back from murmuring a last thought as he fell asleep.

“Love you, dad”

Tony froze for a moment before replying, “Yeah, i love you too, kid,”

#irondad #spiderson #peter parker #tony stark #friendly neighborhood exchange #whump #fluff #poison #nightmares #comfort #hurt/comfort #daniel writes

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sicjimin · 3 years

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wait-- if ur still awake can we get something on sympathy sickness????? any member is okay!!!! and it can be the shortest drabble in the world. i just want somethng to read and i love your writing.

heheh im awake because its still noon here :D okay here you go with the short and sweet sympathy sickness ~

Sickie : Yoongi & Jimin // Caretaker : Jimin

This is the second day of Jimin taking care of Yoongi that has been plagued by stomach bug. It hits the older hard, as he would throw up anytime, only crackers and water that could go through his stomach. And maybe, seeing the older throwing up has been taking a toll on him too.

Like right now.

It was around 12? Jimin didn't know—he was passed out as soon as he comes from works, seeing Yoongi already curled up on their bed, complete with a bin beside the bed— when he was woken up with the sound of someone vomiting.

He groggily opened his eyes, and immediately shoot awake as his eyes catch Yoongi's figure, hunched over hugging the trashcan, vomit pouring from his pale lips. He looks in pain.

Jimin sits up, scoots closer to the older and wrapping his figure in his arms, "Hyung .."

Yoongi lifted his head, his cheeks flushed and his eyes glassy, "Jimin-ah..." His voice was thick from sickness, as not long after muttering the words, his mouth already quivered with another round of food wanting to come out. Making him dived his head down again to the trashcan.

Jimin rubs small circles into his back, "Sshh, i'm here hyung..let it out"

"Uurrrkk-", Yoongi retches, spraying water loudly filling the bin. Jimin grimaces at the sound. For some reason, it makes his stomach rolls too.

The older continues to vomit, body wracked in pain. Jimin held onto the older as he throws up, his arms shaking under the weight of Yoongi's body, trying to keep him steady. And his nausea only grows stronger with every sound of vomit plopping inside and every jostles of the older's body.

After few minutes, Yoongi had finally calmed down.

The older slumped down onto Jimin's chest. Jimin sighed in relief.

" You're done hyung?", Jimin asked, taking the trashcan away from Yoongi's laps. Placing it on the floor.

"Mn. Tired." The elder mumbles, eyes closed tightly as he snuggled into the covers.

A small smile found it's way to Jimin's face as he leaned closer to the older, "Sleep again hyung"

" 'm sorry for waking you up", Yoongi slurs before exhaustion taking him.

Jimin smiled, and he slowly made his way out of the bed, taking the trashcan with him to clean, in case Yoongi's stomach decided to rebels again later.

And maybe that was his first fault, adding to the commotion of his stomach earlier. As his stomach clenched at the sight of vomit down to the toilet, making him gag as well. He let the trashcan go from his grips, and let himself kneel in front of the bowl, gripping it tightly as his shoulder rolls with heave.

"Uuurrk-", he gurgles up his dinner. He let out a low moan as his stomach convulsed once again, more food threatening to pour out.

'Shit', he thought. He gushes up the air, trying desperately to calm himself down. But his stomach wouldn't stop churning.

He felt the urge to puke again. And he did.

Jimin continued emptying his stomach till there wasn't anything left to bring up. Panting heavily, he pulled himself off the bowl, letting his head rest on the seat.

" Jimin-ah?"

Shit.

The door opened before Jimin can prevent it, showing Yoongi with his disheveled look, walking to him, worry prominent on his face.

Jimin sits up straight, "Hyung .. don't come here, it's gross" , he mutters. Yoongi vomiting again is the last thing he needs. He knows his stomach hasn't eased up yet.

"Are you sick?", Yoongi ignored the younger, sitting beside him and bring his clammy palm to rub Jimin's arms.

Jimin melted at the touch. He sniffles.

" Mhm, i dont know what gets into me. But seeing you throwing up making me nauseous as well", he mumbles.

"Oh god Jiminie, I'm so sorry", Yoongi whispers, pulling Jimin in his embrace, rubbing his back comfortingly.

Jimin sighs in content, leaning closer to Yoongi, resting his head against the older's shoulder.

" That's not your fault hyung. My stomach just weak", Jimin chuckles weakly, pulling himself away, and flushed the toilet. "Now let's get back to bed, i will clean the trashcan a bit", Jimin mutters.

Yoongi looks at him with a frown, " You're gonna vomit again if you did that, just let it be. I already feel better

"I won— hmmph", he says as he lift up the trashcan that he abandoned a while ago, but gag immediately erupted from him at the sight of it. He quickly clamped his mouth, and calm his breathing.

Yoongi chuckles, " See?"

Jimin gulped down faint sick in his throat when the nausea subsided, and sighed, "Okay. Let's just go to sleep. I will clean it up in the morning"

#bts emeto #tw emeto #tw vomit #sick!jimin #sick!yoongi

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masonscig · 3 years

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first line tag game

thank you for the tag @crackerdumortain !!!!! yours were so much fun to read omg !!!!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag some of your favourite authors!

[disclaimer: i write for the choices fandom and some for litg so you’ll see a mix of those fandoms on this list LMAO]

1. stay [twc – mason x sofía]

The first time was casual. She had a knack for musing her thoughts aloud, tossing her harmless opinions out for anyone who’d catch them.

She was good at starting conversations in that way – while he’d never been one for talking.

She never did it with heavy topics, though.

2. thieves in the shadows [choices – blades au – mal x zilyana]

bullets pelted the crates they were crouched behind, wood splintering in every direction. bodies were strewn across the warehouse, the unmistakable pools of blood streaking across the stone.

“raine! to your left!” immy yelled her way, barely sparing her a glance before unloading her clip, shell casings clinking against the ground.

the gun trembled in yana’s hands. she’d shot one before – practice at the gun range, glass bottles in a back alley – but never a live target.

3. if we meet again [choices – open heart au – bryce x spencer] 18+

year one

The ride from the airport to her parents’ home was long and grueling, the slushy ice pelting the windshield barely passing for snow.

It was practically sub-zero outside, a stark difference between the mid seventies weather she’d just left.

4. clandestine [twc – mason x sofía] 18+

“hey. hey wake up –”

she stirred at the greeting, but jumped when he kicked the desk. her face contorted into a grimace, the imprint of her tweed jacket on her cheek outlined in pink. “hmm?”

“you fell asleep again,” he said, plopping a bag in front of her.

5. undying [choices – blades – mal x zilyana]

Zilyana stirred, resituating herself against Mal’s bare chest, feeling his arm instinctively tighten around her shoulders. When she realized she was missing the sound of his deep breathing, accompanied with an occasional soft snore, she cracked an eye open to see his chin tipped upwards, his gaze trained on the ceiling.

6. talent show [choices – platinum – shane x dom]

There wasn’t a day that went by where she didn’t cross his mind. Even since they were kids.

He admired so much about her – her fiery spirit, her drive, her unwavering tenacity.

And he’d been in love with Dom for as long as he could remember.

7. redeemed [choices – platinum – raleigh x dom]

As soon as he stepped off stage, he was shuffled to his tour bus, Fiona on his heels. She looked like the human embodiment of rage in a grey blazer, a look in her eye that made him thankful he wasn’t the one it was directed at – or at least he hoped he wasn’t the reason she was two seconds away from a murderous rampage.

8. hidden [choices – foreign affairs – blaine x carina] 18+

Her cheek slipped out of the palm of her hand, forehead smacking the desk, nearly jumping out of her skin at the abrupt awakening.

“Ow.”

She prodded the tender spot on her face, thankful her foundation was thick.

A soft snore caught her attention – next to her, Blaine was passed out. Leaning back in his chair, his head was thrown back, arms crossed against his chest, the textbook on its face in his lap.

9. is this fate? [litg au – bobby x mc] 18+

The peroxide was cold when it hit her skin, the liquid bubbling on her knee, relentlessly stinging. She sucked in a breath through gritted teeth.

“Sorry… should be over soon,” he murmured, wiping up the stray liquid that streamed down her leg with a small rag.

The heaviness of the atmosphere between them was almost too much to bear – they’d barely spoken since he helped her onto the counter in his small office, leg propped up between his own, where he sat in his desk chair.

10. asvista cove [litg college au – bobby x elena]

Bobby’s thumb flicked the lighter repeatedly until he got a consistent flame, moving slowly from left to right over the edge of the blunt. His cheeks hollowed out as he sucked in, the tip of it an auburn ember. He pulled it out of his mouth and sucked in an even deeper breath, holding it.

When he blew out the thick cloud of smoke, he passed it to her, coughing under his breath. “Whew. Your turn.”

She followed suit, the thick smoke coating the inside of her lungs, bitter and heavy. She exhaled, the shroud smoke enveloping her view of the sealine.

11. reticent [twc – mason x sofía] 18+

She was bare.

Bare in the way that one is when they’ve been stripped down and torn apart with a trained gaze just calculating enough for them to feel seen – parts of her she didn’t know she’d hidden splayed out like withered pages of a book, dog-eared and marked up like a frequently reread novel.

One he’d reread because it was familiar, because it had fallen into his lap (he hadn’t searched for it), not so much because it was his favorite.

12. more [twc – mason x sofía] 18+

He laced his fingers through her thick hair, reveling in the way his skin looked contrasted against the midnight of her hair.

[the way i can’t post more than this bc it’s....... very nsfw right out the bat LMFAO]

13. calm before the storm [choices – open heart – bryce x spencer]

Since the moment his hands trembled amidst one of the most important surgeries of his life, Bryce was holding on by a thread.

With each half-assed joke he cracked, each wavering smile, each time he tried convincing others – including himself – that he was coping, he fell apart more and more.

The first night he went home after Spencer was quarantined, he trudged through the halls of Edenbrook, like he was dragging his legs through wet concrete. He was nearly magnetized to her bedside, not wanting to leave, but he needed to rest – he’d been awake for nearly a day and a half by the time he clocked out.

14. envy | part two of the attached series [twc – mason x sofía x felix]

He strode down the hallway, hands in his pockets to give the illusion that he didn’t give a shit, when he was most definitely on edge. His fingers flicked his lighter open and closed against the twill lining of his pockets, trying to focus on the soft clicking noise it made instead of the swarm of thoughts clouding his conscience.

He still couldn’t figure out why he cared so much.

15. comfort | part one of the attached series [twc – mason x sofía x felix]

He noticed it before she did.

Her pulse didn’t jump the same way it did the first dozen times he walked into the room. The blood didn’t rush to her cheeks, or creep up her neck, the crimson flush absent even when he tried his hardest to fluster her. And it normally took next to nothing to get her to turn into a bumbling mess.

16. out of time [choices – open heart – sienna x danny]

She sprinted down the hallway, pager still beeping erratically on her hip, the weight of the numbers enough to make her feel like she was slugging through wet concrete.

No, no, not him, please, not him, she chanted to herself, vision blurring with tears before she had the chance to let the negative possibilities set in.

17. unrequited part three [choices – open heart – bryce x spencer]

She slumped into the seat in the deserted waiting room, her joints popping as she stretched, her deep sigh echoing off of the tile. She was exhausted.

She could usually push through the worst of her shifts, but fatigue settled into her bones, a lethargy she’d never experienced entrapping her like a net, and she couldn’t fight her way out of it this time.

18. signs [choices – ride or die – logan x raquel]

“A final in sign language? Couldn’t you just have a conversation with the teacher or some shit?” Logan sat across from her on the couch, watching as her fingers bent and flexed, transfixed.

She stopped abruptly, screwing her mouth to the side in concentration. She repeated the same few moves, getting more and more frustrated with each sequence.

19. mementos [choices – ride or die – logan x raquel]

The sound of his boots slapping against the damp pavement reverberated off of the brick of the alleyways, his gasping breaths adding to the symphony that was his escape.

20. warmth [twc – mason x sofía]

“You’re going the wrong way,” Mason grunted, looking particularly stiff in her passenger seat.

“I thought we could take the scenic route,” she shrugged, flicking her high beams on as she turned off of the main road leading downtown, easing on the brakes when the tires hit the gravel.

okay so....... i didn’t really realize just HOW MUCH i’ve written since the summer? i’ve fallen into a pattern where i think i’m a failure bc of how slow i am to write because i have so many series i’ve started and dropped off and wips i’ve abandoned but.... i’ve managed to write for most appreciation weeks i’ve both hosted/participated in and i’ve written for THREE fandoms.... i don’t normally gas myself up but? i’m really? proud of myself? KSJDJKSD if you read this far thank you and you’re prob watching me have a breakdown over how much i’ve managed to write oh my GOD ok i need to lie down KLSDFKASFJD i didn’t even think i could hit 20 but i did???? alright i’m officially gonna treat myself at some point bc i did all this in less than a year.... these are from the end of july 2020 to now..... wow ok im done i promise SKDFJKSDF

tagging: @raleighcarrera and @pixeljazzy !!! <3

#tag games #my fic #long post

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m00nlitknight · 4 years

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librarian helper

fandom: IT (2017) pairing: henry bowers / goody-two-shoes reader word count: 1,635 warnings: none to really point out? henry being henry?? summary: Oh, how one tires of stagnant days. extra: my favorite part of this is when richie said 'mullet-boy bowers' im iconic. i also finished this at like 3am pls b gentle i hope i wrote henry ok! feedback is highly appreciated, thank you for reading!

archive of our own link.

Monday mornings in Derry weren’t ideal, regardless of the context. Teens awoken far too early for their own good, forced to come to grips with the reality that it was the first day back from the weekend. Trudging through the crowded student body and longing for the day to be over just as soon as it was to begin. A variety of feelings made the air heavy and thick with a concoction so truthful to the high school experience; frustration, exhaustion, and the underlying scent of yearning.

Few an individual found themselves bragging of the weekend’s extracurricular activities, cackling with an unusual vigor and energy unlike the rest of their near-ghoulish peers. Others were sitting on the ground, rushing through their assignments with adrenaline only just granted to them; oh yes, the heart-stopping experience of forgetting that there was homework.

Fortunately, you’d hadn’t found yourself in that predicament this morning, having thoroughly done your homework on Friday night. Best to do it then push it off and forget it; your own philosophy. Not to say you hadn’t found yourself in the same situation in times past, nor were you above those whose memory’s had failed them.

Quietly you step up to your locker, opening it and glancing down to your left, where Richie Tozier was currently scribbling nonsense down on what you assumed to be Government. You hummed, putting your things away quickly and retrieving what looked to be the same assignment - some stupid worksheet the teacher assigned, no doubt some kind of busywork. Your class truly had no grasp on the concept of being ‘quiet,’ which annoyed you to no end.

You squatted down to his level, with his pencil not even ceasing as you set the paper in his peripheral. No teachers were at their morning posts yet, either that or the ones who were supposed to be there simply didn’t care to be there.

“Oh - uh, shit, how much?” His eyes shifted from you to the paper quickly as he fumbled to reach for something - likely his wallet.

“Nothing,” Your voice leaves you laced with amusement as you push the paper into his grasp. “Just don’t get caught with it, please.”

“Aw, c’mon! You can’t just hand it the fuck over for free, man, that’ll mean I owe you a solid.”

“Just consider it on the house, Tozier. It’ll be fine, you don’t owe me.”

“Okay, okay, but don’t come hollerin’ when you suddenly need a favor from ol’ Richie, alright?”

You hum in affirmation, turning back to your locker and beginning to sort through the things that would be needed for the day to come. Around you, energy began to rise, individuals of the student body reanimating through social interaction. The morning sun may not have been enough to revitalize them, but it appeared that the promise of teenage-to-teenage interaction was.

Richie finished his work with your worksheet quickly, shoving it back in your direction with a toothy grin. “Thanks, dude, you’re a fuckin’ lifesaver, I swear.”

“Like I said, it’s nothing! Do you need help with anything else? You know I have a basically free second period in the library.”

“Nah, thanks for the offer,” He seemed to finalize, standing up to go through his own locker. “I’ll make sure to send my dumbfuck friends your way if they happen to need any tutoring, though.”

You release a laugh through your nose, head shaking as you did so. Richie looked to you with a momentary smile, only to have it fall when he looked passed to the people around you.

“Alright, don’t panic,” naturally, you felt a little alarmed as a grimace crept onto his features. “ but I think you have a momentary peepin’ Tom right now.”

“Uh ... what ... do you mean?” You couldn’t help the faint caution and apprehension crawling into your voice.

“Mullet-boy Bowers is staring at you like ... really intensely,” he turned to you once again, putting an not-so-reassuring hand on your shoulder. “If I were you, I’d get the fuck outta dodge right now.”

With that, he stepped around you, maneuvering through the hallway - likely to class - and leaving you by your lonesome and, unfortunately, vulnerable. Quickly after his departure, the bell rang shrill overhead, signaling the beginning of class as students begrudgingly made their way to their first hour classes. You made yourself among their ranks, gathering your things to hopefully outrun ( or walk in this case ) any physical advancements the fellow student could’ve had on you.

The classroom’s door frame never felt more welcoming as you stepped foot into it, releasing a breath of comfort. Most of the class had yet to filter in, meaning there was more reign to choosing whatever seat you wanted. With a hum of appreciation, you step further in, choosing a seat not-too-close and not-too-far back for your liking, sitting down and preparing for class.

You keep your attention focused on your notebook for the beginning as classmates make their way in, sitting in various spots around the room and leaving you by yourself. Booted footfalls make their dreaded way over to you, finding themselves seated to your right. Sudden fear prickles your skin, suddenly making the room too warm and too cold at once while your shoulders tense. For the love of god, be anyone, anyone other than who you thought it was.

The seat creaks, likely with the weight of its occupant leaning into your vicinity. “Did’ja get the homework done, girlie?” You can almost hear the smirk in his whisper, as though he’s a wolf bearing his maw to a sheep. You tense further, shaking your head as you unconsciously lean further into the empty space you have right.

“S’funny...swear I saw you givin’ it to Trashmouth ‘fore class started,” The seats to your front and back were occupied by others, quite possibly remaining individuals who found an alliance with Henry. “Always thought’ch’re a good girl...be a shame if someone fucked that up for y’huh?”

Blackmail? That didn’t really seem like his style, then again it didn’t quite seem like you were being offered a choice of any kind - especially if he had the man power of his goons with him.

“So what’s it gonna be, huh? We ain’t got much time,” his voice transcribed his annoyance as your mulling was cut short, sliding the paper into his vision as he diligently scribbled the answers down. Across the room you caught the eye of Richie, quickly looking away in shame. You nearly miss the amused “s’what I thought,” murmured from Henry as he finishes the work quickly, shoving your desk with a bark of laughter.

The class continues on with its usually snail-like pace, much to your dismay as you keep your eyes locked on either the clock or your notebook. In front of you sat Belch Huggins, likely to his own humor since you were no longer able to see the board, and to your back sat Victor Criss who was able to sneak in an early nap. Through the paperballs being spat at or thrown at you from your right, you couldn’t help but feel that this was in some way better than having Patrick sit nearest to you - even if he was still creepily staring into your shoulder from behind Henry with what you could only guess was that irking grin. God forbid it was his expressionless face, that churned nervousness in your gut.

The bell rang once again overhead, signaling your freedom to the library as you scrambled to gather your things and rush passed before you had the chance to get cornered. Dumping what you had in your hands in your locker - you figured it would be for later you to organize - you did your best to scamper to the library unseen.

It seemed to have worked for the most part, aside from the bemused glances you garnered from teachers. Only momentary, they shrugged it off as you being a good kid in a hurry. As you entered the vicinity, you released another sigh of relief. If there was one thing you knew, it was that Henry Bowers wouldn’t be caught dead in a library. You didn’t really worry about his friends either, they were probably busy giving some unfortunate soul a swirlie, or whatever.

“Always on time, aren’t you?” The librarian, Ms. Andrews, rhetorical question was met with a beaming smile from you. “I’ve written things down for you to do, I’ll be in and out today helping the bookkeeper in the office.”

With a timid nod, you walked over to what she’d assigned you to do, looking through the short list with a thought of reaffirmation. Checking books back in, sorting back through them, and putting labels on new ones. You didn’t think you’d get through it all in the allotted time, though you were sure she’d been aware. Despite the world’s slow pace of going digital, Derry managed to lag behind - leaving you and your school with the unfortunate continuation of the paper system instead of being able to have the use of a computer.

“I’ll be back soon, dear, you know where where everything is,” she rounded the counter top before stepping out of the room, heels clicking loudly on the linoleum outside the carpeted room. A few moments later, the sound of boots made themselves apparent on the floor outside, going unnoticed by you as you began working on what had been assigned to you.

Looking up, your eyes met the smug gaze of Bowers himself - to which you tensed up once again. It stayed like what for an uncomfortable amount of time, the stuffy silence broken by the likes of you.

“Didn’t think you’d be a fan of the library,” you murmured, closing the book and setting it on the cart to be replaced.

“Wasn’t really, ‘till a lil’ birdy told me where my favorite bunny hangs out fer her second hour,” A sly smirk crawled onto his features as he watched you grimace over the use of the pet name.

He stepped forward, watching a physical flinch from you occur whilst he leaned his elbows onto the counter. It was stupid of him to get worked up over watching you squirm like that, but he had to admit there was definitely a feeling that came along with it. Leaning onto the counter, he gazed into your face. “What’ya say to us peelin’ outta here, goin’ and havin’ some actual fun?”

You fell silent at the question, blush darkening your features all the way to the ear. Unable to keep eye contact, you glanced to the pile of books that suddenly seemed way more interesting. “I’d say,” your voice came out so much more fragile then you’d meant it to as you looked back into his eyes. “Take me to dinner first.”

At your rebuttal, he found himself at a momentary loss for words, his own cheeks dusting with a faint pink. His smirk faltered, before returning at full force. “Can’t a man get a taste first, then?”

“ Uh, ” your mouth went dry, eyes suddenly widening. How could he be so forward?

“What’ll it be, doe-eyes?”

With a glance around the vacant library, you looked to him again. “Follow me.”

His smirk turned wolfish as you led him to the vague-privacy of the bookshelves. Once the doorway was out of sight, and the two of you were tucked away into a corner, you looked to him. “We’ll have to be quick...and quiet.”

He stepped to you, only partially caging you in with one hand. “I can do quick, but I can’t promise quiet, bunny.”

“W-we can’t do much,” you stammer, face flushing as he lowered himself to your neck. “I’m n-not that easy!” You squeak when you feel his lips press against your jugular, putting an embarrassed hand to your mouth.

“Thought we had to be quiet,” he chuckled.

You put your hands onto his face, dragging him backward to press a chaste kiss to his lips. Quickly, he swatted your hands away, coming to rest his own on your waist as you replaced your hands onto his shoulders. The kiss escalated to eyes being closed, lip nipping, and heads turning for a better angle.

You gently pulled away, in turn his hands beginning to roam your mid-section with curiosity as you caught your breath. When he brushed a certain spot, you couldn’t suppress a giggle, much to his amusement as he began to brush it intentionally.

“Henry!” You giggle, putting your hands on his chest to push him away.

“Y’know, I like the sound of my name on your lips, doe-eyes,” He pressed a kiss to your lips once again before pulling away completely. “Maybe you’ll be sayin’ it with more gusto tonight, huh?”

Your face flushes, eyes widening again. “Oh - oh! Uh, maybe..?”

“Meet me durin’ lunch, we’ll talk then,” and with a wink, he set out of the library.

#henry bowers x reader #henry bowers imagine #henry bowers #it 2017 fanfiction #it 2017 #anyway #reader insert

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just-another-haikyuu-blog · 3 years

Text

Best friends.. but more💕

Takanobu Aone × fem!reader

Tags: NSFW,, biting,, daddy/princess petnames,, heart break

Tw: drinking, drunk sex,,

Word count: 1800+

Im a wee bit drunk atm if yall find any grammar errors or would like tags or tws I could add message me and let me know. Other than being drunk Im also new to tagging stories so sometimes I don't pay attention 😅

NSFW under the cut♡

It was sometimes rather odd being best friends with Aone. Everyone else in your class and well the whole school seemed to think he's so intimidating. Which is kinda funny considering its based on his height. When in reality hes just a big ol teddy bear.

You were rather glad no one really knew him like you did. Still he wasn't very talkative when you two hung out but you could tell by his body language that he always had a good time. Especially when you two played games together. Who would imagine this very stiff, quiet guy actually gets angry when he loses at video games. It wasnt very noticable until he'd always makes an excuse to go get snacks every time he would lose. You caught him quietly fuming to himself in the kitchen after a couple times. Which turned into many times of sneaking out of his room just to watch him and having your heart race trying to make it back so he wouldn't know that you essentially were stalking him in his own home. It was then you realized maybe your feelings toward him were for more than just friendship. A thought you'd never have expected to have towards your best friend. So you shook it off everytime you felt it a little more not wanting to hurt your relationship.

After graduation things stayed the same mostly. The only real difference was after you two had gotten jobs and places of your own and it was a bit harder to spend time together. So when you two had time to spare you were either at his house or him at your apartment. It was never abnormal for you two to stay the night together. Most of the time you'd drink and play games together. Which really wasnt very often lately because your boyfriend didn't like another guy spensing the night.

It didnt matter how many times you told him that Aone is just your best friend and nothing more. He never believed you. Finally after countless texts and calls of Aone asking to come over you decided to go to his place. You got drunk and vented to him about everything, eventually passing out. Being the sweet guy he is Aone helped you to the couch and covered you up. The very next day you woke up to multiple calls and messages from your boyfriend. It was clear he was pissed but you shrugged it off and stuffed your phone in your pocket. You explained the situation and Aone offered to drive you home. It didnt seem like too big a deal that was until you made it home. Your boyfriend standing next to his car outside your place. Seeing you with Aone made him furious. "I guess Im gonna go sort this out. I'll text you later." you said before exiting the car.

Immediately your boyfriend dragging you up to your apartment. Not even two seconds inside and he berates you with questions. "Were you at his place last night? Is that why you weren't home this morning? Did you fuck him? I cant believe-" you stopped him right there and told him plainly "No. I didn't fuck him. I missed my best friend and I got drunk and passed out. If it werent for that I'd have come home last night." None of it seeming to have any bit of a difference to him. He shook his head with a deep scowl on his face, "We're done." he said and walked out the door. You didnt try to stop him and just let him go.

It took a while for the sadness to hit but when it did you got pretty depressed because you actually really liked the guy. But in the end you werent going to give up your best friend time for some guy no matter how much you liked him.

A couple days after the break up you had went out drinking with your work and got absolutely shitfaced. Thankfully one of your coworkers got your phone. "Dont worry y/n I called a friend to come get you. He should be here any minute." You were barely coherent to what she said and ended up face down in your food crying.

Aone finally showing up, and everyone being in awe of his demeanor towards you. They all drunkenly tell him how good a boyfriend he is. He didnt correct them, just thanked them for calling and said that he'd take care of you. He rubbed your back and leaned down to say "Y/n Im here to take you home. Hop on my back Ill carry you." Your coworkers cheering him on yet again for being so sweet. You being wasted beyond belief got entirely too excited at the idea of a piggy back ride. It took a couple tries but you eventually got on his back.

The walk to his car was kind of cold and your nose was especially suffering. "Aoneee~ my nose its- *hiccup* c-cold." You said right before you snuggled your face into his warm neck. The smell of him almost making you melt. You leaned up into his ear "aoneeeee," you said with such a pouty tone, "A-o-ne Ivee got a seeecret.. I think I might like you.. e-even in high school." You lean back down to nuzzle your face into his neck not noticing how much the tall silent man was blushing. He didn't really say much back and honestly you didn't really notice from how drunk you were.

You hadnt even realized that at some point he had put you in his car. He decided to just take you back to his house since it was closer. You ended up falling asleep blabbering about how hot you were and trying to take off your clothes. Pulling up you were still out of it and thankfully clothed since you were too drunk to get them off. He picked you up and carried you inside up to his bed. Normally you would sleep on the couch but with how things were tonight he'd take the couch.

He laid you down and gathered up a tshirt and some of his sleeping pants, which were way too big. He woke you up enough to have you change clothes and tuck you in. "If you need anything at all Im right on the couch." He stood up to walk to the door. Only to have you grab his hand and pull him down over top of you. "don't go." You said in barely a whisper almost whining. Looking down at you in this way causing his body to react to you like it never has before. Almost making him leave immediately, seeing as how you werent in your right mind, but the way you tugged at him he let you win. He moved over to the other side of you whispering back "okay but once youre asleep im going to the couch."

He laid there looking at you thinking about what you had said when he picked you up and this overwhelming feeling of wanting you filled his mind. You in search of warmth rolled over to cuddle your back against him. Your body kind of going on its own at this point from your drunken and slightly horny state. He had no idea what to do and felt a panic wash over him before you grabbed his arm and wrapped it around you. Feeling the neediness of how his hand held your waist your ass began grinding against him. His hand gripping you tight trying to keep his composure forcing a low moan out of you and the words flowed out of your mouth, "Aone please♡ touch me please." Thats all it took for him to break. You could feel both hands now on your waist pulling you into him grinding his hard cock against your ass. Every thrust and his tightening grip forcing a moan out of you.

The pants he gave you slowing riding down leaving you in just his shirt. He freed a hand to roam over your body and leaned down just barely breathing over your neck before running his tongue along your skin to find the most sensitive spot. You gasped at how good it felt. A little further he thought, just a nip right there in that sensitive little spot. Grabbing your hips as you grinded against him begging for more. "Pleasee Aone more.. bite me more mmm please" gasping between every word. He obliged and sunk his teeth into you. He immediately felt your body tense up as you moaned for more from him "Aone♡ fuck- fuck me please." "You sure?" He said back. Your hand reaching back to grab his lengthy throbbing cock "yesss~ mmmm fuck you're so big" stroking it listening to his quiet moans in your ear turning you on even more. Enjoying the feeling of your small hands fondling him so needily. Pushing him so close to his climax he had to remove your hand before wound up cumming all over your backside. The pleasure overcoming his mind he rolled you over to your back legs falling off to either side of him he looked you over as you watched him pull off his shirt, his muscles gleaming from all the sweat. "Fuck.." you gasp breathlessly.

"Like what you see, princess?" His words like honey to you. "Mmm fuck yes daddy, I like every.. last.. bit of what I see~" Barely able to get your words out before he thrust his big throbbing cock inside you. "Mmf♡ fuck~ oh fuck~~" Your moans fueling his lust filled mind as he went harder just to see your expressions as the pleasure took you over. Your words jumbled as you barely were able to get out anything between moans. The squelching between your legs at every thrust on top of the low moans coming from his lips driving you mad as you felt him hitting the deepest part of you. "Mmmf♡ i-i.. fuc- i-mmmm im cu-" your moan cutting you off as you came all over his thick cock. The feeling of your walls tightening around him sending him over the edge he grunted grinding himself deeper inside you painting your insides in his juices. His moans stifled by your mouth as you pulled him down into a deep kiss. Neither of you having the want to move just laid there intertwined. Exhaustion taking over you both passed out almost simultaneously.

You woke up to an empty bed and your clothes folded neatly on the dresser. Only remembering bits and pieces from the night before but enough to know what had taken place in this bed right where you were laying. Your face as red as a beet you pulled the covers up over yourself, almost wanting to squeal. You heard the knob twisting and you laid back down pretending to be asleep. You could hear him walk in closer and closer until it felt like he was right over you and your eyes snapped open. His face directly above yours he leaned forward and kissed you and scooped you up with the covers you were rolled up in. Your face hot and embarrassed as to the suddenness, " Wh-what are you doing??" He smiled down at you continuing on, "Don't worry princess, Im just taking you to the bathroom so you can clean yourself up.. unless of course you want to continue last night?" Every bit of the night before flooded your head as he sat you down. You almost couldnt believe it. Slightly embarrassed you knew if you didn't take this chance now you'd hate yourself for it later. Dropping the blankets you pulled him into the bathroom. "You helped make the mess now you can help clean it." A tiny smirk crossed his mouth and you knew you were going to get way more than you bargained for.💕

#takanobu aone × fem!reader #haikyuu #drinking #part 2?#takanobu aone

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sylvain-writes · 4 years

Text

Scarlet Letters (TMNT Raphael x Reader)

Chapter 5/8: Something’s Gotta Give

Bed sharing.

(Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ao3)

“I’m not…” Raphael shakes his head as his chin drops to his chest. “That’s not me,” he says quietly. And then he’s moving.

He makes it across the room before you abandon the dishes on the table to follow. “Not what?” you ask as the turtle perches himself on the edge of the couch. “You’re not making any sense.”

His broad shoulders slump as he sits with his elbows on his knees. The position must be uncomfortable, but the grimace twisting his features doesn’t seem to be in response to physical pain.

“Maybe I don’ think things through,” he mutters. “An’ I get carried away.” Raphael’s hands pass over each other in a smooth, yet nervous, pattern. “But fearless? Nah, that’s my brutha.” A quiet chuckle breaks Raphael’s explanation; it holds more sorrow than mirth. “Fearless. I-I called him that sometimes, y’know? Started as a joke when he first took up the role as our leader. But… he earned it. He earned it every day we-”

“Did something happen to him?” Hearing Raphael speak in the past tense, you know that can't mean anything good.

Raphael heaves a sigh and forces another chuckle at his choice of words. “We didn’t exactly part amicably.”

You can see Raphael is trying to keep things light, but you want him to know that he doesn’t have to. Not with you.

Your hand alights to his as you take a seat beside him, and you give it a gentle squeeze. He turns his palm under yours, open to receive your touch. Your fingers curl around his and he doesn’t let go. You wonder, not for the first time, if he remembers holding your hand as he slept. You wonder if he notices how perfectly your hand fits in his.

“We fought,” he goes on. “We were always fightin’. He followed me topside. Then, to the rooftops where we got mixed up with some unsavories. He probably thinks I ditched ‘im. Probably why he told the guys not to come lookin’ fo’ me.”

“Raphael.” There’s no doubt of your affection when you speak his name. With his hand in yours, it doesn’t feel like this thing between you is one-sided. “I don’t believe for a second that your brothers don’t want to look for you.”

“They ain’t the ones that dragged me outta that alley. They ain’t found me here.” He has no idea just how bad the weather conditions have gotten.

“There’s a foot of snow on the ground and a thick layer of ice on top of that,” you explain with a sympathetic frown. “No one is out looking for anybody. Fearless or Hot-head, I doubt any of you turtle guys handle the cold well.”

“Heh, sure.”

Knocking your shoulder against him doesn’t feel like colliding with a wall. There’s give to the rippling muscles of Raphael’s arm. There’s a playful quality to the way he sways, going along with your action.

“Red,” you remind him, “you were slipping in and out of consciousness all night. As soon as the temperature rises above freezing, we’ll get you home.”

His hand gently releases yours and your heart sinks at the loss, but then it’s back. The pad of Raphael’s thumb drags across your knuckles as he sits in thought. Each pass of his thumb eases your anxiety. His quietude convinces you that he’s taking your concerns to heart.

“I should call them,” he says hesitantly, like it’s a responsibility he knows he can’t put off any longer. “Where’s my pack?”

You drag your lower lip between your teeth, knowing you should have searched sooner. “There wasn’t one. I had to make sure you were gonna be OK before I checked the alley.”

Though leaving Raphael’s side isn’t something you feel ready to do, you know it’s time to show him what you found.

From the credenza at the front door, you retrieve the forked weapon and smashed communication device.

Raphael accepts both from you in stunned silence before setting the sai aside. The remains of the shell phone lie in pieces in his hands.

“It must have gotten damaged during your fall from the roof.”

Raphael’s reluctance to speak with his brothers is replaced by urgency. “I gotta get back out there. If somebody stole that pack-” In his rush to stand, Raphael’s knees buckle and he lets out a pained grunt.

“Easy.”

“My bruthas could be in trouble.” Unsteady on his feet, he reaches out to find support. His hand clamps onto your shoulder with a grip strong enough to hold him up, but you marvel at his control. He doesn’t hurt you. Even when it would have been easy for him to get lost in his own panic and pain, to forget how fragile you are in comparison, he keeps your safety in mind.

Instinctively, you do the same for him. With a hand on his waist, you draw attention to the fresh bandages protecting his side. “Raphael,” you warn him, “you’re in no condition to go out there.”

His eyes plead for your understanding, for your consent. “But I gotta.”

Your hand pets the exposed skin of Raphael’s hip and encourages him closer. You don’t want to watch him beg, but you can’t bear to look away. “Then, we go together. Tomorrow. After we’ve both gotten some real rest.”

“But-” His anxious resolve is fading. He’s listening to you.

“Tomorrow.”

Raphael touches the bandage at his side and his fingers meet yours. As he looks down at your hands together, the bulk of his impatience dissolves into a sigh. “Yeah, yeah,” he concedes. “Tomorrow.”

⁂

“Are you gonna make this weird?” you tease, pulling up the blankets to climb into the sofabed.

Raphael huffs as you lie back on the pillow opposite him. “I’m not gonna make it weird.”

“Really? Cause you’ve been looking everywhere but at me when I’m the only other person in the room, and I gotta say, that’s making it feel a little weird.”

“You’re da one makin’ it weird by talkin’ about it.”

“Uh huh.” Staring at the ceiling, you fill your lungs and heave a heavy sigh.

⁂

After discovering that an hour trading huffs and hums does nothing to dissipate the awkwardness, Raphael concedes defeat. “Y’know, I gotta admit, dis is weird.”

You roll onto your side to stare at the wall of blankets and couch cushions the turtle has piled between you. “Can’t imagine why."

Weird or not, you leave the pillows in place. If they help Raphael feel even slightly better about sharing a bed, you won't pressure him into taking them down.

⁂

It’s a testament to your exhaustion that you’re able to fall asleep as easily as you do. You don’t mean to. Your intention is to stay up, to make sure Raphael is able to settle before you succumb to your need to rest.

It’s the bounce of the mattress, the soft groans as Raphael struggles in discomfort, that wake you.

“What’s wrong?” you ask groggily, but as soon as you’re up, you know. You can feel the chill from the tip of your nose to the ache in your fingers.

He says, “It’s nothin’,” like you can’t hear the chatter of his teeth.

You hug the heavy quilt around your shoulders and call his bluff. “You’re cold.”

“Gee, you must be a friggin’ mind reader.”

You secretly wish that were true. “I’m a nurse, actually. And warm-blooded. And even I'm freezing.”

There’s no response from beyond the wall.

With a sigh of exasperation, you take a calculated risk. One cushion at a time, you pull the barrier down. Raphael doesn’t protest. Surprisingly enough, you find him lying same as you were, facing the center of the bed, quilt drawn up to his chin.

“The cold ain’t gonna kill me,” he insists.

Suppressing the urge to roll your eyes, you smile. “I can help with that, if you let me.”

“What, ya gonna kill me?” he jests.

You level him with a glare, but tease him in kind. “Maybe.”

"Ha," he laughs. It’s one note, one puff of air straight from his chest. But it’s genuine, and even in the dark, you can see him smile. “Alright, alright. Easy, Killa.”

As you're adjusting the blankets to better insulate and share your heat, Raphael goes still.

"Whaddaya got there?" he asks.

You play dumb. You know what he's asking. You're wearing a sleeveless top specifically to help share your body's warmth, so of course the scar on your shoulder is exposed. "What's what?"

The press of Raphael's fingertips beside the scar comes as a surprise. The old wound hurts the same as always - dull and persistent - but the chill of Raphael's fingers soothes the ache.

"It happened a long time ago. I was just a kid."

"You were just a kid," Raphael’s whisper is as soft as the touch of his fingertips as he traces the lines of the old wound. "Someone did this to a kid?"

"How do you know someone did this? Maybe I fell. Maybe it was surgery. Maybe-"

"Sure,” Raphael placates. His fingers continue to follow the dark branching veins that spread from your scar’s center. “Maybe. But it wasn't, was it?"

It’s your turn to look away. The memories of that night flood your mind - the loss of your father, the searing pain as a nameless poison stained your blood, your other parent’s listless stare as you wept. Crying didn’t solve anything back then. But now, for the first time in ages, your nose burns with the threat of oncoming tears.

You clear your throat and dash your hands over your eyes. In your rush to stave off the tears, you end up knocking Raphael’s hand off of your shoulder. The loss of his touch is all the worse knowing that his retreat is your fault.

You want it back. You want Raphael close. Your mouth opens and closes without sound, your words trapped behind the lump in your throat.

Frustrated and torn by your want to be held and your need to hold yourself together, you push your fists against your eyes and turn your face into your pillow. You let out a long breath in a rush.

The room is silent save for the squeaks of the mattress springs as Raphael shifts his position. He doesn’t say anything when he brings your hands down from your face. He’s quiet as he slides one of his hands over your shoulder and down your back. You don’t even think he’s breathing until you’re safely nestled within his embrace.

“I don’t need you to pity me,” you mumble as he wraps you up in his arms.

“Pity? What pity?” With your cheek resting on his bicep, the soft caress of his fingers over your scalp eases your mind. His lips move against your hairline as he speaks. “You keep braggin’ about all that body heat. I'm just cashin’ in."

The lie is as much a comfort as the hand rubbing circles up and down your spine.

A low churr vibrates within Raphael’s chest as you trace the lines of his plastron. It takes you by surprise; you think it may take Raphael by surprise, as well. Still, he settles. You trace the line that divides his pectorals again. And when the churring picks up, it’s so strong it tickles the tips of your fingers.

As if his response to your touch isn’t encouragement enough, Raphael inches toward you until you yield to your own desire and close the rest of the gap. The tension in Raphael's muscles relax, and his arms wrap around you in full.

"I'm pretty friggin' cold," he admits like maybe it’s not the worst thing in the world. "So, I’m thinkin’ that I maybe gotta hold onto ya for a little while."

"Mhmm,” you hum, burrowing into the crook of his shoulder. “Can’t let all my work rescuing you go to waste." Your lazy smile curls against the warming skin of Raphael’s neck and your eyes drift closed once more.

As you sink into each other’s embrace, Raphael rests his cheek upon your head. "Exactly my point."

Dreamily, you agree, "It's a good one."

#Raphael x gender neutral reader #TMNT Raphael x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #Raphael x reader #TMNT Raphael x reader #TMNT Raphael #Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles #TMNT 2014/16 #bayverse raphael #bayverse tmnt

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sicklilspidey · 5 years

Text

Sensory Overload (due to illness)

The day started like any other for Peter Parker, well other than the fact that his stomach was fighting him. He wasn't sure why his stomach was bothering him so much, he just knew he couldn’t tell anyone. If he did MJ and Ned would hound him to go home and that’s the last thing he wanted. You see Peter had been waiting all week to go to the avengers tower so he can work on a new suit with Mr. Stark and train with Cap and Natasha, and lord knows nothing was going to stop him from going. Peter was on the bus to school when he felt someone poke him. He turned to see Ned with a concerned look on his face. “ what the hell dude, what was that for” Peter said harshly. “Woah, sorry. I was just making sure you were still alive. You honestly look like the definition of death” Ned said. This caught the attention of MJ. “ he’s right dork, you really don’t look good,” she said. ' ugh , why does everyone have to be so observant ’ peter thought to himself. “Look guys, im fine. Just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, that’s all ” Peter responded.

“ Okay, whatever you say loser,” MJ added. They left him alone after that, both having concern build up in the pit of their stomachs. The bus arrived at the school minutes later, and peter hurried off. He could feel the thick liquid coming up his throat, and his mouth was watering an insane amount. He knew he had to find a bathroom quickly but of course he ran right into Flash. “Woah, Parker watch where you’re going.” flash said as he shoved Peter. “Flash i’m honestly not in the best mood. I didn’t mean to run into you ,so can you just leave me be” Peter said shakily . “You’re lucky I'm in a good mood Parker” With that Flash moved out of the way and Peter ran down the hallway. As soon as he made it to the bathroom his breakfast made its grand entrance back into the world. All Peter could do was let his body do its thing. Once he finished, he shakily got up and flushed the toilet. He started to feel a little anxious but thought nothing of it. He caught a glimpse of himself on the way out of the bathroom and realized Ned was right, he really did look like death. He made his way to first period and when he got there everyone just stared at him. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that he was 20 minutes late or if it was his appearance. Either way he didn’t care, he just wanted the day to be over already. “Okay ,class solve this next equation on the board.” was all peter heard before he completely zoned out and escaped reality. “ Peter! Hello earth to Peter” peter snapped out of his trance and saw MJ standing there. “ hey, class is over,” she said. “ o-oh” peter responded. “ You sure you're okay, cause you look worse for wear” MJ said. Peter just nodded in response while grabbing his bag off the floor. He walked out of the classroom, and stumbled to his second period. His senses were starting to heighten but he tried to ignore it as much as possible. At this point Peter didn’t know what to do with himself, he just wanted to get through the day and make it to the tower. That was slowly starting to feel like an impossibility for peter. He’s barely made it through his first period, he couldn't even begin to imagine what the rest of the day had to throw his way. When he finally reached his second period class he was exhausted. He decided to just tune out this class just like he did in his first class. Time started to pass way faster than Peter expected and before he knew it, it was lunch. He slowly made his way to the cafeteria. He got to the table where Ned and MJ were seated and he sat down without a word. Both MJ and Ned looked up from their food and saw an absolutely miserable Peter displayed in front of them. “ Just go home already, you’re obviously sick” Ned said. “ No I'm not! I already told you two that i just didn’t sleep well” Peter basically yelled. MJ and ned were taken by surprise. It’s not like Peter to go off like that. Even peter as surprised, something was off and it wasn’t just his upset stomach. After lunch finished, it was like someone fast forwarded through the rest of the day. Soon the final bell rang and Peter let out a sigh of relief he wasn’t aware he was holding in. he made his way down the, what seemed like, never ending hallway and out the school’s front doors, there Happy was waiting for him. It was a silent ride to the tower. Happy noted how quiet Peter was, it wasn’t like him to not say a single word for an hour straight. “ you okay back there?” Happy asked. All Peter could do was grunt in response. Happy took that as a no ,but didn’t ask the kid anymore questions. When they arrived at the tower, Peter was more than ready to get out of the car. As soon as he was out of vehicle appy pulled him aside. “ hey kid, don’t push yourself too hard in there, I’m sure he’ll understand if you need a break” Happy said referring to Tony. In all honesty, Peter wasn’t focused on what Happy was saying, he was more focused on the bird and how loud they were. He’s never noticed that before. Once he realized Happy was done talking , Peter made his way into the tower. He was greeted by Cap who looked way too excited to see him. “Hey kiddo, heard you're gonna join me and natasha for some training" Cap said. Peter just nodded and they headed upstairs to the training area. There peter saw Mr. Stark sitting in the corner playing with some new gadget he probably just made, and natasha doing her stretches before training begun. "Oh, hey underoos" Tony said looking up from his new toy. Peter was surprised no one had commented on his appearance yet. " h-hey Mr. Stark" peter replied to Tony. He felt a chill go down his spine. "You good kid" Tony asked. Peter nodded. Cap came in and started barking orders. "Kid youre with me, Tony you're with natasha. After a few minutes we'll switch up partners." Peter immediately starting regretting showing up. His stomach was bothering him more and more by the minute, and everything seemed louder than usual. Sparring begun and peter heard a loud thud. " you really don't put up a fight anymore, do ya old man" natasha said making fun of tony who was currently laying on the floor. Cap started laughing, "don't make it that easy for me okay kid" he said referring to what just happened. Peter just nodded. Sparring begun again and peter was doing okay, he was dodging Cap's punches and kicks, but soon he started to become more and more aware of his surrounds. It was becoming too much for him. Without saying anything peter rushed out the door to find the nearest bathroom. "What did you do Steve" natasha asked. "Nothing, he just ran off" he replied. " I'll go find him" Tony said, making his way to the door. He walked down the hallway until he heard sobs coming from the bathroom. He didn't even bother knocking, he just barged in, and there sitting on the floor was Peter. He was shaking uncontrollably and looked as if he was about to pass out. "Kid, what going on" Tony asked. Peter finally broke. " I-I haven't been feeling well all day, and I tried to make it but i couldn't take it anymore. Everything was just becoming too much for me" he cried. Peter's stomach started to chime in with some uncomfortable sounding groans. "I CAN'T DO THIS! PLEASE MAKE IT STOP! MAKE THE NOISES STOP! MAKE MY STOMACH STOP HURTING! MAKE EVERYTHING STOP!" Peter yelled. Tony's heart broke. " I think you're having a sensory overload Peter." Tony said calmly. Peter just started sobbing again. He wanted it all to be over. His stomach began protesting which made him gag. "Hey bud, let's get you over the toilet " Tony said. When he got peter situated, peter immediately started throwing up. " you've got it pretty bad don't you" Tony said. "Friday, scan Peter" he added. "Peter's temperature is 103 and he seems to show signs of the stomach flu, sir" Friday said. "Thank you, oh and Friday, could you tell Cap i need him to bring me the fever reducers Bruce made him" Tony added. "Already done, sir" Friday replied. "Thank you" Tony said. Peter finished throwing up and sunk into the wall behind him. " well at least i know why you're having a sensory overload but what i don't know is why you felt the need to hide the fact that you're sick" Tony said. " I didn't want to let you down" peter said weakly. "Kid, you're sick. I would've let you take a few days off, I'm not a monster.'' Tony said with a smirk. Just then Cap came in with the medicine. "What's going on" he asked. "The kid has the stomach flu and hid it all day ,which made things worse ,and caused a sensory overload" tony replied. "Oh, well i hope you get better soon, because natasha was really hoping to kick your ass" Cap said before heading back to the training area. " let's get you to your room and in bed and ill give you the meds." Tony said helping the exhausted teen up. When they made it to the room peter was already half asleep. "I'm gonna need you to stay awake to take your meds" tony told him. He laid peter on the bed and quickly gave him the meds so he could go to sleep. As soon as he heard soft snoring, Tony rushed around the house to get things for the sick teen. When he gathered all the supplies he took it up to the kids room and put everything in its place. He wrote a note and put it on the nightstand that said, 'water is next to this note, bucket is next to the bed and if you need me tell Friday to alert me.' He was about to walk out of the room but he turned to see peter. Tony knew he was a good kid and he was kinda glad his stubbornness was rubbing off on him.

#peter parker sickfic #peter parker sickfics #peter parker #steve rogers #captiain america #natasha romanoff #black widow #tony stark #iron dad #iron man #i love you 3000 #marvel sickfic #marvel #mcu #spider son #spiderman

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irlweissschnee · 6 years

Text

Sleepy Talk

A/N - Waddup your favorite just wrote some more Spot x Reader that sounds alot like the last one she wrote but that is okay. I did so much typing in one sitting so in about 6 or so hours I had 1,500 and I just recently typed over 1,000 more and BLAM! Here you go! Enjoy!

Word Count - 2.6k words

T/W - none

“Seriously, I don’t see why it’s such a big deal.” You rolled your eyes at Jack, who was making a big deal out of nothing

“I don’t want ya goin’ to Brooklyn again! Spot Conlon is not a safe person to be around.”

“I thought you two were friends?” You questioned

“We are, but I think even he knows he ain’t stable enough to watch after ya. Plus, the newsies they’a might not know who you are. Please, if you go, at least be careful.” He was not happy with his little sister, his only family, going to another part of New York where he couldn’t have complete watch over you. You smiled at his care, but didn’t push him any further. He was letting you go, but only if you were ‘careful’. You jumped up before making him stumble when you gave him a hug. You then proceed to run out the door, to say you were excited was an understatement. You were ecstatic. You were going to see some of your absolute best friends, and one that you hoped would be a bit more.

“Love you Jack! Thank you!” was all Jack heard before you ran out the door of the lodge.

You were standing in the line for the bakery down the street from your next destination. You bought a dozen rolls before give up your coins. You grabbed the basket and headed down towards the bridge that would lead you to where you needed to be. You jumped up onto the metal platform, before jumpily skipping to the other. You may have gotten a few weird looks, but you didn’t mind. You just wanted to go to your second home. You got to the other side rather quickly. That was when you stopped acting so bouncy, you didn’t want to get glares from the people who lived in Brooklyn. You knew that the newises wouldn’t mind, but you wanted to keep some presentability. You only had to walk a few more blocks until you made it to the lodging house. When you made it to the steps, the newsies on the outskirts of the buildings tipped their hats to you, knowing you were welcome because of how often you come. Some did give you looks though, which preceded to make the nearby newsies to whisper in their ears. They then tipped their cap to you. You smiled at them before offering them half a roll each, wanting to have enough for everyone. They all came up to where you decided to sit on the porch. They thanked you genuinely. That was when you heard a familer voice.

“Well Y/N, what’a doin’ he’a?” The accent was thick. You saw in front of you one of your favorite newsies.

“Well hey there Danny! How have ya been?” He smiled at your non-existent accent.

“Just about to head inside to see Spot, wanna come with?” He wiggled his eyebrows, you rolled your eyes, then nodding. You stood up and turned around to head up the rest of the stairs to head into the building. Danny opened the door for you, bowing to you like royalty. When you walked past him into the room, you stole his hat from his head and walked in. He gave you a chuckle before grabbing it from your hand. When he grabbed his hat, he also grabbed your hand. He gave you a spin, making you giggle. He headed over to the couch in the main room. You followed him and then plopped down next to him. He then tossed his arm around your shoulder before shaking you, laughing at the way you became shocked. You two sat like that, talking about things in each other's respective borough. That was when you heard the sound of steps coming from the room above you two headed toward the stairs.

“Oh gosh, guess who you are gonna hav’ta deal with now.” Danny looked at you, smiling. He could always sense that you had a liking to Spot, but he never really brought it up.

“Awh, talkin’ bad ‘bout me? Why would ya’ do that?” You looked up and saw your best friend, Spot Conlon. You stood up from where you were sitting with Danny. You began to smirk, knowing you and Spot would begin to go back and forth for a minute. He came through the doorway and saw you instantly, spawning a smirk of his own on his face.

“Well Y/N, nice to see ya again!” He walked forwards and gave you what you thought would be a normal hug, but instead he picked you up at spun you around. You were shocked and you swore you saw Danny give you a knowing look, one to say ‘he likes you too’ but you knew he wouldn't mean that. You never told anyone about you liking Spot more than a friendly way, but maybe it was obvious that you did. When he let you down, you shuffled a little bit, trying to regain your balance. Spot then walked over to the couch and sat down. He patted the area next to him, offering you a place to sit. You proceeded to sit next to him. He did the same thing that Danny did when you sat down, he put his arm around your shoulders. He squeezed your arms before talking to Danny next to you. You swore you saw him glance at your, you could feel your face getting only slightly warmer. You didn’t let that bother you though. Before you knew what was happening, Spot began to talk to you.

“So, has ya brother been botherin’ you about comin’ here?” He looked at you, waiting for an answer. You continued to look straight ahead when you were talking.

“Yeah, talking about how he ‘can’t watch over me’ when I am over here in Brooklyn’. I swear he is like a hawk. But I love ‘im, I kinda have to.” You chuckled, looking over in the direction of Spot. He gave a small grin before laughing. He brought a smile to your face. You were about to let him speak before you remembered the gifts you had.

“Oh! Did you want a roll? I bought them from this bakery back in Manhattan. I already gave some halves to the newsies outside but I think there are some left.” You stood up and reached into the basket you placed near the door. You grabbed two roll halves, knowing you already gave Danny one. You turned back to the boys on the couch. You tossed one roll at Spot. He caught it, of course. He thanked you before munching on it. You sat back down and began nibbling on the bread. You heard boys rushing in followed by a sudden crack of thunder. You never saw any clouds on your way over here, but there it was, pouring down rain. You saw boys coming it, trying to get out of the rain. It was later in the day, so most of the boys had already sold all their papers. Most of the boys came into the room you, Spot and Danny were in. They all gathered around the couch, talking to each other about how sudden the downpour was. You and all the boys sat there for an hour or two. It got dark out quickly, meaning it was getting later. It was still raining out, meaning you would be soaking if you tried walking home then, you would be soaking wet by the time you got to the Brooklyn bridge. You grew tired, though. You thought of just napping on the couch like you did occasionally, but you noticed that Spot had seen you yawn the past three times. He leaned in and whispered in your ear.

“Hey, Y/N, hun, you gettin’ sleepy?” You nodded. You couldn’t lie. You were exhausted. Spot stood up and excused you both. You could barely get up yourself. You nearly fell over from fatigue before Spot caught you. He picked you up, getting some looks from the other boys on the floor, but the look on your face gave them the reason you were practically tumbling in Spot’s arms. He placed you down when you got to the first step. He didn’t want to fall, no matter how much he was ‘muscular and macho’, he didn’t trust himself with carrying you up some stairs. He held your arm as you two slowly yet surely made it up the stairs. You thought you would be resting in an extra bunk, but you were actually led to Spot’s room. You started to feel uneasy, but then you remembered that Spot was never going to force you to do anything. He could sense you getting kind of tense as you passed the bunk rooms.

“I’m gonna have ya sleep in my room because you need as much rest as youse can get, and them boys ain’t the quietest.” You were reassured. You continued to try and keep your stance and make it to Spot’s room.

Woah.

When you said Spot’s room in your head, you became nervous. You spoke up.

“Where are you gonna sleep?” Your voice was quiet, but he heard you.

“My bed is pretty big, we can both fit. Unless youse uncomfortable with it.” He began to stutter his words.

“No no, it’s fine. I shouldn’t keep you from sleep,” You yawned, “it’s your room anyways.” You got flustered at the fact you were about to sleep in the same fucking bed as the guy you slightly-but-you-don’t-really-know-kinda liked. It wouldn’t mean anything, you two were just gonna sleep and wake up and then you guys would hang out, of course. You made it to his room. The room looked the same as the bunk rooms, but smaller and had only one bed, Spot’s. Spot led you to his bed and put you under the covers. He left the room for a minute before coming back and getting underneath the sheets as well. He turned off the light near the bed and hugged you tight. Your smile was the last thing you remember before falling asleep.

Back in Manhattan, Jack was going mad. You weren’t home, the rain was hitting hard, and you were in Brooklyn, the place where he wanted you least. Once the rain died down, Jack was off. He was going to head straight to the lodge in the heart of Brooklyn. He knew that if he couldn’t find you, he was damn sure going to get Spot on it. He ran as fast as he could, across the bridge in record time. He saw the building in the distance and he began running even faster, if that was even possible. He ran up the stairs two at a time. The lights in the main room were still on so he knew someone would be there to help him. He knocked on the door, irritated yet worried. The door opened and he saw a newsies around his height, maybe a few inches shorter.

“Have you seen a girl, about yea’ height,” He raised his hand to show him around how tall you were, “she has H/C hair about this short.” He again used his hand to signify how long your hair was. The information provided seemed to have rung a bell to someone inside.

“Are you talkin’ ‘bout Y/N?” Jack looked back to see someone he didn’t know, but he must’ve known you. It was Danny, but Jack didn’t know.

“She went upstairs with Spot an hour or so ago, went to bed I think.” Danny looked towards the stair casually, but Jack was practically fuming. Jack dashed towards the stairs, upset that you were with Spot of all people, and the fact that you guys were alone made him even angrier. He could hear from downstairs the familiar voice downstairs yell slightly.

“Last room on the left!” Jack looked down the hall and headed for it. He opened the door to see the faint light of the moon shining on the bed. He saw you and Spot laying rather close. He was glad you were okay, but was absolutely angry and the lack of space in between you two. Spot must have been a light sleeper because he woke up immediately. Spot jumped out of the bed, wanting to explain why he and Jack’s sister were laying so close in his bed. Jack pulled Spot into the corner of room. As much as Jack wanted to soak the absolute hell out of Spot, Jack couldn’t let you be in on it, so he just sent Spot out to the hallway. Spot was rather annoyed that he was being bossed around, on his turf of all places. Spot did what Jack said, as much as he wanted to go against it, he wanted you to sleep as well as you could. Spot walked out of the room, quietly closing the door. Jack didn’t want you to wake up because he could practically sense what you would do. You would become angry at the fact that Jack didn’t trust you or you would be sad that he came all the way to Brooklyn because you had done something that had deemed you untrustworthy. He wanted neither. He just wanted to protect his baby sister at all costs, and seeing you and Spot so buddy-buddy didn’t help yours or his case. Jack began pacing around the room, thinking of what to say when all of a sudden, he heard it.

“I,” there was a pause, “love you too.” Jack knew of your sleep-talking habits, but usually it was random words, one at a time. This was practically a full sentence. You began sleep-talking more, but it seemed less like you were sleeping, and more like you were trying to talk to someone, yet you were unconscious and unable to backup what you were saying. More sentances seemed to come out of your mouth.

“Spot, I,” pause, “really like you.” Jack became more attentive to what you were mumbling.

“I understand,” pause, “if you don’t feel the same.” You fixed the covers before speaking again.

“Had crush,” more silence, “long time.” He put the pieces together. You liked Spot, but he didn’t know yet. Maybe it was fate that he didn’t hear it, but Jack couldn’t just walk out casually, he needed to let Spot know. Jack tiptoed over to the door before walking out into the hall to talk to Spot about what he just heard. He didn’t want to hide anything, but he didn’t want to have to explain anything but the basics. He looked Spot right in the eyes and told him.

“She likes you Spot, she said she loves ya.” Jack then walked back downstairs without even explaining what he had just said. You...liked him? Spot was both confused and excited. You liked him! Spot had this new feeling, he was feeling weird. He didn’t know that people could like him more than a friend. He always felt like he was just a leader figure. He walked back into the room where the bed was, he laid back down in the same place he was laying before. He tried to act natural, but when he heard about what you said in your sleep, he didn’t know what to think or believe.

Spot fell asleep an hour later, still thinking about what you had been talking about. You woke up after Spot was rustling in the comforter. You were just as confused as him, but for different reasons. You were in the guy who you kinda likes’ bed. You tried to roll back over, but as soon as you were about shut your eyes, he started to sleep talk, but in whole sentences.

“Love you too,” There was silence.

“Y/N.”

#spot conlon #spot conlon x reader #spot conlon imagine #newsies #newsies musical #newsies x reader #fansies #tommy bracco

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chinxino5-blog · 6 years

Text

who are you

suckles oneshot warnings: mentions of being drunk, coarse language. 2268 words

note: sorry this is literally so trashy. it was better in my head. really bad when i edited. i dont have the time to re-edit tho or rewrite - it’s just bad quality. but i still hope it can be of some enjoyment.

next oneshot will be better i promise.

Mason’s head was pounding. And by pounding, he meant it was splitting seven different ways and simultaneously imploding in on itself.

“Urghh.” The moan of pain slipped out of his dry mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut tighter. Light from somewhere was filling the room he laid in and it threw more kindling on the fire of his agony.

Unfortunately, his mind refused to let him resume his slumber, only becoming more and more conscious with every the moment he laid splayed out on likely Toby’s couch, if he remembered the end of his night correctly: far too late and far too drunk. Seeing as there was no possible way he’d be able to open his eyes painlessly for a number of long minutes, he allowed his senses and very broken memory to fill him in on what had happened in the previous twelve hours.

He remembered drinking with Cam until very late. It had been John’s birthday… no- it had been Smitty’s! And with his dumb friends it was tradition on someone’s birthday to get absolutely fuckin’ smashed.

So unsurprisingly, they did.

From the celebrations, the cheering, the dancing: after losing count of how many drinks he’d had, his memory only seemed to be able to catch bits and pieces of the rest of the night. Smitty was definitely sitting in John’s lap at one point, and the images of Cam downing shot after shot across the table flashed behind his eyes. He knew himself well enough to guess he had been doing exactly the same. Other than that, he recalled little to nothing: only climbing back in through Toby’s window and collapsing wherever he deemed comfortable in his drunken haze.

Trying to clear his head and sharpen out the blurry memories was steadily becoming more and more difficult so the Australian stopped himself, letting out a heavy sigh and turning his face more into the cushioning beneath his head.

As he shifted he felt the sticky skin of his back peel away from the leather couch, only to resettle in a sweaty mess of discomfort.

Huh.

He’d also lost his shirt sometime during the night too, it seemed.

But since when did Toby have a leather couch?

… Mason gave this another few minutes of careless though before furrowing his brows. Toby didn’t have a leather couch. He’d spent weeks living in that house! He knew there wasn’t a single bit of leather furniture in there – so how on Earth was Mason laying on a leather couch?

He regretted opening his eyes instantly. Even just a crack. The brightness poured gasoline into his head, flames erupting outwards.

“Aw, fuck,” he groaned, throat feeling red-raw and just as agonizing as his head.

But no matter the pain, Mason did not like the idea of being not in Toby’s house. So with the limited energy he had, he lifted his hands to cover his eyes and lessened the pain of opening them. He blinked.

This was officially the worst hangover he’d ever had.

Peering through his fingers, it was very easy to confirm he was, indeed, not in Toby’s living room. He wasn’t even in Toby’s house. Had his headache not been so consuming, he probably would have been a lot more concerned. But with this level of agony, all he wanted was a glass of water and some painkillers.

He sat upright, peeling his hot skin from the sticky couch and cringing at both the feeling and the headache. A pair of black skinny jeans were laying on the floor, one leg still caught on one of his feet and he mentally thanked his intoxicated-self for having the common sense not to fall asleep in them.

In his exhaustion, he took a moment to glance around at the room he laid in.

There was a very casual, careless atmosphere to it, not that clean but also not grossly untidy. Another brown leather couch sat beside the one he occupied, both angled to face a big screen that sat on the wall above a cabinet that showed off several different consoles and a rack of coloured controllers.

There was a window either side of the screen, the left one wide open (obviously having been Mason’s entry point the night previous). He wondered for a minute what kind of idiot left their windows unlocked and unalarmed, before swinging his legs off the couch and standing up. Hands on his hips, he stretched up and yawned widely.

The little wooden coffee table had a few magazines and an empty bowl, and his toes curled in the fluffy carpet that covered the floor of the comfy room. The walls were painted a soft grey, matching the white of the carpet. But Mason could tell his attention was not gonna be able to stay with the room for much longer.

Sitting back down and kicking his foot out of his jeans, he picked them up and breathed a sigh of relief to find his phone and wallet still in the pockets.

Friday. 22:03.

john but not really john: mason come home soon and let yourself in

john but not really john: the doors unlocked

Saturday. 00:42.

john but not really john: mason youre gonna die if you keep drinking

john but not really john: you and fitz come back here

john but not really john: come on you fucking dumbass check your phone

Saturday. 00:53.

Missed call from john but not really john.

Incoming call from Missed call from john but not really john.

Saturday. 1:39.

john but not really john: mason. home. now.

zuck my ass: oksy muuuuuuuuuuuiuimm

zuck my ass: hheeheh

john but not really john: is fitz with you

zuck my ass: fitzfitzzyyy is wih dniittttyyyyyyy

john but not really john: okay are you coming now

zuck my ass: eslkinf nowee!!

zuck my ass: vlinmbing in urr wondpw!@!!@

Saturday. 2:31.

john but not really john: where the fuck are you

john but not really john: i hate you. let yourself in if you get here

john but not really john: im going to sleep

john but not really john: text me in the morning.

Oh.

Toby was gonna be pissed with him. He didn’t remember answering a call at all. Well… He didn’t remember anything to do with his phone in general. He definitely remembered climbing in a window though. It just wasn’t the right window.

Whoops.

The pounding in his head was only getting louder and heavier and he was not ready to call Toby for help without getting some sort of medicine and some damn water. He just hoped the owner of this house was either asleep, or not home.

The second he was in the hallway, he noticed just how silent the place was. There wasn’t a single sound. No ticking of clocks, no sounds from plumbing or electricity. The lights were all off but the morning was bright enough to make things clear. Everything seemed very still and calm.

Perhaps the eeriness of it made him so cautious as he stepped down the hall, staying on the balls of his feet in fear of making any sort of sound. All he needed was water and painkillers. Fortunately, the kitchen was just at the end of the hall, a couple of dried clean dishes in a rack on the sink and a bowl of fruit on the bench.

Mason felt no regret in running the tap cold and lapping at the water like a kid. The cool liquid quietened the clanging in his ears and he sighed, standing upright and wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist.

Now painkillers…

He pulled open drawers, finding utensils, baking instruments, bags, bowls, cups and mugs; everything a kitchen would have. But he didn’t come across any sort of medicine. In his search, he forgot that he wasn’t really supposed to be in this house.

“Hey!” The shout scared Mason out of his skin, the scrawny boy jumping in fear and smacking his head on the door of the overhead cabinet.

“Shit!” he cried out, gripping his head with both hands and turning to face the man in the doorway. He took in messy brown hair, sharp dark eyes and the metal baseball bat held tightly with both hands and staggered back a few steps. “Who the fuck are you!”

“Who the fuck am I!? This is my house!” The combination of complete confusion, panic and fear smacked them both in the face as the homeowner took two steps forward and pointed the bat at Mason. “Who the fuck are you!” Mason stumbled back until he met the counter, eyes wide and fearful at the idea that this guy might actually fuck him up with the metal bat.

The guy waited, bat still held out but making no motion of actually attacking the random stranger in his kitchen. “Uhh…” Mason glanced around the room, eyes wide and fearful. Thoughts of how exactly he’d escape the room ran through his head in the chance this guy actually tried to hit him. “Mason?” He said his own name with confusion and after another long moment, the baseball bat lowered to point to the floor and the homeowner lifted a hand to his face with a sigh.

“Mason.” The guy spoke with a tone of defeat, realising that the boy was completely harmless. “Why the fuck are you in my house?” he asked, voice far more calm and flat. It was thick with lethargy, and he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and finger.

With his heartrate lowering back to a humane level, Mason took a deep breath. Unsurprisingly, there was no explainable answer to the guy’s question and he didn’t even try to stop the dumb sounding: “Uhh…” from drifting off his tongue.

The guy blinked, brows raised. A moment passed and dark eyes dropped from Mason’s confused face to the rest of him. “Why are you naked?”

Mason’s eyes widened, falling to look at himself in surprise. “Oh fuck,” he said, the biting cold of the room suddenly making a lot more sense. When he looked back up at the guy, he ran his fingers through his hair and tried to make some resemblance of a smile. To relieve the awkwardness? Maybe to come off as friendly? He didn’t know his own intentions, but he knew his headache was getting more and more murderous by the second. “Hey, uh. Do you have any painkillers?”

Another moment. He took a step forward and Mason jumped in alarm, fearing the worst. Instead, the bat was placed on the kitchen counter and the guy ignored Mason, walking to the furthest overhead cabinet. From inside, he pulled a marker and a box of painkillers. He pulled a glass from the drawer beneath, filling it with water and placing it on the bench beside the stranger.

He didn’t give away anything with his expression, other than exhaustion in the bags beneath his eyes. Mason flinched back when a pale hand held itself open in front of him, waiting. Cautiously, he mirrored the action, trying not to react when the man took hold of the back of his wrist and easily popped two pills from the packet into the palm of his hand.

He closed his fingers around them, confusion growing when the hand slipped up further to grip his forearm, uncapping the marker. But something about the guy encouraged him to stay quiet and not bother him with questions. He just waited, soft tip inking numbers along his arm.

“Door’s out there. If I hear you banging around in my house any longer I’ll bury you.” Mason listened in surprise, hand finally released and feeling cold in contrast of the warm fingers that lifted to card through soft-looking brown hair. “Text me and tell me what happened in a few hours when I can actually process shit.”

The ten-digit number made his skin tingle and Mason blinked. The sound of the man’s voice was nice to listen to: deep and rounded. It was unlike other voices he’d heard before and he barely paid attention to what he was telling him, too focused on the sound of his voice. “Uhh, sure. Okay. Thanks.”

He took a step back. The dark eyes scanned him again.

“D’you have clothes?” Curious, still sleepy. Mason glanced down at his nudity again, mouth opening to offer an answer only to be stopped by the guy’s hand held up to face him. “Y’know what? Never mind. I don’t actually give a fuck. Just drink that and go home, uhh… Marson?”

He snorted. “Mason,” he corrected and the guy nodded, waving his hand vaguely.

“Yeah. Mason.”

With that, the homeowner nodded and walked past Mason and out into the hall. He watched him go, confused and stunned and slightly amused in his hungover. The painkillers went down his throat easy and the water helped considerably in refreshing his hot head. Rinsing the cup and sitting it in the sink, he returned to the living room, snatched up his jeans and opened up the phone app.

A sigh greeted him when he put the phone to his ear and he couldn’t help the immature grin on his face at his friend’s dissatisfaction. “Hey Toby,” he said, pinning the phone between his ear and his shoulder. He staggered, trying to yank the jeans up over his feet.

“Where are you?” Tired and already fed up.

Mason giggled. “I climbed into some guy’s house through his window.”

“For fuck’s sake, Zuckles. You’re kidding”

“Nah.”

note: again! sorry for the trash-tier writing. ill try improve on it when i have something better plot and better planned to get out here

#suckles #suckles fic #suckles fanfic #swaggersouls #zuckles #not romantic #gbg #gbg fic #gbg fanfic #gay baby gang #idk man #its trashy and just a what the fuck fic bt here you go

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herowy · 4 years

Text

Dating Headcanon 3 + Scenario

Jenny

A total tsundere.

Most likely you would suggest going out in the first place.

Acts nonchalant with it but is actually really nervous.

She takes things slow in the relationship because she hasn't dated before and is just clueless about it.

Blushes a lot.

The type to want to hold your hand but is too shy to ask and will keep on debating over if she should. She misses the chance and is then pissed about it.

She's straightforward and blunt almost rude with people she doesn't care or relaxed with but with you, she is a complete mess and stuttering fool.

There are many times she wants to compliment you but is too shy and prideful to say them.

She would curse off people who are staring or making you feel uncomfortable, and if they brave enough to challenge her she'll get physical without a thought.

Gets into a lot fight in general and always have a few scratches and bruises on her.

She would be hesitant about dating at first because of all the violence and doesn't want to get you involved. The last thing she wants is you getting hurt. Of course, she'll never say that.

If you're really adamant on staying with her you'll have to really show it because then she'll just keep denying you and distancing herself.

If you do manage, swear on her life she'll keep you safe and as far from her brawls as possible. She might become more rational and actually think twice before getting into conflict to ensure your safety.

Your gonna have to be really patient with her since she doesn't express her emotions very well.

Hates overcrowded places, like really hates it, despises it.

Probably might see one of her enemies there or something.

She's not a romantic but does try and they usually end up failing.

Remembers the little things you like but acts like she doesn't care and tries to be very subtle with it.

If you unconsciously mention food or craving you want she'll pretend not to care but then a few minutes later or when your not looking she'll get it for you.

Not the type to initiate public affection and so you would have to make a move if you want any. Even then she'll try to avoid it but not because she hates it but because she's just really nervous and shy.

She's a private person so she prefers to be intimate when you two are alone.

The further the relationship develops she would start to show more affection and comfort but privately.

Baby steps like holding your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist and tiny compliments but all this while not looking at you.

She has a foul mouth but tried to lighten it with you. Tries.

There will be times when she's down in the dumps and will want to hold you close to her. These are the times where she's most vulnerable and needs you to be there.

Does get jealous quite easily and even over the little things but once you question her about it she will stutter out denial as quickly as possible.

Just sulks when she's jealous, depending on what or who she's jealous about it might get physical.

She prefers isolated places but if you really insist on going somewhere a little crowded then she'll follow grumpily.

Likes animals so probably the zoo or aquarium.

~~~

The night was as lively as ever, colourful streamers and small lanterns hunged and glowed vibrantly across the pathway. Stalls were situated at every corner emitting the smell of fried food and cotton candy.

The overflowing crowd continued to sway endlessly and voices overlapped one another with wild laughter and hollers.

If there was one thing she hated the most that would overcrowded places or loud and annoying bundles of people in one area. The grabble beneath them could barely be seen.

She gave out a low grunt while being dragged through the hoard by a delicate hand.

If it wasn't because of her lover and his doe-shaped eyes and honeyed voice begging her to come with him to a festival gathering, she would never, repeat, never come near this place.

"Come on jenn~ It'll be fun!." With his hands clasped together into a praying gesture.

" Ugh."

"Pleassseee Jenny." He closed the gap between them shouldering next to hers and giving the sweetest smile.

"There's nothing even fun out there. Just the same shit every year. Loud people and ball throwing crap." She grunted and stepped back slightly flustered at how close he was. She also didn't mention it being dangerous in the chances of passing by one of her enemies or them seeing her with him.

"No it's not. It will be fun if you actually give it a try. Come on, please. We've never gone to any festivals TOGETHER before. Besides, it'll make for a great date!"

"D date!?" Her face became red.

"Yeah, a date. Don't you want to?"

"…w well…it's not like…I don't w want to." She averted her eyes.

"…hmmm." He gawked at her inquisitively like he's searching for something.

"…"

"Ughh! Fine, let's go. Since your being so damn annoying and stop staring at me like that!" She blurted in defeat.

"Really!? Yay!!" He cheered.

Jenny grabbed her denim jacket and shoved it onto her self angrily. Damn him for being so cute!

And that's why they're now here.

Being dragged by the hands of her lover and making their way through the pathway as smooth as possible.

She could feel the excitement from how hastily he was hauling her.

A few seconds later she heard his voice saying something but it was blocked out by the screams of the crowd.

"What?"

"Lo…mm.."

She tsked. Next minute the hand attached on her arm was gone.

"Wah hey!"

Jenny called for his name and expected for him to reply but nothing…

She started to panic. Aggressively pushing through the hoard of people and cursing at them to move. She managed to squeeze into a more spacious area and searched for his figure. Turning back and forth and desperately roared for his name.

She was really worried now. What if he got hurt? What if she can't find him? What if…someone found him?

Her heart clawed at her chest in anxiousness and her body started to sweat at the acceleration

Trying to calm herself. She pulled out her phone and frantically pressing onto his contact number.

Ring…ring…ring…ring…ring…rin-

"Fuck! Why isn't he answering!? Fuck for fuck sakes!"

She was pissed. Very pissed.

Running through each row of stalls and pushing at people.

Where the fuck is he?!

She sprinted to the gates where the stalls ended and it was the ocean.

Dashed down the grabble steps and onto the beach where the ocean was.

The scratchy sounds from the grinding of sand against her red converse.

Running through the shore and making her way to the end of the beach which would seem absurd. The beach is more than 100 feet long. She didn't care though, she just wanted to find him.

Then she came to a halt midway. A familiar figure. She prayed to god it was him.

The figure turned around and with a shocked expression.

"Jenny!" He cried cheerfully.

"Ha ha ha…ha…" Panting out of exhaustion and the rapid pulse of her heartbeat.

"Thank goodness your finally here. I was worried that you wouldn't come here. I was gonna call-"

"Fuck sakes!"

"Huh?"

"What the fuck were you doing?!"

"Wh what are you talking about?"

"Why the fuck weren't you answering your fucking phone!?"

"Wah, my phone…oh, i-"

"Do you know how fucking worried I was!?"

"…"

He gaped and alarmed at her outburst. She was breathing heavily, sweat trailing from her forehead and her red hair sticking out everywhere. A complete mess.

"I was fucking running around for an hour trying to fucking find you! I called your phone and you didn't even fucking answer! Why the fuck even have a phone when you won't even fucking answer people's calls!?"

"…sorry…" His eyes fell down to his shoes and held a sad expression. It was like a child being scolded.

"Haaa…" She sighed and turned her face away from his.

A long moment of silence between them. The tension was thick and heavy.

"Jenny…im really sorry…I didn't mean to worry you. I got distracted by one of the stalls during the way. When I turned back…you were gone. It's my fault. I thought it was a good idea to wait here at the beach because it wasn't crowded and we can meet up together...but I didn't think…" He confessed with guilt in his voice and still not being able to look at her.

"Why didn't you answer my call?"

"I couldn't hear it during the crowd…"

She sighed again.

"I'm really sorry Jenny. I was planning on calling you though…" Biting his lips and felt a slight tremble, tears pricking at his eyes and slowly sliding down his soft cheeks.

Her eyes widened at the sight. His tears. He was crying. Her lover was crying. Jenny made her lover cry.

Her heart clawed at her again. Like before but it was more painful this time. It was piercing at her. Stabbing her through the front. Excruciatingly pain that made her hands welled into a fist and white.

"H hey…"

"…"

"Haaa look i-"

"…"

"I'm…sorry…"

"Huh?"

Jenny wanted to hold him. Embrace him entirely against her chest. Wipe those tears and protect him. Instead, she made him cry.

"I'm the one who should be sorry. I…I should have stayed closer with you and…I shouldn't have yelled at you either. Sorry."

"No no. It's clearly my fault, stupid of me to get so easily distracted and then get lost like that. I was stupid.

" Hey don't say shit like that! Your not…your not stupid. Look, it doesn't matter who's fault it is anymore. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that."

"…"

Witnessing the sadness in his expression and tears that held its place. Swallowing her pride. Jenny closed their distance and hugged his fragile-like body.

"Damn it. Hey, hey look at me."

He slowly looked up at her amber eyes.

She carefully wiped his tears with her thumb and then firmly held his waist and head against her own body.

He leaned in with comfort.

"I really am sorry Jenny." His voice slightly muffled against her shoulders.

"Stop apologising already."

"But i-"

She cuts him off by tilting his chin upwards and sealing his lips with hers. Her tongue caressing his. He was surprised at her boldness. She doesn't usually initiate the first kiss, especially in public.

A few seconds later they leaned back with a thread of saliva connecting their mouths. Panting for air. Staring at each other for god knows how long.

Jenny finally breaks out of the trance of his enchanting orbs and realises what was happening. An immediate rush of heat flooded her face and quickly lets go of him.

"Ahem…that uhh th that wa wasn't supposed to happen…" She coughed.

He frozed his gaze at her stuttering and then giggled.

"Hahaha."

"Huh?"

"Don't worry Jenny, I get it. Thank you for comforting me"

"Wah h hey! It's not what you t think! I just did that so…so you would stop your cr crying! I don't actually care for you…"

"You were worried about me crying that's why you did that, right? So, you do care for me!"

"No, I don't fucking care! You were just being annoying and an eyesore!

" But you hugged me, wiped my tears and even kissed me."

"Shut up I only did that because it was in the moment."

"Hmmm just say you love me already."

"Shut the fuck up. No I fucking don't!"

Jenny was fuming with redness and frustrated by his persistence. She really wanted to shut him up again and his teasing.

"Haha, I love you too Jenny." He flashed a sweet smile.

By God was that long. Since it was only Jenny I'm writing for I decided to make it into headcanon plus scenario.

Honestly, reading back at them I feel bad for my lack of attention towards Mimi and Emily. Compared to the others I didn't write as much. They were my first OCS to start off with and I'm really fond of them.

I'll give them more writing next time to even it out.

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magic-magpie · 7 years

Text

Say You Love Me

Hey, so I wrote a lil’ UsUk oneshot. ^^ You can find it (and my other fanfics) on my Fanfiction account - AA Addict. Although, I did make that account when I was eleven meaning that most of its content is actual trash. I did a review of my first ever fanfic... I might post it here. I’m good at cringe reviews, but only when the cringe is my own cringe.

It’s 4,304 words, just to let ya know.

“Hey, Artie?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“Likewise.”

“...Aren’t you ever gonna say it back?”

Arthur slumped down into his chair, head in hands. Alfred F. Jones, his American boyfriend, had just stormed out of the apartment after an argument, leaving it feeling rather large, empty, and quiet.

It was an argument over the stupidest of things. Honestly, who cared if Arthur had never uttered the words ‘I love you’?

Alfred did, apparently. And to an extent, so did Arthur.

The first time Alfred had declared his love was five months ago, after four months of dating. They had just come back from dinner at a swish restaurant, and after a round of sweet sex Alfred had blurted it out – ‘I think I love you’. He’d blushed, laid his head on Arthur’s chest so that they weren’t maintaining eye contact, then said in a bit of a whisper, ‘Actually, I definitely love you’. Arthur remembered feeling like he was higher than Cloud Nine, a giddy sensation arising within him and his heart pounding a million beats per minute. He didn’t like to admit it, but he was fairly certain he had abandonment issues (probably due to his past relationships), and hearing Alfred proclaim his love had given him full assurance that Alfred was the one.

At that point, Arthur definitely loved Alfred too. He was happiest when with him, not to mention he felt safe and secure, even when they were doing completely wild activities such as skydiving and bungee-jumping. However, he just couldn’t say it. The words got stuck in his throat every time he tried to say them, he choked on them, his lips refused to allow them to form. He wanted so badly to say it, but failed whenever he tried. And so he only said words akin to ‘likewise’ in response to Alfred’s frequent declarations of love. He felt terrible whenever he did so, for Alfred’s sunny disposition would always become slightly clouded, but what could he do? Alfred had seemed to understand, until now.

“Why do I need to say it back? I’m sure you understand what I mean perfectly.”

“I DO, but it’d still be nice to hear you say it.”

“It’d be nice to hear me say a lot of things, but I won’t say them, will I?”

“Come on! What’s so bad about saying ‘I love you’?!”

“Nothing’s BAD about saying it, I just don’t want to!”

“...You don’t want to?”

“Exactly. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to finish this embroidery.”

“Say it.”

“For God’s sake Alfred!”

“Say it!”

“No, alright?”

“Just say it, PLEASE! It’s not HARD!”

“It is bloody well hard, I’ll have you know!”

“It’s not hard to say the truth, Arthur! Unless it’s-”

“You know perfectly well that it’s the truth, Alfred, so don’t even go there.”

“Then SAY IT!”

“Life’s not Hollywood, Alfred! We don’t need to give extravagant declarations of love in order to show that it’s there!”

“Come on, just SAY it! For me, then! Say it for the Hollywood sap who’s stuck by you!”

“You don’t get to order me to say anything, git. I don’t want to say it, so get that through your thick skull.”

“...Fine. Later, loser.”

“WHERE are you going?”

“Takin’ a walk. Love ya. Even if you don’t return the feeling.”

Arthur would never forget that expression Alfred had. Disappointment, sadness, anger, all in one. Tears had welled up in his blue eyes.

The first time either of them had made the other cry.

He willed himself not to burst into tears, but it was hard. They’d argued before, but never to the extent that either of them had walked out. The last time he’d had a partner walk out on him, they’d split up the next day. The time before that, his partner had cheated on him. And the first time it happened, he’d never seen the man again. He’d never loved any of them the way he loved Alfred, but it had still hurt.

A wave of panic crashed down on him. What if Alfred did the same?

No, Alfred couldn’t possibly leave him. He’d said ‘I love you’, for crying out loud! And even when walking out he’d reiterated it! There was no way Alfred would break up with him.

Right?

Horrible, terrible images flashed through his mind; Alfred chatting up some bloke at the pub, taking him to a sleazy motel, hands that caressed Arthur’s body tugging at the other man’s belt instead; Alfred deleting all the sneaky pictures he’d taken of Arthur and sending him a break-up text; Alfred never contacting him again; the worst image, however, had to be that awful, ghastly one where Alfred, in his anger and despair, ran out onto the road without looking both left and right and was thrown into the air like a rag doll by a speeding car, dead before he hit the ground.

And that was the image that wouldn’t leave his mind.

Taken over by an overwhelming sense of fear, he reached for his phone and brought up Alfred’s number.

-Alfred?

-Are you there?

He waited with bated breath, his heart in his mouth. Deep down he knew it was stupid to be worrying like this, but there was a minute chance of his imagination becoming reality.

“Come on, reply...” he willed. Arthur didn’t have an iPhone, meaning that he didn’t know whether Alfred was typing or not, so he just hoped against hope that Alfred was either typing, or hadn’t checked his phone.

Suddenly, his notification tone rang out and the screen lit up, informing him that Alfred had responded. Relief washed all over him. Alfred was safe. He opened the text.

-Yeah

His heart sank a little. None of those blasted emoticons or developed replies characteristic of Alfred.

-Good. Don’t die.

Alfred’s response came a couple of seconds later, like he was eagerly awaiting each text too.

-Er what

-You heard me. Don’t bloody die.

-Hella random much

-Out of context, more like.

-Can i get context

-Wait im suppoed t b mad at u

-Its hard

-How dya doit

Arthur was trying to respond with ‘Look, I’m sorry, come back home and we’ll make up, how about that? I’ll take you to McDonalds too, if you want.’, but his insistence at texting with brilliant spelling, grammar, and diction meant Alfred could get his texts in much quicker.

-Ok imma stop txtinf now

-Off to b mad

-Love ya bye

Arthur quickly pressed send, hoping that Alfred wouldn’t be able to resist texting him back, but it was no use. Five minutes passed, then ten, then fifteen, and before he knew it he’d been staring at the screen for half an hour.

He wasn’t texting back.

Slumping back down into his chair, he was mildly surprised to find that his cheeks were wet with tears. Fuck, that’s not supposed to happen. He furiously wiped them away then glared at his phone. Just who the hell did Alfred think he was, reducing him to blasted tears?

But I made him cry first. Isn’t payback grand?

God, Arthur’s anger wasn’t even justified. It was confusing, sitting there seething and upset when he had no cause to be. He was the one who refused to tell Alfred that he loved him. Alfred made sure that he said the three words at least once each day, usually accompanied by a sweet, chaste kiss. He had every right to be irritated with Arthur, even if Arthur hated it. Stupid Hollywood sap.

“That’s it!” Arthur cried out loud, struck by an insane yet brilliant idea. If he wants a Hollywood declaration, he’ll get a Hollywood declaration! The idea was cheesy, over-the-top, and stupid, just how Alfred liked it.

He jumped out of his chair, strode out of the living room, snatched his keys up, exited his apartment and slammed the door shut a little too hard, got the lift down, marched through the doors, unlocked his sleek black car, and drove. It was late (the time had just gone nine), but he figured Tesco would be open – if the superstore upheld its Open 24/7 policy, that is. He was also incredibly lucky that Valentines Day had been a week ago; there would’ve been no chance of finding these decorations had it been any other time of the year.

Arthur looked around the room, satisfied. Helium heart balloons were dotted around his living room, all bearing some variation of the three words Arthur had such trouble saying. He’d pinned up banners reading ‘I love you’ over the sofa and television, and had sprinkled pink confetti hearts everywhere (some had got stuck in his hair, much to his chagrin). On the dinner table he’d put a candelabra with new red candles, and laid out the table in a manner fit for the Queen.

It made him cringe, but so did Hollywood.

The oven pinged, and Arthur checked out his lamb roast. He frowned; the instructions had said to roast it for an hour after lowering the temperature, but it looked far too raw – he wouldn’t be surprised if it started bleating right there. Furthermore, the potatoes looked undercooked. Honestly, he thought, shoving the cookbook back into his cupboard irritably, who on Earth allowed this travesty to be published?

Letting it cook for a while longer, Arthur went back into the living room and collapsed on the sofa, exhausted. Decorating was no small feat, and it turned out that Tesco hadn’t had any Valentines Day decorations, meaning that he’d had to go drive to every other store until he finally found some. Cooking also took effort, although he didn’t dislike it. No, the most exhausting thing of that night was being distressed. The number of times he’d checked his phone in the vain hope that Alfred had tried to contact him was innumerable, and each time had left him a little bit sadder.

Arthur checked the clock – it was midnight. And Alfred still wasn’t back.

Suppressing the rising paranoia, he busied himself by going over what he’d say to Alfred. First came the apology, of course. Then came the explanation for why he had so much trouble saying the words. And then, finally, he’d say it.

Simple. Theoretically.

Time ticked on, and there was still no sign of Alfred. All he could do was hope that Alfred was planning on coming home and remaining his boyfriend.

He switched the television on and searched through the channels whilst he waited. He flicked past hospital dramas, crime shows, teleshopping, bad films, all of which Arthur abhorred. Not bothered enough to put a film in himself, he just kept it on a Hollywood romance. If he remembered correctly, Alfred and himself had seen it before. They’d been huddled on the sofa sharing a blanket and popcorn, Alfred resting his head on Arthur’s shoulder and periodically lifting it to give Arthur an affronted look as Arthur delivered his scathing commentary on the vapid film. And now, as he watched the movie by himself, it was just as dull and uninteresting.

So dull, in fact, that he could feel his eyes closing. No, stay awake, idiot. He tried to force his eyes open, but they kept battling against him until he finally surrendered to the call of slumber.

Alfred had better be here when I wake up.

“Artie?”

Something was shaking him.

“Artie, I’m back.”

This something sounded nice, if irritating. He tried to push it away, but he was too sleepy to put any sort of effort into it.

“I brought McDonalds, if you haven’t eaten.”

The thing shaking him sounded familiar. The accent, there was something about the accent. It didn’t sound English. More like...

“...Alfred?”

“Yep, it’s me.” Alfred chuckled. His eyes were shut and he was groggy, but he sensed Alfred was close.

Wait.

Alfred was back.

All exhaustion forgotten, he shot up so he was standing and pulled Alfred into a crushing hug, arms wrapped tightly around his body. Relief flooded through his veins as Alfred reciprocated, lacking none of the usual warmth.

“Thank God,” Arthur breathed. He then kissed him hard, keeping their bodies pressed together and swaying on the spot. Alfred tasted of salt and ketchup, weirdly enough, but Arthur didn’t care and just kept kissing him, loving the feel of Alfred’s lips on his, loving how they moved against his in such a way that turned him to jelly, loving how Alfred kissed him with such devotion and love – loving Alfred.

“Hah,” Alfred said once they broke apart for air, “Missed me?”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Arthur replied snippily. Now that the relief and joy of Alfred’s return had sunk in, he was left with the anger of Alfred’s departure. “You can’t just walk out on me!”

“I brought McDonalds back, so it doesn’t matter, eh?” Alfred said, grinning nervously. “Though it does smell like you’ve cooked dinner...”

Arthur blanched. “Shit, the dinner.”

He took out the charred lamb roast whilst Alfred wafted away the smoke, and set the burnt dinner down onto the countertop. Alfred gave a low whistle.

“How long did ya leave that in?”

“What time is it?”

“Half two.”

“Three hours! I knew I shouldn’t have slept,” Arthur said bitterly.

“Hey, cheer up, it’s just as burnt as all your other stuff!” Alfred teased, grinning when Arthur shoved him.

“Shut up, I’m still mad at you.”

“Yeah, about that – how do you even do the angry thing? I tried, and all that ended up happening was me hiding out in McDonalds crying my eyes out wanting to come back. I got free food though, so that’s something. I guess I was angry at you, but not in the way that you do it... You get angry,” Alfred said, laughing slightly.

“You were crying?” Arthur said, stricken.

“Crap. Er, maybe?” Alfred answered sheepishly.

“Because of me.”

“I guess...” Alfred sounded rather reluctant to admit it. Arthur sighed. What was he doing, being angry at Alfred?

“Sorry,” Arthur murmured, brushing a strand of hair out of Alfred’s face. “I’m not a very decent person, am I?”

“No, you are,” Alfred said immediately. Arthur smiled.

“Rhetoric, Alfred. Anyway, you shouldn’t be trying to make me feel better – I should be working to make you okay.”

“Is that what all those decorations were about?”

“Um,” Arthur said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly, “Yeah. Cringey Hollywood crap and all.”

“Wait, what? Hollywood?” Alfred looked rather confused.

“Yeah, Hollywood. I thought I’d do something Hollywood-style for you, but the dinner screwed up and I slept, so I’ve forgotten my speech,” Arthur said. “Apologies.”

“Your... Speech?”

“I prepared a speech for when you came home. One with explanations and apologies and all that.”

“Dude,” Alfred said, shaking his head emphatically, “I don’t want a speech. All I want is for you to say you love me, honestly and easily and stuff.”

Alfred was looking at him with those big blue eyes Arthur adored so much - to this day he couldn’t pinpoint what one shade of blue they were. He’d fallen for Alfred a year ago, and ever since then he’d had a fascination with shades of blue. Ever since then, Alfred’s eyes had held all the stars of the universe – the most beautiful, wondrous eyes he’d ever seen. His past boyfriends’ eyes paled in comparison. Arthur had since grown to love every single part of Alfred, both physical and emotional. The way Alfred’s hair caught the sunlight, how Alfred would always try to cheer him up if he was feeling down, Alfred’s intoxicating, infectious laugh... He’d fallen in love with it all.

Just TELL him so!

“Alright,” Arthur said, and took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you.”

Alfred F. Jones, the best boyfriend he’d ever had by far, was looking at him expectantly, a little encouraging smile on his face. Arthur fiddled with the hem of his sleeve, and forced himself to maintain eye contact. It’d be easier to turn away and mutter it, but after everything that had happened, saying it to Alfred’s face was best.

“I,” he swallowed, suddenly feeling very hot and slightly uncomfortable. Come on, spit it out! “Alfred, I – I lo –“ Deep breath.

“I love you.”

He barely had time to see Alfred’s mouth stretch into a huge smile before he was being kissed like he’d never been kissed before. Fuelled by euphoria, Alfred and Arthur were kissing each other hard, Arthur’s hands fisted in Alfred’s hair and Alfred’s arms pulled Arthur close until their bodies were flush against one another. He felt a wonderful dizzying sensation when Alfred parted his lips, eagerly parting his own. Their mouths moved together and tongues worked perfectly to make the other weak at the knees, serving another reminder as to how perfect they were for one another. As they kissed, three words were repeating over and over in his mind – I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you.

After too short a time they were forced to break apart to breathe, but they stayed in the close embrace, Arthur now resting his head on Alfred’s shoulder and Alfred resting his on Arthur’s head. He still felt a little giddy, and... Oddly liberated? Like he’d been pulled out of the crushing depths of the ocean and could breathe freely again.

“See, it wasn’t difficult!” Alfred said happily.

“No, I suppose not... It felt nice, actually,” Arthur said. “I had so much trouble with it because... Well, I haven’t said it before.”

“Seriously?” He sounded surprised, for some reason. Arthur nodded.

“Well, yes. I can’t even remember a time I said it before today, platonically or otherwise.”

“But you’ve had loads of boyfriends before me!”

“Three hardly counts as loads, Alfred. Besides, I – I never loved them like I love you. They were fun for a while, but... I suppose they were right to leave me. I don’t think they were as right for me as you are. Plus,” he smiled a little, “Their departure meant your arrival. And I’d much rather have you, dear.”

“You have no idea how happy I am right now, dude,” Alfred said, and gently prised Arthur off him. “Like, seriously. Just wait here, alright? Or, er...” He looked around at the messy kitchen, “Go into the living room, actually.”

Puzzled, Arthur asked, “What are you doing?”

Alfred was already hurrying out of the kitchen and up the stairs, but he excitedly yelled, “Something I’ve been waiting for this day to do!”

Thoroughly confused, Arthur made his way into the living room where all the sickening heart decorations were. Honestly, he thought, all this fuss and drama over three little simple words. He remembered the way Alfred’s face lit up when he said I love you. His smile grew wider and his eyes sparkled like they contained all the stars of the galaxies.

Alfred burst into the room with a huge grin on his face and his arms behind his back.

“What’re you hiding?”

“You’ll find out in a bit.” Alfred winked. He shoved whatever was in his hands into his pocket and stepped closer to Arthur, put his hands on either side of his waist, thumbs gently stroking him.

“I’ve, er, kinda been waiting for you to say that. Since, like, three months ago. I didn’t pressure you into saying it, did I?” he said, expression oddly solemn. Arthur shook his head firmly.

“Alfred, do you honestly think I’d do something I didn’t want to just because you went out in a huff? I always wanted to say it, I just... Needed a little push, I guess,” Arthur assured. Alfred gave a little relieved smile.

“Cool. ‘Cause, y’know. I love you and I want to be with you for the rest of my life, and then in the afterlife too. We can ghost-kiss and haunt all those homophobes and stuff and just be that super-awesome couple that everyone’s jelly over and, y’know, cool stuff like that.”

“Why do you sound so nervous?” Arthur chuckled.

“You want that too, right?”

“Of course, love. I love you. And, for the record, I have a sneaky suspicion that one of my co-workers is envious of our relationship.”

“Cool.” Alfred closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if readying himself for something. Arthur’s eyes widened and he held his breath as Alfred got down onto one knee and took out a small blue velvet box.

“Are you-“

He opened the box to reveal a beautiful silver ring with a sparkling gemstone in its centre – the exact colour of Alfred’s eyes, he noted. Arthur stared at the ring, then at Alfred, not quite believing what he was seeing.

“Remember when we went to that big fancy mall three months ago – I went off to buy something and you bought your new headphones? Well, I bought this. I was – I was waiting for the day you’d say ‘I love you’ to propose, ‘cause I wanted to make sure you loved me back, and, well,” he gave a little nervous laugh, “You do.”

Arthur was still speechless, so Alfred continued.

“I – I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Being with you, it’s just... I’m the happiest when I’m with you. I know we haven’t been dating for as long as other couples, and I totally understand if you say no, but I think we’re both confident enough that no one’s better for us than the other. I could list the reasons we’re the best couple, but I’d be here a long time so I won’t. But I will say that you’re my favourite person, and I know you feel the same about me. So, I guess I should say the actual words.

“Arthur, will you marry me?”

Arthur was still in shock-mode. Was this happening? It had to be a dream, but there was no way it could be a dream, it was all too wonderfully real, too splendidly vivid. Alfred was actually proposing to him! Alfred actually wanted to spend his entire life with him!

“Those tears are happy tears, right?” Alfred said.

Alfred you fucking perfect idiot.

“Of course I bloody will!” Arthur cried, bending down himself to tackle Alfred into a gleeful hug. Alfred returned it with equal fervour and soon the two were on the floor, hugging and laughing for all they were worth. Arthur kissed him and knew that nobody else’s lips were suited to him, nobody else could hold him like Alfred did, nobody else could make him feel like life was perfect.

“Let’s put the ring on ya, then!” Alfred said, sitting up and picking up the small box. He took out the ring and slipped it onto Arthur’s finger. Arthur held it out so that it sparkled in the light, loving the way it looked incredibly like Alfred’s eyes (only Alfred’s were prettier).

“It’s beautiful.”

“The jewel’s that paraíba tourmaline you told me about once, d’ya remember? You said it looked exactly like my eyes.”

Arthur blinked and peered at the stone. “Oh, so it is!”

“I thought I’d give you one that looked like my eyes, and I got one for myself that looked like yours. So, y’know, it’s all that romantic ‘we’ve always got a little part of the other with us’ stuff.”

“Where’s yours?” Arthur wanted Alfred to wear his.

“Oh, it’s, ah, gimme a second...” he foraged around in his pocket and extracted another box – green velvet this time.

“Here, let me put it on you,” Arthur said eagerly. He took the box and opened it to see a silver band similar to his own, but with a shiny, smooth jade in the centre. Arthur’s breath hitched.

“Do – do you truly think my eyes look this splendid?”

Alfred planted a chaste kiss on his lips and rested his forehead against Arthur’s, looking directly into his eyes. “Well, I actually think your eyes are better, but this was the prettiest green gem I could find,” he said softly.

“Honestly,” he scoffed, trying to hide the fact that he felt all mushy and warm and fluttery inside. Hands shaking slightly, he took the delicate ring out of the box, held Alfred’s hand in his own and slipped the ring onto his finger.

“Beautiful,” Arthur murmured. He put his own ringed hand next to Alfred’s, admiring them.

Engaged.

They were engaged.

Arthur looked up excitedly. “We’re going to get married!”

“I know, right?!” Alfred squealed back. “We’ll have to start handing out invites!“

“And choosing a cake!”

“And getting tuxes!”

“And finding a venue!”

“And planning the decorations!”

“Oh, decorations! We have to have a chandelier!”

“And a chocolate fountain!”

“What about an actual bloody huge fountain!”

“Ohmigod yes, and don’t forget streamers!”

“Confetti!”

“Banners!”

“Orchestra!”

“Lava!”

Arthur spluttered. “Lava?!”

“I got really excited and said the first word that came to my head, don’t blame me!” Alfred laughed.

“No but, making the floor lava would be rather hilarious, don’t you think? And who else would be able to say that they got married on actual molten lava?” Arthur said, grinning.

“If you’re suggesting that we get married in a volcano, then I am one-hundred-and-forty-seven percent behind you.”

“Well, that’s the venue sorted, then.”

They looked at each other, and all of a sudden they were laughing until their sides hurt, laughing in the way that no one else could make them laugh. Alfred’s obnoxious laugh was loud, raucous, and infectious – just the way Arthur liked it.

When they finally stopped laughing, Alfred leant against Arthur and gave a small, content sigh. Arthur responded by putting his arm around him and stroking his hair softly. He still couldn’t believe his luck. He, Arthur Kirkland, was engaged to Alfred Foster Jones.

“Hey, Alfred?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Artie.”

#UsUk #Aph England #Aph America #Fluff #Fanfic #my fanfiction #Oneshot #Cute #what else do i tag

223 notes · View notes

gxtsmxt-blog · 7 years

Note

Hey, may i request a Jungkook story well I don't really have a plot tbh i just wanna read a story of jungkook like those collage au and have a hobby of photography 🙈 thanks 😊

the nudist and the prudist [m]

❛❛ i saw you naked on your porch but jesus christ is my friend so i was hoping i would never see you again but here you are go away hot person❜❜ AU

COUNT → 14.968

GENRE → smut | angst | fluff | humor

PAIRING → jungkook | reader

WARNINGS → explicit language | virgin reader | exhibitionism | alcoholism | sEX

LINKS → TNATP 1.5 (jungkook’s pov)

note: so. this was mostly inspired by me walking by a naked man in real life this weekend. i live in a big city where one of the state universities is. lets just say i ran away screaming in terror. but ofc nothing else happened. never saw that man again. a nice butt he had. anyways. im gonna go to church now and say hello to my gOOD FRIEND JESUS CHRIST!!!!!!! AMEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

also send in more requests bc im a thirsty hoe

It was finally spring.

The bitter cold had lasted longer than normal and you feared that even the first day of spring would be filled with steady snowfall. Your winter had been spent wrapped in blankets, sipping on hot apple cider, and venturing outdoors with scarves nearly constricting your airflow. You thought the cold season was beautiful, but it was only beautiful superficially in your eyes. You didn’t enjoy walking around in layers upon layers of clothing and never leaving your room unless you absolutely had to. Then, one morning, you were greeted by melted snow and grass finally taking on that vibrant green color you missed so much.

As an introvert, winter was your own nightmare.

But then it became spring.

Pulling your keys from your backpack, you locked your door with a flick of your wrist, then moved through the claustrophobic hallway that connected you to your other housemates. They weren’t necessarily housemates exactly, as you’d never even spoken a word to any of them, but all three of you shared a bathroom and kitchen along with the people upstairs. Each of you had your own separate room as well—just as small as the hallway. Not counting your own building, there were four separate buildings altogether with a large, steep driveway near the front lawn. Your apartment specifically was located near the back where everyone parked their cars, each person having a spot that correlated with their room number. Closing the door quietly behind you, you made your way to the concrete stairs on the opposite side of the driveway and garbage bin, heading your university’s main campus.

As a first year, you had decided to live on your own without a roommate. Your parents advised you against it at first, as they knew you were the quiet type and it was hard for you to make friends, but you convinced them it would save you money in the long run. They offered to pay for most of your tuition, but you wanted to do so yourself. The two of them had been married for twenty-five years and you always compared your relationships—or lack thereof—to their own when you thought of settling down and having children; they were your role models. Even something as small as living off-campus was something you wanted them to fully support, even if it was ultimately your decision.

Your black boots made contact with the sidewalk after crossing the street, looking both ways before you did. It seemed no one was around but it was seven o'clock in the morning. Your first class wasn’t for another two hours and the walk to the bus stop was short, but you wanted to make a habit of reviewing your notes before your classes now that the weather was sunny again.

You rested your hands on the camera dangling around your neck. Your photography project for the week was to take pictures of nature at different times throughout the day. You recalled most of your pictures taken over the semester had snowfall in the background, so you were looking forward to the contrast from your new pictures. And today, you would capture spring for the first time.

Just as you passed by a few houses, your eyes followed after a robin as it perched on the railing of one of the porches across the street. It was slightly chubby, or maybe that was just its feathers, but you smiled as it began to chirp to its heart’s content. If you weren’t so shy and quiet, maybe you would sing, too.

You closed an eye and played with the focus to get the perfect shot—but then a naked man was opening the front door, standing directly behind the bird as you took the picture. The bird flew off to perch itself on a nearby branch instead, flapping its wings and squawking wildly in surprise, while you remained rooted to the sidewalk in pure shock. It was a good thing your camera was attached to a long string around your neck, as you let go of it when you let out a high-pitched scream.

He turned at that, not even realizing a person was standing across the street facing his house, and that’s when you saw it—his penis hanging there like a limp noodle. You covered your eyes so fast that you alsmost poked yourself in the eye, but for some reason you made a gap with your fingers to peek through. He looked like he was your age, maybe a year or two older than you. His hair was almost onyx as strands of straight hair fell into his eyes. You could feel your cheeks heating up but you couldn’t stop looking at him—both at him and his penis. He was muscular, too, his biceps and thighs attractively toned.

To your embarrassment, you realized this was the first time you’d seen a penis besides from illustrations in your high school textbook. It wasn’t like your family was religious or anything for you to never see one up close and in real life. Your mom had given you “the talk” when you got your period in seventh grade and explained sex to you in almost vivid detail, but also gave you her opinion on it—that sex should be reserved for a husband and his wife only. Maybe you were too young at the time to form an opinion of your own, but you had agreed with her. You promised you would wait until marriage to do that.

And, you supposed, somewhere along the way, you also promised never to look at a penis. Or maybe you just didn’t want to. Even from the simple illustrations in textbooks, they grossed you out.

Noticing your feet were still planted firmly to the ground, you broke into a run in the direction of the bus stop with your hands still covering your eyes, which wasn’t a good combination as a car honked at you when you blindly ran in front of it. You had no idea why you were running in the first place—as if he was going to chase you or something—but your first instinct was always to run away.

And he just stood there like this was just another day.

Faintly, you could hear him call after you, but you were not about to have a conversation with a naked man. You liked to look someone in the eye when you spoke to them and something told you that you would be looking at something else if he tried talking to you. Your thoughts raced as you wondered why he was even naked in the first place. Was he one of those guys you could look up online and find where he lived on the “sexual predators near you” list? If not, he was going to be up there very soon.

Even as the house disappeared from view when you turned a corner, you kept running. A man mowing his lawn simply watched on as you did, but you didn’t think much of it. You would later, though—your anxiety obnoxiously reminding you this incident happened in the first place.

When you reached an intersection near a busier part of the neighborhood, you hunched over to catch your breath. You tried not to think about his penis, but you couldn’t help it. It had been right there in your face. Well, maybe not right in your face, as you were standing at least a few hundred feet away, but you had seen it and you had stared longer than at least thirty seconds.

It really did look bigger than it did in pictures. Sex and male genitalia were never something you spent hours upon hours thinking about—until now. Now, as you sluggishly dragged your feet to the bus stop, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was so veiny and… thick. Was that supposed to fit inside of you someday? You knew men were of all different shapes and sizes when it came to their penises, but how could a penis be any larger than that and still fit? How did he even walk around with that thing? And you thought the hair was on the whole shaft. From what you saw, his pubic hair was actually at the base of it. The artist in your sex ed textbook illustrated penises with hair—well—everywhere. Maybe she was like you and had never seen a penis before either. That was slightly alarming, though, because maybe she shouldn’t be drawing penises if she hadn’t even seen one in the first place.

Pulling your phone out of your back jean pocket and wiping the sweat off of your forehead with the palm of your hand, you realized it was 7:08—it only took eight minutes for that disaster to happen. Your index finger tugged at the collar of your shirt and the slight spring breeze felt heavenly against the sweat that had accumulated there. You didn’t even notice how much you were sweating until now. It was a good thing you always put on deodorant. Were you sweating from the exhaustion of running away from a naked man for three blocks straight or… was it something else?

As the bus pulled in front of you, you quietly found an empty seat inside. You had a class in two hours but somehow you had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to review any of your notes efficiently.

Your mind was thinking about something else.

You had memorized his address—or maybe it wasn’t even his house. Actually, you didn’t want to think about that because somehow that was worse; some random guy feeling the breeze on his bare genitals on an old woman’s porch was definitely worse. If you felt like you were traumatized, she would have a heart attack and then die—probably. So, you rationalized that it had to be his house and also wondered if he had roommates or even a girlfriend living with him.

9773 S. Briarwood Dr.

That was his address and the street the two of you lived on. Your apartment building was but two houses away from his, separated by mere shrubbery. How had you had gone through half of the semester already—and walking by his house each day—without seeing him at least once? Maybe you were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. If you had left your room even fifteen minutes later that day, would you have even seen him at all?

After you came home from a study group later that night, you had torn a piece of paper out of your notebook and mapped out your entire neighbor—including possible bus stops, alleyways, and other shortcuts. His house was outlined with a bright red marker and crossed out, as if to tell anyone reading your map that it was a blocked off quarantine zone. It also helped that you drew him as a stick figure in his front lawn wearing no clothes with “beware of naked person” written beside him.

Behind your building were a multitude of possible routes. You could easily loop around the block so you never walked by his house on your way to the bus stop ever again. Though, you would also have to leave earlier in the morning. If that didn’t work, there was also another bus stop in the opposite direction you could take, but that meant waking up even earlier in the morning. You didn’t mind waking up earlier in the morning, but hoped that you never slept in late—for your sake.

All this trouble just because of a boy—and once again, you were thinking about his penis.

That entire day had been a nightmare for you. You went through the various stages of grief within two hours, but in reverse order—acceptance, depression, and then anger as you battled against yourself to not call the local authorities and tell them about a disturbing naked man walking the streets. You had every right to, you told yourself, as being naked in public was literally a crime: public indecency.

You felt like you were a used napkin now. He hadn’t taken your virginity but he had taken your innocence—the innocence that had never seen a penis in real life. But then you thought that it could’ve been an accident. The person inside of you that always tried to see the good in people wouldn’t allow your fingers to dial 9-1-1 and instead hoped an accident was what it was.

The spring breeze whipped your hair into your face just as his house came into view with you glancing down nervously at the picture you took of your map on your phone. It wasn’t too late; you could turn around to take another route and still get to the library with enough time to study.

You can do this, you told yourself. You’re a big girl living in the city. He’ll understand if you just talk to him. Tell him he can be naked all he wants as long as it’s not before eight o'clock in the morning during the weekdays.

You had every intention of marching up the steps leading to his front porch, knocking on his door, and saying exactly that, but then you changed your mind. Your brisk walk turned into slight panting as you quickly sped right on by.

However, just as you reached the intersection, as his house was the last house on the block before crossing the street, you heard a voice calling after you. Looking over your shoulder, you were more than surprised to see the very same person you saw yesterday, except half-clothed this time. He jogged down the steps, his bare feet running across the grass in his front lawn as he made his way over to you still frozen at the stop sign. You couldn’t help but have your eyes trail to his covered crotch and how something was moving in his sweatpants. Sparing a glance at his naked chest once, you turned on your heel and ran across the road, not even caring if a car hit you at that point.

“Hey!” he yelled after you but you didn’t slow down. “Girl with her backpack open!”

You stopped, looking behind you to see him still standing on the opposite side of the road. Your eyes landed on a trail of pencils behind you and you reached around your sides to feel the pocket where you kept your writing utensils was open. You bent over and tried to pick up all your pens, pencils, and multicolored highlighters before he could reach you, but just as you grabbed for an eraser in the middle of the road, he snatched it right out from under you.

You stood to your feet and reached for it, but he had at least a few centimeters on you and easily held it above your head. With his arm lifted in the air, you were given the perfect view of his bicep flexing and the dark patch of hair growing in his armpits.

“I remember you.”

No, you don’t, you thought to yourself.

“You saw me yesterday.”

No, I didn’t, you thought to yourself again but remained silent.

You could feel your cheeks heating up but he still kept your eraser out of your reach. Maybe it wasn’t worth it, but you were there now and should at least listen to what he had to say.

“About—”

“Jungkookie~” a feminine voice sang from a crack in his front door, manicured hands gripping onto its frame. Only her head peeked out and you wondered if she also had a problem wearing clothes.

Without taking his eyes off you or lowering his arm, he called her name back in the same sing-song voice. She giggled at him playfully, then her eyes fell on you, the smile slipping off her face.

“Who is she?” she said with a pout. “Come back to bed. I’m lonely without you.”

“I don’t know who she is,” he yelled over his shoulder, then looked back at you. “What’s your name?”

You looked between him and the seemingly naked girl behind his front door, feeling very uncomfortable staying there any longer. His arm had fallen slightly when he called over to her and he didn’t seem to notice, so you took that chance to jump in the air and snatch back your eraser.

“Hey!” he called after you when he noticed, watching as you ran across the street.

Just like yesterday, you ran until his house disappeared when you turned the corner. You had thought you could talk to him one-on-one but you felt so nervous around him. Maybe because you didn’t have the best of confidence around guys your age—or guys at all—but he made you really nervous. You brushed off that feeling from you seeing him naked, though, and not from something else.

For the past week, you walked in the opposite direction of his house on your way to the bus stop each day. It wasn’t like he was sitting on his porch waiting for you to walk by, but on the off chance that he was, you didn’t want to have another awkward chat with him. You didn’t know if he was actually a student at your university or was just some guy living on the same street as you either because your university was so large in the first place; you never saw the same person twice.

Stepping onto the bus one morning, however, your mood somewhat deteriorated at the sight of how many people were on the bus. It was crowded—so crowded that you knew you wouldn’t be able to find a seat and would have to be squished between people. Though, you had woken up late and expected there to be more people than normal, you didn’t think it would be too bad. You didn’t like being touched by strangers, but you didn’t have a car or even a bicycle to give you any other option.

The bus driver instructed everyone to make three rows, which caused you get up close and personal with the people around you. Satisfied, he pressed on the gas pedal and began to drive towards the main campus. A hand fell on your shoulder, then grabbed onto one of your backpack straps currently sliding past your shoulder and down your arm. You looked over your shoulder to thank them, but then lost all train of thought when you recognized them immediately.

“Hey, backpack girl,” he greeted, patting your shoulder when he readjusted your strap for you.

“H-Hello,” you shyly said back, turning your attention back to the girl standing in front of you.

When the bus stopped suddenly, a pedestrian choosing to run across the street without looking, your back fell into his chest. The hand that wasn’t holding onto the handrail overhead fell to your waist, your shirt having ridden up slightly so all he could feel there was smooth, bare skin.

You turned your head slightly, muttering your thanks, and then the bus doors were opening. Your stop wasn’t for another fifteen minutes but you would simply wait for another bus. He was making you nervous again without even doing anything and you needed a moment to yourself to calm down.

Other people followed you off the bus, walking over to the crosswalk, but you approached the bench. You placed your backpack against your legs, closing your eyes for a moment as you sat down. When you opened them, you were greeted by that growing smile you were dreading to see.

“Did you follow me?” you asked, surprised at yourself for sounding so competent.

“I don’t just sit on my porch all day with my dick hanging out, you know.”

You gave him a small smile at that. “I meant did you follow me off the bus?”

“You just happened to get off at my stop, backpack girl.”

He sat beside you on the bench with a thud, spreading his legs as he glanced at you.

“My name isn’t ‘backpack girl,’” you returned quietly and folded your hands in your lap.

“Yeah? I asked you what your name was last week but you didn’t answer me.”

“O-Oh,” you said and looked at him through your peripheral vision. “Right.”

“So?” he asked, leaning forward. “What’s your name? I’m Jungkook.”

You were still looking at him from the side, trying your best not to look down at his crotch. Glancing down at the hand placed between the two of you, your eyes followed the bulging veins from the back of his hand, disappearing into the sleeve of his shirt. Looking him in the eye at that, you realized he’d already been staring at you. He didn’t seem to notice you staring at his hand, though. Quietly, you muttered your name and he repeated it to himself.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Jungkook said with a charming smile. “Except we’ve met before, haven’t we?”

“Y-Yes,” you stuttered and felt the familiar rush of blood to your cheeks.

Standing up, you muttered a quiet goodbye and then walked over to the stop light. Instead of him letting you leave, however, he followed after you, standing to your left as the two of you waited for the light to change. You looked both ways to make sure no one was coming before you crossed the busy street, the light still red. He, however, was paying more attention than you and pulled you back onto the sidewalk as a car drove past you and honked.

“The light was red.”

“I-I know.”

“You’re really cute, you know that?” he asked you with a light chuckle.

“I’m n-not, but thank you.”

The light indicated you could now cross the street and he let go of your arm.

“Promise to watch where you’re going!” he yelled after you.

Once you safely crossed the street, you waved back at him with a shy smile.

“Bye!” he yelled again, cupping his hands over his mouth. “I gotta get back to the bus stop!”

Your eyebrows furrowed at that, and then you yelled back, “I thought that was your stop!”

He gave you a cheeky grin at that.

I lied, he mouthed back.

Jungkook wasn’t as bad as you thought he was.

It wasn’t like you had a bad thought about him in the first place. You assumed he was a good person and that it was simply an accident that you saw his penis, which you had long forgotten about—for the most part. You no longer avoided his house to take a different bus. Instead, you bravely walked by each day and he would sometimes be sitting on his porch to wave at you. Sometimes, he would stop you just to talk, simply to ask you how you were or ask you what you thought of a new movie.

One morning, however, he wasn’t there.

You couldn’t help but feel disappointed. It wasn’t like he was there every day—because sometimes, he told you, he would sleep in or go to the gym early in the morning. But a faint knock on the window had your heart beating a little faster than normal. Maybe he was home but just wasn’t outside. Pausing outside his house, you looked for which window he was knocking from.

But it was not a knock.

Instead, you saw a naked woman being pressed against a window. Your eyes widened at that, your phone that you’d been holding in your right hand falling onto the sidewalk. Bending over, you picked it up, thankful it had a cover on it, then glanced back at the window. Her breasts were squished against the glass and you could make out another figure directly behind her, reaching in front of her to grab at her lower regions. Didn’t he remember that you walked by his house every day at the exact same time? As you continued to stare in shock, her eyes slowly opened, looking directly at you and—

Oh, God.

Your hand covered your mouth, knowing exactly what was happening there. Before you could stop yourself, you were running past his house as fast as you could, nearly tripping over a crack in the sidewalk. You heard the front door opening with a slam but you continued to run, even after you heard his rushed footsteps follow after you and him yell your name multiple times.

Just before his house disappeared from view, you stopped and looked over your shoulder. He was only wearing a pair of boxers, but you were thankful he at least put on some clothes. Thinking that you already ran away, he looked up at the sky and ran his tongue past the seam of his lips. He kicked a rock across his front lawn and then cursed to himself before heading back inside. Just before the front door shut, you saw the naked girl stop in front of him and attempt to talk to him. You couldn’t make out what they were saying but it looked like he wasn’t happy with her as the door closed shut.

He must have just forgotten that you walked by every day. Why else would he be having sex with a girl against a window knowing that? Your eyes brimmed with tears, but you didn’t know why. It wasn’t like you liked him like that—romantically. He was very attractive and he was nice to you, but you didn’t know what you felt for him exactly. The two of you had only been talking for a week and that wasn’t enough time at all for you to like someone in that way, especially when you knew he had girls over all the time to have sex with them. He told you that much about him, at least.

After that, you stopped walking by his house.

You missed talking to him and you missed seeing him, but you were a little more than upset with him to care about his feelings. Did he even care that you stopped walking by? Maybe this was what he wanted all along; maybe he found your presence annoying and just wanted you to leave him alone. Surely he could’ve just told you that but that’s what your anxiety was telling you—and you believed it.

After you had been studying for hours and felt like your head was about to explode one night, your mind drifted back to him as it always did—him and that girl pressed up against the window. You had never watched porn before in your life, as you wanted to keep your innocence intact, but you couldn’t help but wonder how it felt to have sex with him like she had. What did it feel like? If he had girls over all the time just for that, he must’ve been good enough for them to always keep coming back.

You thought she was the same girl that was staying at his house that one time, though. For reasons you couldn’t yet explain or even understand, you felt jealous. It seemed like she was always at his house and maybe he was always naked because they were just having sex all the time. She was probably his girlfriend or maybe she was just a friend that he liked to have sex with—more so than any of the other girls he had sex with. Even if that’s all she was, you still felt envious of her. She could see him whenever she wanted, talk to him whenever she wanted. But you? You only saw him once every day at seven o'clock in the morning, and all you ever could do was wave.

For the first time in a long time, you were frustrated with your quiet nature. You couldn’t even speak more than a few words to him without getting flustered and now you had ruined it. Getting so upset over him having sex with a girl was completely ridiculous, but that’s how you felt.

Maybe you liked Jungkook a lot more than you thought you did.

Usually you made men uncomfortable with your quiet way of speaking and how you wouldn’t look them directly in the eye, but he didn’t mind at all. He thought you were cute and would tell you that whenever he felt like it. No one else had called you cute before in your life, except for your grandma when you were five years old. Somehow, you only liked it when he called you cute. You realized that you valued his opinion way too much, and that was clear from how sad you were from not seeing him.

For a fleeting second, you wondered what it would be like to have sex with him—vividly. What would it be like if, instead of that girl, it was you having sex with him? You covered your eyes at that thought out of embarrassment. That was just completely out of the question, something you shouldn’t even be thinking about at all. All you felt for Jungkook was attraction.

He didn’t care about you at all.

Even with that thought on your mind, as you laid in bed, your hand slowly drifted past your pajama shorts, touching yourself down there for the first time. The patch of hair made it awkward at first, but then your finger circled your outer lips and you let out a gasp at the sensation.

Would Jungkook touch you down there if you asked?

You closed your eyes, imagining your fingers were his instead. If his fingers were similar to the size of his penis, they would be long and able to reach places that yours couldn’t. Without even thinking twice about it, your other hand grasped one of your breasts through your baggy t-shirt, then rolled your nipple between your thumb and forefinger. It felt so good and there was so much wetness down there just from thinking about him touching you. You pulled your hand out of your warm center and slowly opened your eyes to look at it. It was coated with your own juices and somehow, that made you feel even more turned on than you already did. Letting go of your breast, you reached down and spread your lips open with your fingers so that the fingers on your other hand could go back to their caressing, but this time, you shoved the tip of your forefinger inside your tight hole.

It felt strange and almost uncomfortable, but after a few minutes, you were able to stick your entire finger all the way inside of you. You couldn’t even imagine what it would feel like if it was his finger instead. Adding another, your inner walls stretched even more at the new digit inside of you.

I am a good girl, you chanted in your head. I don’t do things like this. I am a good girl.

Even thinking that, though, you knew it wasn’t true. Something was very wrong with you for having such impure thoughts about a boy you rarely saw except for in the morning. You thought back to how he’d pressed that girl against the window. How would it feel to be in her place?

Your hips stuttered at that, the speed of your fingers increasing. All your mind was thinking about was Jungkook—how hard he would press you into that window, how hard he would fuck you into that window. Your fingers suddenly weren’t enough; you wanted his fingers inside of you.

“J-Jungkook,” you moaned quietly to yourself, your legs twitching.

Then you pulled your fingers out of you and began to caress your outer lips again, pausing when you touched yourself in a certain way that shot an intense amount of pleasure through you. You pinched at your lips and tried to locate the same spot near where your outer lips met at the top of your vagina.

“Oh, God…” you couldn’t help but cry out loudly, squeezing your thighs together for some friction.

The sensation felt so good, but it also made you feel different as well. You wanted to keep going but you also wanted to stop, which was what you did.

This was not what you should be doing. It was just going to make things worse for you. Jungkook would have sex with you and then never speak to you again, or at least that’s what you told yourself. He would deflower you and leave you out to dry like a dirty sock.

At that thought, warm tears formed in the corners of your eyes.

And as you laid in your bed, your fingers coated in your own juices, you cried.

The next few days after that, you felt physically and emotionally drained. You couldn’t even get out of bed, or maybe it was because you didn’t want to. Never had you felt so ashamed of yourself because this was all because of a boy. Your parents would be ashamed of you if they knew, too.

And that made you feel even worse.

They would be disgusted by your behavior you and probably think to themselves what they did so wrong to raise such a horrible excuse for a daughter. And they had every right to think that.

After a week of skipped classes and homework piling up more and more each day, you found yourself lying in the front lawn of your apartment building late one night. It was the weekend and no one would care if they saw a crying girl on the grass. They would let you self-deprecate in peace.

With a half-empty bottle of straight vodka on its side by your head, you opened your eyes.

“Hey, man,” you heard a familiar voice say to someone else, then they asked if you lived here.

You sat up so quickly at that your head began to spin. The conversation was distant enough that you could tell they were talking right in front of the building near the street. Placing a hand on your forehead, you strained your ears to listen, even though your brain was screaming at you to die.

When you heard nothing, you assumed they left and laid back down on the ground, taking a swig of vodka as you did. The burn was unpleasant but you welcomed it and took another.

“Yeah, but how do you know her exactly?”

“Uh… It’s kind of a long story.”

“All right, man. Well, she’s in #10.”

You gulped at that, hoping that it was so late in the evening now that he wouldn’t see you in the dark.

You heard a car starting and footsteps getting closer as they traipsed up the driveway, then you peeked through half-closed eyelids to see a shadow looming over you.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, a concerned look on his face.

“Whoever you’re d-dialing can’t be r-reached,” you slurred, batting the person standing beside you away with your hand like they were a fly buzzing around your head. “Try…" You started to hiccup, enough that you just gave up on finishing your sentence.

“Oh, Jesus…”

He knelt at your side, prying the bottle of vodka out of your hands with a sigh. You faintly remembered hearing him ask himself how you managed to get vodka in the first place, but then he was tossing the bottle somewhere behind him on the grass. It clinked when it rolled into the fence surrounding the nearby garbage bin, then he grabbed one of your arms to get you to stand up. He called your name once, then several times to get your attention.

“Can you hear me right now?”

You groaned in response.

“Shit. You’re so fucked up.”

He pulled at your arms like you were some sort of rag doll, your face falling into the crook of his neck easily from his strength. Another sigh escaped him, but it didn’t seem like he was bothered. Reaching for your legs, he easily pulled you into his chest and carried you down the driveway bridal style.

“W-Where are we goin’?” you managed to ask and attempted to focus on his face. Your hands idly hung around his neck and he suddenly paused, hoisting you further up his body.

“My house. Is that okay?”

Your head fell against his shoulder, blacking out for a few seconds at a time. He resumed walking when you didn’t say anything back. When you opened your eyes again after what felt like only seconds, you were lying on a couch inside someone’s house. The sight of a large ceiling fan greeted you when you did, and then you glanced around what appeared to be a living room.

“Jungkook,” you heard a voice say. “Why is there a drunk girl on our couch right now?”

“You know, it’s a funny story…”

“And you know what else is a funny story? That whenever you say something is a ‘funny story,’ it actually isn’t a ‘funny story’ at all because you did something stupid.”

Jungkook sighed. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Oh, shit. You’re right. I gotta get going, but you better not let her puke on the carpet.”

The door slammed with a shut and you heard Jungkook sigh again, then watched as he carried one of the dining room chairs in front of you to take a seat. Your eyes fell onto his thighs, the back of the chair facing you and him sitting on it with his legs spread open.

“You’re conscious,” he said after a few seconds, smiling in relief.

“Jungkook,” you started to say, “why weren’t you there that morning?”

It was a vague question but somehow he knew exactly what you meant.

“I’m so fucking sorry you had to see that. I didn’t even— It didn’t even register that… I’m sorry.”

You sat up, rubbing at your temples for a moment. He went to reach for you in an attempt to steady you, but you backed away from him and pressed yourself more into the couch.

“It’s fine,” you said, which was a lie. “Can you take me home?”

“Y-Yeah. Are you sure you’re okay, though?”

You wanted to lie again and tell him you were fine, but somehow you couldn’t even do that. Even after passing out, you still could feel the alcohol pumping through your veins, giving you a false sense of confidence. You knew if you were even slightly sober, you wouldn’t have said a word.

“No, but I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

You stood up, your head spinning as you did and almost causing you to topple over. Raising a hand, you gestured that you were fine and could walk by yourself without his help.

It was awkward as you stumbled over to his front door, trying to open it but not realizing it was locked. He reached over your shoulder, his large hand encasing your own on the door knob so he could unlock it, then offered you a small smile. You didn’t return it, though.

He silently followed you outside, walking behind you quietly.

“Are you sure you're—”

“I said I’m fine.”

He didn’t say another word after that. Cars drove by but that was all you heard as the two of you slowly made your way past the houses separating his house from your own.

“You know what? I’m not. I’m a little intoxicated right now—”

He snorted softly at that, agreeing with you.

“—and so I’m probably going to say something dumb. Usually I wouldn’t even be speaking more than two words to you but right now I don’t give a shit. That’s right. I know what that word means.”

You spun around to face him, breathing heavily after your outburst.

“I’m fucking pissed at you. You knew I would be walking by but then I saw— And I know we’re not even friends. We’re complete strangers, but I figured you could at least keep your dick in your pants for even just one second because I thought we— I thought y-you l-liked me like I like y-you.”

“I do lik—!”

“I am talking right now, Jungkook,” you hissed, taking a step forward. “As I was saying… I thought— But I guess I was wrong. You probably only started talking to me in the first place because you wanted to stick your dick in me, right? Why else would you talk to someone as socially awkward and quiet as me?”

You turned back around, then, with your back facing him. He didn’t have much to say in response, his mouth opening and closing as if he couldn’t think of what to say. The two of you continued towards your building in silence again. You crossed your arms, so many things left unsaid between you two.

When you reached your driveway, you threw a glance over your shoulder.

“Thanks for walking me home,” you quietly said. “I won’t be walking by anymore so you can screw whoever you want wherever you want without worrying about me, if you even did at all.”

Then you wobbled your way up the driveway, set on storming into your room to take a long nap. Though, it was late at night already so that would probably just be called sleeping.

“Wait!” he yelled after you, but didn’t make a move to go after you. “Will you just— Fucking hold on.”

You heard his rushed footsteps behind you, then he grabbed your shoulder to spin you around. He pulled back at the sight of tears brimming in your eyes, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“I do fucking like you. I do but I… I’m not good enough for you. No one is good enough for you.”

“Don’t you think I should be the one to decide that?” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly.

“I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You already did.”

You pulled your arm out of his grasp and tried to walk back up the driveway, but then he was grabbing for your arm again, this time pushing you into the fence surrounding the garbage bin. Surprised, you looked up at him. He bit into his lip, seeming to make up his mind about something.

“You’re not… making this fucking easy on me, you know?”

Then he was kissing you.

His arms caged you into the fence, angling his head as he sucked your upper lip into his mouth. Your eyes blinked rapidly, still trying to process what was happening. His lips felt chapped but also soft at the touch, something you hadn’t been expecting. You’d been kissed before but they were only pecks on the lips and definitely nothing as searing hot as his mouth. You felt his tongue lick across the seam of your lips, and your eyes closed on reflex at that as you slowly opened your mouth for him.

“I shouldn’t be…” he mumbled against your lips, returning his tongue into your mouth. Seeming to have forgotten what he was trying to say, his words just trailed off into the air.

One of his hands fell from the wooden fence and skimmed down your sides, stopping at your waist and maneuvering under your shirt to feel the warm skin there. Compared to your heated body, his hands were like ice cubes but you didn’t want him to stop touching you. Even just kissing him was something you didn’t want to stop doing. His other hand followed soon after, both of them gliding at a snail’s pace across the skin at your back. Your eyes snapped open when he roughly pulled you against him and your breasts pressed against his firm chest. It was like your body was on fire and you could feel your heart beating wildly in your chest. You wondered if he could hear it, too.

He exhaled through his nose after a few seconds and pulled away from your mouth to trail kisses from your chin to down your neck. Your hands bunched up the fabric at his collar as you stood there and let him do whatever he wanted to you. You hadn’t ever been kissed like how he was kissing you, ravaging your neck with such an intensity you found it hard to think straight. His teeth nipped at the skin there lightly, which caused you to let out a gasp. After placing a chaste kiss there, he breathed heavily into your neck for a moment, pulling back after a while to look at you. The hands holding you to him at your back suddenly slid further up your shirt and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

Your eyes opened again to see him staring down at you with raw desire. He bent his head forward to kiss you once as if he couldn’t help himself—a fleeting peck—and then he pulled away again. You moaned lowly from the back of your throat at the loss of contact and he licked his lips, scanning your face under the glow of the dim streetlight. Your lips felt bruised and wet with his own saliva and yours.

He leant forward again and pressed a kiss against your temple, then one softly to your cheek. Pulling away one last time, the two of you just stared at each other in awe. You didn’t know what to say and definitely hadn’t been expecting him to kiss you ten minutes ago—especially not like that.

And then a car was honking at the two of you, gesturing for you to get out of the way so they could find a parking spot without hitting you. Jungkook grabbed at your waist, his hands at your back sliding around to grip your sides. Then his hands were gone, skimming down the length of your arm to hold onto your hand tightly and drag you around the garbage bin to let them drive past you.

When they were gone, disappearing behind the building, he looked back down at you.

“So, um…” he said, panting slightly. “That was… something…”

“Yeah,” you replied, staring at your feet in embarrassment.

He sensed that and instantly felt regret, not from kissing you but from doing so without your permission. He hadn’t even asked you if it was okay with you—he just did it without thinking.

“I’m sorry. I—” he started to say, then cut himself off. “I’ve been saying that a lot lately, huh?”

You snapped up your head to look at him. “It’s okay! I’m fine. Don’t apologize.”

Every time he looked at you, all he could remember was how warm you felt inside your mouth. For a moment, his thoughts went south. He had to get you back in your room before he made things worse.

“Are you going to be okay on your own?”

“Y-Yeah. I can find my way. Don’t worry about me,” you assured with a warm smile. He let go of your hand after realizing he was still holding onto it somewhat tightly. “I’m… I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“I’m sorry for kissing you,” he said quietly.

“Don’t be.” You tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear. “I… I liked it, so thank you.”

His hands twitched at his sides at what you said, his brain screaming at him to get away from you.

You turned around and began to walk up the pathway to your building, opening the door. Looking over your shoulder, you gave him a small wave and smiled at him. Before you disappeared inside, however, he was running over to you and grabbing onto the door frame.

“Listen… uh…” he began and scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Can I make it up to you? For kissing you and for… you know. I’m throwing a party tomorrow night. You should come.”

Your hands held onto the side of the door, his hand holding onto the door frame inches from your own.

“O-Okay,” you agreed, smiling. “If you want me to come, I will.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief, smiling back at you. “Great. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

You nodded and he nodded back, awkwardly. Waving one last time, you closed the door in his face. After you walked down the hallway to unlock your door and disappeared from sight, he breathed deeply through his nose, able to think straight for the first time in what seemed like two hours. He moved to walk back down the driveway and go to sleep in his own bedroom, looking over his shoulder at the door several times as he did.

“God, I’m fucked…” he mumbled to himself, wondering if inviting you to his party was a good idea.

You fell asleep late that night, not waking up until half-past noon the next morning. It wasn’t something you could help, though, as you couldn’t stop thinking about him and that kiss. Now, at a quarter until nine o'clock at night, you pulled back your covers and walked over to your mirror. Was going to his party such a good idea? Maybe all he wanted to do was talk to you and hang out with you, but what if he was with one of those girls? You would just get angry with him again and it wouldn’t be anyone else’s fault but your own.

Going through your closet, you took at least ten minutes to pick out what to wear. You wanted to impress him but also didn’t want him to know you were trying to impress him, so you went with a simple blouse paired with a somewhat short skirt. You hadn’t shaved your legs in two days, but the hair growing back wasn’t that noticeable. Glancing at your reflection in the mirror one last time, you pulled your hair so it was halfway up and secured it with a ponytail. You didn’t wear heavy makeup, mascara and light foundation the most you wore on a good day, but you put on some red lipstick anyway.

He didn’t tell you what time the party started and you didn’t even have his phone number, but you knew the second you heard the loud bass vibrating against your wall. Locking your door behind you, you slowly walked down the driveway with butterflies in your stomach. It was already an hour after the music started and you wondered if he was still waiting for you to show up.

He probably already forgot about you.

You walked across his lawn, the tips of the grass blades tickling your toes in your flip flops, intending to awkwardly knock on the front door. Running through your head what you would say to him inside, you didn’t even notice a figure sitting on the porch until they were waving at you.

It was Jungkook.

“Hey,” he called over to you, standing up. “You took your sweet time getting over here.”

You giggled shyly to yourself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d be waiting for me outside.”

He removed the hoodie from over his head, running a hand through his black hair. You looked him up and down from his dark wash jeans to his baggy, loose-fitting sweatshirt, finding the sight of his hands digging into his front jean pockets really attractive for some reason. Your eyes finally trailed back up to his face to see if he had caught you staring only to see he was doing the same to you.

“Cute,” he said after a moment, one corner of his lips tilting up into a lopsided grin. “Come on.”

With his hands still in his jean pockets, he gestured with his elbow for you to follow him inside. You did as he said, then he paused at the front door, holding it open for you.

“Ladies first.”

Upon entering his house for the second time, it was loud and crowded with people huddled together in every corner. The bass was even louder inside—which you didn’t think was even possible—and you anxiously looked behind you in hopes of seeing Jungkook not far behind. As an introvert, parties never appealed to you. Even hanging out in a small group gave you intense anxiety, so you were definitely the type to hug the corners of a wall at a party or hang out with their pets instead of getting drunk.

As he walked over to stand at your side, he could tell you were anxious and grabbed your hand, pulling you into the kitchen. A few guys greeted him with that weird shake that guys do. He grinned back that, making small talk for a moment, before his eyes fell back onto you.

“You’re not twenty-one, are you?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow at you playfully.

You feel your cheeks heat up. “No. I’m only eighteen.”

“I knew it,” he said with a laugh, stepping away from the counter littered with beer bottles and half-full red solo cups. “I figured you were a freshman the moment I saw you.”

After digging through the fridge, he pulled out a pitcher of apple juice, pouring you a cup.

“You should have some, too,” you said with a giggle.

“Nah.” He smiled down at you from across the counter at that. “Orange juice is more my thing.”

You let out a loud at that, then covered your mouth with one of your hands in embarrassment.

“God, you’re cute,” he mumbled, mostly to himself. “I like hearing you laugh, so don’t hide it.”

You took a sip of your apple juice at that, the cool drink sliding down your throat a nice contrast to the heat spreading over your cheeks. He continued to look at you, his elbows resting against the cool countertop. Feeling yourself getting a little too hot, either from him staring at you or all the sweat in the air from the bodies inside the house, you asked if there was a bathroom you could use.

“Yeah,” he replied and pointed behind you to the stairs. “It’s just upstairs and on your right.”

You muttered your thanks, setting your apple juice on the counter, then brushed past some people to find the stairs. Glancing over your shoulder once, you could see Jungkook watching you across the room.

As you quickly padded up the stairs, disappearing down the hallway. Jungkook took a swig of beer, giving himself some liquid courage before he followed you up the stairs. This was his chance to talk to you away from all his friends and various drunk people he didn’t know he invited. Although he wasn’t sure how well it would go, he couldn’t keep it in the shadows any longer. He ran up the stairs, skipping steps, and heard the faucet turn on. Licking his lips nervously, he knocked on the door.

“Occupied,” he heard back and he had to stifle a laugh.

“It’s me,” he said after a few seconds. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

You opened the door, looking at him with curious, wide eyes. Stepping away to give him enough room to walk inside, he slowly brushed past you into the bathroom.

“It’s quieter here,” he mumbled, looking around as if it wasn’t the same bathroom he used every day.

“Yeah,” you agreed and looked at him expectantly with folded arms.

“You remember when you saw me naked that one time?”

“How could I ever forget?”

He laughed at that. “I’m sorry about that, but I just wanted to explain. I know that happened a month ago but you probably are still wondering about that. It was a little weird, huh?”

“A little bit…” you quietly replied, smiling shyly.

“I… I’m a, uh… I’m an exhibitionist.”

You could only stare up at him at that. Uncrossing your arms, you asked, “You’re a… You’re a what?”

“Exhibitionist. It means I get turned on when people see me naked. It’s a kink of—”

“Wh— Uh… You…”

“Maybe I should’ve transitioned you into this more gently…”

“M-Maybe. Does… Does that mean that you did that on purpose?!”

“No, no, no! It was an accident!” he frantically reassured you, waving his hands wildly. “I didn’t know you were going to be walking by—trust me. But I… may or may not have gotten turned on by…”

“…me seeing you naked?”

It was awkwardly silent and if you weren’t in the room, he would probably be kicking himself in the nuts for making you uncomfortable. He hadn’t even planned out what he was going to say to you or how. All he knew was he wanted to clear things up and try to make you understand him a little bit.

His head fell against the wall, tucking his hands into his front jean pockets. “That came out wrong.”

“Maybe… Maybe I should go…” you slowly said, already taking a step towards the closed door.

“Wait!” he yelled, moving himself to block off the door. “Hold on. I’m fucking sorry that this is probably making you uncomfortable but this isn’t actually what I wanted to talk about.”

“Then what is it you wanted to say?”

“I… Ah, fuck. I’m usually good at this.”

“Good at what?”

“I know you’re not that type of girl.”

“Type of girl?”

“I know how you’re going to respond but…”

“But what?”

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “No one ever walks by my house early in the morning. I didn’t do it on purpose just to pop a boner. I didn’t even know you were there until…”

The two of you recalled at the same time how you had run away screaming.

“But that’s not what I wanted to say. I think you’re really fucking adorable. I’m kind of obvious about it, so you probably knew that already. And you also know that I hook up with a lot of girls at… here…”

You anxiously glanced at the door knob behind him.

“It turns me on when someone sees me naked and it turns me on to even fuck in public because just the thought of someone walking in on me with my dick out is… Fucking hell. Just the thought of it is… It’s never even mattered who it was or who I’m with either. I’ll fuck anyone anywhere and I’ll be… good to go. I’ve never really chased after anyone for sex because of it. But there’s… there’s something so fucking special about you. You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yes…”

“God,” he groaned, closing his eyes as his head made a thud when it banged against the door. “I figured as much. I could just tell by how you act.”

You now understood where he was going with this as you glanced down at his bulging erection straining against the front of his jeans, backing yourself into the sink. Your hands came to rest on the edge and gripped onto the porcelain tightly until your knuckles turned white. He probably thought that this was freaking you out but it actually was making you feel something down there.

And that made you very nervous.

“I want to fuck you so bad.”

You sucked in a breath at that, your legs shaking slightly but hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“I haven’t had a good fuck in such a long time because all I can think about is you. Knowing you’ve never had sex before makes it even worse. You don’t even know how close I was to coming into your room last night and bending you over your desk—how close I was to pounding into you so hard that everyone in your fucking building would hear you screaming.”

“I… um…”

“And I’m not telling you this so that I can force you into anything you don’t want to do. I know you’re not that type of girl and would never force myself on anyone. I just needed to get this off my chest. I want to fuck you so badly, but I know you’re not into me like that. You’re probably waiting until marriage or some fairytale shit like that. I’m telling you this so that you stay the fuck away from me. Do you know how many times a day I pop a boner just from thinking about fucking you? It doesn’t even matter where—in a car, in this fucking bathroom, in the street. I would strangle a person just to bury my dick in you for even one fucking second.”

Instead of running past him and out the front door like a normal person, you stayed rooted to the spot. You bit into your bottom lip, then looked up at him to see him staring at your mouth.

“Okay.”

He blinked, his mouth falling open. “Okay? What are you—”

“I’ll have sex with you.”

He opened his mouth to object again, even though he was the one who brought it up, but you stepped forward and away from the sink. Did he really think just because you were a virgin you wouldn’t? He had to know how ridiculously good looking he was; the old lady across the street would even agree.

All you could think about the past week was the exact same thing he’d been thinking about. You wanted him to bend you over your desk. You wanted him to fuck you, even just for a second. You wanted him to fuck you so hard that all your neighbors would hear you screaming. All your fantasies of getting married to the perfect guy and giving your virginity to him on your wedding night on top of a bed littered with rose petals was out the window.

“I want you, too,” you whispered, grabbing onto his forearms.

His breath hitched at that, and then he was leaning more into the door to back away from you. You pulled buck, letting go of his arms as a hurt expression crossed your face.

“But you don’t want to,” you said quietly.

“I-I do! It’s just… Have you been fucking listening to me?” He reached for one of your hands but you backed into the sink again, looking at a crack in the wall instead of looking him in the eye. “I just… It would be a mistake before—”

“Mistake?” you asked him and your eyebrows knitted together. “I’m sorry for… I’m sorry.”

And then you were brushing past him to walk downstairs, the front door getting closer with each step. Jungkook didn’t even go after you, just stood there after you squeezed past him. He hadn’t even objected at all. It was the right thing to do, he thought to himself just as you closed the front door.

You didn’t even get to hear the rest of what he had to say.

You felt embarrassed.

You had gone above and beyond and actually told him you wanted to have sex with him, and then he just rejected you like that was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard in his life. You understood that he thought he was doing the right thing but he seemed to make up his mind on what you wanted. Once again, he was treating you like you were some porcelain doll that couldn’t make her own decisions. Why had he even brought it up if he wasn’t interested in that with you anyway? He made it sound like he was, but then he confused you when you shot you down like that. You didn’t understand what he wanted.

Days went by and you kept walking by his house, hoping he would change his mind, but he was never outside on the porch to wave at you like he had been before. You knew he was home but simply didn’t want to talk to you. Maybe it was for the best, you thought. You shouldn’t let one boy change your mind on whether or not you wanted to have sex before marriage. Your parents would be proud.

One particular day, however, it was raining hard.

You held your backpack above your head as you ran and you faintly heard the bus driving down the street after you got off at your stop. Looking at the sky, you jumped when you heard thunder. As you sprinted across the street, stepping into various puddles as you did and soaking your socks and shoes, you stopped to see you were standing across the street from Jungkook’s house. The rain had stopped, so you lowered your backpack from over your head, and slowly crossed the street in silence.

In one puddle, you failed to notice there was a large tree branch and fell flat on your face. You let out a cry of pain and slowly pulled yourself to sitting on the back of your heels. Feeling your knee, you pulled your hand back to see you were bleeding, which really wasn’t what you needed at all.

“Ow…” you cried out and felt tears form in the corners of your eyes.

Using the back of your sleeve, you wiped at your eyes just as a single tear rolled down your cheek. You sniffled, but slowly stood to your feet and looked at where the branch had scraped against your skin. Some parts of the wound were deeper than others and you sighed to yourself.

Then you heard a front door opening.

Your head snapped up to see none other than Jungkook jogging down the steps with a hoodie over his head, then stopping in front of you. His eyes trailed down to the wound on your thigh, grimacing.

“Shit,” he muttered. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you answered, pulling down your skirt. You moved to take a step back but faltered slightly. Jungkook’s arm wrapped around your shoulder at that, leading you to his front porch.

“Come on,” he said quietly, and you let him.

Closing the front door, he walked you over to his couch. Your hair was soaking wet from the rain and you left tiny puddles of water behind you on the hardwood floor of his entryway. He jogged up the stairs, telling you he was going to get you a towel, and returned less than a minute later. The couch sank from his weight when he sat next to you and he went to wrap the towel around you, ruffling your hair in an attempt to dry it. He laughed quietly to himself when he squished your cheeks together, your lips puckering cutely.

“How bad was it out there?” he asked, smiling warmly at you.

“It wasn’t that bad until ten minutes ago,” you answered, taking the towel from his hands. “I had just got off the bus when it started to rain, though. And then it was thundering, too.”

“That sucks,” he supplied. “You can stay here until it stops, if you want.”

You didn’t tell him that it’d already stopped, using the excuse that it would just start raining again if you left straight away.

“T-Thank you.”

You scratched at your leg and his eyes followed the movement, remembering you fell outside.

“Does that hurt?” he asked, looking at your thigh.

“A l-little bit,” you stuttered as you felt him staring at you.

“I got some band-aids. Maybe that’ll help,” he told you, then disappeared up the stairs again.

You listened to the sound of him walking around upstairs, the floorboards creaking beneath his weight. Glancing around his house, your eyes fell onto the television across the coffee table. Jungkook must’ve been watching something before he invited you inside. Although you’d been in his house twice already, it felt smaller when you knew it was just the two of you inside, unless his roommates were home, too. Sucking in a deep breath, you fidgeted with the hem of your skirt, running a finger down the scratch on your leg. It would scab over eventually, so maybe you didn’t need a band-aid—not that a band-aid would even help since you would need a lot of them to even cover your wound. You pulled out your phone from the pocket inside your backpack, thankful you didn’t simply keep it in your back jean pocket because of the rain.

You looked terrible.

Your hair was a mess and already frizzy from the heat. Your mascara wasn’t waterproof so it was a big, black mess under your eyes. You didn’t even know where to start so you just put your phone away, sighing to yourself. Maybe you shouldn’t have come inside and just went home. You only lived two houses away in the first place. Why did you even agree to come inside at all?

Deep down, you already knew the answer.

At the sound of him running down the stairs, you looked over the back of the couch. He held a wad of band-aids in his right hand, the other holding a hand towel.

“I’m back,” he said with a grin.

He sat next to you on the couch again, but then realized it would be an awkward angle. Noticing his discomfort, you turned so that you were facing him and lifted one of your legs onto the cushion. This gave him the perfect view up your skirt and he slowly tugged it down to cover you.

Taking the hand towel, he rubbed down your thigh and you closed your eyes at that. He must’ve soaked it in warm water because it felt very soothing on your bare skin. When you opened your eyes, you couldn’t look away from him as he continued to rub calming circular motions into your skin with his hand. His hair had fallen into his eyes and you wanted more than anything to run your fingers through his hair. The hand that wasn’t holding the towel was also caressing the skin on your other thigh. You wondered if he knew he was doing that but didn’t want him to stop, so you kept your mouth shut.

“Good?” he asked with a laugh when your head fell against the back of the couch, eyes closing in complete submission.

He grabbed onto your angled leg that wasn’t injured, straightening it so your foot was resting between him and the back of the couch. Placing the hand towel on the coffee table, he stared at your wound.

“Shit,” he groaned. “This must hurt a lot. What the hell did you do to yourself?”

“I, uh… I fell into a puddle. There was this giant tree branch there and it got me good, I guess.”

He laughed out loud at that, pulling a fist to his mouth as he did. You couldn’t help but smile back, glad that someone found it funny. Although, it was kind of ridiculous so maybe you did, too. He had the most beautiful laugh, like music to your ears. You knew he could make you smile just the sound of his laughter.

“I thought I told you to watch where you’re going,” he said with a playful smile.

You’d been watching his hand as it gripped your upper thigh, but then your head snapped up to look at him when he said that. He had said something like that back when he followed you off the bus.

He didn’t seem to remember, though, so you said quietly, “Sorry… I was kind of in a hurry to get home.”

“Nah. If it was me, I would’ve wiped out so much harder.”

The two of you smiled at each other for a moment, and then he glanced back down at your thigh. Your wound went even under your skirt and you could tell he wanted to ask you if he could move it but also didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Maybe he didn’t want you to get any ideas after what happened at his party. You had basically thrown yourself at him, after all.

You pulled at your skirt, not so much to reveal your underwear but enough to see the rest of your wound. Your eyes widened, not realizing it went so far up your thigh. Jungkook looked at the band-aids he placed on the coffee table for a moment, then said, “We’re going to need some more band-aids.”

He went to move off the couch, but you grabbed his arm. “It’s okay! I’ll be fine, but thank you.”

Slowly, he relaxed back into the couch, your hand still grasping onto his arm. You didn’t let go of him and he noticed as he stared at your hand.

“Jungkook,” you said in a small voice. “Why didn’t you want to have sex with me? Is there something wrong with me?”

His eyes widened at that, not expecting those words to come out of your mouth at all. Were you crazy? Had you been listening to him at all?

“Maybe you forgot but I seem to remember having a fucking monologue about how much I want to have sex with you,” he said with a laugh but scooted away from you on the couch. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Don’t say that.”

Your hand dropped into your lap when he pulled away. “Then why did you not want to last week?”

“I told you. I don’t want you to make a mistake. What we would be doing would only be physical, and you deserve so much more than that,” he said softly.

“Why do you keep deciding things for me like I’m a child?”

You stood up, pulling your leg out from him and the couch. Grabbing your backpack leant against the coffee table, you placed its straps on your shoulders and pulled back your hair, heading for the door.

Instead of sitting there like you expected him to, he followed after you and placed a hand on the door when you went to open it. You jumped back, surprised, and clutched your hands to your chest. He closed his eyes, then opened them slowly, his pupils dilated with what appeared to be raw need.

“You’re not making things easy for me.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand you at all, Jungkook. You’ll have sex with all these other girls but you won’t with me. Why am I so different? Is it because I’m inexperienced?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“You’re special.”

“Special?”

“I don’t want to just fuck you. I was going to… I was going to ask you out that night but I— I don’t— I stopped inviting them over and haven’t had sex for two weeks now. I wanted to do this right.”

You closed your mouth, all the words on the tip of your tongue fading into the air. He was going to ask you out? Why didn’t he?

“I like you so much that it drives me crazy.”

“I like you, too,” you said quietly, “but you seem to think I’m this good girl that isn’t deserving of anybody. You’re not my father or my brother or— Maybe you were right about me when we first met but… I’m attracted to you, too, and it wouldn’t be a mistake if we had sex right now. I promise you it wouldn’t be a mistake.”

Your backpack straps began to slip down the length of your arms and you let it fall to the ground with a thud. Taking a step closer, you lifted up your skirt and grabbed one of Jungkook’s hands. Without losing your nerve, you placed it over your drenched underwear and his eyes went wide.

“I want you, Jungkook.”

His head fell against the door, closing his eyes in almost defeat. He groaned out loud, cursing to himself. He grabbed your arm and pulled you against him.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard.”

And then he was turning you around, pressing you into the door. His hands blindly pulled at the hem of your skirt, it pooling around your ankles a second later. He pressed his chest firmly against your back with him breathing heavily into your neck. You could feel his erection against you and sighed.

It was such a relief for you when he slipped his hand into your underwear.

“You’re fucking drenched,” he whispered into your ear, then licked the shell of your ear. “You don’t even need foreplay, do you?”

You wiggled your hips against his crotch in confirmation and he groaned at that.

“Fucking humor me, though, will you?”

And then his fingers were rubbing furiously at your sweet spot in a circular motion. Your head began to spin as you thought he knew exactly where to touch you. Thinking back to when you masturbated to him fucking you, you realized it felt so much better having someone else touch you. Your hips ground against him each time he gently pinched you in a certain spot and you exhaled shakily, enough to fog the door’s glass panels. You looked to his porch and saw two kids playing football across the street and panicked. Could they see what the two of you were doing right now?

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” he suddenly asked, then pushed you more into the door, giving you no room to move away. “That someone could see you, see my fingers fucking into your pussy. You want them to see us, don’t you?”

You closed your eyes and moaned loudly at his crude words, not willing yourself to agree with him out loud but knowing he was right.

“But we’re not going to give them a show—at least not today.”

Then he was pulling you away from the door without taking his fingers out of your underwear. He rubbed you even as he walked you over to the dining room table, then bent you over. Just as one of his fingers went to your entrance, he pulled it out of you, sucking the digit into his mouth slowly.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked you, smoothing his hands over the skin on your back. Pushing up your shirt, he began to lick and kiss at the skin there before tugging at your underwear. “Huh?”

You heard him undoing his belt buckle, then his jeans fell to the floor a second later. You didn’t hear him pulling down his boxers and realized with a low moan from the back of your throat he hadn’t been wearing any. Your underwear was still around your heel, but he didn’t seem to care. You looked over your shoulder at him to see him looking down at you with a smirk on his face as he stroked himself, then bit your lip when he rolled a condom over the shaft. With each fast movement of his hand up and down his cock, he made sure the condom was secure before he grabbed your hip, using his other hand to guide himself into you slowly. It already felt bigger than your fingers and you groaned, but it wasn’t an unwelcome stretch. He was so thick that even the tip was stroking your walls, leaving no room for even one of his fingers. After the head of his cock was inside of you, he moved his hand away to grip the other side of your hip and thrusted himself forward to slide into you the rest of the way.

Your mouth fell open in a silent moan, fingers clenching and unclenching at the feeling. He wasn’t moving but you couldn’t form a single competent sentence, amazed at the feeling of him inside of you. There was a small spark deep within you that seemed to flicker on just by the thrust of his hips.

“You okay?” he asked after he stopped moving, rubbing circles in your hips.

You nodded at that and that was all he needed to finally start pounding into you. Moaning into the table, your nails scratched at the wood. You started to press yourself back against him and not just lay there while he fucked you, and then he was pressing down on your back.

“Curve your back downwards,” he whispered into your ear, and you did exactly that.

Almost immediately, you moaned out loudly as you could feel him brushing against a spot inside of you that had you seeing stars. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and he was grunting as his hips smacked against your ass, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. He kept changing the pace—from fast pumps to deep thrusts.

“Can we…” you breathed as he kept hitting that spot inside of you. “Can we move to the couch?”

He didn’t answer you, but simply pulled you against him. Pulling out of you with a wet squelch, you whined lowly, but then he was turning you around and kissing you so hard that you could feel your lips begin to bruise. Your lips were tingling as he pulled away but then his lips brushed against your own again.

“Arms up,” he growled into your mouth, then kissed your bottom lip.

You lifted your arms and he easily pulled your shirt over your head, then reached behind you to undo your bra. At the sight of your bare chest, he cursed to himself, then walked himself backwards and pulled you with him to keep kissing you until you both toppled over onto the couch. He flipped you over onto your back, your hair framing your face beautifully. His eyes softened at that and he settled himself on top of you, kissing your neck, the shell of your ear, until he reached your chest. His tongue swirled around one of your nipples and you moaned loudly, cradling his head to your chest, then he was giving the same attention to your other nipple.

His hand reached down to firmly grasp himself and slip back into you, the both of you moaning in unison. Your underwear was still wrapped around one of your feet somehow and he ran his other hand that was rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger down your stomach torturously slow and to your leg to grab the delicate fabric and toss it somewhere behind him. Then, he was smoothing his hand back up your leg to wrap it around his waist, anchoring you to him. On instinct, you wrapped your other leg around him and he started to hit that same spot he was hitting when you were bent over on the dining room table. You twitched in pleasure and he caught that, smiling down at you.

Your hands bunched the fabric of his t-shirt around his hips, dragging it upwards until he pulled it the rest of the way off and threw it in the same general direction as your underwear.

“You’re always so cute, even like this,” he whispered against your mouth when he leaned down to kiss you, wrapping his arms around your back to pull you up so you were sitting in his lap. Thrusting into you from below with fast strokes, your head fell back and your lips disconnected. The hands at your back kept you from falling over, then slipped to hold your ass cheeks in his hands.

You moaned loudly, then found his lips again blindly, breathing into his mouth, “This feels s-so g-g-good, Jungkook.”

“Yeah?” he asked, licking and biting at your swollen lips.

“You’re so big and…” you started to say, then your mouth opened into a silent scream when he gave a deep thrust in appreciation. “You’re getting to places even m-my fingers couldn’t r-reach. I can feel you in my t-throat.”

“Your fingers, huh?”

Your eyes snapped open at that, realizing you just admitted you masturbated out loud. Instead of asking you to go into more detail, he started thrusting into you even faster and your breasts bounced with each movement of his hips.

“H-Harder,” you managed to whisper in a hoarse voice.

Instead of saying anything, he obeyed you and you ran your fingers through his hair, your nails digging into his scalp. You glanced down at where he disappeared inside you with each thrust, whimpering at the sight. His hips were a blurred movement and you felt like he was impaling you on his cock. That spark you felt the moment he thrusted into you felt like it was about to explode any second. He growled into your mouth but kept going at the same pace, your moans urging him to go even faster. You could feel yourself almost reach your peak, but then he was spurting his cum once, twice, three times into the latex condom.

You whined when he pulled out of you, then felt him moving further down the couch to pull you by the back of your legs so his face was inches from your vagina. He looked up at you, as if asking if you were okay with this, and you nodded frantically. He chuckled and it vibrated against you, still sensitive from how hard he’d been fucking into you just minutes ago. He licked an experimental strip from the bottom of you all the way to where your lips met, sucking your bundle of nerves between his lips. You’d been so close already that you knew it wouldn’t take you long to reach your first orgasm.

One of your hands fell back against the arm of the couch and gripped it tightly. When he added in a finger and started pushing it in and out of you at a slow yet deep pace, you arched your back. He alternated from using his fingers to penetrate you and circle your clit. Your hips began to grind against his face, whispering desperately for him to go faster, to go harder.

Your legs closed instinctively when the hot feeling inside of you felt like it was about to burst, having never orgasmed before. It made you want him to stop but have him keep going at the same time. He easily pried your legs apart and held them there as he went back to using his tongue instead of his fingers. You couldn’t control yourself as you kept moaning—and loudly, at that.

And then you were coming apart on his tongue.

He pulled back with your cum coating his chin, then wiped it off with the back of his hand. After a few seconds, your eyes opened tiredly, beaming up at him.

“Did you…” you tried to ask, but were panting too heavily. “Did you mean… what you said?”

He stood up and removed the condom, throwing it into the trash. Pulling your spent form up so that he could situate you between him and the back of the couch, you stared at each other happily.

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific,” he said with a soft laugh.

“About…” you trailed off and your fingers danced across the skin of his sweaty chest. The fringe that always fell in his eyes was matted to his forehead but you could feel a bead of sweat dripping down the side of your face, too. He looked into your eyes, curling you more into your chest. “…going out with me?”

“You’re so fucking cute, you know that?” he whispered, pecking your lips once, then another before he pulled away. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know. I just didn’t think you’d want a relationship with me and just wanted to…” You hesitated, then continued, “fuck.”

He sat up slightly. “Let me just remind you that this happened because of you. I wanted to wait but you practically threw yourself at me and gave me no choice but to give into your demands.”

Your cheeks burned at that, then you were shoving at his chest. “That’s not—! I didn’t throw myself at yo— Fine, maybe I did, but who was the one who followed me into a bathroom just to tell me how badly he wanted to fuck me, huh? I seem to remember that was you.”

“Say fuck just one more time,” he said, and you sat up, rolling your eyes.

“Why? You say it enough for the both of us.”

He laughed but didn’t push you any further. Standing to his feet, he offered you the palm of his hand and you accepted it. You looked around for your underwear, then walked over to it in a pile with his jeans and boxers. Just as you started to slide them up your legs, however, he stopped you.

“Take those panties off right now.”

You paused, the delicate fabric halfway up your thighs, and looked over at him in surprise. Did he want to… Already?

“Not for that, but you should try living the exhibitionist lifestyle,” he said with a grin. “Feel how freeing it is. Walk with me.”

When you didn’t move, he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, tossing your panties behind him once again. You pounded your fists against his back but not with any force behind them. He just laughed and you felt the vibrations, smiling into his bare back.

“So, I’m thinking we go to a drive-in theater tomorrow.”

You perked up at that as he set you down on the kitchen counter. “Really? I love the movies.”

“That’s nice but we’re not going there to see a movie,” he said with a sly grin.

“We’re not going to be driving there naked, are we?”

He moved to take some lunch meat out of the fridge along with some mayonnaise, then went through the cabinets overhead to pull out some white bread. When he dug a butterknife out of one of the drawers, you hopped off the counter and poked at his cheek.

“We’re not, right?” you asked again, but he ignored you. “Jungkook?!”

And that’s when one of his roommates walked in. He let out a sound of protest when one of his shoes kicked at your skirt by the front door, then his eyes fell onto your naked figures arguing in the kitchen.

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE, JUNGKOOK!” he yelled, dropping his backpack to the floor with a thud. “How many fucking times do I have to tell you to put some clothes on—?! Who is sh— I’m going back on campus. I hate you all.”

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