#hhdd

If it were up to you, you never would’ve left your bed to begin with, but the night out was a reward, of sorts, for Venom; it had been a whole month since he tried to eat somebody’s head, and for some goddamn reason, he wanted to celebrate at a rave. At least Halloween provided a convenient cover for him to get out and stretch his “legs.” Nobody had given him a second glance, except those who wanted to compliment Eddie on his “Creature from the Black Lagoon” costume. 

When you look back over your shoulder, Eddie is staring unabashedly at your ass. The hem of your cheerleader costume skirt is so short he can probably see how wet you are.

Unless someone was looking closely, it would’ve been easy to miss the tendrils of black that kept sliding up the front of your skirt all night. Venom’s been teasing you since you first got out on the dancefloor, bringing you close and pulling away again, alternating between feather-light touches and deep, sudden penetration… for an asexual alien goo who can’t actually “get off,” he sure gets off on torturing you. 

“Fucking finally,” Eddie says, crowding up behind you as you shove your key into the lock impatiently. He grabs you by the hips, grinding against you, letting you feel how hard he is -- because he gets off on knowing that you feel good. 

He’s been hard since he realized what was going on, back at the club. You bit your lip, leaning against him for support, lashes fluttering in spite of your best efforts to stop your eyes from rolling back in your head, and he groaned, low and ragged under the music, tongue swiping out to wet his puffy lower lip like he could already taste you. 

He’s done waiting. The second the door slams shut, he’s on you, one hand fisting in your hair as the other yanks at his belt. You stumble as he pushes you back, and you almost grab for him instinctively, but Venom’s got your wrists, twining around them and pulling them over your head, pinning you against the wall so you’re at Eddie’s mercy. 

“Mine,” Eddie growls, hitching your leg up around his waist. He shoves your panties out of the way and slides the head of his cock up against your slickness, and both of you let out obscenely desperate moans when he thrusts into you. 

“As long as you’re there, I mostly want you to wriggle.” Angel grinned evilly up at Spike, his hands coming to rest on his slender hips as he bucked up into him. “C’mon, William, gimme a sweet little ride, hmm? Always did look so pretty squirmin’ on my cock, my petulant boy, pretending to the last that he wasn’t right where he wanted to be. Fuck...yeah, that’s it, Spike.”

Spike let out a moan to match Angel’s as he lifted himself up and sunk down on the hard cock that had been pressed against him for the past ten minutes. 

“Angel...oh, God!” Spike swiveled his hips slowly, letting himself adjust to the girth of the length filling him so completely, his head falling back on his shoulders as his eyes slipped closed, his mouth open in silent rapture. Fingers gripped tight at his hips, sure to bruise in the best ways as he rocked on his Grandsire’s cock just the way he knew he liked. “Two years is too bloody long to go without this glorious fucking cock in me, Da, was bloody stupid of me to stay away so long.”

“Maybe now you’ll remember that the next time then, huh? Maybe now you’ll think better than to run off on your own, not letting me know whether you’re still out there or if you’ve been dusted.” Angel growled possessively as he bucked up into Spike’s slick, clenching hole, the past two years of worryangerwantneed washing over him as he drank in the sight of Spike’s arching body moving over him. “Told you I wanted things to be different this time, and you took off, boy. Left before I could prove it as the truth; told you, Will, I’m not him anymore. Not afraid to tell you, to show you, how much you mean to me.”

“I know, Da. I know, now. ‘N I’m sorry, luv.” Spike sped his movements, feeling himself closing in on the all-encompassing orgasm that had eluded him since he’d left Angel behind. “‘M sorry. Didn’t think it wise to believe it, to hope for it, that you could ever love me, the way he never really did.”

“We’ve both loved you, Spike, sweet William. Each in our way. His just wasn’t the way you needed. That’s over now.”

“I know, Sire. I believe you. Now...make love to me?”

Angel groaned and flipped the two of them over, Spike’s legs wrapping around his hips as he pulled back to thrust into him, pushing them both towards oblivion.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

~~~~

Heyo (Intro) - Spade introduces himself and Map.

My Name is Spade - I don't think I need to explain this one.

The Map Rap (Feat. WoopDooCreations) - Spade and Map get into an argument when Map realizes he can actually rap.

Party at the A-Party-Ment - Spade invites all of his friends to the apartment for a party (Except Bucket, of course).

The Forest (Skit) - The first skit of the album. Spade decides to take up lumberjacking. It...doesn't go well.

Dig Up Some Trouble - Spade rants about shovels? I think?

Game Over - Spade complains about not being able to beat a game he likes.

One Epic Dream - Spade talks about a weird nightmare dream he had.

Hip Hop Diggity Do - The title track, which describes a dance routine.

Chipmunk Punk - A chipmunk sings the chorus. I don't know what else to say.

Nachos - Nachos. Nachos. They're better than tacos.

Bucket (Skit) - The second skit. Spade asks Bucket to star on his album, but she turns him down. He's disappointed, until he meets Bowling Ball's Bow on Fire, which leads to...

We Are Awesome! (Feat. BBBOF) - Spade and BBBOF singing about how awesome they both are.

As a child, despite the young age you were, and despite the gazes of pity to you and scorn to your parents, you were able to do everything around the house alone. You were able to master the art of clean laundry when you were just 9 years old, and you were able to cook kimchi stew by the age of 10. Despite the young age you were, you were able to read between the lines that your parents were not able to provide for you a lot of things your fellow kid peers had. Your parents often lamented the fact that you acted a lot more grown-up than your actual age, and there were more times than you can count where your mother held you close and sobbed a profuse amount of apologies.

 But you yourself didn’t particularly mind. Well, sometimes, it was just a bit too hard to handle. Like the times where you burned your finger on the stove because the stool you stood on to increase your height fell over. Or the times you became toppled by huge piles of laundry. Or the times where your parents screamed at each other in the middle of the night. But you weren’t lonely. Because you always had a friend by your side. A little boy, who came to comfort you whenever you cried. Because you only ever cried in front of him, and not ever your parents. “Don’t cry,” he would say. “I’ll always be with you. Right by your side. I promise.” And he took your little pinky and he hooked it with yours. “Promise.”   

That boy was your literal sunshine, the sunshine you liked to chase after. But the more you chased him, the farther he got away.

You just wanted to enjoy a marathon of Riverdale. That’s all you wanted (at least for now). But you had another guest in your house, and that guest was Jimin. There were many problems with that.

“Hey. Pass me those chips,” Jimin pleads with a voice half an octave higher than his usual tone, pointing  towards the chip.

“Um. Well, Jimin, sir. They are kinda closer to you than they are closer to me.”

“But I’m more lazier than you. Please?”

And you felt your eyes roll to the back of your head at the fact you were going to give him the said chips.

You hated when he gave you that goddamn face: the eye smile that elevated his cheeks to his puppy-like eyes but you don’t know how he made it so...seductive.

And you hated when he inadvertently flirted like this.

You reached for the bag that was on his side of the sofa, meaning you had to shift your body over Jimin’s.

And the number one thing that scared you was if he could hear your drumming heartbeat or not.

You and Jimin were the best of friends since freshman year of high school. And during those years of high school, you’ve come to harbor more feelings for him than you intended. But well, you didn’t really wish to carry these said feelings.

After all, you knew he didn’t feel the same.

It kills you that you had to hide your feelings while keeping the same proximity-which happens to be really close- and it didn’t quite help that Jimin knew no limit to his clingy show of affection.

You were in your senior year of high school, and you would be soon celebrating  4 years of friendship with Jimin. But you were hoping that you and Jimin would grow apart after this fourth year, from differences in future plans, different colleges, and all the forthcoming adulting. You thought distance would alleviate your problem. You loved Jimin, but it felt like you couldn’t breathe anymore. So Plan A was to apply to different colleges, possibly somewhere far far away so he can’t hunt you down to get him a massage or Friday movie nights anymore, but close enough to call him every month or so.

Well. Plan A didn’t really work out. Not quite.

Turns out Jimin was quite adamant about attending the same college as you. So no matter how many times you switched decisions on what universities you’d attend, the devil named Jimin would follow through. His major just happened to be offered at every college you chose, and the colleges you chose happened to be decent colleges for both you and him. You gave up after a while, because he would have soon grown suspicious as to why you would be going through such great lengths to attend a different college as he did. The way he would be clingy would unconsciously give you hope. But you wouldn’t let your heart weaken. Because you would be the one (reluctant) consultant to Jimin’s love life. And his interest wasn’t you.

Plan B? You spent hours, days, and months trying to devise a Plan B: How to either rid of the butterflies invading your stomach or rid of Jimin. Forget about him, your mind says. Don’t let him go, your heart says. And you were just as lost in a labyrinth working on a solution to a problem called you caught unrequited feelings for your best friend.

You spent your night marathoning Riverdale with Jimin. Even though the day after was a school night, he successfully convinced you to sacrifice your hours of sleep for watching it for him, since both of your parent work until the late hours of the night. And you swore in your heart it was because the show was so interesting that you gave in in the end.

The next morning, you were walking to school as if you were a zombie. Your mouth widens longer than you expected as your eyes cloud with tears.

“Damn girl, that was a big yawn,” your other close friend, Hana, comments as she side-eyes you.

“I was forced to watch Riverdale with Jimin until late last night,” you sleepily say as you wipe your tears in the corner of your eye.

Hana rolls her eyes in response.

“Mmhmm. Forced. Yes. I would believe you more if you weren’t so whipped for that boy.”

You cringe.

“Hanaaaa.”

“Girl, you gotta be stronger. I know you might not like it but you have to put some effort on your part. Like, learn to say no. Or else just when are you going to drop this unhealthy push-and-pull of your feelings, like you oh so promised to yourself?”

“You know it’s hard. He’s my best friend. He’s been there for me through thick and thin. And to try and cut him off from my life like that means losing someone important to me.”

Because the truth is, you were actually  relieved deep down in your heart that your Plan A didn't work.

Hana looks at you blankly before speaking.

“Y’know, are you sure-”

“Hana.”

“No, I honestly may not be an expert on relationships, but the way I see it, he has feelings for you too.”

You sigh. There it is. Only if she knew.

“No. He doesn’t have feelings for me.”

You suddenly hear a low whistle.

“Ooooh. Is my sweetheart heartbroken?”

You turn around faster than the speed of light at that familiar but unwanted voice. What better person to be there than Jeon Jungkook. The ever-so-flashy brown-haired boy walks towards you two with an aura of flare. Hana turns around and widens her eyes.

“What? Jeon Jungkook? Y/N, why is that Jeon Jungkook talking to you?”

Jungkook feigns a hurt facade but smirks soon after. He answered for you considering you were too speechless to respond back in time.

“Hmm? Me and Y/N go way back. It hurts to see she hasn’t told anyone. That we’re friends.”

Hana looks at you incredulously.

You guiltily look away from her shocked gaze and you don’t blame her for her reaction.

After all, it was Jeon Jungkook, the school’s number one playboy, as well as the richest student at that since he was the son of the CEO whose company’s name was pretty much ubiquitous: the Hwayang group.

You finally regain composure and shoot him a glare.

“Jungkook. First of all, I told you time and time again- don’t call me sweetheart. And second of all- we aren’t friends.”

Jungkook’s face did not falter one bit; he maintained his confident composure.

“I guess we aren’t. Unless we are more than that. I mean, if that blonde boy doesn’t want you, I’m always free.”

“Wha-”

When you were about to ask him, How the hell did he know, the timing couldn’t be any worse and the bell for the first class rang.

“Well, sweetheart. Catch you later. My offer still stands, any time,” he winked. And just like that, he breezed past through.

And you see Hana mouth the words: Tell me later. Everything.

The time soon reached lunch, and up until then you have devised numerous ways to tell Hana “everything” like she asked for. You and Hana sat in a discreet table in the corner of the large and bustling school cafeteria. As soon as you set down the food, you glance up quietly at Hana, hoping that she isn’t mad.  

And when Hana looks at you with eyes saying that she won’t speak until you speak first, you let out a sigh and gave in.

Hana chokes on and splurts out her juice.

“What?! Childhood friends?! With the Jeon Jungkook?!”

“Shhhhh!!!! Not. So. Loud!”

Your eyes dilate, and you swiftly look left and right of the school cafeteria to see if anyone heard.

After checking that no one did, you sighed a sigh of both relief and exhaustion. Hana’s shock was well-warranted. You were childhood friends with a rich as fuck boy who captured and destroyed girls’ hearts left and right.

“Yeah. So, correction: we were friends.”

“Oh...oh my god Y/N, so you were childhood friends with the one and only Jeon Jungkook, the son of the Hwayang group. Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

You looked down at your food.

“Because. It’s a fact I’d like to erase from my history,” you solemnly state.

It was true. You and Jungkook were the best of friends, starting from the wee ages of kindergarten. The friendship the two of you shared were perhaps bigger than the friendship you and Jimin had-that was saying a lot. Until a certain incident in middle school, as well as other life-changing events revolving around your family, made you wish you were never friends with him in the first place. At least that was what you told yourself for the past 5 years. You were really good at lying to yourself, after all.

“He...he changed. He was never...um. That person.”

You glance over where Jungkook sat. As usual, he was surrounded by the type of people you personally never wished to be involved with. You swear one was a daughter of a politician. You shudder at the way one girl’s arms cross around his neck.

Before there would be chance of eye contact, you quickly turn away.

The Jungkook you knew and loved as a child was that charming shy boy, the kind of quiet boy that was always polite to adults and children alike, and was known as the “Golden Child” for being virtually good at everything he did. But he was so humble which earned him no jealousy but instead support and popularity from everyone around him, including you. As close friends you were, your parents often praised him-praised him more than they should have praised you- but you were never envious of the attention he got. You were proud. He was your first love.

“But, a lot of things happened. And ultimately, Jungkook was never the same. So after that I decided not to associate myself with him. And besides, someone as high-profile as him shouldn’t be involved with me,” you finish off, clearly still confused.

You thought you knew him. You thought he changed. But it turns out you knew not much about him-back then, and even now. Maybe he was always like the person you see now.Maybe you just didn’t see the person pass the “Golden Child” he was. But even now, you firmly believe that the friendship you had was real. The truth is, you have always wanted to know. What was he hiding under God knows how many masks he uses for the sake of functioning in society? Hana looks at you for a good moment. She knew there were various other things that you weren’t telling her, but she just nodded.

“I see. Well, I guess that’s just how life works, isn’t it.”

“Yeah.”

So why now?

Since the beginning of the week, Jungkook has started approaching you on multiple occasions. All of a sudden.

Before, as in just a couple days ago, Jungkook had only approached you whenever you were with your parents, and even those times amount to no more than twice a year. Your parents, for some odd reason, doted on him so much. But for an even more odd reason, they were able to accept your blatant and sudden distaste for him so quickly. You just didn’t quite understand it.

“Hey, Y/N, Hana! Sorry I’m late.” Jimin arrived late to the show, and he had someone else with him. Your eyes widen to see the person beside Jimin.

“Guys, I want to introduce you guys to someone.”

Jimin grins a smile of a river as he blushes at the person he brought, and holds their hands up to show off the fact that they were intertwined.

“Meet Sohyun. She’s my girlfriend.”

As if the day couldn’t get any worse.

You felt sick to the stomach.

Girlfriend.

Sohyun, Jimin’s girlfriend.

Those three words combined together made a statement that repeated itself like a broken record player in your mind, and with each time you felt the need to throw up.

Sohyun was Jimin’s long time crush, and the subject of his constant love consultings he received from you. You knew that he was chasing after her, but listening to Jimin complain and pine all the time made it seem like she was never going to return his feelings. That part made you hope. Even though you seemingly convinced yourself not to- how could you not have hoped?

You don’t remember much of what happened after. You remember Hana trying to talk to you a couple of times, but you were completely shut off.

You normally would have gone home with Jimin or Hana, but as soon as school ended with the last bell of the day, you ran off. You wanted to avoid Jimin at all costs, because your feelings were in absolute disarray right now and if you weren't careful, you just might spill all of your feelings you kept bottled up inside for years.

You kept running, and you haven’t gone pretty far off campus until you felt a sudden grasp to your hand.

“Hey.”

Jungkook effortlessly caught up to your speed of running without so much as losing his breath. Damn, the kid had always been athletic, hadn’t he?

Why is it that bad things come together all at once?

“Jungkook, please leave me alone. I’m really not-”

“I know. That’s why I can’t leave you alone.”

“You...you know?”

He slowly nodded, his face an expression of something akin to concern.

You slowly grab your head and clench at your hair.

“You...God, you know...”

And at that moment, everything inside you burst. You were a ticking time bomb and Jungkook seemed to be the catalyst that would detonate just about everything you were holding in. You vehemently shook his grip off of you.

“So- so you knew! You knew about Jimin-you knew about my feelings for him. You knew that Jimin had a girlfriend, and that’s why you approached me for the past few days! So what, so you can enjoy seeing me suffer like you did during middle school? Is that it!?” you yelled, your face hot with red and your eyes brimming with tears.

“What? No, I-”

“Then why else? Why else would you suddenly pop up in my life again, and why  else would you approach me right now? You said you knew didn’t you? What, did you do a background check on me and him?”

You admit that reason was outside your mind right now. But still, in this moment, you believed you had gathered enough reasons to be pointing daggers at Jungkook right now. It was quite plausible that Jungkook could have done a background check on you or Jimin-he of course had the means to.And you were prepared for every single dagger you’d expect Jungkook to throw back. But instead, he remained silent for a while. The whole playboy attitude he always upheld was nowhere to be seen.

“No. I knew because I have always watched you. Watched you look at him, at least,” he muttered under his breath.

“...H-huh?”

What did he say?

He stared at you. His expression may have seemed blank to most people, but somehow, to you, it inscribed a certain emotion you cannot quite pinpoint. You were confused and the curiosity of this emotion’s name overtook you and your anger for a split second.

Who the hell was Jeon Jungkook again?

And then, his previous all-seriousness was dropped, and Jungkook gave you the smirk. The all-too-familiar smirk.

“Here, Y/N. If you need me, just give me a call. You know what? How’s this: we can start off pretending to be dating. So you can show that blonde boy he’s missing out. The offer still stands sweetheart,” he says, as he sticks a blue post-it note on the back of your palm. And with that, he walks away.

The post-it had his number and a message that said, “Netflix and Chill, Sweetheart”, in a surprisingly neat handwriting.

Shit. What a dick. He knows I can’t throw it away.

Because somewhere in your heart, you knew that there was something more to your- his past than you knew. Because somewhere in your heart, you knew that you were kept hidden in the dark about some things that went on in his life.

Because somewhere. Somewhere deep in your heartbroken-not-too-long-ago and also heartbroken-a-long-time-ago heart, you were absolutely fucking thrilled he was back in your life.

“God, don’t call me sweetheart,” you muttered to thin air.

When you returned home, Jimin was waiting on the sofa. Ah, well, but of course. It seemed that your little escapade from before lost its initial purpose. You cursed the fact that he was able to come and go about your house like his own home, at least in that moment.

“Hey Y/N, I’m really sorry I suddenly sprung the thing between me and Sohyun. I’ve been meaning to tell you-”

“No, Jimin. It’s fine.”

You give him your utmost smile, but even you knew that it was shaped with forcefulness.

It wasn’t fine.

But you were going through a turmoil of emotions right now, both from the reunion with Jungkook and the heartbreak from Jimin. 

You were just so tired.

“...Are you sure it’s fine?” Jimin whispered.

“...What?”

And it hits you.

The way Jimin was looking at you.

Pity.

Ah, so he knew. Of course. If Jungkook knew the way you were looking at him, it would be weirder if Jimin didn’t. But you weren’t having it. Honestly, you were just so mentally exhausted you partly felt relieved for getting rid of that constant anxiety that he'll find out your feelings. But at the same time, your pride wasn’t letting you be relieved completely. So was your adamant and foolish hope to retain the friendship that the two of you had.

Just the cherry on top to one of the worst days of my life, huh?

“Yes. I’m fine. I know you always liked her. Congratulations. Jimin, I know you’re happy, but I had a long day. So please, for today, just go home.”

Jimin couldn’t speak. And without saying anything more, he turned around and left.

I’m sorry, Jimin. I’m sorry for liking you.

You ran to your room and slammed the door behind you.

You weren’t about to lose everything. You were going to turn this around.

You were not about to lose your best friend.

And most importantly, maybe you just needed an excuse to see him.

If you needed to pull off an impromptu one-act quicker than Shakespeare would have done it just to conceal your feelings for your best friend, then so be it.

You took out your phone and entered in the number that was on the post-it he gave you. Actually, you already knew his number by heart (hell, it hadn’t changed since middle school), but to somehow convince yourself of whatever action you were about to do, you pretended not to know.

After around 2 rings, Jungkook picked up.

You didn’t waste any time.

“Hey. Is that offer still on?”

And you could hear the smirk on the other end, which made you cringe, but you endured it.

“I knew you’d ask, sweetheart.”

-soo. I’m not too happy with this but I thought I would put it out anyways. I tried to make it the way I wanted it but it turned too messy...lmao

-Pt. 1 is more of the prologue I guess. From pt 2 and on, there should be plot twists and stuff :)

You twist your hips, riding him harder, feeling the heat in your belly flare brighter with every deep, clenching drag of friction. 

“Such a nice thick cock,” you tell him hoarsely. “Gonna fuck myself on it until I come, sweetheart. Gonna use you like my own personal toy, and you’re gonna shut up and take it, aren’t you?” 

Dean draws a breath like he’s going to say something, but then he opens his eyes and looks up at you, and he just stares helplessly, whimpering, before letting his eyes flutter closed again. He’s been like this ever since he saw you in your costume, with the sword and the hat and the sleek black knee-high boots… and the mask, of course. Especially the mask. 

He sounded so hopeful, when he asked you to leave the mask on; it’s not like you could say no. 

“Can’t hold on much longer,” Dean groans. “Feels so fuckin’ good.” 

“Look at me,” you order, and when he does, you slow down, rolling your hips in steady figure eights that feel like sin for you and torture for him. You arch your back, pinching your own nipples and palming your tits, putting on a show for him and enjoying the way his mouth goes slack and his eyes lose their focus. 

“Please,” he chokes out. 

You slap him again, this time across the other cheek, and his head snaps to the side at the sharp impact. 

He kneads his way down your spine, knuckles circling in a slow, steady rhythm that makes it even harder to cling to consciousness — it doesn’t help that it’s almost dawn, or that you’re completely and utterly fucked-out, satiated, muscles aching with the satisfying exhaustion that comes from three rounds of really good sex. 

Steve, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to know the meaning of satiated; he sweeps his thumbs down from the small of your back, massaging your ass slowly, and you know he’s staring, admiring the bruises he left earlier and the beard burn that decorates your inner thighs. It doesn’t surprise you in the slightest when he shifts his weight off your legs and nudges your knees apart; you arch your back, letting him look, but it all feels dreamlike and distant. 

One meaty thumb hooks into you from behind, and he tucks the rest of his hand under you, twisting his wrist at the perfect angle for you to rock down against his cupped palm. 

“Love fucking you when you’re already all wet and full of my come,” he whispers, and you shiver, squeezing around his thick knuckle as he rubs your g-spot. “Such a mess — could slide right in, hold you down, take you just like this…” 

“‘Fraid I’ll fall asleep halfway through,” you mumble, but you tilt your hips, encouraging him, and he pushes your legs farther apart, guiding the hot, silky head of his cock to your entrance.