#OOF WOULD ALMOST FORGET THANK YOU

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 3 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: a power outage, Jungkook being a menace as per always, getting stood up for Valentine's Day, falling on a patch of ice, alcohol, curses, peach, OC gets a little jealous, explicit content: teasing?, dom!Jungkook, big dick!Jungkook, sex toy (vibrator), male and female masturbation, praising, cum play (don't be stupid), fingering

☆word count: 13.2k

☆a/n: this is like one of my fav chapters in this whole series, and also the one inspired by jungkook's iconic live with the candle and the white dress shirt and oof :') hope you enjoy it!! Thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Thursday, February 14th 

Sometimes, the universe aligns to create such a shitty day that you think your life is a joke. A cruel joke, and you’re just the sitcom character that people use to make themselves feel better.

Today has been one of those days. You woke up late, somehow not hearing your alarm, and got to your midterm so late you didn’t have time to finish. At least you were confident in the answers that you did write down, so you think there’s a chance you’ll still pass. 

Then, you forgot your student ID, and the lady at the cafeteria refused to let you eat even though she’s seen you almost every day of the semester so far. Nabi offered you some of her salad, but you felt bad and barely ate.

Then the rain started – freezing rain at that – and you had to run to the other building for your genetics class, ending with your hair half frozen and the knowledge that you’re going to get sick by tomorrow.

Genetics class in and of itself is fine. Your stomach gurgling all through the class isn’t, and you’ve noticed people looking at you where you’re sitting, every time your stomach thinks it’s a whale and it needs to sing to its fellow mates.

During break, someone offers you a protein bar, and you take it with cheeks burning, thanking them profusely. Though you hate the taste of protein bars, and you struggle to finish it without puking on the desk. You power through, and then the class resumes, and you try to focus. It’s hard, and when you receive a text from Hoseok, you stop pretending that you’re listening.

[2:47 pm] Hobi: have u seen the weather outside? [2:47 pm] You: yeah it’s trash. I think I’m still half frozen [2:49 pm] Hobi: don’t have power at my place anymore [2:50 pm] Hobi: and it looks dangerous to drive

You know exactly what’s coming. It shouldn’t even come as a surprise – you don’t know why you agreed to meet up on Valentine’s Day. Yet, you’ve been looking forward to it all day, perhaps because it’s been so shit even hanging out with Hoseok on this day of celebration of love seemed better.

[2:50 pm] Hobi: any chance I can get a raincheck?

You want to bash your head on the desk, and of course, the professor chooses this exact moment to call you out for being on your phone. You flush a deep red, mumbling an apology as you put your phone face down on the desk. Everyone’s looking at you, and from where you’re sitting at the back of the class you can see that half the people aren’t even taking notes. You think they’re full of shit for glaring at you, but you can’t help the way you turn crimson, and Nabi stifles a laugh next to you.

“Shut up,” you whisper through gritted teeth, elbowing her in the ribs. 

She shrugs innocently, and then her eyes slide back to the professor as he resumes the class. Not wanting to risk it, you focus too, and it seems the shame is what you need to finally concentrate because you find yourself typing away on the computer, describing the pictures in the PowerPoint slides so you can understand them later.

The lights go out five minutes before the end of the class. The projector shuts down in time, a clear indication that the college has run out of power too – something that rarely ever happens unless it’s the end of the world outside.

There’s a series of gasps, and the professor looks so jaded at the front of the class that you wouldn’t be surprised if he’s made of the actual precious stone. He looks towards the door, where you can see that the light has also gone out in the hallway.

Without even a glance at the class, he slams his laptop shut, heaving out a sigh.

“Class dismissed for today, we don’t have enough time left to wait for the power to come back on.” 

It doesn’t even take half a second before everyone is starting to put their stuff away, the class suddenly overcome with a cacophony of sounds, and Nabi turns to you.

“Who were you texting during class?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“Shut up.” You put your laptop in your bag, chugging the rest of your water bottle before you stuff it next to the laptop. “Hobi cancelled on me.”

Of course the whole friend group now knows about you two. You have Hoseok to blame for that, and his incredibly good idea to have sex at a party last week, where Yoongi walked in on the two of you. You’ve never seen Yoongi look more uncomfortable before in your life and, to your surprise, he’s been teased about the situation a lot more than you or Hoseok. It’s still a relief because you were afraid the friend group would go to shit if people knew, but now it seems it’s only solidified it even more.

“Bruh,” Nabi lets out. “Why?”

You motion to the dead neon lights over your heads. “The weather. He doesn’t have power anymore.”

“Shit.” You finish packing your stuff and you’re walking out of the class when she continues, “That’s wild though, didn’t think the freezing rain would hit that bad.”

A girl in front of you turns as if summoned. “They’re saying it’s going to be the worst storm of the century.” She points her phone towards you and Nabi, screen first. “Look, tons of trees have already fallen.”

Your eyes widen, because indeed she’s showing a picture from a group chat, of a tree having fallen on someone’s poor car. You wince in time with Nabi.

“RIP to whoever’s car that is,” you answer.

The girl nods, a wistful expression taking over her features. “That would be my boyfriend’s.”

You don’t talk more after that, and she jogs to join her friends closer to the stairs. You take that as an opportunity to finally reply to Hoseok, grabbing your phone out of the pocket of your coat.

[3:59 pm] You: power even went out in college so yeah, np!

Hoseok is quicker to reply than you’ve expected, saying that he’d like to meet up some time this weekend if you can. You don’t promise him anything, though you don’t really have plans as of right now.

You’ve just got a feeling that, if the storm is going to be the storm of the century, you won’t be hanging out for at least a few days. And the moment you step outside, you realize that it might even take more than a few days.

Trees have fallen everywhere. The sidewalk is entirely iced, and just by the time you’ve made it to the bus stop in front of the building, you’ve seen a car accident, both cars unable to stop at a stop sign. You figure taking the bus would be dangerous right now, and you settle on aiming for the pedestrian trail that leads to a park near your apartment, while Nabi parts to head towards the dorm, where apparently the power is still on. She tells you to let her know if you have power at home, and then you turn to head towards home, fishing your phone out of your pocket.

At least it’s not raining heavily as you walk. It’s the only positive thing in your day, and you hold onto your phone, sending a text to Taehyung to inform him of the situation.

You’re two minutes from home when you slip on a slab of ice, and you fall in a puddle of mud that stains your pale pants. You don’t even know how there can be mud when everything else is frozen, but of course, you had to fall in it. You assess yourself for a second, making sure nothing hurts too bad and then you mutter, “Of fucking course.”

You don’t even feel like getting up. If it wasn’t for the fact that the mud in which you’re sitting is freezing, you think you’d sit there until you died. You feel drained, and the weight of the day finally hits you head-on, bringing tears to your eyes.

Or maybe it’s just the embarrassment of walking home with your favourite pair of pants ruined. You don’t even know anymore; too much has happened in just a few hours for your brain to accept to be working anymore. You angrily blink the tears away, knowing you’ll break down the second you step inside your own home.

You can only hope that Jungkook is not going to be there. You hold onto that hope as you get to the building, and when you see the lights are out, the tears win against you. You carefully walk up the stairs – even they are covered in a thick sheet of ice – and surprisingly, you make it to the top unscathed.

You try to unlock the door with shaky fingers, struggling to find the hole through the blurriness of your tears, and you almost consider breaking the door down when it suddenly swings open in front of you.

“Peach?”

You’re aware that you’ve got fat tears rolling down your cheeks. You’re aware that you probably look a mess – you are a mess – but all you can do is stare at Jungkook.

“Is something wrong?” he asks, voice laced with concern as he steps aside to let you in.

You put your bag down, shrugging as he shuts the door behind him carefully, eyeing you as if you’re a specimen of a rare animal that’s going to run if he startles it. You refuse to meet his gaze, refuse to speak lest you embarrass yourself with crying even more. All you do is angrily wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand.

“Hey,” he says, and he puts a hand on your shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

You motion around. “What’s wrong?” You scoff, and out of spite, you force down the wave of tears that is threatening to meet the ones you’ve just dried on your cheeks. “Everything is fucking wrong.”

You glance at Jungkook, and he’s just watching, eyes widened. He seems startled by your outburst, and you think you see him gulp.

“Do you…” he trails off, glancing at the door. You only then realize that he’s clad in his winter coat, and he was probably on his way out when you arrived. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head no, hating yourself for the way your bottom lip trembles. 

His hand is still on your shoulder, and it slowly slides to your arm. “Did you hurt yourself?” he asks.

He’s only then realized that you’re half-covered in mud.

“I fell on a patch of ice,” you answer.

He makes you turn, assessing the damage. “If you soak your pants in water, I can get the stain out.”

“There’s no power.”

He turns you back around, offering you a small smile as he cocks an eyebrow arrogantly. “Astute.”

You want to punch him so bad, but what you do is laugh, which makes you think you’ve gone crazy.

“Water still runs, though,” he points out. “I’ll take care of it when the power comes back on. Doesn’t even need to be warm. You can save what’s left of the hot water for a shower if you want?”

He says it like a question, and you shrug your shoulders. A new tear rolls on your cheek, and to your surprise, Jungkook dries it with his thumb. He then points to your shoes.

“Take these off. You’re going to take a shower before the neighbours steal the water.”

“I don’t…” you trail off, as he’s just staring at you as if what you were going to say was going to be the stupidest shit he’s ever heard. As much as you want to hate him right now, the way his hand feels on your arm is making the anxiety lessen, until you realize that it’s going to be okay.

You can head to Ria and Nabi’s dorm right after a quick shower.

“M’kay,” you finally accept. “But you can go, you don’t have to stay.”

He shrugs, and when he lets go of your arm, you almost want to grab his hand and put it back there. “I was just going to charge my phone in my car. It can wait.”

You hold his gaze, feeling swallowed by his big doe eyes. It finishes drying the tears on your waterline, and you take a deep steadying breath. “M’kay,” you repeat.

At that he smirks, nodding his head once. He kicks off his shoes as you carefully take yours off, and then he makes grabby hands at you.

“What?” you ask.

“Your coat,” he answers. “I’ll put it in the closet for you.”

You slightly frown. “Why?”

“Because I’m trying to be nice?” When you remain silent, he chuckles. “You think I’m just going to let my best friend’s sister cry when she gets home?”

The words hurt, even though they’re just a statement of what you are to him. “You’re so random.”

He looks somehow offended. “Just give me your coat, peach.” He’s stern, and you have half a thought to mimic him, but you resist. When you hand him the coat, he offers you a grin. “See, that wasn’t so hard.”

Once again you surprise yourself by laughing, and the grin on his lips softens in a way that makes you warm inside.

“You’re annoying,” you whine.

He shrugs as he opens the closet. “Just go take a quick shower. Make sure to soak the pants too.”

“Yes, mom.”

He chokes on a snort. “Oof, no, don’t call me mom.”

You stifle a laugh, but a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. He faces you again, and you startle as he pinches your cheek. You push him off, as all he does is offer you a wide grin that makes dimples appear on his cheeks.

You’ve never really seen those dimples before, not while he’s smiling. You have to force yourself to look away, and as entrancing as they are, you manage to have your gaze drop to a random spot on the floor. “Alright then, I’ll grab my stuff. You can charge your phone while I’m in the shower.”

“All good, I’m at 65%,” he says. “I just checked online, and the power outage will likely last through the night so… figured I didn’t have anything better to do.”

You purse your lips. “Oh.”

There’s an awkward silence before he motions to the bathroom. “Aren’t you going?”

Your cheeks burn, and you nod once before heading towards your room as he snorts behind you, evidently laughing at you. You ignore him, quickly grabbing a change of clothes and bringing them to the bathroom. Jungkook’s moved to the couch, and to your surprise you see him with a book in hand.

“You read?”

The question is out before you realize, and Jungkook’s head snaps in your direction.

“It’s for a class.”

You nod once. “Right.” You then scrape your throat, glance at the bathroom and then settle your eyes on him again. “I’ll be right back.”

He smiles at you, and it’s the last thing you see before you walk into the bathroom, softly shutting the door behind you. Luckily enough, it’s still light enough outside for you to be able to shower without being in the dark, and as Jungkook advertised, there’s still hot water.

You take the fastest shower of your life, not wanting to risk running out of hot water, and then you put your dirty pants in the sink, soaking them in cold water. You put your clean clothes on – nothing impressive, just a pair of black sweatpants with a white t-shirt. You take one look at yourself in the mirror – you look like you’ve gone through hell, but at least you’re refreshed. 

With a steadying breath, you walk out of the bathroom, and your eyes immediately find Jungkook where he’s still sitting on the couch, looking like he hasn’t moved an inch. He glances at you before resuming his attention on his book. You feel awkward, yet you still walk in his direction because, frankly, what else is there for you to do when there’s no power?

“What’s the book about?” you enquire.

He raises it for you to see as you sit next to him. He moves too fast, and all you can see is something about trickle-down economy before the book is back in his lap.

“Looks boring.”

He laughs. “It is. Plus, trickle-down economics is bullshit.”

You nod wisely, even though your knowledge in the economy and business field is little to zero. All you know is that trickle-down economics is what rich people use to defend their actions, which immediately makes it so you don’t trust it one bit.

Eat the rich and all that.

“Right,” you let out.

Jungkook throws you a glance. “Feeling better?”

You don’t know how to answer. Because, yes, you feel somehow better now that you are clean and warmed from the shower, but you’re still very aware that the power is out, you’ve likely failed a midterm, and your date was cancelled.

“Sort of,” you answer, shrugging your shoulders. “Today was just a shitshow.” 

He says nothing, but his big eyes on you entice you to open up to him, making you feel more at ease than you’ve ever been around him.

Maybe because you just need someone to vent to after all.

“Like… I woke up late this morning,” you tell him. “Arrived so late to my midterm that I couldn’t finish. Then realized that I forgot my wallet here and couldn’t eat lunch. Got stood up for a date tonight, and now no power here? This day has been the worst.”

You sit back on the couch after you’ve finished your tirade, and Jungkook just looks at you curiously. You don’t register you’ve called hanging out with Hoseok a date until Jungkook says, “You had a Valentine’s Day date?”

You shut your eyes, pinch the bridge of your nose and exhale loudly. “Sort of. Not really a date.”

“How can it not really be a date?”

You entirely miss the teasing in his voice, mostly because you’re appalled at yourself for the slipping. “It’s just… my friend with benefits, so not a date.”

“Damn, peach,” he says, and he bursts out laughing. You crack an eye open, your heart feeling like it’s been stabbed as Jungkook grins at you. “Didn’t think you were one to have a friend with benefits.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs, and his gaze slides away from you as his brows furrow slightly. “You’re Tae’s sister, and the way he talks about you I just… I don’t know.”

Annoyance creeps into you as you cock an eyebrow. “You shouldn’t listen to what Taehyung says about me. He still thinks I’m twelve.”

Jungkook snorts, and to your surprise, it makes you smile, right as he glances at you. 

“Are you not?”

“Yah!” You punch him in the shoulder, and he laughs as he massages the spot. “I’ll have you know I’m an adult.”

His features turn somber, and he plays with his piercing for a time before he answers. “I’m starting to realize it, trust me.”

In the somberness of his eyes, a spark ignites, and you feel as if electricity is running on every inch of your body. You wish it would run into the building instead, bringing the power back on but unfortunately, you’re the only victim, and all you can do is hold his gaze.

The moment stretches until you grow uncomfortable, and your eyes slide to the Switch under the TV, as if it’ll find solace there.

“Anyway,” you say, scraping your throat. “Apparently there’s still power at the dorms so I think I’ll head over there.”

“You’ll abandon me?” he says, faking offence. “Right when I offered to take care of your pants? The nerves on you.”

You roll your eyes as the awkwardness fades to be replaced by the annoyance Jungkook usually brings out of you. “You’re a big boy, you don’t need me.”

“You sure you want to walk all the way there though? What if you fall again?”

You push him as he smiles wickedly, satisfied that he’s annoyed you. “I hate you.”

“You know what you hate even more than me?”

Your brow creases in confusion. “What?”

He shrugs his shoulders, a smirk growing on his lips. “You’ll have to stay for me to answer.”

You sigh deeply, folding your arms on your chest. You gauge him, watch as his smirk only widens while you ponder staying here. And you don’t even know why you’re considering it in the first place. There’s just something about being able to talk to Jungkook like this, about being comfortable next to him that makes you want to stay.

“Name a single reason why I should stay,” you finally say.

His smirk turns victorious. “I’ll cook something for you.”

“The power is out,” you feel the need to remind him. 

He throws you a no-bullshit look. “Really, peach, you need to find a bit of creativity in your life.”

“What?”

“The stove doesn’t run on electricity, it runs on gas.”

You look up at the ceiling. “How was I supposed to know that, I barely ever cook.”

“I cook!” he bursts, waving the book around. You didn’t realize he was still holding it, and you laugh as the pages flutter around.  “And you usually steal my food, so just let me make something for you tonight.”

You purse your lips, meeting his gaze as he looks at you, faking annoyance. “What do you want to cook?”

“I have chicken that I need to cook tonight if I don’t want it to go bad,” he says. “I can make noodles with it.”

It takes you all but two seconds before you realize that there’s no way you’re going to leave when Jungkook is suggesting to cook for you. “Alright.”

“Yeah?” You nod, and Jungkook beams. ��You won’t regret it.”

You laugh, slightly shaking your head as he puts the book away and gets up. He offers you his hand, the one with the tattoos on the back of it, and you furrow your brows. “What?”

“Go get changed,” he says, hand still extended between you. “I’ll give you a Valentine’s Day date, but you’re going to have to play the part too.”

Something stops in your chest – your heart, most likely – and you’re hit with the thought that this is a bad idea. That whatever Jungkook means by that is going to be the mistake of the century, yet you still find yourself accepting his extended hand.

He pulls you to your feet, and he doesn’t let go of your hand for a moment, big doe eyes widening slightly as he looks at you.

“You…” you trail off, scraping your throat as you look away from his eyes.

It’s all you can do not to get lost in his gaze. 

“I?” he presses, voice low.

“You should dress up too,” you mumble, cheeks burning. “So I’m not alone.”

He lets go of your hand, and your fingers twitch as it falls to your side. When his index finds your chin, you think your blood stops in your veins. He makes you tilt your head back, enough so that you’re forced to meet his gaze.

“I will.” His voice is grave, and you don’t miss the way his eyes dart to your lips once as they part. “I’m going to make this worth it. You deserve it after such a shit day, don’t you?”

You gulp. “Yeah?”

He pats your cheek. “Yeah, you do.”

And then he’s walking away. You’re left standing there, heart racing in your chest, feeling so warm you think you’re about to catch fire. You watch him disappear into his room, and it’s only when he’s out of sight that you manage to move, making your way to your own room.

You shut the door behind you, resting against it as you take deep breaths to calm down. You’re not sure if it’s doing you any good, because this is Jungkook. Jungkook, with his tattoo sleeve and piercings, your older brother’s best friend. Your roommate, the man that’s been playing with you for weeks, for months, like you’re just some playdough. You think he’s doing it on purpose. He has to – he’s trying to make your life miserable because you’re Taehyung’s sister. You don’t see what else it could be. Because why the fuck would Jungkook act like this with you?

You’re not stupid enough to believe it isn’t your fault. Because you were there the night of The Incident, and you reckon things have changed with Jungkook since that night. 

You take a deep, steadying breath before pushing up from the door. No matter what it is that is making Jungkook act like this, you’re still curious to see what he’s preparing for you. Spending time with him like this, with no power and nothing else to do than talk…

Maybe it’s going to help you understand what’s happening in that thick skull of his. So you search for something to wear, something warm since the heating is also down. You settle on brown dress pants that you know make your ass look amazing, and you pair them with a pale beige wool turtleneck. You tuck the shirt in your pants, putting a belt on to make sure it stays in place, and then you take a good look at yourself in your standing mirror. Satisfied with your outfit, you make to move out of your room, but you stop with your hand halfway to the knob.

You can hear Jungkook humming in his room, a soft melody that’s making you think he’s taking a long time in there. Is he actually dressing up? It makes something terribly warm and soft settle in your chest, and you turn back around, grab your makeup pouch and head to your desk.

If this is a date, or whatever it is that Jungkook considers dates to be, you want to look good for it. So you put a little bit of makeup on, trusting your instinct to make it look great even though the light of your small mirror doesn’t turn on since there’s still no power. You hear Jungkook get out of his room before you’re done, and you hope he doesn’t decide to come here.

You doubt he would, but you somehow feel awkward as you’re getting ready. Because he’s your older brother’s best friend, because he’s a college fuckboy, because he’s been making you feel too many things lately – most of them you repress as if your life depends on it. And you think, your life does depend on it. Because nothing can happen between you and Jungkook; you wouldn’t do that to Taehyung. And mostly, you wouldn’t do that to Jungkook, because you know Taehyung would hate him if something did happen.

You sigh. It comes out shakily, a clear indication that you’re growing anxious, and you almost want to laugh at yourself. You want to tell yourself to get a grip, to just play along for things are bound to go back to normality when the power comes back. 

You only stop feeling anxious when Taehyung texts you, your phone lighting up where you’ve put it down on your desk.

[5:02 pm] bröther👽: jk texted me the same thing! Glad u won’t be alone tonight [5:02 pm] You: he’s gonna cook dinner [5:03 pm] bröther👽: lmao, jk doesn’t cook for girls, feel lucky

With that you realize that, indeed, you should feel lucky. Because Jungkook can be a friend, if not anything else. It’s reassuring, and you finish getting ready feeling lighter than you’ve felt all day, as if the hell that today was is all forgotten. 

You spray some perfume on the inside of your wrists, dabbing it on your neck before you finally declare yourself ready to head out of your room. You hope Jungkook won’t make fun of you – he’d be the kind of guy to make fun of you for this, you just know it – and you make your way to the kitchen, where you can hear him busying himself.

He’s brought his portable speaker out of his room. The one that also has a projector in it, and it shines northern lights on the walls and on the ceiling of the kitchen, giving it a cozy atmosphere. No music is playing as of right now, yet Jungkook is still humming, voice low yet melodious.

You rarely hear him sing, but anytime you do, you feel like your ears are blessed by an angel.

He reappears from where he was hidden in the fridge, and his mouth falls open as he catches sight of you. 

He’s wearing a white dress shirt. You think it’s made of linen – it doesn’t look particularly fancy. Yet the way he’s rolled it on his forearms is weirdly attractive, even though he’s only wearing grey sweatpants with it. It’s a look, a look you think only he can pull off. He’s taken the time to style his hair back, and he’s put on earrings you’ve only seen him wear a couple of times during parties.

He eyes you up and down, his doe eyes crinkling in appreciation. “You look good, peach.”

The compliment makes you blush, and you offer him a small smile. He echoes it right away, and he holds up a bottle of rosé that you bought two months ago and forgot all about since then.

“Wine?” you let out as you stop in front of him. You feel awkward because, obviously, it’s wine, but you still hold his gaze as he nods.

“It’s yours but…” He shrugs, glancing at the label. “I figured it’d work well with the chicken.”

You nod once. “Sure, we can drink it.”

It makes him happy. You can see it in the way he beams, and then he puts it down on the counter with the rest of the ingredients. When he moves, you catch a whiff of his cologne, and you feel your cheeks burn again. You glance outside – the rain has stopped, but grey clouds are still looming in the sky as the world slowly darkens. You wonder if they’ll go away some time tonight – without the light pollution, you reckon you’d be able to stargaze.

You end up helping Jungkook with the cooking, chopping some vegetables as he takes care of the meat. You’re not particularly hungry, so you take your time, talking about everything and nothing. Jungkook is good at this, you realize. He’s good at changing your mind, at making sure it doesn’t wander back to your midterm and to the rest of your shitty day. He makes you laugh, cracking stupid jokes whenever you do something, smirking at you when you roll your eyes.

Being with him like this also makes you understand why he’s Taehyung’s friend. He feels more natural this way, less fuckboy-ish, and it’s a side of him you’ve never really seen before.

You sit at the kitchen table, sharing a glass of the rosé wine while the food simmers on the stove. Jungkook’s put on an indie music playlist before you started cooking – something you teased him about. Who knew Jeon Jungkook likes indie music?

“How was Tae before college?” Jungkook asks all of a sudden when there’s a lull in the conversation. “He barely talks about high school.”

You know the exact reason why, and her name is Youna. Taehyung’s ex, his high school sweetheart. The one that moved to the other side of the country without ever once looking back.

“He was an idiot,” you answer, and Jungkook laughs. “No, seriously. He dated the same girl all through high school. Was convinced he was going to marry her.”

“That sounds on brand with Tae,” Jungkook says, nodding his head wisely. “He said that about every girl he’s dated in college, but most of them don’t last more than a few weeks.”

You wince. “Remember Hailey from last semester?”

She lasted about three weeks, but she spent most of those at the apartment. It was the only three weeks where Jungkook and you had talked more than just small talk – or his usual teasing. Mostly because you kept complaining about her, and Jungkook kept saying you were cute when you were mad.

Come to think of it, it still was teasing.

“Fuck, her voice,” Jungkook lets out, shaking his head. “I’m sure she was faking having such a high voice. I don’t know how Taehyung could deal with that.”

It’s your turn to laugh, and Jungkook smiles as he watches you. “I swear to God, I was about to kick Tae out of the apartment,” you say. “I’m glad she didn’t last.”

“Agreed.”

There’s another silence as the song switches on Jungkook’s speaker. You take a sip of wine, appreciating the taste, and Jungkook gets up to check the food on the stove. He comes back a moment later, sitting back next to you.

You think he’s closer. He feels closer, and the smell of his cologne fills your nose again. 

“You put on some cologne,” you state, and it startles you somehow. You weren’t expecting to say that and, clearly, Jungkook wasn’t expecting it either.

“Yeah.” He looks down at himself as if the cologne is visible on him. “Do you like it?”

You gulp. “Yeah, you smell good.”

He smirks, nodding his head. “You too, peach. I love the vanilla scent.”

You don’t know what to do with the compliment. You mutter a thank you before taking a large sip of wine, and Jungkook chuckles before following your lead.

“Do you think Tae and that girl in France will last?” you ask. “He still hasn’t told me who she is.”

Indeed, he’s remained evasive whenever you’ve asked. You stalked the people that are with him on the semester abroad, and you think two of the girls could be your brother’s type, but it’s hard to tell.

“Oh,” Jungkook lets out. He grabs his phone, resting his forearms on the table as he opens it. He goes on Instagram, and as it loads, he glances at you. “He’s told me. Let me show you.”

“What!” you exclaim. “How come he told you and not me?”

Jungkook chuckles. “No idea. But here.”

He shows you the girl’s profile, and you take his phone as you scroll through the pictures. To your surprise, she’s not one of the two girls you stalked. She looks shy, barely showing her face in her pictures, most of them being of nature anyway. Come to think of it, you do get a romantic vibe from her feed, and you reckon that would work well with Taehyung. 

You’re about to give Jungkook his phone back when it vibrates in your hand, a notification appearing at the top. 

[6:05 pm] Shelly 💦🍒: are u gonna be here soon?

It’s not your fault that you read it, and your gaze widens as you look up from the device. Jungkook hasn’t noticed, and he smiles at you, seemingly expectant.

“So?” he asks.

“You had a date tonight?”

His mouth falls open. He looks guilty, eyes widening and taking a sheepish expression. He remains silent, and you can almost see the cogs turning in his head as he thinks of what to answer.

You don’t know how to feel. You feel bad for the girl – Shelly – who’s clearly waiting for Jungkook somewhere. You feel bad that he chose to stay with you because you were upset, but mostly you feel strange that he’s doing all of this for you when there’s someone waiting for him. 

The emojis next to her name are enough of an explanation of what she is to Jungkook. Still, you feel increasingly uncomfortable, even more so as he says nothing.

“What the fuck, JK?”

“She’s no one,” he says when you get up. “Trust me, I’ve only hung out with her a couple of times.”

You laugh, and it’s somehow void of joy. “Why would I care?”

He looks at the glasses of wine, and then at the food on the stove. “I don’t know… because we’re…” He motions between you, and then at said glasses of wine and food. “I just forgot to tell her I wasn’t going to come over.”

It’s enough of a reminder that Jungkook, for all his current kindness, is a renowned college fuckboy. It reminds you of all the times you’ve heard him fuck – was Shelly one of the girls? You feel disgusted, and you walk out of the kitchen, not wanting to look at Jungkook right now.

“Peach,” he says as he follows you out in the darkness of the living room.

The living room is also strangely cold, and you shiver as you turn towards him. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “But why are you even reacting like this?”

You scoff. “I don’t know, Jungkook, you tell me.”

You can’t see his expression. But when he takes a step closer to you, you feel the heat of his body radiating in the space between you.

“Are you jealous?” he asks, and you hear the smirk in his voice.

“No,” you say, and you scoff again. “I’m weirded out.”

“Because I was going to fuck someone tonight?” It’s his turn to scoff when you remain silent. “Weren’t you going to fuck that dude? Hoseok?”

You don’t know how he remembers Hoseok’s name, but he’s got a point. You wet your lips, tongue poking your cheek next. “Right.”

“Come on, peach, just come back in the kitchen,” he says. He grabs your hand, and your breath gets caught in your throat as he escorts you back to the chair where you were sitting. You begrudgingly follow, and when you’re seated he towers over you.

You tilt your head back. “What?”

He flicks your nose, and you dodge a second too late. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“Fuck off,” you grumble. “I wasn’t jealous I was just weirded out.”

He smiles at you wickedly. “Of course, peach. Of course.”

He sounds so cocky you want to hate him, but all you can do is glare at the table. He pushes your wine glass towards you as he sits back next to you and you wordlessly take it to chug it.

“Now that that’s done,” he says once you’ve put it back on the table, “what do you think of Tae’s girl?”

You had all but forgotten why you were holding Jungkook’s phone in the first place. You recall her Instagram to the forefront of your mind, pursing your lips. 

“She looks chill,” you answer.

Jungkook pouts. “Just that?”

You shrug. “What else am I supposed to say?”

“Well,” Jungkook starts. “For one I can’t believe she’s Tae’s type. She looks nothing like the girls he dated here. Like just think about Hailey?”

You just nod, because in truth you fully agree with him. 

“Her Instagram is a vibe though,” Jungkook continues. “Tae is big on vibes so… maybe it works?”

You nod once more, tilting your head to the side as you really think about it. Because frankly you’d like for Taehyung to find someone that lasts. As much as you know he’s been having fun in college, you know his happiness usually lies in a healthy relationship like the one he had with his ex. 

“Hopefully it does,” you finally say. “Tae deserves it.”

Jungkook looks at you, somber expression on his features as he plays with his piercing. It makes your heart cease in your chest, and you busy yourself with refilling the wine glasses as he remains silent.

“He does,” Jungkook eventually replies. “He actually really does.”

He sounds so serious you throw him a questioning glance. “Yeah?”

He blinks once, as if stepping out of a daze before flashing his infuriating smirk at you again. “Definitely.”

There’s an awkward silence, and you watch as he takes a sip of wine before getting up to check on the food. He deems it ready, and makes two bowls, one for you and one for him. He sets yours in front of you, a proud smile on his lips.

“Smells good,” you compliment him as he sits.

He winks at you. “Wait till you taste.”

You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes, and you take a tentative bite, holding his gaze as he expectantly waits.

“Shit,” you let out, and you fan your mouth with your hand. “Why is it so spicy?”

“Don’t tell me you’re like your brother and can’t stand spicy food,” he complains as you take a long sip of wine.

You put your wine glass back down, wincing as it clinks against the bowl. It fortunately doesn’t break, and you push it away from the dish as you chuckle. “What’s wrong with not liking spicy food?”

He pouts. “You guys are so weak.”

You fake-glare at him. “This shit is so spicy it would wake the dead.”

He snorts, stifling his laugh until you meet his gaze and you burst out laughing at the same time. You think it’s the first time you’ve ever heard him guffaw like this. His laugh is contagious, pretty, and you’re convinced it can have healing effects.

You’re convinced it has healing effects. Indeed, in that instant, you finally really forget about the day, the heaviness it left behind dwindling into nothingness. It’s replaced with happiness, and chatter with Jungkook becomes easier, more natural. 

You realize he smiles a lot. You make him laugh a lot too, and whenever he does you feel your heart flutter in your chest. You don’t like the feeling, know it’s a mistake, but with the wine, all you can do is try to make him laugh some more, and smile whenever he does.

You’re on your first beer after finishing the wine – and the overly spicy food, which Jungkook congratulated you profusely for finishing. You’ve talked about every subject that’s come to your mind so far, none feeling taboo with Jungkook. He eventually tells you about Shelly – she is indeed one of the girls you’ve heard him sleep with – and you laugh as he admits he’s really happy he didn’t have to see her tonight.

You can’t help but snort. “Jeon Jungkook, saying no to sex? I’ve heard everything.”

“Bruh.” He laughs, shaking his head. “Is your opinion of me so low you think sex is the most important thing to me?”

His eyes are gleaming with mischief in the light of his speaker, which will apparently run out of battery soon. You both don’t care, and you’ve lit a candle in case it does die. Its sweet fragrance has been chasing the smell of the food away, and it’s been giving the kitchen a homey vibe, even as it’s growing chilly.

“Is it not?” you tease.

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head at you. “Not at all.”

You throw him a no-bullshit look that makes him frown cutely. 

“How long can you go without having sex?” you ask him, holding in a laugh.

He narrows his doe eyes at you. “At least a few weeks.”

“A few weeks? That’s nothing!”

“Yah,” he bursts, and he laughs as you snort. “Peach, just because I have casual sex doesn’t mean I can’t stop if I want to.”

“Then stop,” you challenge him.

He cocks an eyebrow. “Give me one reason why I should.”

“To prove a point?”

His eyes narrow further, but if you’ve understood one thing about Jeon Jungkook, it’s that he doesn’t step down from a challenge. No, as competitive as he is, you’re pretty sure he’ll do it.

“Peach,” he purrs, and it has something warm form in the pit of your stomach. “Is it really about me proving a point, or is it about you being jealous?”

You choke on the sip of beer you were taking, which only makes him laugh. You think it’s a little condescending, but you know he doesn’t mean it in a bad way. You still punch him in the shoulder for it, unable to resist.

“Why would I be jealous?” you ask. “Hobi fucks me good.”

Jungkook shuts his eyes and his nose scrunches. He shakes his head once before looking at you again. “I didn’t want to know that.”

You smile as if you’ve never done anything wrong in your whole life. “Your loss.”

He laughs at that, gaze dropping to the table. Silence grows between you, but it’s comfortable, not like what silence with Hoseok feels like. With Hoseok you feel the need to speak whenever there’s a lull in the conversation but, right now, you’re content with just sitting back in your chair, sipping on your beer.

To your surprise, Jungkook starts singing over the song, gaze lost in his own glass of beer. His voice settles deep inside of you, resonating in your soul, and you just look at him, awe clouding your mind.

You’re not sure he’s realized he’s singing. Because when he meets your gaze, he lets out a small laugh. “Why are you looking at me like this?”

“You have a beautiful voice,” you whisper.

It’s hard to tell in the dim light, but you’re pretty sure his cheeks have turned pink. “Nah.”

“No, I’m serious,” you insist. “I often hear you hum and… you sing really well.”

His nose scrunches up again. “Stop it.”

“Just take the compliment,” you say, laughing as he plays with his piercing.

You reckon it might be the first time in your life you’ve ever seen Jeon Jungkook shy. Because he clearly is, and he looks away from you, running his hand through his hair. It undoes the hairstyle, and a strand falls on his forehead.

You’ve never felt such a visceral need to brush your hand through someone’s hair before. You manage to resist, busying yourself with holding your beer instead.

“M’kay,” he lets out. “Thanks, peach.”

His voice is soft. Softer than the fur of a puppy, and it makes the warm thing in you grow. You gulp, wetting your lips. You don’t miss the way his eyes glance at your mouth, and he looks conflicted for half a second before he smirks again.

“We should have hung out like this before,” he declares.

“Yeah?” is all you can answer.

You feel yourself leaning in. You haven’t even realized how close you’re sitting to him until you’re leaning in. He does too. He leans forward, tilting his head to the side slightly. He looks surprised, even more so when one of your hands finds the back of his neck, pulling him closer until you’ve erased the distance between you.

You both didn’t close your eyes. And you both look startled from your lips touching, so much so that you let go of him, straightening away from him. He, on the other hand, hasn’t moved, and his gaze goes fully serious before he grabs your arm gently, pulling you closer to him again.

This time, when your mouths meet, you shut your eyes, sighing softly as he kisses you. His piercings press into your lower lip, and as his mouth moves against you, you feel the warm thing inside of you grow so big it bursts. It bursts the same way fireworks do – in an explosion of colours that leaves you waiting for more.

He doesn’t disappoint. He tilts his head to the side, deepening the kiss. His hand on your arm moves up until it rests on your shoulder before he decides better and moves it to the side of your neck. His thumb swipes at your jaw, gently, and it’s his turn to sigh in the kiss.

When his tongue darts out of his mouth, you meet it with your own. For a reason unknown, you expect it to make you both grow horny, but the kiss remains soft, slow like you have all of eternity stretched out in front of you.

Even though it’s languid, even though it’s soft, you grow dizzy, head spinning as you taste the beer in Jungkook’s mouth. As his hand moves to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. You rest one hand on his chest, right above his heart, and you feel the organ racing under your fingers. It makes you grab a handful of fabric as if that will anchor you in the present.

As if that will make you forget that you’re kissing your brother’s best friend. 

It does, though you reckon it might be the way Jungkook shifts in his chair, moving so that you can straddle him. And he pulls you in, softly, tugging on your arm until you let go of the shirt and drape it over his shoulder. You sit on him, legs on each side of him, your toes barely even touching the floor. Still, your mouths move in unison, his lips petal soft against yours. 

Your other arm circles his neck too, until you’re holding him against you. His large hands land on your waist, gently, and his thumbs stroke you, barely even grazing you over the thick fabric of your wool turtleneck.

You don’t know how long you kiss. It just seems like you both don’t want to stop, like you both know the moment you stop will be a wake-up call, one you’d rather avoid while you get stuck in this bubble of eternity with him. The fireworks keep on shining bright, warm summer sun blooming in your heart as if this, this was always meant to be.

Oxygen is futile when you’re kissing Jeon Jungkook. Not needed, as if he breathes air into your lungs. You think he does, and you sigh once more as your hands get lost in the hair on the back of his head.

The next swipe of his tongue is sharper, carries more intent, and you both startle, finally parting from each other. Though you remain a hairsbreadth away, longing for his lips the moment your mouths aren’t connected anymore.

Immobile, you breathe in shakily, and you hear him do it too. He’s still stroking you, gently, and he wraps his arms around your waist to pull you in. You rest your head on his shoulder, breathing in the clean laundry smell of his shirt, along with the scent of his cologne as you turn your face towards his neck.

The moment stretches some more, as you listen to the music. His grip around you loosens as you press a soft kiss on the mole you’ve discovered on his neck. He pushes you back, gently, until your back is against the table. Your gazes meet then, and you wonder if his eyes always shine like this. Do they always hold the light of the universe in them, or did you set fire to his gaze?

He gulps and his mouth falls open. His pupils fill with something you can’t quite put your finger on, yet it has clouds taking over the summer sun in your heart until the beating organ goes cold.

“Now you’ve had a fake Valentine’s Day kiss,” he murmurs, and the fireworks burst into a void that tastes like ash as you interpret his gaze.

He’s regretting this. It takes over all of his features, turning his big doe eyes into hearths of remorse. It finishes dousing the sun in your heart until the star goes to sleep, and all that’s left is the echoes of what once was.

“Fake?” is all you manage to let out.

He shuts his eyes, eyelids fluttering close softly. He looks like an angel repenting as he rests his forehead against yours, forcing your own eyes shut from the proximity.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he reminds you, reality sinking into his words. 

You nod against him before pulling away. You try to get up, but his hands on your waist hold you in place.

“Let me go,” you whisper. 

He does so, albeit reluctantly, arms falling to his sides in a defeated manner. You try to not let yourself think about it too much, try to forget what just happened as you stand up, moving away from him.

Without his body heat you shiver, and you hate yourself for the next words you say.

“We should share a room tonight. It’s going to be cold.”

His eyes shoot open as he turns his head towards you, surprise replacing the reality. As if he thought he ruined everything, and you think maybe he did. Maybe he did ruin everything, but you don’t even want to be thinking about it right now. You just want to go to sleep, to let the night pass.

Maybe the insanity will go with it.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “You know, Taehyung doesn’t have to know everything.”

Jungkook slowly gets up, facing you. You gulp as he pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, hand going to your chin again. He leans in, forcing you to tilt your head back until his lips find yours again.

It lasts a fraction of a second, yet it leaves you scrambling for breath as he takes a step back. He nods as you meet his gaze, an eyebrow cocked in question.

“We can sleep in your room,” he says. “It’s smaller, it’s going to be easier to keep it warm.”

Right as he finishes his sentence the battery of his speaker dies, and silence surrounds you as the northern lights go to sleep. The light flickers in time with the flame of the candle, and you glance at it.

“Sounds good,” you agree, and you wet your lips as you look at him again. His big doe eyes still shine even with just the candlelight, and you wish the world was different. Wish that he wasn’t Tae’s friend, that you could just grab him and have him kiss you stupid again. But he’s right. You shouldn’t be doing this.

Sharing a bed is only practical. Only because it’s cold, and you have to survive the night. A voice at the very back of your mind tells you that you could head over to the dorms, but you don’t want to.

You want to remain here, in this instant outside of the linear timeline of your life.

“Maybe you should get your bed covers?” you suggest. “So we don’t get cold.”

He smiles, so far from his usual smirk and grin that you feel a pang in your chest. “Yeah. Yes, that’s a good idea.”

All of five minutes later, he meets you in your room. You’ve changed into your previous outfit, and he’s swiped his dress shirt for an oversized white Nike t-shirt. He’s holding his bed cover to his chest, just a white bundle that he offers you as if he’s trying to make peace with you. You motion to your bed, and he nods before walking over to it.

You shut the door behind him, turning to look at him as he debates for a few seconds where to sleep in your bed. He starts by putting his bed cover over yours and then chooses to sit at the foot of the bed, on the side that’s against the wall.

He then turns to meet your gaze, his profile cast in the flickering light of the candle from the kitchen and the few others you’ve lit while waiting for him.

“I think this is the first time I’ve been in this room since Jimin moved out,” he tells you, and his lips stretch into that same soft smile.

You glance around, pursing your lips. “Hope it doesn’t disappoint.”

“It doesn’t,” he reassures you as he imitates your action, observing your room. “It feels like you.”

Not knowing what’s that supposed to mean, you cock an eyebrow. “Does it?”

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t explain further, and you shrug it off as you move closer to your bed to sit on the edge. The moment you’re in his vicinity your heart picks up in your chest. It’s hard to believe that Jeon Jungkook is in your bed right now, and you have to remind yourself that it’s purely because it currently is freezing in your apartment. 

“Should we…” you trail off, motioning at the bed.

He chuckles, a sweet sound that forces you to gaze at him, eyes widening as your heartbeat picks up even more. “You want me in your bed so bad, do you?”

You short-circuit, flushing fully red as you struggle to find something witty to reply with. Falling short on words, you end up shrugging your shoulders as you move under the covers, hoping he won’t tease you further. 

You highly doubt you’d survive him teasing you more.

To your relief, Jungkook ends up chuckling again, but he remains silent as he slides in next to you, keeping a safe distance between the two of you. You lie on your back, while he turns to face you, and you feel the weight of his gaze on your profile.

It makes you turn to look at him, and he offers you the same kind smile.

“Shouldn’t we blow the candles out?” he asks, and his gaze darts to where you’ve left the candles on your desk and night table. “Just to make sure we don’t burn the building down.”

“You want to go to sleep right away?”

You hate yourself for saying that. Indeed, a smirk grows on his lips and he jumps on the occasion to say, “You want to do something else?”

Something grows hot inside of you, and it’s not that same summer sun he ignited in you earlier. You wet your lips, burning from the inside out as you remind him, “We shouldn’t.”

He chuckles again. “Didn’t you say he doesn’t need to know?”

You meet his gaze, find the mischief behind his big doe eyes and roll yours. “You’re annoying.”

Right on cue you shiver. It takes you by surprise, because you feel your insides burning, yet the temperature in your room is low, winning against the warmth.

“Are you cold?” he asks, no traces of mischief left in his eyes. Only concern can be found in his pupils, and you want to hate him for it.

“A little,” you admit. “The covers are just cold.”

They actually are, as your bodies have yet to warm them. To your surprise, Jungkook sidles closer to you. 

“I can hold you, if you want. I’m always too hot.”

You burn a thousand shades of red as you wet your lips. “You don’t have to.”

“Come on, peach, I won’t let you freeze while I’m right here.”

Yet he doesn’t do anything, waits until you’ve nodded your head to slide even closer, and he loosely wraps his arm around your waist. His warm breath fans the side of your face, and you do your best to ignore it.

“Better?” he asks, voice low as he whispers in your ear.

You shut your eyes as electricity courses through your whole body. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

Your brain zeroes in on the weight of his arm on you, and when his fingers start tracing random figures on your waist, you let out a small yelp.

“That tickles,” you tell him.

He does it again, and you try to push him away. Only, Jungkook is far stronger than you, and all you manage to do is end up with your back against him as he holds you firmly to him.

“Stop,” you beg, a little breathlessly.

“It’s warming you up, is it not?”

You roll your eyes, though you reckon it is. You don’t feel nearly as cold anymore, and you can feel the heat growing in you again. As an attempt to get away from him, you shuffle, and it earns you a breathless chuckle from him.

Just to make sure you didn’t imagine the whole thing, you move your hips again. Something twitches in his sweatpants and your mouth falls open.

“You’re…”

“Consequences of the position,” he’s quick to say. “Don’t worry about it.”

You don’t know how you possibly can not worry about it. It’s all your brain can focus on as you shift again, and this time he hisses.

“Maybe you should not do that.” His voice is low, husky, and it sends shivers all over your body. 

You bite your lips. “Why?”

He pulls you back in, flush against his chest. His lips ghost on the side of your neck, and you think you’ve been struck with lightning. “Because we can’t do anything about it.”

“Right.”

He rests his head on the pillow behind you again, sighing deeply. His hand holds you against him, forcing you to feel every inch of his hard body pressing into you.

Of his hard dick too, where it pushes into your ass.

“Maybe we should go to sleep,” you say, eyes fluttering shut.

He nods. “We should.”

“I need to blow out the candles.”

His arm loosens around you before he fully lets you go. You prop yourself on an elbow, leaning towards the night table. You blow out the candle you’ve left there, and before you can move you feel Jungkook’s palm resting on your hip.

“Shit, peach,” he whispers.

You look behind yourself. Your position is explicit, as if you’re angling yourself to fuck yourself on him better. It makes you move your hips, and you see the moment something snaps inside of him.

“Why don’t you lie down next to me before we blow the rest of the candles out?”

There’s something stern, authoritative in his voice, and you immediately obey him. 

“On your back,” he adds.

You exhale shakily as you turn, not daring to disobey. His hand lands flat on your stomach, and he starts drawing circles around your navel. You inhale sharply as he nudges your cheek with his nose.

“You look stressed.”

“What are you doing?”

You hear the smirk in his voice when he says, “Helping you fall asleep?”

“Jungkook…”

“Peach.”

You fall silent as he keeps tracing circles. He sighs next to you, almost longingly and he rests his forehead against your temple. His lips are so close you think you feel their softness on your cheek.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he whispers. His fingers still on you, under your navel. Some inch or so over the band of your sweatpants and he pushes your shirt up before resuming his actions directly on your skin.

“We really shouldn’t…” you trail off.

“Are you going to be able to sleep?” he asks.

It’s rhetorical – he knows just as well as you that you won’t. “No.”

“It could help you sleep.”

You don’t want to know what the ‘it’ refers to. “Yeah?”

He wets his lips, or maybe he plays with his piercing. But from the proximity, you feel his tongue and you think you’re going to die right then and there.

“Doesn’t it help you sleep when you touch yourself?”

You’re soaking your panties. You’re burning up, caught on fire by every strike of lightning that Jungkook’s words ignite in you.

“Does it help you?” you counter-back, remembering when you heard him watching porn two weeks ago.

“It does. Always sleep soundly after.”

You slowly nod, gulping as his lips close on your jaw, and he sucks gently. 

He’s danger in human form. And he knows what he’s doing, he knows how to weave words to cause your undoing. You think he’s already started weeks ago, the night of the Incident. 

Taehyung is miles away from your thoughts when you say, “You want to touch me?”

He smirks against you, licks at the spot he just sucked on. “Why don’t you show me how you touch yourself?”

He moves his hand away from your stomach, and you moan softly when he parts your thighs open, resting his palm on the one closest to him as he presses it against his hard dick.

“Shit, Jungkook.”

“I know.”

You hate him. You hate him so much you slide your hand between your legs, pressing a circle on your clit.

“Good girl.”

You moan again, yet you stop your ministrations on yourself. “I want to watch you touch yourself too.”

He grunts, grinds his dick in the side of your thigh once more. “You want to see me come?”

“Want you to finger me with your cum.”

You’ve gone insane. You think there’s an asylum out there for you, yet Jungkook only chuckles manly against your jaw. “Peach, I won’t touch you tonight.” You whine, and he sucks on your jaw again. “You can do it yourself.”

He’s mad. So are you, and you untie the knot of your sweatpants so you can slide your hand in. You moan softly as you find your clit, and you dip two fingers inside of yourself before moving back to the bundle of nerves.

“Jerk yourself off,” you tell him. You try to sound commanding, dominant, but your voice is whiny. It earns you a smirk from him as he turns on his back. He takes off his pants and underwear, clearly not as shy as you. You can’t see his dick when you look down as he’s still under the covers, and you gulp as you imagine it.

Feeling bold, you push the covers off, needing to see him. And the sight doesn’t disappoint. His dick is large. Not excessively long, but the girth makes you understand why he’s got girls screaming whenever he fucks them. His tip is glistening with precum, and he runs his thumb on the slit before spreading the precum on his shaft. Large veins run along the length, from base to top, and you’re struck thinking he’s got the prettiest cock you’ve seen in your life.

“Like what you see?” he teases as he strokes his dick once, slowly but with a firm grip.

“Do you want to see me too?”

You really are bold. Far bolder than you’ve ever been with anyone before. Maybe because all of tonight Jungkook has put you at ease, and you think there’s nothing embarrassing about finally living out your fantasy. Especially not when he’s so pliable to it, willing to follow you into the land of insanity.

Scratch that – he’s the one leading to madness.

“It’s only fair if I see you too, no?” he teases with a smirk on his lips as he looks at you with his dark, intense gaze.

“Yeah.”

It’s all you say before you shimmy out of your pants. You don’t miss the way his eyes go to your hip, where you have a large dragon tattoo. He curses under his breath. “Didn’t know you were tatted.”

“Got it last semester,” you answer with a shaky voice.

He smirks up at you. “Hot.”

You gulp, unable to hold his gaze for longer than a few seconds. Shier than him, you keep the panties on. To your surprise, he sits up, runs his hand on the inside of your thigh before he lies down on the other side so he has a view of between your legs. His feet are next to your head, and you angle yourself away from them so that they aren’t in your face anymore.

“Touch yourself, peach.”

You nod, and you draw circles on your clit through the fabric of your underwear. It’s a plain black thong, yet you feel immensely sexy when Jungkook’s doe eyes narrow dangerously as he watches you touching yourself, stroking his dick lazily.

You watch how he touches himself, heart beating out of your chest. You’re on fire, a wildfire raging through you, and you moan softly as you press harder into you.

“Why don’t you touch yourself under your panties, mmh?” he asks, gaze sliding up to meet yours before he goes back between your legs. “Won’t it feel better?”

You can’t resist him. You push your panties to the side, holding them with one hand as you go back to your clit. Your thighs instinctively want to close together, but he holds them open.

“Put your fingers in.”

You do. You push two digits in, arching them as you rub at the sweet spot inside of you. He watches, licking his lips as he increases the pace on his dick. You moan right as he grunts, the sound making shivers course up and down your spine.

“Why don’t you use your vibrator instead?”

You entirely stop moving, digits deep inside of you. “Huh?”

“I’ve heard you use a vibrator,” he explains. “I want to see you bury it in your tight little pussy.”

Your walls clench around your fingers at his crude words, and it doesn’t take any more for you to roll towards your night table so you can grab said vibrator. When you’re settled back in your previous position, you click it on, and the soft buzzing fills your room.

“Wait,” Jungkook says, stopping you before you’ve pushed your panties aside again. “Take this off.”

He pinches the fabric on your hip, over the tattoo, and all you can do is nod once before you do. He licks his lips, looking at you appreciatively through half-lidded eyes. He looks between your legs, where you just know he can see your juices glistening. Before he says anything else, you put the vibrator on your clit, legs twitching as harsh pleasure courses through you.

To your surprise, he moans, a low sound that has your pussy clench hard. Of course he sees, and he’s quick to say, “Put it in, peach.”

You obey, and you let out a breathy sound as you immediately rub your clit with your other hand. The next few minutes are a world of bliss, of pleasure and of Jungkook’s praises and grunts, entwined with your moans. You think your room is burning hot, or maybe it’s just his eyes on you. His balls are tight as he jerks off harder, faster, eyes never once moving away from the spot between your legs, where your vibrator makes squelching sounds as you push it in and out of you.

“You’re doing so well,” Jungkook tells you after you’ve moaned loudly. 

You’re nearing your high, but for some reason, you haven’t been able to hit it yet. His words bring you closer, yet it remains just barely out of touch.

“So fucking well,” he adds, breathlessly, and you notice he’s gripping his dick harder, moving so fast you barely can see his hand, except when it slows on his head with a flick of his wrist. He moans, grunts loudly. “You’re so hot, I’m going to come.”

“Fuck,” you curse as you watch him push his shirt up, and you catch sight of his defined muscles. They contract as he jerks himself off, and you think you’re drooling.

Maybe because you’re so close to hitting an orgasm that you can’t do anything other than drool.

He glances at your face once. You meet his gaze, blood boiling as you see his eyebrows almost touching over his eyes, his mouth slightly agape as he breathes loudly. His eyelids flutter close as his eyebrows bunch up over his eyes even more, and then he moans out something that sounds like your name.

Not ‘peach’. Your full name. It makes your eyes water as you observe him, as you watch how he looks in pain. And then he curses, and your eyes fall to his dick to see white spurts of cum coming out, covering the tattoos on the back of his hand as he keeps moving, never once faltering.

Your walls clench tightly around your vibrator. You think you’re about to come, but the orgasm doesn’t want to hit, evading you frustratingly. Your motions grow inconsistent, the push and the pull of the vibrator clearly not enough for you.

As Jungkook comes down from his high, he surveys you once more, features blissed out from coming. He watches you struggle as his hand stops at the base of his dick.

“Look at the mess I made because of you,” he says, and you moan. He tilts his head to the side, pulls at his piercing, and then stops you. Puts his hand over yours between your legs as the vibrator rests deep inside of you. “Do you need help?”

You feel some of his cum as it spills from his hand to yours. You keep rubbing on your clit, meeting his gaze as he awaits your answer. “Yes.”

He smirks, and you let him grab your vibrator. He pulls it out of you, watches your juice on it with a hungry look on his features before he hands it to you again. “Put this on your clit.”

You obey, and you sigh in pleasure as he covers two of his fingers with his cum, even picking some up where it fell on his abdomen, decorating his defined abs. You know exactly what he’s going to do before he does, and it makes you curse.

He meets your gaze. “Are you on the pill?”

“IUD.”

He smirks. “Good girl.”

And then he pushes his cum-covered fingers inside of you, arching them to expertly play with your g-spot. You cry out, throwing your head back in pleasure. He fucks you with his digits for a while, and you press your vibrator hard on your clit, as if it’s going to make you come faster.

All it does is make you close your thighs on his wrist. He pulls his fingers out, forces you to spread your legs wide open again, and then circles your entrance with one finger.

“It’s so hot, to watch my cum dripping out of you.”

His digits are in again before you can reply, and he fucks you so well, you crash right into your orgasm, walls spasming around his fingers. You moan, loudly so, and tears prick at your eyes as the waves of your orgasm drown everything in you, making you shake with pleasure.

You ride the high for a long time. Longer than you’ve ever had before, and Jungkook whispers filthy praises to you all through it, until you cringe with oversensitivity and turn off the vibrator. You put it down next to you, and Jungkook pushes in and out twice more before he pulls his fingers out of you.

You remain silent for a while, both of you regaining your breath. Once you stop feeling like you’re seconds away from passing out, you prop yourself on your elbows, watching him. He’s still looking between your legs, and you instinctively close them.

His eyes shoot to your face, and he smirks. “You have no idea how hot you are with my cum dripping out of you, peach.”

You bite your lip, so hard you think you taste blood. “Shit.”

“I know.”

“What did we do?”

He shrugs, sucking on his piercing. “We made sure we’ll sleep well, that’s all.”

You sigh, nodding once before you lie back down on the bed. “Shit,” you repeat.

This time he laughs. It’s a soft sound, something that makes your heart squeeze in your chest. For some reason, it reminds you of the kiss in the kitchen, and butterflies flutter in your stomach.

Even more so as he says, “Let me go get something to clean you up with.”

He pulls his boxers up and then gets up. You miss the way he winces as his feet hit the cold floor, and he’s back with a washcloth before you’ve had time to realize he was gone.

“I’m sorry, there was no hot water left.”

“Oh,” you let out.

He chuckles as he sits next to you. “Do you want to do it or…?”

You nod, and you grab the washcloth out of his hands before cleaning yourself up. It really is cold, and you wince, one eye shutting as you make sure you’re clean before handing it back to him.

“What do you want me to do with this?” he asks, a teasing tone in his voice.

“I don’t know?” 

He laughs, still grabbing it before throwing it in your hamper. “Did you want to pee before going to bed?”

You nod again. “I should.”

“Are you okay to get there?”

You roll your eyes, finally finding some of your usual defiance. “You didn’t fuck me, Jungkook, I can still use my legs.”

“Right,” he lets out before chuckling. “I’ll wait for you here then.”

The trip to the bathroom is the worst you’ve ever experienced, with how cold it is in the rest of the apartment. You’re pleased that your room is warm when you come back, and your heart squeezes in your chest as you see Jungkook lying on his side, looking at you as you enter and shut the door behind you.

He smiles warmly at you. “Better?”

“Why is it so cold?” you complain, which makes him laugh that cute, giggly laugh of his. You immediately look away from him, not wanting him to see the blush on your cheeks.

You blow the rest of the candles out, and in the dark, you make your way to your bed. You slide under the covers, sighing at how warm they are now.

“I’m glad you stayed,” Jungkook says as you settle next to him.

You gulp. “What?”

“You said you were going to go to the dorms,” he reminds you, even though that was an eternity ago. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Oh,” you let out. You’re happy it’s dark because your cheeks burn so much you imagine you’ve turned purple. “I’m glad I stayed too.”

He sighs, and you feel the mattress move as he shifts. “Do you want to cuddle?” he asks. “For warmth.”

You snort, and even though you’re in the dark, you nod. 

“Sure.”

A few seconds later, you’re the small spoon again, and he holds you close to him. He sighs once more, and it ends with a yawn that has you laugh softly.

“Tired?” you tease him.

“Yeah.” He chuckles, nuzzling his face in your hair. “I’m going to sleep like a rock.”

So are you. Even if you shouldn’t, even if you and Jungkook probably committed a big mistake tonight, you still know you’re going to sleep soundly.

Especially as his breathing evens out behind you, interrupted by soft snores here and there. It forms a melody that lulls you to the land of dreams, to a land where you can forget that he’s Taehyung’s best friend, and where you can imagine that he’s yours after all. It’s idyllic, unreal, yet your sleeping form clings to it like it’s a lifeline in a storm.

You just know that reality is bound to hit again soon.

Prev | Chapter 3.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

Oooooof yep. They really did that hehehe. What did you guys think? Did you like it? Let me know!!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[midnight1nk]

EPISODE CONCEPT #3

What if... SMG3 had the courage to confess his feelings for SMG4?

[more below cut]

No context this time, the only thing I will say is that it will be a long one ;)

"Before it may be too late."

SMG3 stared at the ceiling, his fingers fidgeting with the trim of his bed sheets. Those words haven't stopped bothering him for hours. An answer to his question. Not of "would've" or "should've", but "could've".

SMG4. No, Four.

But it'll never be your Four.

It was already a mess when he realized he had feelings for the blue idiot, and now, of all things, he wanted to confess.

If he doesn't reciprocate, will it leave things awkward between us?

He turned to his side and patted Eggdog, who was sleeping peacefully, letting out a defeated sigh. What was he supposed to think? The way they talked, the slightest touch of their hands. It should mean something, right?

What if it's too good to be true?

Three looked over to the shelf that stood on the other side of his room, to a familiar picture frame. Terrence. His first son, first friend. He cared for him so much, and he had to say goodbye. To save the world.

And since when did a villain deserve love?

Months, years have passed. He earned a fresh start, a new home. Eggdog. His role in the Crew, his role as Meme Guardian. And...

Once a villain, always a villain.

...Right. Eggman just had to come in and remind him that Three was a villain. Admittedly, it did feel good to create some havoc. That was until he was tasked to kill Four. And... Four may have believed him when he said he might've thought about the idea itself. Of course, it wasn't true but...

What makes you think he could ever love you after what you did to him?

Well, hey, if the ping-pong game inside his head would let him sleep, that would be great, thank you very much. Not that he could shove it back in his mind again as he thought back to his past. There was indeed one moment; the one he prided himself on when he was a villain and the same one he would rather forget now.

The Youtube Remote.

Oof, it was something alright. It was when he was taken seriously, when he was an actual threat. Perhaps if the Crew failed to take him down, he would've gotten what he wanted. Heh, if only his past self could see him now. Three wouldn't care, he found out what he actually needed. Even so, he's still SMG3.

As he dozes off, one person comes to mind. The one who saw how he grown from his past, who gave him advice earlier today.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Three was going around the near-empty cafe, a small tray in hand. Just as he set a cup down, Four called out to him. Four waves and said his farewell, thanking him for the latte. Three did the same before he accidentally bumped against the table close by. Fortunately, nothing spilled. But Three did earn a giggle from Four. If only Four knew how much his presence lights up Three's world. His shooting star.

Four was long gone but Three's eyes were still glued to where he once was.

Melony: "Are you okay, SMG3?"

Well, it seems he wasn't that good at hiding his crush. Also because Melony was sitting at the table Three just bumped into. Three reassured her that he was fine.

Oh boy, the Crew. They suspected that he had a crush on someone. And ever since "Girls' Night", he might've slipped up a confirmation to the girls, only referring to Four as "That Person". I mean, could you even blame him? The girls were so kind to invite him to one of their exclusive sleepovers, welcoming him with open arms. He felt strangely comfortable sharing this with them. And they didn't judge, promising to not tell a word to the other boys. Melony was there too.

Three looked down at her table to see her Axol plush sitting nearby. Indeed, he felt bad for her after Axol was gone, they weren't able to have the relationship they could've wanted. That loss, he understood it well with what happened to Terrence. But he was impressed by how strong Melony was in handling it all. You could almost say he was proud.

Melony: "It's about 'Them', right?" SMG3: "Well, no. I mean..." [*sighs*] "...yeah." Melony: "Do you love them?" SMG3: "I've literally risked my life for them. Of course, I do. But... I know they don't feel the same." [*picks up an empty plate from the table*] Melony: "How do you know?" SMG3: [*stops, flabbergasted*] "Wha...? It isn't that easy, Mel, I can risk my life all I want for them but I'm not going to risk... this. Besides, I'm sure someone better would come along and treat them well, more than I can offer. I'm content with what we have now, and that's enough for me."

A pause. They were lucky to be the only ones in the cafe but it only made the silence almost unbearable.

SMG3, defeated: "Here's your receipt. Enjoy your drink." [*turns to leave*] Melony: "Whenever Axol and I hung out..." [*SMG3 stops*] "I felt like we understood each other, even though we haven't said anything about it. I cared for him as much as he cared for me. I felt safe, loved. But then... that happened. Maybe we could've dated if we had the time. Sooner if we just talked." [*SMG3 turns to see Melony's bittersweet smile*] "Don't make the same mistake as we did. Tell SMG4 how you feel before it may be too late." SMG3: [*shocked*] "How did...?" Melony: [*giggles*] "It takes one to know one. And if it doesn't work out either way, know that your friends are still here for you."

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

His phone alarm goes off, stirring him awake. Any doubt he had before, it somehow vanished overnight. "Before it may be too late." Melony was right. Who knows what could happen tomorrow. He faced worse things before, they fought off eldritch monsters for memes' sake. He could handle this. Eggdog nuzzled his hand, prompting Three to give his son head scratches.

SMG3: "It's now or never, Eggdog... Could you stay by me, just in case?"

Eggdog lets two encouraging barks, giving Three a bit of comfort.

Just as he does every morning, Three sets up the tables and chairs. The coffee maker set, the clean dishes are ready to go. Finally, Three stands behind the counter, looking at the second hand on the clock.

4...3...2...1...

Right on cue, Four comes in with his laptop.

SMG4: "'Morning SMG3, the usual for me please." [*head over to his favorite table*] SMG3: [*taking out the milk*] "And when are you going to pick something different?" SMG4: "Oh, c'mon, I'm not getting special treatment for being your most loyal customer anymore?" SMG3: "Hmph, and a little bluejay told me you didn't like coffee way before I opened my cafe." SMG4: [*shrugs*] "What can I say? I like the way you make them."

SMG3 shakes his head fondly as he prepares the order, one he memorized by heart: one Cyanide Supreme Latte with ten shots of expresso and five spoons of sugar. All in the usual blue mug with constellation decals. Oh, and not to forget the latte art. It was what Four always ordered and it was the reason why Three started doing latte art in the first place.

That blue meme lord was always curious about what new art he made, and that fact never failed to warm Three's heart. While working on the order, they did their usual talk: memes, streaming, and video editing. A bit of banter here and there.

SMG4 usually works in the Castle but there were moments when Four brought his work here in the cafe. At least, he isn't in his room all day and Three could remind him to take breaks off the screen. Three brought the warm cup to Four's table. Taking his eyes off his work, Four looked at the latte art his purple guardian partner did.

SMG4: "Oh, that's a good-looking rose! A lot better than last time." SMG3: "Hey, that was my first time doing it. Give me a break."

That is true. But also because it was his first attempt to drop a hint to Four that he had romantic feelings for him, he was so nervous that his hand was shaking. It failed miserably either way due to Four being completely oblivious to his "hints". Not this time though.

SMG4: "Anyway, thanks, SMG3." [*takes a sip*] "Mhm, just what I needed, great as always, dude." [*goes back to his work*] SMG3: [*glances at the door, at Eggdog, before inhaling some courage*] "SM... No. Four, I need to talk to you about something." SMG4: [*looks at Three, puzzled*] "Uh, sure. What's up?" SMG3: "I... I don't know if there's going to be another tomorrow, but I need to tell you this. Either that, or I going to start regretting doing this and use the memory wiper on you again." [*and yeah, he muttered that last part*] SMG4: "SMG3?" SMG3: "Four... I'm in love with you."

Silence. ...please, don't go.

SMG3, averting his eyes: "I...I have for some time. I don't know when it all started but I guess it was back in the 'perfect' incident when I realized I couldn't bear the thought of losing you. And... those feelings have grown much more after that. I didn't say anything because I value our friendship, I do. I was willing to do whatever it takes to keep it that way. But, you have no idea how much I wanted to get it off my chest, to tell you this. I know this may be something out of the blue for you, all I ask is for you to take what I say as true. However you respond to this, I can take it. I understand if you want us to continue as friends. Or not, if that's what you wish..."

More silence. Please, say something. Anything.

Three has been avoiding seeing Four's face, terrified. If he took one look, his world would surely crumble. To heartbreak, to hope. It'd be best if he didn't know. He just wants Four to believe him.

SMG4: "...So the 'that person' everyone else was talking about, that was me all along?"

SMG3 slowly nods.

SMG4: "Heh, I thought I was the only one."

Three dares to finally look at SMG4. Four was smiling. Surprised, sure. But smiling.

SMG4: "I'm not sure when it started for me either. The 'perfect' incident, WOTFI 2023. But spending time with you made me realize a lot of things. That I enjoy it, that I wanted to be with you. Just being... us." [*takes Three's hands into his own*] "I... love you too. To be honest, I was also scared that you might not feel the same way." SMG3: "This... isn't a dream, is it?" SMG4: "No. It's not, I promise."

The two stared at each other for a moment, lost in the other's loving eyes, before they slowly closed the gap they had. A soft kiss they shared, and it was all Three needed to believe Four.

It didn't take them long for them to become a couple. In the weeks that followed, they planned out so many dates. Picnics, carnival days, movie nights. Watching sunsets, seeing stars. Just enjoying each other's company.

Being them.

And, of course, they tell the Crew about their relationship. "We knew" was what they responded. And then something about everyone owing Mario money from a bet. Three would roll his eyes at this but he couldn't care less. This was the happiest Three has ever been.

Four. His shooting star, his sweet prince. His boyfriend.

It felt wonderful and no one could take that from him.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Well, at least, that's what he thought.

If only he knew that he wasn't at home, in the Showgrounds. But rather, in a dark isolating room. Away from the rest of the world. With his limbs tangled in wires, he laid on a table. Unmoved, asleep. In the corner sat Mr Puzzles, looking through a monitor.

For a former villain, Puzzles expected Three to act on his wishes to be back to his past glory. Three said it himself, "I'm the best villain". So, he figured Three should be given a "chance". Puzzles kidnapped him on the night Three was debating on his final decision and put him in the simulation Puzzles created.

He figured that the simulation would be the push Three needed to be a villain again, destroy the Crew for Puzzles. Why put in the effort when they could do it to themselves? Besides, he's curious to see Three's face when his villainy phase fades away and realizes what he has done. Well, Puzzles would've.

Instead, he got.... this. Not exactly what he expected, but it was also risky to pull Three out of the simulation without creating suspicion. If SMG3 found out he was behind this... No, he couldn't let this happen. He'll just have to add something into the simulation to really push Three over the edge. Hmm, perhaps he could made the digital SMG4 hate him. Or better yet, kill him right off.

A flashing red light interrupts his thoughts, warning Puzzles of intruders entering his hideout. It was them. How...?

On the other side of the room, a tired Eggdog let out a hopeful bark from his cage. He knew Beeg4 must've found the message he left behind before he was caught by Mr Puzzles.

Augh, no matter, Mr Puzzles will just have to deal with them.

Outside, the Crew busted down the gate and built a buddy system to cover more ground. SMG4, the real one, turned on his flashlight.

SMG4: "Hang tight, Three. We'll get you home, I promise."

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Mhm, what more could he ask from this?

Three looked down at Four, whose head was resting on his lap. Four kept his eyes closed as instructed by Three, he needed to relax away from his screen. Three was passing a hand through Four's hair. It was nice to just be the two of them here in the game room.

SMG3: "Can I go now?" SMG4: "Nope, you're stuck with me forever." SMG3: [*laughs, before going dramatic*] "Oh no, whatever should I do. Hmm, I guess that's what I get..." [*his hand stops*] SMG4: [*opens his right eye*] "Is something on your mind?" SMG3: "I just... I still can't believe you're my boyfriend." SMG4: [*opens both eyes*] "Well, no regrets on confessing?" SMG3: "I wouldn't change a thing." [*gives a kiss on his partner's forehead, continuing what he was doing*] "I'm glad you stayed." SMG4: "It's because of you I did."

Three hummed. Yep, he decided. He's definitely going to marry Four.

SMG3: "But, for real, can I get up? I want to grab something from the kitchen." SMG4: "Aw, party pooper." [*sits up, letting Three get off from the couch.*] SMG3: "Want anything?" SMG4: "Nah, I'm good."

SMG3 proceeded to head for the door but as soon as he went to grab the knob...

???: "SMG3! Can you hear me?" SMG3: "...Tari?"

Suddenly, the door was glitching, its shape distorting to an extreme.

SMG3: "What the...What's happening?"

The room followed suit, bits and pieces being replaced with a white void. Deleting itself.

SMG3: "Four, c'mon, we gotta get out of..."

When he turned around, he saw his partner calmly standing before him, unfazed by the chaos surrounding them. As if he was expecting this.

SMG3: "Four?" SMG4?: [*slowly taking Three's hand*] "No, Three. I'm not..." [*sighs*] "Remember back when you asked if this was a dream? I promised you then that it's not and I promise the same thing to you now. This isn't a dream. It's a simulation, created by the person who kidnapped you and put you here."

A beat. But the world waited for no one. Not even them.

SMG3: "...Who? Why?" SMG4?: "I don't have access to that information. I wish I could." [*looks at the growing cracks that peeked into the white void*] "Looks like your friends have found you and are taking you out of here."

SMG3 looks back at him, conflicted. He yearned for this life for so long, only for it to be a complete lie. Whoever placed him here was playing some kind of sick joke on him. Perhaps, it was too good to be true...

The two look down at their hands, only to see Four's hand fading away.

SMG4?, his voice starting to distort: "I'm just sorry it had to be this way. That you had to be part of it at all. But I will tell you this: a simulation can't be made out of nothing. Me, the Crew, everything, it's an exact copy of the real thing. What I'm trying to say is, don't let this bring you down. You've been through so much, Three. You deserve to love and to be loved. Your SMG4, the real one, does feel the same as you do. I would know." SMG3: "...What if it doesn't work out?" SMG4?: "Who knows? It happened once, it could happen again. Besides, remember what Melony said, you won't be alone. Your friends will still be there. And I'm sure he'll still be there too."

SMG3 pulls Four into a hug, leaving Four taken back by this. Sure, they've been dating for weeks, if you can even call it that, but usually when people find out this is a simulation, they would leave. They try to forget. Four smiles and hugs back. He should've known better with SMG3. In the middle of the hurricane of deleting pixels and code, there they were with tears silently falling down their cheeks.

SMG4?: "Promise me something: Don't lose the same courage you had when you confessed your feelings to me." SMG3, nods: "I promise." SMG4?: "Goodbye, Three..."

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

SMG3 let out a gasp, his lungs searching for air, as if he was swimming underwater for a long time. He covered his face with his arm, his eyes unable to stand the bright lights.

"SMG3!" "Thank gosh, you're okay!" "Guys, quiet down, he just got out of the simulation."

He could feel several hands helping him sit up from what seemed like a table. He wanted to speak but instead let out a harsh cough, his tongue feeling like sandpaper.

"Woah woah, take it easy. It's okay, you're safe."

He knew that voice. A familiar hand grabbed his, a thumb rubbing his knuckles in comfort.

"He looks so pale." "Dude, it's been weeks." "We should get him to the hospital." "Who did this to him?" "Whoever it was, they got away."

Slowly, Three's senses were coming back, and he immediately turned to the one who comforted him. Four. Three wanted to reach out, be in Four's arms. To let Four kiss him. Let Four tell him "I'm here". But he stopped himself.

It's the real SMG4, not his Four.

Melony took Eggdog out of his cage and handed him to Three, who comforted his son with a tight hug.

Mario: "SMG3, are you okay?" SMG3, his voice dry: "Yeah, I'm fine. Really." SMG4: "Then, why are you crying? Did something happen in the simulation?"

Three reached to touch his face. Four wasn't wrong about that. He swiped the tears away with his gloved hand.

SMG3: "Nothing. Nothing at all."

The Crew looked at each other, unsure of how to respond. Four didn't either, but he gave Three's hand a squeeze.

SMG4: "C'mon, let's go home."

SMG3 could only nod. With a bit of help, SMG4 and Mario carried Three with their arms while the Crew followed behind. Three looked over his shoulder, seeing the simulation contraption completely destroyed, before leaving the hideout for good.

Goodbye, Four.

Part Two

[7ndipity]

What Types of Kisses They Give

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: The title’s pretty self explanatory.

Warnings: Lil suggestive, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! This is probably the fastest I’ve written one of these in a while, but after running this blog for over a year, we definitely have some thoughts on this so it wasn't difficult, lol!

Masterlist

Requests are open

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Jin: Jin might not be the highest on the list for kisses(he’s more of a cuddler, imo), but when he gives them, he goes all in, deep and intense, pulling you in by your waist or cupping your face so you feel as close as possible. Always ends longer kisses with a couple tiny pecks as a final seal of affection. Big fan of pouty, spiderman kisses whenever he catches you walking by as he’s sitting on the sofa or whatever and just tilts his head back and waits for you to notice.

Yoongi: Kisses with Yoongi are slow and grounding. Even when he’s at his neediest and all his other actions are more frantic and shaky, his lips never lose their rhythm. He definitely gets a bit messy and sloppy at times(He’s mentioned the tongue technology too many times for it to be complete bs), but it’s always a slow and easy pace, bordering on teasing, bc he doesn’t want to overwhelm you through kisses(he prefers to do that in other ways👀).

Hobi: Hobi gives the best kisses, imo. He always pays super close attention to your reactions and tries to match your mood. Can go from sweet and soft to steamy and rough in a split second. His favorites tho are when it just starts to get spicy, bc he can feel you both losing yourselves in the moment and letting go. Those are the moments he feels most connected to you. I feel like he loves giving little pecks throughout the day every chance he gets tho.

Namjoon: Again, he might not technically be the biggest fan of physical affection, but when it comes to kisses, oof! It’s almost always super intense and passionate, clinging hands and heavy breathing. He’s not into one quick peck and then on with your day, nonono. He needs at least three or four good kisses before he can even think of doing anything else.(ironically, he then tends to forget that he's supposed to be doing anything else. oops)

Jimin: His kisses are just like him, 60% playful 40% intense, often ping-ponging between both in the same session. They’re full of teasing nips and roaming, ticklish hands. One of his favorite things is when you laugh into a kiss (it just feels like the purest form of joy). Gives the softest, sleepy kisses where his lips just barely press against yours, but he has to have them before he sleeps. Loves covering any part of you that he can reach with kisses.

Taehyung: This boy kisses like he needs them for oxygen, insistent and lingering. He will find any excuse to kiss you, pulling you close and holding your face so gently while stealing your breath and nearly bruising your lips with his intensity. Tends to rest his forehead against yours afterwards, wanting to stay as close to you as possible. Loves when you randomly kiss him, even if he’s in the middle of telling a story, he just gets the biggest, boxy smile.

Jungkook: Kisses with Jk usually start out as slow and sweet but quickly escalate into messy makeouts full of roaming hands and bitten lips. Loves when you pullplay with his hair. Whereas Yoongi doesn’t want to overwhelm you with his kisses, Kook loves teasing and overwhelming you in every way possible. Would happily spend hours doing little more than kissing you, only stopping to randomly ask “Is that a new lip balm?”

[healmydesires]

forever in your eyes (j.m)

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

summary: It wasn’t like you hadn’t dated before. You had been on plenty of dates since you’ve been in Jackson, too many actually, you’ve even been in a semi serious relationship, but unfortunately, nobody had really charmed their way into your heart like they were supposed to. You’ve never been in love, always thought that falling in love wasn’t meant for you. Until one day, you meet a certain grumpy man.

genre: fluff + romance + angst + smut (18+ mdni)

word count: 15k+

tags/warnings: age gap (reader is 27, joel is in his early 50’s), takes place post s1, very minimal use of y/n, soft!joel tbh, kinda shy!reader… at least with joel, flirty joel, joel deserves to be loved, assumed unrequited love from both sides, reader described as shorter than joel, mutual pining, inexperienced/virgin!reader, unprotected sex, piv sex, loss of virginity, soft!dom joel, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), joel has high key an oral fixation, kinda pleasure!dom?, multiple orgasms, creampie, some breeding kink, overstimulation, size kink, joel is huge… literally packing oof, lots of pet names (darlin, sweetheart, angel, baby girl, etc.), reader has a sister (named emilie, so if that’s your name I’m so sorry 😭😭😭 you can imagine another name then 🥺. I didn’t want it to be y/s/n because that would be so annoying to write imo).

a/n: this is my first joel fic. this is kinda more soft tbh… might be a bit oc? I don’t know but I love it. It’s pretty self indulgent !!! I’ve always loved writing but I got a lot discouraged in the past, giving up on it. I was inspired to start writing again by some of my favourite writers @joelmama and @joelscruff. also english is like my third language so please be nice/gentle with me. do not give me unsolicited advice pls <3 anyways! I hope you enjoy it 🥺

please don’t forget to interact, reblog or let me know if you read/loved it! <3 thank you ily 🥺

AO3 ● playlist

You knew you had feelings for Joel Miller. You’ve always liked and cared for him, even when you first met.

You still remember the day you met him. Clear as day.

It was such a warm and beautiful day, like a year and a half ago. The sun was beaming down on you as you were reading a book that you found on one of your trips outside Jackson — on your front porch of your house. The blowing mid-summer wind was hitting your face, cooling, as if to apologise for the almost unbearable heat that Jackson was currently subjected to. The soft breeze was caressing your skin and hair making the heat a lot more bearable as you enjoyed the day.

You were so immersed in your book that you didn’t hear the people approaching you until there was a shadow descending over the pages of your book. Someone was standing in front of you, their body blocking the sun.

“Yes?” You said with a smile without looking up from your book.

“I would like to introduce you to some people.”

The voice belonged to Tommy. Tommy Miller.

Your eyes widened at that, and you looked up from your book and saw that there were two other people behind Tommy looking down at you.

“I’m sorry,” you said before you cleared your throat, giving them a sheepish smile before standing from your lounger, shielding your eyes from the sun to get a better look at the strangers in front of you.

A teenager gave you a polite smile as she introduced herself. As you gave her your name in return you finally noticed the man next to her, gave you a curt nod when you locked eyes with him. He had a broad build, dark eyes and brown peppered hair. You assumed he was around the age of fifty and you couldn’t help but find him incredibly handsome.

“This is Ellie and my brother,” Tommy smiled as he gestured to both people next to him. “They’re your new neighbours.”

You knew Tommy had an older brother but you didn't know what you had been expecting. Maybe someone less handsome. As you continued to take him in you realised you were staring. You felt your body becoming more warm as you felt him stare back at you.

“How’s it going? I’m Y/N.” You gave him a small smile as you stepped forward to extend a hand out to the man.

"Hello," he repeated your name with a deep southern accent, which did nothing to calm your racing heart. You don’t think you’ve ever heard a voice that attractive in your entire life and it made heat flood to your cheeks. His hard expression melted into a more soft one as he took your hand in his. "I’m Joel, how’s your bench going?”

Your eyes widened at his words, “My bench? How did you—”

“We saw you through the living room window earlier this morning or more like Joel did.” Ellie, the teenager said with a huge grin on her face.

“Ellie.” He warned under his breath. His ears turned red and the two of them began to argue in hushed whispers, but your mind was elsewhere as panic began to set in.

Oh my god. He noticed me?

You grew embarrassed as you realised that he saw you struggle to fix that old bench on your porch. You’re painfully aware of how clumsy you are and that you’re not handy at all but you don’t like to ask other people for help. It was not because of your pride or any of that sort, you’d hate to burden someone else with your issues, so you mostly keep trying to fix things yourself.

"Oh yeah..." You said, looking back towards the bench that has been the bane of your existence these past few days. Your words effectively pulled Joel and Ellie out of their current argument. "It's a bit broken and needs some fixing."

Joel just looked at you for a moment before speaking up again. “You know, if you want, I could come check it out?”

You felt your cheeks heat up again at his offer and you glanced over at Tommy. “Uhm…”

“We both used to be contractors back in the day, so if you ever need anything repaired or something built, we are your people. Well… Joel specifically.” Tommy laughed.

“Oh, that’s cool. I think I’m good for now though, I don’t need any help but thanks for offering.” You declined politely with a small smile. You knew you could use their or his help with repairing the bench, but you didn’t want to burden anyone. And the older brother was already making you feel flustered, you didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself when you just met.

“Alright, you know where to find me if you change your mind.” He gave you a small but genuine smile before the three of them walked away from you.

As they walked away, you released a breath you didn't realise you were holding. The hammering of your heart only registering as the distance grew between you. You felt a bit of disappointment once they were gone, a sense of longing setting in your heart as you thought about the tall and older man that you know you’ll grow to care for.

—

“God damn it. Work with me please.” You grumbled as you tried to fix one of the loose wooden planks of the bench. Sweat was dripping down your forehead as you concentrated on your task at hand. You were on the floor, crouched underneath the bench you were so desperately trying to repair. You’ve been trying to put it off for a couple of weeks now but you knew you couldn’t keep doing that. You knew you should ask someone for help but you didn’t want to give up just yet. Curse words wouldn’t stop leaving your mouth as you struggled. “Fuck.”

“I didn’t take you as a girl that could curse like a sailor.” A low and deep but still soft voice resounds behind you.

“Ah shit!” you gasped as you heard the voice behind you. You’d smacked your head on the edge of the bench when you’d startled at the sudden intrusion. You recognised that voice. Joel Miller. The man that’s been consuming your thoughts for weeks now. You hissed as you rubbed at the already sore spot and landed on your butt as you looked up at him.

The bemused expression morphed into one of concern as he crouched down to your level. “Are you okay?” He replaced your hand with his own, making sure there was no visible injury.

His touch made your body turn hot as he continued to study you.

“Yeah I-I’m fine. Although, I do think it will be a nice bump later.” You chuckled. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that, it’s not good for my heart.”

“And your head,” he said as a grin replaced the one of concern. You were glad to be sitting because that smile has been making you weak in the knees lately. Ever since you’ve been introduced you’ve been talking and hanging out here and there, finding out that the man can smile sometimes. You’re not entirely sure why he felt so at ease around you but you were truly grateful that he was spending time with you. (It might be for the fact that Ellie grew fond of you and loved to ask you a million questions whenever she was around.) He had the prettiest smile you’d ever seen and it lit up his whole face, you truly wish he would smile more. Subconsciously you started biting your lip as you admired him.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” He questioned with a chuckle as he looked at the state of the bench next to you.

Your face grew warm as you moved to focus your gaze on your hands. “I’m fine.” You whisper softly as you continue to look at your hands in your lap.

You heard him sigh before he took your chin gently in his hand to tilt your head back, making you look into his eyes.

“You know it’s okay to ask for help sometimes?” He said as he studied you intently. It was hard to maintain his eye contact, your face heating up more under his intense gaze and because of the close proximity of both of your faces.

His brown eyes stared into yours and you couldn’t help but find them the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever looked at. Your eyes flitted all over his face, not being able to stay in one place. You couldn’t get over how handsome he was. His head tilted to the side and he gave you a questionable look. You felt embarrassed as you realised you hadn’t replied to him yet.

“Sorry,” you bit your lip nervously as warmth spread even more to your cheeks. Your eyes moved away from his face to a spot behind him as you stared into the distance. “I just don’t want to burden you.” Your voice sounded so small and squeaky that you cringed internally. Embarrassed, you quickly drop your gaze to your lap.

“Oh, Darlin’,” he said gently, his expression turning more soft. “Sweetheart, you could never be a burden.”

“I’m sorry,” you bit the inside of your cheek as you tried to keep yourself from getting emotional. “I didn’t mean to… I just— I just always feel like it’s best I do everything myself all the time because I don’t want to annoy anyone with my problems.”

You’ve always been someone to wear your heart on your sleeve. You’re a very sensitive person and very in tune with your emotions most of the time. People saw you as a very caring and helpful person but when it came to your own things you mostly tended to yourself. You’re aware that most people aren’t like you, at least not anymore ever since the outbreak happened, but you didn’t care. There’s strength in sensitivity.

“You could never annoy me,” Joel frowned. “especially not when it comes to you struggling to do something on your own.”

You weren’t used to people caring for you the way you cared for others. So when Joel reassured you or took the time to hang out with you, you couldn’t help but feel appreciated.

His reassuring words gradually eased your anxiety. You let out a long sigh before looking up at him again. “O-okay, I-I think… I might need your help.” You stutter, hoping he didn’t catch it but he smiled at you warmly instead.

Shit, he’s so pretty. Come on, forget it. He could never have feelings for you.

“Good. Because I’d love to help.” He winked at you with a crooked smile.

Warmth flooded your body as you stared at him, you couldn’t help but feel flustered around him. You’re certain that your heart is running two hundred miles per hour, because it felt like it was about to burst out of your chest.

It’s just a silly crush. You told yourself.

—

Turns out, Joel Miller, your hot new neighbour, could be very handy.

He was able to fix the bench you've been fighting with for weeks in less than an hour. You were truly impressed.

As he brought back the supplies he used to repair the bench back inside to your supply closet, you couldn’t help but want him to stay a little longer. Besides, you wanted to thank him for being so helpful. You’re relieved and so grateful that the ‘demon bench’, as you had called it, was now fixed

“Thank you for helping me out, Joel. It means a lot to me.” You said as you smiled up at him as you both walked towards your front door.

“Oh darlin’ it’s no problem. I loved helping you.” He said with a grin. He moved closer, making your breath hitch which made him smile even more. “You can ask me anything. Whenever you need.” He winked and you felt your insides melt at his words and his actions.

“I-I want to be able to thank you. Give something in return for your help.” You smiled shyly at him.

“You don’t have to do anything for me sweet—”

“Please, let me make you dinner. It’s the least I can do after what you did for me.” You cut him off as you looked up at him with wide eyes. “Ellie is welcome too!” You added nervously when he took a bit longer to reply.

He snorts softly at your words before clearing his throat. “Ellie isn't in tonight,” he says as he avoids your gaze for a few seconds “she’s at this girl’s place she hangs out with a lot. So it’s just me.”

“Oh that’s okay! I’m sure she can join us next time.” You flashed him a bright smile. “But, I’d love to make dinner for you tonight… if that’s okay?” You asked with pleading eyes.

He chuckled fondly at your expression as he shook his head with amusement. “Of course. I’d love that.”

You felt like you were going to burst out of excitement. Internally you’re screaming, kicking with your legs like a schoolgirl thinking about her crush. You really loved spending time with the man.

Joel followed you back inside as you quickly disappeared down the hall and into the dining room that’s connected to your kitchen. You saw him admire the walls of your dining room from your peripheral view as you’re rummaging in one of the cupboards of your kitchen for a cutting board. Most of the paintings were either more abstract gradient paintings or heavily inspired by the Impressionism art movement.

“You have lots of paintings. They are very pretty.”

“Thank you. Some of them are made by me or my sister.” You smiled genuinely as you made your way back to him.

“Really?” He asked curiously.

Your smile turned timid as you looked up at him, Joel's inquisitive look making you even more shy.

“Yeah… we both love art. Especially making our own sometimes.” You cleared your throat with another bashful smile, before looking down at your shoes.

“Is your sister…?”

“Is she alive? Yes” you finished his question. “She lives here in Jackson with her boyfriend actually.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah. I’m truly grateful to have her in my life.” You told him. “She’s my best friend.”

“That’s beautiful” he nods at you as a small smile graces his features. You can’t help but feel yourself get more warm at his soft expressions. He’s so beautiful. “How did you two find your way to Jackson?”

“It’s a long story. I don’t think I’ve ever told you this but, originally my sister and I weren't from here… the USA I mean.” You told him.

Joel’s eyes widened at your words. You giggled at his expression.

“We are originally from Europe, I was still very young when the outbreak happened. I was around? Seven years old. We were in San Francisco when it happened and my sister and I haven’t really moved from that place for a long time ever since everything went down.” You said as you walked back to the kitchen.

“Christ. That’s very young.” He said, he looked shocked as you told him as much as you wanted him to know.

“Yeah but Emilie was four when it happened.” You said as you bit your lip.

“It must be hard being trapped in a foreign country. Especially when you’re a child.”

“Yeah… My parents eventually died when I turned eighteen. So it was just Emilie and I for a long time. One day a couple of years ago she went outside the San Francisco QZ and I hadn’t heard from her for a long while. I just… I had to look for her, she’s my sister, she means everything to me. I would literally travel through this whole country just to find her. I always felt like I needed to protect her. I’ve always been very overprotective of her, just like I know she is with me.” You chuckled as you shook your head with amusement at your previous words.

“Overprotective huh?” He said as he flashed you a grin as he came to lean against a wall close to you.

“Yeah,” you giggled. “I am the big sister but sometimes it does feel like she’s more overprotective than I am.”

“Your sister seems very nice. I do understand her being overprotective though.” He smiled as he leaned closer to you.

“Oh really?” You bit your lip as you continued to prepare everything for dinner.

“Yeah, I mean you’re a precious little thing so I do understand her overprotectiveness.” He muttered.

Heat rose up in your face at his words. You couldn’t look up at him, feeling too flustered to look him in the eye. Your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest as you kept repeating his words in your head. He thought you were precious.

Was that flirting? No. He would never flirt with you.

“Y-you think so?” You question shyly, still not meeting his gaze.

“Uhuhm” He hummed softly, “I don’t only think that, it is so. You’re very precious.”

“O-oh.” You were at loss for words.

Joel chuckled, probably because of your flustered state, before he noticed you struggled with the ingredients. “Let me help you sweetheart.”

“No, it’s okay.” You said. But as most people knew, Joel was a stubborn man.

“Darlin,” he looked at you pointedly, letting you know that you wouldn’t be able to stop him from giving you a hand.

“I’m making dinner for you, to thank you. You shouldn’t be helping me.” You huffed as you crossed your arms in front of your chest. You’re aware you probably look like a child but you can’t help it. Dinner was supposed to be made by you, and only you.

“Oh angel, being in your presence is rewarding enough for me.” He says as he leans closer to your ear.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his words. The sound of his deep voice close to your ear, and the feeling of his breath against your skin, made you fight the urge to shiver.

Joel smiled playfully, eyes looked down and locked with yours for a couple of seconds. The close proximity made your skin set on fire. He could lean down a bit more and then his lips would be on yours. You slowly pulled back, clearing your throat while you did.

“A-a-anyways.” You stuttered. You hated stuttering, you never really stuttered but somehow this man could turn you into a flustered, stuttering mess. His smile widened at your state which made you want to run and hide. You decided to change the subject. “I had to go through some states to find her and eventually I found her. Then we travelled together through Wyoming and then some people from Jackson surrounded us and that’s how we got here. That was almost a year ago.”

“So… You are pretty new here?”

“Yep.” You said as you smiled at him.

It was silent for a moment as both of you were preparing everything for dinner. Until your eyes widened at the realisation that you hadn’t offered him anything to drink yet.

“Oh shit, sorry. I can’t believe that I haven’t offered you something to drink yet.” You said as you abandoned your current task, running towards another supply closet, looking for something good for the both of you. “Give me a second.”

You could hear Joel chuckle, knowing he was probably looking at you with an amused expression on his face. You were looking for a specific bottle of red wine, your favourite, the ones you always keep for special occasions. Once you found it you couldn’t help but squeal excitedly. “Aha! Here it is!” You smiled triumphantly as you held it in your hands.

You were grinning widely as you came back into the kitchen. “I’ve got some red wine, I hope that’s okay.” You said as you placed down the bottle on the kitchen counter.

“More than okay.” Joel smiled.

You beamed up at him and opened one of the cabinets, you stood on the tip of your toes as you struggled to reach for some wine glasses.

“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself. “Why did I put those glasses so high and so far in the back?”

“Let me,” he chuckled softly as he stepped behind you, his body pressing softly against yours. Your breath hitched at the action and warmth spread all over your body. You mentally cursed yourself as you felt a heat pool between your legs. Different kinds of scenarios started going through your head as you felt his body pressed against yours. You wished his arms were wrapped around you as he stood behind you. But one of his arms extended over yours as he reached for two glasses easily. “Here they are.” He whispered as he leant down to whisper close to your ear.

You truly felt as if you caught a fever. He’s so close and so big. As his chest brushed against your back you felt as if your brain short circuited for a second. He was so broad and tall while you were so much smaller than him, he could quite literally swallow you whole with his frame.

You felt his body slowly retreat from yours, giving you the possibility to collect your thoughts again.

“Show off,” you grumbled teasingly, warmth still filling your chest and face.

Joel snorted, shaking his head amused. “You’re just tiny.”

You gasped dramatically, turned around and feigned offence at his words. “Am not!”

“Sure you aren’t.” He teased, a grin forming on his face.

You giggled at that, “you’re just awfully tall.”

“Right.” He nodded along to your words, tried to look as serious as he could, he tried to stifle a grin and you could see right through him.

“I am right.” You pouted.

“So am I.” He retorted playfully, a loud laugh left his lips as you continued to pout, before he took a step closer to you.

Your cheeks warmed, but you tried to hide your embarrassment by crossing your arms and sticking your chin up in the air. Huffing you turned around, “get back to work Mr. Miller.”

“Yes ma’am” he said in mock seriousness as he went back to making dinner with you.

“You’re so silly,” you giggled as you teasingly bumped your shoulder against his arm. You went to open the bottle of wine before pouring some of the liquid in both glasses. Once the glasses were filled you held a glass out to him.

“Only with you darlin’,” he gave you a wink before he took the glass from your hand. Flushed, you tried to ignore the way your heart skipped in your chest when his fingers brushed against yours.

This man is going to be the death of me.

—

Dinner was very nice. There was lots of banter, lots of words exchanged from Joel that felt awfully like flirting but still you tried to push those thoughts away. He wouldn’t flirt with you. You’re pretty certain of it. The tension sometimes was killing you though. You think it was sexual tension but then again that would be impossible because he wasn’t flirting with you.

But you also noticed that the more you hung out with Joel the more relaxed he was around you. You loved that for him. Underneath all that rough exterior he has so much depth to him. He’s very caring, protective, helpful, funny, and so intelligent. He’s so sweet to you too, you didn’t know why. But all you knew is that you care for him so much. You felt comfortable around him too, safe. You couldn’t help but associate him with warmth, safety. Home. He felt like home to you.

Empty plates were still on the table and for a while you were enjoying the comfortable silence between you two. Eventually you broke that silence.

“The wine is so good.” You whispered as you looked at your wine glass then brought your gaze softly to the man sitting across from you. He seemed like he was lost in his thoughts, staring off in the distance as he looked through the window outside towards your garden.

He brought his gaze back to you as he heard your voice, he cocked his head to the side. “Hmmm what did you say sweetheart?”

“It’s good right?” You ask as you motion with your head to the drink in your hand.

“You’re not wrong. It’s very good.” He nods with a soft smile.

“It’s my favourite,” you flashed him a grin before you took a generous sip of your wine, the liquid burning down your throat.

“Oh really?” He questioned with a curious smile.

“Yeah, I keep them for special occasions.” You said as you bit your lip, feeling bashful.

“Is that so?” Joel’s smile turned into a full smirk as he looked straight into your eyes. “I am assuming this is a special occasion then?”

You hummed your agreement, shrugging your shoulders with faux nonchalance as you continued to bite your lip. Warmth was overwhelming you. Not only because of the alcohol you consumed but that man always made you heat up.

“I’ll consider that as a compliment.” He said as he leaned back in his chair.

Excitement bubbled inside you. Feeling bold, you winked at him. “As you should.”

He was visibly surprised, Joel didn't expect you to finally flirt back. You giggled at his reaction, pleased to see that you could surprise him.

You stood up from your seat with a smile as you took the empty plates from the table, bringing them to the sink.

As you’re about to turn the faucet on you heard him stand up from his chair. He muttered your name, his voice coming out a lot deeper than usual. Fighting back a shiver you slowly turned around to look at him. Your eyes were wide with curiosity and your heart was pounding so hard you could barely hear over the sound of blood rushing in your ears. He looked at you, a desperate expression on his face.

“Darlin’,” he said, his voice hoarse as his dark eyes continued to hold your gaze. For the first time of the night you couldn’t fight back the shiver from going down your spine. Heat flooded your body, your cheeks burning, the warmest you’ve ever felt them.

Joel must have noticed the way your body was reacting to his voice, as he dragged a low shuddering breath at the sight of you.

“Joel?” Your breath turned heavier as you waited for him to say or do something. Your wide pleading eyes stared into his hungry eyes. He continued to stand there just looking at you, his chest moved quicker as he breathed more heavily. Your heart pounded so fast and hard that you were worried that he could hear it from across the room.

Your eyebrows pulled together as you stared at him, your eyes shining with curiosity. You waited with bated breath for Joel to say what he was meant to tell you. He looked at you desperately before he moved from his spot, striding towards you but before he could reach you, someone barged through the door of your home with a loud bang.

“Hey! I knew I’d find you here.” Ellie yelled without looking at both of you. Once her eyes settled on both Joel and you her mouth fell open. “What’s happening?”

You were breathing heavily as you looked at Joel. Eventually you brought your gaze to the teen. “N-nothing, Ellie bean.” You stuttered out quickly, moving away from the kitchen towards the younger girl. “We just had dinner.”

Her eyes widened, “without me?”

Your face flushed with embarrassment before you turned around to look at Joel. “I thought she was at—”

“I’m assuming you told her I wasn’t home tonight, right?” Ellie cut you off, raising one of her eyebrows as she looked at him.

Wait what? Did he want to be alone with me?

Joel swallowed and then avoided both Ellie and your gazes. “Alright.” She snorted.

“I think it's better if we go home.” Joel finally spoke up, before walking towards Ellie. You feel yourself deflate at his words and you can’t help but feel a bit disappointed.

“O-okay.” You whispered, looking down as you entwined both of your hands nervously.

Ellie looked at you with sympathy before glaring up at Joel. “You’re so stupid.” She grumbled under her breath as she gave him a shove as she made her way to the front door.

“Ellie,” he warned her.

“You are.” She sneered.

Joel sighed deeply as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He dropped his hand before looking at you. “Thank you for dinner,” he said with a small but grateful smile.

“Thank you for fixing my bench on the front porch,” you gave him a faint smile. “I enjoyed spending time with you.” You said as you looked away timidly.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me.”

You bit your lip as you avoided his gaze. He said your name softly before he held your chin gently with one of his hands, tilting your head towards his face which made your eyes lock with his own.

“I always enjoy spending time with you.” Warmth rose to your face at his words. He gave you a warm smile before releasing your chin.

You walked with him towards your front door, leaning against it as you tried to say your goodbyes to each other.

“I really enjoyed tonight.”

“Me too.” You said as you bit your lip.

“Goodnight darlin’.” He said with a barely noticeable smile before he walked out your door.

Your eyes met Ellie’s waving at you from in front of your porch. You return the action with a small wave.

“Goodnight.” You whispered before you closed the door behind them. You rested your back against the door, exhaling a long breath you realised you didn’t know you were holding in.

—

You were in too deep.

As months went by, you were more and more aware of how strong your feelings were beginning to grow for Joel. So strong that they were starting to terrify you. Not because you didn’t want to have these feelings for him, no that was certainly not it. You just never experienced feelings this strong for someone before.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t dated before. You had been on plenty of dates since you’ve been in Jackson, too many actually, you’ve even been in a semi serious relationship, but unfortunately, nobody had really charmed their way into your heart like they were supposed to.

You’ve never been touched intimately before, never had sex either. You knew how inexperienced you were but so far, you just hadn’t found someone to be worthy of your time.

You’ve never fallen in love with anyone before. And these new feelings were truly scaring you. For so long you were so certain that you’d never fall in love with someone. That falling in love wasn’t meant for you. That those feelings would never exist for you. The apocalypse hadn’t made things easier either so it wasn’t like falling in love was an option for a long time. But now that you’re relatively more safe, it was a possibility.

It was so much easier when it was just a crush, or an infatuation, despite the fact that you knew that crushes usually wouldn’t make your heart swell so big or your lungs feel so tight when you think of them or see them. But now, it’s a lot harder to pretend that it’s not more than that.

You always dreamed of the day you’d finally fall in love but now that those feelings were here they made you feel like you wanted to run and hide.

You’re not sure you’d be ready to confess those feelings to him any time soon. You were quite certain that they would be one sided, so you’d prefer to keep those to yourself. Because why would someone like him ever see you the way you see him, the way you feel for him. You were a lot younger than him, around twenty years or so. You’re twenty seven. So it seemed impossible for you that he could regard you in the same way you did.

So you decided to do just that, keep them a secret. And you were completely fine with that, with your feelings remaining completely unknown to anyone but yourself.

Or so you thought.

—

On a beautiful warm spring day, you decided you were going to indulge in your favourite hobby. Drawing.

You’ve always loved art, specifically, you loved sketching. If it wasn’t for the fact that the world ended, you’d like to think you would’ve studied art or tried to become an artist.

You were pretty good at it actually, not to sound too full of yourself. But with the way things were, your skills weren’t at their full potential. And besides you didn’t like to tell most people, keeping it a secret because you were always too shy or embarrassed to show people your talents. So you sketched as much as you could in your free time.

You loved to draw all sorts of things, nature, still life, animals and sometimes, people. But on top of your innocent drawings you also had a specific secret sketchbook that you only drew in when you were certain you were alone.

This sketchbook was dedicated entirely to indulging in your massive crush on Joel Miller. (Okay, crush is an understatement.) It was usually difficult to draw a specific person when they weren’t standing right in front of you, but you had seen his face so many times that it was nearly photographically imprinted in your mind. You would often summon his face up whenever you were alone. As many times as you could. Most of these were just his face, the sketchbook was definitely filled with several of him smiling. Some were just details of, for example, his hands or his eyes. Or even his nose or lips.

Everything about him made you feel warm inside. You would always be a flustered mess around him and it would even make you heat up when you’d draw him. Sometimes you’d have to take breaks from drawing him because you’d start getting too hot from thinking about him.

You often felt like you were doing something bad or wrong, like you were some sort of stalker when all you did was admire him.

It was a specific drawing you were currently working on, after checking and double-checking that you were truly alone. It was a beautiful day and you had the day off, so you figured what better way to spend it then by sitting on your front porch all day while enjoying the weather and sketching out what you’d seen the man do during your shared patrol the day before.

The drawing was him holding his gun as he concentrated on a target in front of him. You were so focused on sketching him as well as you could, wanting to capture every feature of him in the best way possible. You recalled his intense expression, the way his jaw clenched while he was so focused yesterday. His dark brown eyes and his handsome side profile—

“What are you drawing?”

You practically jumped and yelled as you heard the voice close to you. Hurriedly you tried to close the sketchbook as you addressed the person standing close to you. “Ellie! You scared me. What are you doing here?”

“I’m just done with school and thought I’d drop by. I kinda wanted to spend some time with you.” She smiled at you as she was leaning against the wall. The soft expression slowly turned into a more mischievous smile as she cocked her head to the side to study you. “You okay there, Y/N?”

You swallowed nervously before giving her your best smile. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well… you’re looking pretty nervous or flustered. Embarrassed even.” She said as she smirked deviously.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m perfectly fine.” You said as you tried to keep your composure.

You could never tell Ellie about the fact that you’re drawing Joel. He’s practically her father figure. Besides, you were quite certain it would make the whole situation awkward.

“You sure?” She asked as she leaned closer to you. “Could it have something to do with… what you’re drawing?”

“I— no. I mean no.”

“Hmmm.” Ellie hummed as she looked at you suspiciously.

Before you could react, Ellie snatched the sketchbook out of your hands at lightning speed.

Fuck. fuck. FUCK. Please no.

“Ellie—”

You sprang to your feet and quickly tried to grab the book back from her, but Ellie pulled it just out of reach at the last second with a huge teasing smirk on her face. Your face burned with shame.

“It’s nothing Ellie, please give it back!” You couldn’t hide the terrified desperation in your voice.

“You sure it’s nothing?” She said as she hid the sketchbook behind her back.

“Yes!” Apprehension fills your bones at her actions.

“Ah, then I’m sure you wouldn’t mind letting me take a peek at what’s inside right?” Ellie grinned dangerously as she moved the book in front of her.

“Please give it back.” Tears started to well up in your eyes as you pleaded for her to give it back.

Shit. It’s over.

As she opened the book on a random page, a gasp left her mouth. “Oh my god?!”

“Ellie, I’m—”

“You’re drawing Joel?” She whispered with wide eyes as she flipped through the pages.

You’ve never felt your face warm up this hot in your entire life. “No?” You said nervously but it came out more as a question.

Ellie said your name softly as she looked at you with a huge smile. “You have a crush on Joel?”

“I— I-I’m— uhm I don’t know, I just—” you stuttered as you tried to retrieve the sketchbook. Ellie pulled back which made you want to scream internally.

“It’s okay, I’m not mad.” Her face softened as she saw you look utterly terrified. “If anything, I’m very happy.”

“What?” You asked as you blinked your tears away.

“How could I be mad at you? I’ve always wanted Joel to be happy. He deserves that, even if he often doesn’t think he deserves that himself.” She smiled at you before looking back at some of the drawings inside the book. “They’re very beautiful by the way. I love drawing too.” She stepped closer to you as she went to put the book back in your hands. “Besides,” she shrugged nonchalantly, “he has a crush on you too.”

“Oh.”

Warmth flooded your body as you listened to her. You quickly felt overwhelmed by her words and everything that happened, you needed to sit down to process it better. You went to sit down with the book in your lap, looking down at it as you were at loss for words. It was very difficult for you to wrap your head around what she said. Joel having feelings for you? You couldn’t allow yourself to believe it. As you let her words sink in, she took a place next to you, placing a hand on your arm and giving it a small reassuring squeeze. Ellie gave you enough time to collect your thoughts and you were truly grateful for that.

You heaved out a long sigh. “I don’t have a crush.” You finally spoke up but not meeting her gaze just yet.

“What? But—”

“Saying it’s a crush is an understatement.” Your voice trembled as you finally looked at her. “I’ve never felt like this in my entire life, so it’s hard for me to deal with what I’m feeling.”

“Oh.” She said as her eyes widened. “You’re… In love?”

“I am pretty sure I am, yes.” You nodded with a small smile.

“Okay. Well he has feelings for—”

“Ellie, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have feelings for me.” You interrupted her.

“Oh my god,” she groaned as she hid her face in her hands, mumbling, “you’re both so oblivious.”

“What?”

“You’re both so stupid. So oblivious.” She groaned once again as she threw her hands in the air. “You both think that the feelings are one sided.”

“I don’t know…” you trailed off as you let yourself lean back on the bench. You’re quite certain that you’re the only one being so consumed by these emotions. You’ve pretty much made your mind up about the fact that it’s impossible for him to return any of those feelings that you have for him.

“The atmosphere when I came in the last time both of you had dinner, just the two of you, certainly didn’t look like it was one sided.”

“Barged in.” You corrected her teasingly as you bumped your shoulder into hers.

“Okay, whatever. My point still stands.”

“Ellie, that was months ago…” you sighed deeply and shook your head at her words.

“Stop. Why do you do this?” She asked exasperated.

“Wh—”

“Why do you believe that he wouldn’t have feelings for you too?” Ellie questioned as she leaned closer to you. “Like, you’re so pretty and have such a lovely personality.”

“I-I I don’t know. I just find it hard to believe. Besides,” you shrugged with a frown “I find it very hard to deal with my own emotions because I’ve never been in love before so this is so new to me.”

Her eyes softened as she listened to you. Slowly, she brought her hand to squeeze your arm reassuringly. “I can understand that. But love is a beautiful thing.”

“True…” you whispered.

“I can understand being scared, but Y/N you’re so worthy of love. Just like Joel is. I am convinced both of you are meant for each other.” She said with a hopeful expression.

“Ellie—”

“I’m serious. Just, please think about it for a while. You both deserve more than this secret pining for each other.” She grumbled at the last sentence.

“Okay I will. Can we please talk about something else now?”

“Sure.” She shrugged with a smile.

“Thank you, Ellie bean.” You said gratefully.

It’s quiet between you two, as you two sit in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying the beautiful weather and each other’s company.

“So… drawing huh?” She grinned.

—

As Ellie and you were talking about your shared love for drawing you heard someone approaching the both of you. Ellie is the first one to look up and she greets the person with a wide smile.

“Hi Emilie!” Ellie beamed as your sister stepped foot on your front porch.

“Oh, here are my favourite girls!” She said with the biggest grin on her face. Emilie brought her hand up to high-five Ellie. “Hey ravioli.” She said as the youngest girl hit her hand.

Ellie scoffed and rolled her eyes dramatically. “Jeez, just because I love ravioli doesn’t mean you have to call me that. Can’t a girl love food in peace.”

Your sister doesn’t reply to the teen and averted her attention to you, greeting you too. Emilie gestures for Ellie to scooch over, before she plops down on the bench between both of you. “So what are you guys talking about?”

“Hey! That bench was recently repaired! There’s no need for you to let yourself fall on the seat like that.” You groan at your sister's silly behaviour.

“Recently? That was months ago.” Ellie counters with a playful smile.

“Ah yes, the bench that the love of your life repaired.” Emilie said with a dreamy expression.

You gasped at her words, feeling your cheeks heat up instantly. You gave her a light shove, “Emilie!”

“What?” Your sister shrugs nonchalantly, “it’s true.”

“Love of your life?” Ellie beams.

You sighed dramatically before leaning against the back of the bench. “Look at what you just did.” You gestured towards Ellie.

“Oh quit the theatrics.” Your sister rolled her eyes teasingly. “Everyone knows you have feelings for Joel except for that man himself.”

Your eyes widened as her words registered in your mind. “Everyone?” You squeaked.

“Yes, just like everyone knows that man is pining over you except for you!” Your sister said exasperated.

You shook your head frantically. “You’re ly—”

“Oh my god, Y/N.” Ellie groaned. “Wake up.”

“Yeah, lovely sister of mine,” Emilie placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a serious look, “respectfully wake the fuck up.”

“Disrespectfully, Emilie, shut up.” You said to your sister, shrugging her hand off you. You crossed your arms in front of your chest, pouting as you still leaned against the bench.

“Why are you pouting? This is a good thing.” Ellie huffed.

“Yeah, this is a good thing. Why don’t you want to allow good things into your life?” Emilie asked, looking at you seriously.

Silence fell for some moments, before you whispered, “I don’t feel like I deserve it.”

“Yes, you do!” Both Ellie and your sister said simultaneously.

You bit your lip as you looked at them silently. You knew deep down that you deserved to love and be loved in return but it was so hard for you to accept that someone could genuinely have feelings for you. It wouldn’t make any sense, you were always used to people that were attracted to you to expect something from you that you weren’t ready to do or they wouldn’t genuinely care about who you are as a person. You knew Joel was different, he showed you enough through the past year. But somehow your mind tried to tell you otherwise.

“This is driving me insane,” Ellie sighed, shaking her head.

“Ellie,” your sister said pointedly at the younger girl before turning back to look back at you. “Y/N… you are so worthy of love. I know you’ve never experienced this type of emotion or feeling ever before, but you deserve to feel safe with someone and to love someone deeply and for them to love you just as fiercely. I know you keep thinking because of past relationships, friendships or situationships that people aren’t truly interested in you or that people don’t genuinely care for you. But, those people do exist. Ellie cares for you, I do, and I am completely certain that Joel cares for you too. You deserve to feel loved, cared for and to be happy.”

Tears welled up in your eyes at your sister’s words. You felt truly overwhelmed by everything she told you. Deep down you knew she was right, you were trying to believe her words but you knew it might take a bit of time.

“Thank you.” You whispered, tears flowing down your cheeks as you hugged her side. “You don’t know how much that means to me. It might take some time for me to truly believe everything you said but I want to try.”

Both girls went to envelop you in a warm hug, squeezing your body tight. You felt your body relax in their embrace.

“I love you.” Ellie whispered, at her words you hugged her body tighter.

“I love you too, Ellie bean.” You smiled, tears still in your eyes as you leaned your head against the crown of her head.

And for the first time in a long time you felt like your heart could breathe again.

—

A month passed and you still hadn’t confessed your feelings to the man that’s been consuming your very brain for a year. You still hung out whenever you could, but telling Joel how you felt about him still terrified you. But as time passed, you allowed yourself to believe the words your sister and Ellie told you. It was very freeing.

One thing that didn’t change though was your stubbornness. You are certain you will always hate asking people for help. Like for example, the fact that your shower head was acting up so much you couldn’t take proper showers which made you have to use Emilie’s shower at her place sometimes. Until the shower head actually broke.

That’s why a few days later, you were standing in front of Joel’s door, contemplating if you should really ask him for his help. You bit your lip as you thought about it. Sighing, you told yourself that you should just do it. As you were about to knock, the door opened.

Your eyes widened as you came face to face with Joel. Your cheeks heat up as you lock eyes with him. You know you shouldn't be flustered right now because he is the only one who can help you. And he did tell you that you could always come to him if you needed his help. Or for anything really. But somehow, you still couldn’t help but feel shy around him.

“Sweetheart?” Joel looked at you worriedly.

“H-hi?” You smiled sheepishly. “Am I coming at a bad time?”

“No, ‘course not.” He shook his head slightly, a soft smile curled upon his lips. “Everything alright?”

“I am alright, it’s just,” you trailed off as you looked away shyly. “I think I might need your help.”

Joel closed the door behind him as he kept his gaze on you. He motioned for you to show the way. “Let’s go.”

You giggled as you shook your head light heartedly. “You don’t even know what I need your help for.”

“That’s where you're wrong darlin’. A little birdie told me your shower head is broken.” Joel’s mouth twitched in mild amusement as you just gaped at him.

Oh my god… Emilie.

Your face burned once again. You couldn’t believe that your sister would tell the person you’re desperately in love with about this. You felt embarrassed, knowing that he knew about you struggling. As if he could read your thoughts, “I only know since yesterday, but I wanted you to come to me when you were ready.” He said as he looked at you, a gentle smile on his lips.

“O-okay.” You said, groaning internally at your stuttering. “Anyways, yes. I need your help with fixing my shower. I hope that’s okay?” You asked hesitatingly.

“‘Course it is. Show the way, pretty girl.” He winked, beckoning for you to move along.

He thinks I’m pretty?

—

Joel was standing in your shower as he tried to fix the shower head. He smiled as he threw you a thumbs up.

“Ah, here we go. This should work now—” Joel’s smile faltered as water started unexpectedly spraying out of the shower head. Surprised, it slipped out of his hands, dropping to the floor, the spray pointing up at him, which drenched Joel quickly.

Your eyes widened as you took Joel in. His white shirt and jeans are both drenched and sticking to his body. You could see the outline of everything. Your body turned flush with heat as you continued to stare at him. You couldn’t help but find him so hot, with his shirt clinging to his body. He grumbled as he looked down at the state of his clothes. Eventually you moved into action, “O-oh let me get you a towel!” you blurted out. You quickly made your way to one of your closets in your bedroom, rummaging for some spare towels.

“Y/N stop being such a creep.” You grumbled to yourself, embarrassed that you were staring at him so unabashedly. You’re worried that he might think you’re creepy, staring at him like he was the sexiest man you’ve ever seen. Well, actually, he was the sexiest man to you. But you didn’t want him to think of you as some sort of weirdo. That’s the last thing you want, for him to think you’re creepy. As you found the towels you were still in such a deep inner monologue while you walked back into the bathroom.

“I found the towels—” you gasp, accidentally dropping the towels on the floor as you took Joel in.

The man had taken off his shirt, most likely because he didn’t like the feel of the fabric clinging to his body. He took your breath away. As you once again stared at him you couldn’t help but let your wide eyes wander all over his chest. He was broad, he wasn’t really muscular but he had a solid build. He was strong and large, and soft in the right places. There were some scars littered over his skin here and there, as a result of the years of fighting to try and stay alive. Some hair was scattered over his body, your eyes trailing along his happy trail, eventually disappearing underneath his jeans. You felt yourself ache between your legs as your eyes continued to roam over his form, studying him with so much intensity. You were still admiring him when he spoke up.

“I’m not really nice to look at.” He mumbled.

Your heart ached at his self deprecated words. You couldn’t believe what he said. How could he think of himself so lowly? You thought he was the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. “W-what?” You said as you shook your head frantically.

“I’m not—”

“Joel Miller, you better stop bringing yourself down.” You said sternly, surprising both of you. You sighed loudly as he looked at you with wide eyes, “I’m sorry. I just don’t understand the need for you to put yourself down when you’re far from unattractive.”

Silence fell for a couple of moments. Until Joel exhaled shakily. “You-you think I’m attractive?” The man asked, he seemed so doubtful.

“I thought that was pretty obvious…” you trailed off shyly as you looked at the tiled floor between your two feet. “I mean, it’s pretty obvious to everyone else.” You chuckled nervously.

You heard him grunt softly before hearing his wet, heavy steps, as he slowly made his way to you. Joel grasped your chin gently, tilting your face towards him. You felt your cheeks burn, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to his touch. Your eyes lock with his as he looks at you desperately.

“You think I’m attractive?” He repeated his earlier question more pleadingly.

“I don’t only think you’re attractive… you’re so beautiful. So pretty. Handsome…” you trailed off as you duck your head timidly. “Sexy.” You said apprehensively, before looking away from him. “I think you’re the hottest man I’ve ever seen.”

“I think you’re beautiful as well. The prettiest little thing that has ever walked this earth.” He whispers, his voice coming out a lot deeper. “Words can not describe how beautiful you are. Inside-out.”

You felt your breath catch in your chest as you felt your body tremble at his words. You slowly looked up at him, your eyes wide with curiosity. You couldn’t help but like how he was towering over you. He was so broad, so strong. You felt your face burn, biting your lip and feeling incredibly weak as his gaze stayed locked with yours. You felt light headed at the close proximity. You could barely think straight.

He brought his hands down to your waist, holding your body close to his as he smiled warmly down at you. He whispered your name, breath hitching as he looked at you intently. “Sweetheart…”

You breathed his name softly before his lips connected with yours in a gentle kiss. You gasped in surprise at his actions, but you quickly closed your eyes as he deepened the kiss. Joel’s large hands cupped the side of your face in such a tender way it made your insides melt. Never did you think you’d ever be able to feel his lips on yours. And here he was, kissing you. Your arms wrapped around his back, your fingers digging in his back the action making him grunt. His beard was rough against your soft skin, but was so welcomed. You kissed him back just as deeply, hands stroking up and down his back in a soothing manner.

He held you tighter against his body before slowly pulling away, resting his forehead against yours as both of you breathed heavily against each other's lips.

“I hope that was okay.” He said with a gentle smile. Tears welled up in your eyes as you processed what happened, having a hard time to believe that their kiss really happened. Never in your life were you ever able to keep your heavy emotions in control. Certainly not when you were overwhelmed. His forehead furrowed, concern flashing through his eyes. “What’s wrong Darlin’?”

God, why do I have to get so emotional?

“I am so sorry I just. I feel a bit overwhelmed because I always thought you’d never feel anything for me.” You rambled anxiously and your fingers trembled as they swiped under your eyes. “If you have any feelings for me, that is.”

“Really? I thought it was pretty obvious.” He smiled gently, his hands cupping your cheeks. Softly, he brushed your tears away with his thumbs. “Especially after… you know, kissing you.” He said with a teasing lilt in his voice.

“Yeah maybe…” you shrugged with a giggle, “you do have a point.”

“I do, don’t I?” He smirked playfully.

“You’re so silly.” You rolled your eyes lightheartedly.

“Only with you darlin’,” he winked.

You felt the heat rise in your face once more. You don’t think you could ever get used to his teasing or his flirtatious behaviour.

“So corny…” you snorted as you shook your head with amusement, “you’re lucky I love you.”

You quickly covered your mouth at the realisation that those words were said out loud. Your heartbeat was beating loudly in your chest, as your wide eyes met his. You wonder if he could hear your heart practically beat out of your chest.

His breath hitched in his throat, as his eyes bored into yours. “You mean that?”

Heat overwhelmed your body, feeling as if you’re on fire. Your mouth felt extremely dry, still you tried to swallow, nodding slowly anticipating his next reaction. “I do.”

The molten intensity made you unable to look away as both of you just breathed and stared into each other’s eyes. You felt as if time stopped in that moment, your bodies so close, yet they felt so far. As he held your gaze, he moved his body closer to yours again.

“Joel—” you whispered breathlessly.

He cut you off, kissing you by surprise. Capturing all the words you were about to say. Completely shocked, your whole body froze as you felt his lips claim around yours, hands pulled your face towards his as he kept pressing his lips further, almost to the point it hurt.

All your thoughts overwhelmed your brain, disabling any rational understanding of what was going on. Like a magnet, you felt your body move closer to his, moving your hands around his shoulders as you kissed him back just as fiercely.

You nibbled on his bottom lip lightly, eliciting a moan from him. Slowly, he pulled away from your lips, to press kisses to your cheek. His lips slowly travelled all over your face. You whimper as his mouth moved from your jaw to your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses all over your neck, your hands moved towards his hair, tugging lightly at the roots.

“How long have you been feeling like this?” He questioned, his beard scratching your neck as he continued to kiss your neck. Your body trembled against his as he continued to suck, kiss and lick your neck.

“Hmmm?”

Joel groaned and stopped his actions when you didn’t reply to his question, pulling back to look at your face. You feel his stare, waiting for your response. You hadn’t realised your eyes fell closed as you were enjoying his kisses. Unhurriedly, you opened your eyes, looking right into his.

You swallowed dryly at the intensity behind his eyes, your heart beating madly in your chest. A flare of heat rushed to your cheeks as you decided to tell him the truth. How could you not? When he’s looking at you with so much desperation.

“Like… at least a half year ago?” You answered, your hesitant eyes looking into his own.

Joel groaned loudly, enveloping your lips with his once again. He kissed you with so much passion, giving you everything that had to offer. His mouth moves against yours so hungrily. As he continued to give you long and deep kisses, you felt the heat rising within you. The throbbing between your legs felt unbearable as you whimpered desperately against his lips.

“I love you too baby, so fuckin’ much.” He rasped against your lips.

A gasp left your lips at his words and he deepened the kiss even more, as he quickly took the opportunity to slip his tongue past your parted lips and swirling it around yours. You felt as if your whole body was on fire as you continued to kiss each other ferociously, your fingers raking through his peppered hair.

He grunted as he pushed your body against the wall. His arms wrap around your body, holding your body close against his. You whimpered as his lips travelled from your lips to your throat, nipping at the skin which resulted in you squirming in his hold. Your hands busied themselves with exploring his exposed back, caressing his skin.

He moved his mouth towards your ear, “you have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming about holding you.” He murmured. Joel’s lips travelled towards your shoulder while littering your skin with soft kisses. “Kissing you.” His hands wandered unhurriedly against your back, his hands eventually settled on your lower back, just above your ass. “Touching you.”

“Please,” you whined as you tried chasing his lips again, gripping his strong arms with your hands.

“Tell me what you need, baby girl.” He whispered raspily into your ear. A shiver went down your spine at his words. Joel’s voice carried so much emotion. So much desperation and adoration for you. “I love this baby blue dress on you. Although it’s really killing me right now.” He groans against your neck as his hands finally move to your ass over your frilly summer dress, grabbing a handful of your cheeks.

You felt even more wetness pool between your legs as you thought about the fact that you weren’t wearing any lingerie underneath.

You turned into a bigger whimpering mess as he kept littering your neck, shoulders and face with kisses. You felt one of his legs sliding between your legs, pressing his thigh against your exposed core.

“Fuck,” you moaned.

Joel lifted his head and your eyes caught his, his lips finding yours in a rough kiss, not wasting any time as he slipped his tongue past your lips. The man is wrapped around you completely, a hand caressing your back, the other holding your ass. Your body trembled as Joel started rubbing his thigh against your soaked core. You’ve never wanted someone more in your whole life.

“Joel,” you whined desperately.

“Tell me what you want kitten.” He groaned.

A loud whimper escaped your lips at his words. The pet name turned you on extremely. Your hips moved against his thigh, grinding against the clothed material.

“I want you.”

A string of moans slipped past your lips as Joel moved his head up to lick into your mouth.

“Pleaseee.” You whined against his lips as you rubbed your sensitive pussy against his jeans. “I need you.”

“Fuck, you’re so wet.”

“Ah!” You gasped as he picked you up effortlessly. Quickly, you wrapped your legs around his hips. The both of you continued to kiss each other passionately as Joel carried you to your bedroom. Once he reached your bed he softly placed you down the sheets.

You felt the bed dip before he hovered above you. Joel’s dark eyes stare into yours as his hands move underneath the skirt of your dress, his fingers trailing up your thigh. You felt yourself grow nervous at his touch.

“W-wait.” You whispered.

His movements halt immediately at your words. He looked at you worriedly, “you okay, sweetheart?”

You wanted him so badly and you were extremely wet but you would be lying if you weren’t a bit nervous. Everything seemed more real once his touch moved closer to your intimate parts.

You exhaled deeply. “It’s just… don’t get me wrong, I want this. I literally want you so badly, but I’ve never been with someone intimately.” You said nervously as you waited for his reaction.

“Oh baby girl,” he whispered, looking at you tenderly. “Don’t you worry about that. I will take good care of you.” He smiled as he leaned down to rub his nose gently against yours. “But, we don’t need to do anything if you’re not ready.”

“I am ready, I just don’t want to disappoint you.” You nibbled anxiously at your bottom lip.

“Baby, you could never disappoint me with this. You'll always be a good lover to me. You’re literally perfect. I promise.” Joel smiled gently, looking at you with so much adoration before he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You felt your whole body relax once his lips touched your skin. You trusted him, he was your everything.

Your lips moved to his neck before you placed an open mouthed kiss to his skin. “Please Joel, I need you.” You whispered seductively into his ear.

He groaned loudly before engulfing your lips in a heated kiss. You whimpered against his mouth as his hands started slowly caressing both of your thighs. Your head was clouded with so much lust, you felt so much love for him. Your brain turned quite literally into mush as you continued to kiss each other deeply.

You moved your hips desperately as you moaned against his lips, hoping Joel would get the hint.

“Such a needy kitten.” He chuckled against your lips.

“Only for you.” You whispered as you looked up at him pleadingly. “Please, touch me.”

“I am touching you.” He counters playfully.

“Please.” You whined desperately as you wiggled underneath him.

Moments later his lips pressed against yours again. The kiss got more heated the more you kissed each other. Your hands wander to the back of his head and you pull at some strands softly making him moan into your mouth. One of his hands slowly trailed up your thigh once again. Your whimpers came out more frequently the closer his hand moved to where you needed him the most. Once his fingers come in contact with your heat you mewl loudly.

“Fuck,” he moaned against your lips, you’re certain because he felt how soaked you were for him. “You’re so fuckin’ wet baby girl. All for me?”

You were overwhelmed with warmth, it felt like a hot storm — as he spoke those words. You nodded frantically. You were sopping wet, you managed to speak but your voice is strangled and pathetic. “P-please. T-take off your clothes.”

“And leave you in this dress? Out of question.” He chuckled as he moved the hand that was touching your wetness to your thigh.

“Who said I wanted to stay in this dress?” You said as you raised one of your eyebrows at him.

“Baby—”

“Undress me cowboy.” You smiled as you pulled your bottom lip with your teeth seductively.

“God, you’ll be the death of me.” He groaned loudly.

“My name is Y/N but god sounds good too.” You giggled.

Joel shook his head with an amused grin on his face. His fingertips find the hem of your dress and you sit up a bit. You raised your arms quickly to help him get rid of your baby blue dress.

You felt your body tremble in anticipation, as his eyes roamed all over your naked body, his eyes not being able to stick to one place. You felt your heartbeat picking up as his hands reached for your hips, holding them and pressing your body closer to his. His lips moved to ghost over your neck, slowly moving below your ear. “You’re out of this world. So beautiful.” He whispered into your ear.

His lips then crashed against yours as you gasped openly into his mouth, desire growing, and took it upon yourself to guide his hand back down to your heat. His mouth fell from yours to unleash a heavy groan into your neck at the first slip of his fingers between your wet lips.

It's very, fucking wet, more wet than you'd honestly ever been and certainly more wet than he could've imagined in his wildest dreams.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful sweet girl,” he muttered again in a very raw tone, his voice strained. His lips trail slowly down to your neck, all the way to your chest. Joel breathed in through his nose, you flush harder at his words and shivered when he exhaled warmly through his mouth and onto your nipple. “The prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen.”

That’s all you’ve been given before he wrapped his lips around one nipple, teeth just skimming your skin as he sucked and licked passionately, as he also pushed one of his fingers inside your pussy.

The whine that came out of you only drove Joel to seek out more of those heavenly sounds.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He moaned, as your pussy clenched around his digit. “I need to prepare you as much as I can for my cock.”

Your whines became louder as you felt the pleasure overwhelm you. His fingers are so much bigger than yours, one of his fingers is more pleasurable than any of your fingers.

His tongue began licking, long licks with the flat of his tongue over your hard nipple as his other hand kept pumping his finger in and out of you at a leisurely pace.

You whined as your core started clenching around his finger, begging for more. Instinctively you began moving your hips, grinding against his hand, as he groaned against your skin. His lips left your breast with a wet pop and he looked at you intensely as he continued to fuck you with his finger. You were panting heavily, barely able to think straight as he slowly slipped another finger inside you. He moved his face back to meet yours, engulfing you in a passionate kiss, swallowing all your little mewls.

“Good girl, you’re doing so well for me.” He panted against your lips.

You bucked your hips up towards his hand in response, silently begging for more. He noticed and slipped a third finger in, moving them slowly at first as your tight pussy tried to adjust to the addition. Little whimpers left your lips as he fucks you slowly with his fingers. You felt so full, you can’t help but imagine him fucking you with his cock, you’re quite certain he’s massive. His pace eventually speeds up as you move your hips along with his movements. His lips moved back to kiss you, whining against his mouth. Your hands clutched the bed sheets as you moved along with the pace of his fingers, feeling him curl them and spreading them.

“That feels good doesn't it baby? You like it when I play with your little pussy? You like me fucking you with my fingers?" Joel moaned and his thumb connected with your clit, rubbing it at the same pace as he fucked you with his fingers. You bucked your hips and nodded as you moaned. "Use your words kitten," he taunts.

“Fuck, yes. Yes, please oh my god. Joel, please.” You writhed against the sheets as you whimpered. “Please keep calling me that.” You bit your lip as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“You’re such a good kitty for me,” he said, a smug smirk playing on his face. You were impressed how easy it was for this man above you to turn you on and make a mess of you.

Joel leans his head back down, trapping your lips in yet another heated kiss. You felt your legs spread even more open for him as you felt yourself get close to your first orgasm of the night. His tongue slipped into your mouth after another gasp fell from your lips. You couldn’t help but moan, whine and whimper as he continued to pleasure you. Your hands wandered to the back of his head pulling at hair softly making him moan into your mouth.

“Fuck, I need you so bad.” He groaned as his thumb applied more pressure on your little nub. He curled his fingers forward with every penetration until your thighs shook.

“I need you more.” You whimpered as your body trembled underneath his.

His eyes stared into yours, lust and love written all over them. When he fastened his motions inside you, you moaned again and squeezed your eyes shut. A burning intense feeling, a tight coil in your lower abdomen made your back arch beneath him.

“Open your eyes for me, my baby.”

You opened your eyes slowly, looking straight into his eyes. His intense gaze was what it took for you to come undone. The hot feeling spread all over your body, your body tingled, your hips moving at their own accord against Joel’s hand.

“You’re doing so well for me angel,” He said proudly as his fingers slowed down, slipping out of you to rub your slit softly, still helping you ride out your orgasm.

As you came back to your senses, you felt his fingers slip away from your heat. You felt your pussy clench around nothing every now and then and were dripping down the sheets, which made you whimper helplessly. You needed him so bad. And now. Joel climbed off the bed, making quick work to remove all of his clothing. You were still in a daze, closing your eyes for a minute. Moments later you felt the bed dip.

You felt your legs being spread further apart with his strong hands. A loud broken moan left your lips at the feel of his mouth meeting your soaking wet pussy. He dove between your legs, licking a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dipping his tongue into your entrance before he travelled up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet muscle and sucking your button into his mouth.

You practically screamed at his actions, arching your back slightly off the bed once again. You felt your body trembling terribly. You needed more. You tried to grind your wetness slowly against his lips as your body continued to shake.

Strong arms were suddenly locked around your thighs, securing your hips with his biceps, holding you still despite your attempts to grind your pussy against his lips.

“You taste so good, baby girl. I could eat this pussy all day.”

You felt heat overwhelm your senses more as you felt Joel chuckle against your heat. His tongue was lapping sloppily at your lower lips. Squeaky, senseless noises came out from your throat. You were squirming, it was so good you could barely even figure out what he was doing with his tongue.

“Fuck, Joel baby, oh my goooood” you cried out loud. You were certain that if people walked outside your house that they would have heard you by now. He sucked lazily at your clit while he moved to slip two fingers into you. Joel eventually sucked harder on your clit, still occasionally swirling his tongue around your little bud while moving his fingers inside you a bit faster. You kept chanting his name between moans as you now hold onto his hair with both of your hands.

“Please, I’m so cloooooose.” You whined.

As Joel sucked your clit harder, you gasped loudly as you felt your whole body trembling even more and then you felt your body tense as you came against his mouth. Your whole mind felt like exploding and all you could see were stars. You felt truly overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and emotions you were experiencing. Your body continued to tremble as you felt yourself come down from your high.

You felt Joel’s tongue still licking up your pussy as he retreats his fingers from your pulsing hole. His mouth felt heavenly, but you whined at the sensitivity. He moaned as he licked against your tight hole, licking up your release, his tongue prodding your entrance.

“T-too much.” You whimpered at the overstimulation.

Joel ignored your pleads, moaning against your heat as he continued to eat you out. The man you love so much that was between your legs kept sliding his tongue up and down your sensitive slit. Your little mewls and other noises spur him on, to move his lips back up to your clit. He sucked the nub softly between his lips. You were grinding your hips against his face as moans kept spilling off your lips. This time he didn’t hold you back from fucking his face. Eventually he leaned down, slipping his tongue into your entrance, he curled the muscle upward to brush your walls, the sight of your fingers bunching the fabric of the sheets in a tight grip encouraging him to do it again.

You were a mess of his name, you chanted his name over and over again. Your hips moved against his face as you continued to whimper and moan breathlessly underneath him. Writhing below him, you felt him lick up and press against a sensitive spot inside that had you seeing stars, while your hips bucked against his face uncontrollably. Defiance and greed consumes your thoughts, your fingers once again gripped onto his peppered hair rather harshly and hips pushed against his face to shove his tongue deeper into your hole.

“Ahhh Joeeeeel—” you drag out. You were really so close, you just needed one more little push.

“Come for me kitten,” he whispered against you, before plunging his tongue back inside you as his thumb came up to press against your little bundle of nerves. That does it, your dam broke down as you came against his mouth as your whole body wouldn’t stop trembling. You came with a loud whine, your hips stuttering as your vision turned white. You cry out his name, your voice unable to remain steady. Your fingers were tightly woven through Joel’s hair and your hips pushed so far against his face, you almost thought you were suffocating him.

“You’re always doing so good for me baby, I love you so much my sweetheart.” Joel whispered against you. As you slowly came down to reality again and you tried to catch your breath, you heard him praising you softly while he continued to lap at your wetness gently, until you whined because the overstimulation was getting too much for you. You Nudged your leg against his face as you tried to squirm away from him, Joel’s mouth finally detached from your heat.

He quickly licked the wetness off his lips and the places he could reach before he crawled up to you with a smile, to kiss you deeply, cupping your face in his hands. You moaned at the taste of yourself against his tongue, your eyes fluttering against his skin while you kiss, his wet beard against your face, your arms wrapped around him to pull his body closer against yours. You sighed, against his mouth, you felt yourself melt in his embrace already. You can feel his soft mouth smiling against yours, as the kiss gets more heated.

Soon your hands start to grip his body tighter against yours, your legs tangling together. It's like you're both starved, this insatiable hunger for each other.

You couldn’t help but roll your hips against his to feel his cock. It turned slick as you kept grinding yourself against him, and he had no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting it into your clit.

“Oh, fuck” Joel rasped, and it was because he reached down and grasped himself to line up between your lips and slide. He kept rubbing the head of his cock from your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you squirm underneath him, and back down. He loved the sounds you made as he spread his precum around your slit, where you are still dripping for him.

You gasped openly into his mouth, desire growing quickly. You quickly realised by the way he felt while he rubbed against you that he was huge. You were still so wet, but the thought of him finally entering you with his big cock made you wetter. Joel swallowed your whines with his lips against yours, hips rolling against yours. He kissed you full with fervour, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.

You were trembling against him, filled with anticipation. His broad body covered your body with his. Loving how bigger and taller he was than you. You writhed against him, wishing he was just in you already and filling you up and making you see white.

“Are you ready for me darlin’?” He whispered as he looked deep into your eyes. “Let me know if you want me to stop and I will.” He promised.

You bit your lip and nodded, too shy and excited to talk, as you rubbed your pussy against his dick.

“Fuck,” he grunted, “I need you to use your words kitty.”

“Yes,” you whispered breathlessly.

“I’ll try to go slow at first, okay, sweetheart?” He said before leaning back down to kiss your lips again, he reached down and grasped himself to line up between your lips and slide. He rubbed the tip firmly over your swollen clit then moved down to your wet tight hole and your mind was all over the place.

“P-please J-Joel…” you stuttered as your body trembled even more underneath him.

He rubbed himself up and down your slit for a while longer before one of his hands lean down to spread your outer lips sliding his dick teasingly around your core. You arched your back slightly and whimpered loudly out of frustration.

The moment you want to beg him again he leaned down to line it up with your entrance. Your legs trembled underneath him, a mix of nerves and excitement. Joel slid the tip in so slowly it was agonising. Your lips part with a gasp. He was careful, like he was afraid you might break. You let out a long broken whine as he gradually pushed more of him inside you. You whined at the stretch of him. He was so big. You thought big was an understatement, he’s huge. Your tight pussy clenched around him as it tried to accommodate his massive girth. Joel continued to push more of his cock inside you. He leaned down to kiss your lips gently as he moved more inside, hoping the sweetness of the embrace will soften the sting.

His hips stilled once he heard you gasp loudly. “So full…”

“Do you think you can handle more?” He smiled tenderly as he looked down at you.

“T-t-there’s m-more?” You stammered with wide eyes.

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly.

“Please,” You closed your eyes and whined as you nodded. You gripped the bed sheets between your fingers as you begged him for more.

“Good girl,” he groaned softly. You thought there wasn’t a possibility to get more wet but as he said those words you felt your heat get sopping wet. Your pussy continued to pulse and clench around his cock as he moved deeper inside you.

Once he bottomed out, you felt his tip kiss your cervix. Joel let his body rest against yours as he allowed you to adjust to his size. You felt so full, as if he was made for you, and only you. The feeling of him filling you up so completely had you seeing stars and digging your fingernails into his shoulders.You felt one of his hands finding your hand, lacing them with yours as the other one reached up to your face.

His breathing was heavy as you squeezed his cock repeatedly. Small whimpers left your lips as you squirm underneath him.

You needed more.

You slowly opened your eyes to look up at him with pleading eyes. “Please, Joel.”

“My sweet girl needs me to move?” He asked teasingly, as he cocked his head to the side.

“Yes, please.” You begged as your pussy clenched around his thickness rather hard which made him moan. “I need you to fuck me so bad.”

He licked his lips before he nodded quietly and started moving slow and deep, one hand reached down to play with your clit, while the other held your hand tightly. The sting was hurting for a while, but it easily morphed into a more pleasurable feeling as he moved against you. You’re so overstimulated from all your previous orgasms that the sensation he was giving you is mixed between pain and pleasure.

He grunted as he dropped his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin just below it.

“Such a tight pussy,” he groaned.

The angle was so good, but when his pace picked up he finally leaned down to wrap his arms around you, the action made you gasp and you grab at the sheets around you, to fuck you harder and faster.

“You’re taking me so well, baby. Doing so so, good for me. Y-you’re so perfect.” He whispered as he nuzzled his face against your neck.

You whimpered as his lips moved back up to your lips, enveloping them in a passionate kiss. At a certain point you felt the end of his strokes slide into a pressure point in your core that has you clenching like a vise around his dick. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the pleasure he was providing you. A loud noise like nothing you’ve ever made escaped your throat, a strange cry of his name.

“Feeling good sweetheart?” He grunted, a small smirk forming on his lips.

His mouth covered your own instead as he swallowed your mewls, you could feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulled tight, tight, tighter. His lips slid away from yours, wet and swollen and his breathing harsh as he tried to suck in air again, and everything was too much. It was just too much for you to handle.

He quickened his pace, his hips snapped up to yours to a fast tempo. “This pussy was made for this cock, isn’t it, baby girl?”

His hands couldn’t get enough of you, sliding around your hips and lower back, wanting to feel all of you, touch you everywhere. You moaned at the feeling of his speed, your fourth? orgasm of the night, coming so close. Your arms wrapped around him and your nails dig in his back making him groan. The feeling of the coil tightening in your belly, tingling down to your legs, ready to snap at any moment.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, cursing under his breath when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “You look so pretty when you’re stretched around my cock, Christ I bet you’d look so pretty full of my cum too.”

“Please…” you moaned as you thought about him filling you up. “Please Joel, fill this pussy up.”

He groaned as he buried his face into your neck as he fucked into you, making the whole bed rattle at his force.

“You want to cum sweetheart?”

You nodded frantically at his words with your eyes closed as you bit your lip harshly. He brought one of his hands down, rubbing your clit with enough pressure to ensure you’d cum.

“F-fuck fuuuck, Joel-Joel, oh my god. I’m going to—!”

“Cum for me, my pretty angel. Let yourself go. Cum all over me.” He moaned against your ear.

Your whole body trembled as you came with a loud cry, your body squirming underneath his as you held his body closer to yours, your nails digging in his back, scratching it. That time around, the orgasm felt more intense than the others, you were feeling so overwhelmed by the pleasure. Joel groaned in your ear as your walls spasmed and pulsed around his cock, begging him to cum inside, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.

“Fuck,“ he moaned, pushing himself up as he thrust deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. “You want me to fill this pussy up? Until it’s all full and messy?”

You nodded vigorously at his words, whining even more at the sensitivity. Your pussy squeezed around his cock in anticipation. “Please…”

He groaned loudly, as he cummed inside you. The warmth of his seed filled you up and spread within your walls. You whimpered at the feel of his cum dripping out of you.

Once both of you caught your breaths, Joel leaned his forehead against yours before kissing you tenderly.

“Please… stay.” You moaned softly.

“Of course baby,” he whispered before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Want you to stay inside.” You whimpered as your pussy clenched around him.

Joel groaned, wrapping his arms around you before rolling both of you onto your sides. “anythin’ for you, baby.”

“I love you Joel.” You nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck, enjoying his strong hold on you.

“I love you too sweetheart. You’re everythin’ to me.”

Both of you continued to caress each other’s bodies, whispering sweet nothings, kissing and holding each other until you both fell into a slumber.

Joel caught your heart, promising to hold onto it forever.

[allwaswell16]

A fic rec of One Direction fics where Louis is a villain of some sort as requested in an ask I can no longer find oof Hope you see this rec whoever asked for it! If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

- Louis/Harry -

💀 Wanted Most by BornOnABeach

(E, 156k, thief Louis) Louis Tomlinson is a thief, and a damn good one at that. Most have heard of him. Most don't understand him. And Harry Styles is the FBI agent who can never seem to catch him.

💀 Cover Me with Jewels by ShatteredGlassHouse / @larryislove

(E, 55k, thief Louis) the one where Louis is a jewel thief and dating Harry Styles, the heir to a designer jewellery business empire, but Louis worries Harry will discover him, so he disappears for five years. 

💀 Tied Down by HamPalpert

(E, 48k, drug dealer Louis) The most interesting case in Liam and Niall's careers falls directly into their laps, courtesy of an epic fuck-up of one Harry Styles, partner to the almost-infamous drug dealer Louis Tomlinson. 

💀 I'll Throw Away My Faith (Just To Keep You Safe) by @theboyfriendstagram

(E, 42k, assassin Louis) AU. Harry Styles is an MI6 agent on a mission to find out who’s planning on killing the Prime Minister. Louis Tomlinson is a wanted professional assassin, hired by the MI6 to kill whoever wants to kill the Prime Minister.

💀 Please, Deceive Me by Larringiscaring

(E, 42k, thief Louis) Louis robs casino's with his ex-boyfriend, and Harry trusts a criminal a little more than he should

💀 no pressure, no diamonds by @karamelised

(E, 42k, thief Louis) Louis is a thief, Harry a grifter. They are thrown together for a huge diamond heist in Paris, where their past soon catches up to them.

💀 Buried Like Treasure by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(E, 40k, thief Louis) Semi-retired thief Louis Tomlinson has been pulled in for one last job: steal a painting from an uninhabited mansion. Neither one of them expects a natural disaster.

💀 The Risen (series) by @creamcoffeelou

(E, 28k, cult au) In search of the next breaking story, Harry goes off to do something no one else has been able to do: get the scoop on Louis Tomlinson and his devoted group of followers.

💀 For You, I Will (I Don't Believe in Magic, but) by theweightofmywords / @lil0

(E, 17k, criminal Louis) Louis leads two lives, when all he wants is a simple one with Harry.

💀 focal point by rainbowsandgucci

(M, 8k, thief Louis) By the time you read this, I’ll be gone, so don’t bother looking. Last night was lovely, Harry, I’m sure you agree. Sorry to run, but that’s just how life works sometimes, I’m sure you understand. Don’t forget about me. xx P.S. Thanks for the money

💀 Daisy by Jennifer_Kaid / @poetsreprieve

(E, 3k, mob au) An assassin who lurks in shadows, who kills with a detachment towards his victims, their death always displayed artfully for anyone who stumbles upon the corpse once his work is done.

💀 Stealing My Trust by Phillipa19

(E, 3k, organized crime) Harry hates the danger Louis' 'job' puts him in, but no one ever said being in love with a criminal would be easy.

💀 we're swimming with the sharks until we drown by velvetnoodle

(T, 3k, thief Louis) There’s only one thing that makes Harry’s job on the casino floor bearable, and that’s a chance to grab the attention of the mysterious man who frequents the establishment often.

💀 How to Catch a Christmas Tree by Anonymous

(E, 2k, omegaverse) It's two days until Christmas and Harry needs a Christmas tree.

💀 Marionette by Anonymous

(E, 2k, witch Louis) Harry is a vampire on the hunt. He doesn’t know that he’s not the top of the food chain.

💀 The shape I've made you into by flamboyo / @riverswater

(M, 1k, established relationship) "Sometimes, I wish you'd hit me."

💀 Twenty-Eight by @beardyboyzx

(M, 1k, spy au) Agent Harry Styles has finally caught his nemesis, but there's a knot in the plot he's not ready to detangle.

- Rare Pairs -

💀 To Catch a Thief by StormDancer

(E, 49k, Zayn/Louis) There are some rules even thieves have trouble breaking. Marriage vows, for instance.

[cambria-writes]

hello! thank you for holding on for so long!!

this isn't really the 3k words that i otherwise would have wanted it to be, but leaving this chapter off where i did felt a lot better and a lot less forced. and this also means there's also only 1 or 2 more chapters to go before we conclude this whole story! wild to think that i've been at it for almost 8 years. oof.

pairing: patrick jane x named reader word count: 2,559 rating: E for explicit content warnings: SMUT, fem reader, soft dom!jane, sir kink, choking, very brief mating press (i think?), it's not soft sex but it's also not rough rough, multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare, we've switched from Jane to Patrick, look at us being on a first name basis, i think that's all

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𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕰𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓: ℜ𝔢𝔰𝔭𝔦𝔱𝔢

Patrick runs his hand, finger splayed, up your chest. Between your breasts. Its ascent stops when his fingers rest just at the base of your neck. You can’t help the shiver that runs through your body, makes your spine arch and your scalp tingle. Your exhale stutters. Eyes unfocused, mind elsewhere, your body tenses when you feel him whisper in your ear. 

“Don’t forget to breathe.”

If you had even half an ounce of lucidity left, you would have scoffed. Called him a smartass, know-it-all asshole. Just to deflect, if nothing else. 

But the breath that warms the side of your neck is immediately overshadowed by the feeling of his cock notching at your entrance. The fingers at the base of your throat twitch, dig in a little. It’s the only warning you have before Patrick thrusts forward, hilts himself inside you in once swift movement. 

“Breathe,” he repeats, gasps into your ear, and you can’t be bothered. The tip of him already kisses your cervix and you’re seeing stars. There’s a supernova in your stomach, now, and all it does is want. 

You don’t realize your arms have reached out to grab at Patrick until he laughs—more of an amused, harsh exhale. Your fingers dig into his ribs, his shoulders. You cant your hips up, trying to—you don’t know. You nearly choke when you swallow before trying to speak.

“Mmuh—fuck,” you sigh, unable to get the words out. Not that it seems to matter much; when the muscles in your back begin to release some of their tension, Jane pulls out of you. Slowly, specifically to play with you, you think. 

And then rams back in just as suddenly, and with just as much force, as the first thrust. Throw your head back and bring a hand up to your mouth to quiet yourself. The hand at your collarbones immediately pries your hand away, trapping it by your head.

The whine that leaves you is almost embarrassing; would be, if Patrick didn’t pull back to look down at you. And, god, fuck—the expression on his face is something so proudly predatory that you don’t think you could find it in yourself to be self conscious even if you tried. 

“You’re going to let me hear you,” he declares, and you resent how firm his voice sounds. You flex your fingers by your head and nod. 

Patrick’s voice is almost condescending when he speaks. 

“Come on,” he says, cajoling, leaning it to leave open mouthed kisses along your jaw. “You can do better than that.”

“Sir,” you hurry to spit out, the hand that isn’t trap beneath one of his making its way down from his shoulder to grasp at his—fuck, has he always been this stacked?—at his bicep. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Wasn’t so hard,” he breathes out, and pulls back out of you before setting a pace that, with anyone else, would have been thoughtlessly brutal.

But, fuck, you think maybe you needed this. Let the whines and moans fly out of your throat, try to do your best impression of a songbird. The louder you are, the more consistent, the looser Jane’s grip on your restrained wrist until he lets it go altogether. You don’t risk moving your arm at all.

Instead, Patrick pulls himself up, giving a particularly harsh thrust that makes your next breath catch. He reaches under your knees, moves his arms until your legs rest in the bends of his elbows. Leans forward and presses into you almost uncomfortably to lick back into your mouth. 

Like this, you swear you can feel him up in your throat. Can’t help but whine and try to grind yourself up into him, get him deeper, somehow. Or just to move.

Whether Patrick gets the point or he’s simply sated his desire to defile your mouth, you feel like you can finally breathe again when he pulls back off of you. He doesn’t move from inside you, however. And you’re already trying to form some kind of grievance, but it trails off into a breathy moan when he offers a shallow thrust.

“You’re still thinking too much,” Patrick breathes, the grit in his voice enough to make you clench around him. He pulls out, just a bit, and shrugs your legs up onto his shoulders. 

Shallow though it may be, the next thrust almost feels too deep. Toeing that fine silver lining between pain and incomprehensible pleasure. Thinking too much? You’re not sure there’s a single coherent thought left in our mind.

Patrick sets a slow pace, this time, but the depth he reaches inside of you makes that irrelevant. Every thrust, at the angle he’s keeping you at, has his cock rubbing up against the spot on your upper wall, and almost unkindly knocking against your cervix. You barely register his right hand smoothing down your thigh before you feel warm fingers brushing against your clit. 

“Fuck, please,” you beg, sweetly enough, you hope, back arching and doing your best to match and bear down on his thrusts. “Sir, please sir,” you correct yourself quickly, as soon as you feel his fingers still.

Patrick throws his head back and shakes the hair from his eyes. God, he’s gorgeous.

“Don’t worry,” he groans when he looks back down at you. Like the sight of you is making you lose his mind. You hope so. You don’t know you have a mind left to lose. It seems only fair. “I’ve got you.”

He hilts himself in you in a gentle thrust, almost like an afterthought. You’re so focused on how full you are that you don’t… you don’t really think about what it means that his hands slide down to your ass. Only a zip of thrill when you see him pull a knee up on the side of the bed, before you’re unceremoniously shoved further up on the bed. 

Patrick lets your legs fall off his shoulders and leans into you, bringing one hand back up to your neck while the other makes its way back down. The hand at your neck squeezes; you can breathe fine, but there’s a strange fuzziness that slowly starts to creep in. He pulls and and thrusts back in just as quickly, and eases the pressure of his fingers on the way in.

The sensation is strange, almost overwhelming, like all the blood’s rushing back to your head and makes everything sharper, clearer, just enough to feel him all the way up inside you in a burst of hyper awareness.

You’ve forgotten to breathe. He doesn’t say anything about it this time. Just smirks, in a way that makes something curl in your gut, almost sing. 

“There you go,” Patrick groans, hand at your neck leaving its place for a moment to caress your cheek. When it returns to your neck, he squeezes again. “Double tap to stop.”

Through the haze, you don’t immediately realize there’s an answer expected from you. Your tongue feels too thick in your mouth and your mind can’t make sense of the words that you’re trying to say. You hum, instead, trailing off into a whine, and nod your head as best you can. Double tapping his wrist but wrapping your hand around it. I understand, you try to say, I understand, please don’t stop.

He rests his forehead against yours for a second, eases the grip on your throat for a second. And then the pressure is back, and he’s started another brutal pace. Not as deep as before, but that’s probably a blessing. Every few thrusts, he loosens his grip on you for a bit. Every time it’s like it brings you a bit closer to the edge, and every time he keeps you there until the next time.

It’s maddening. 

The fingers at your clit speed up, and it only takes one more round of squeeze-and-release before you’re coming, loudly, nearly sobbing, back arching and hands weaving themselves through Patrick’s hair and pulling him down, in, closer, hips gyrating uncontrollably. 

He fucks you clean through it. Doesn’t stop or even so much as slow, keeps your nerves firing and your toes curled.

“One more,” Patrick pants, leans over to brace a forearm next to your head while the other draws slow circles around, and over, your clit. “Give me one more.” 

“Mhm,” you whine, nod, hips twitching. “Come inside me, please,” you rush to add, managing to bring your knees up to bracket his hips. 

He groans and throws his head back again, and maybe later you’ll remember with a spark of pride how his own hips stuttered in their determined rhythm.

“Alright, since you asked so nicely,” he replied, punctuating his sentence with particularly sharp thrusts before clearly focusing on his own climax.

Which isn’t to say the fingers at your clit slow; they speed up, rushed and sloppier and rougher. But with how every nerve ending is firing like it’s the fourth of July, it doesn’t take long. The second time you come isn’t as much of a flash bang, but feels like being pulled down under a wave you’ve just barely been managing to surf the edge of. 

The way Patrick groans when he comes—a gravelly, drawn-out thing—makes your body tense. He keeps himself deep inside of you, grinds himself there, before settling with an exhale. You slump back into the bed, limp, letting your hands fall from his hair. 

He brushes the now-damp hair from your forehead. You immediately turn your face into his hand. 

“You alright?” Patrick whispers, rubbing a thumb along your cheekbone. 

“Mmh,” you hum at first, trying to will your heavy eyelids open. “‘M fine. Thank you sir,” you mumble, trying to get his hand on your cheek again.

Instead, Jane gently pats your cheek, despite your protests. 

“Come on,” he says, and you can’t help but preen with how out of breath he sounds. “Yes, you can boast all you want later. Let’s get you to the bathroom.”

You moan and whine and complain, but he still convinces you to scoot up to the edge of the bed and stand on wobbly legs. He grabs your—his, technically—shirt off the floor and offers it to you. Now that your brain is slowly coming back online, you’re not sure how to feel about how… considerate that is.

You take a second to look at the shirt. Look down at your chest, bring a hand up to let fingers trail from your neck to your collarbone.

“No,” you say quietly, letting your hand fall. “I’m good.” 

And, of course, the first step you take towards the bathroom finds you stumbling and nearly hitting the ground. 

“A bit too fine?” Patrick chuckles, taking your hand in his to offer some of the balance you were clearly lacking. 

“I thought we said we were leaving the boasting for late,” you grumble under your breath, and after a few nervous but aided steps, you make it the rest of the distance unassisted. 

“I said you could boast later,” Patrick corrects. There’s a snarky reply that dies in your throat when you turn around. 

Patrick Jane was clearly carved on mount Olympus and sent to the mortal realm to torment  you, specifically. Especially when he puts his hands on his hips, hair wild and looking at you like he might be thinking the same thing. 

“...right, bathroom. I’ll just…” You slink in and quickly, but gently, close the door behind you.

Dear god.

What the fuck.

You take advantage of the en-suite bathroom to take a shower, once you’re done with your business. The hot water feels amazing. You have no idea what kind of soap and shampoo Patrick keeps in here, but they smell divine and leave both your hair and skin feeling clean and soft. Once you’ve wrapped yourself up in the largest, fluffiest towel you’ve probably ever seen and felt in your life, you make your way back out into the guest bedroom.

While Patrick isn’t there—and you do your best not to let your heart sink too low—there is the beginnings of the heavenly smell of fresh coffee. You stop yourself halfway to the bedroom door when you notice something on the bed, freshly made, that wasn’t there before. 

It’s just a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt from a university you haven’t heard of but… you don’t think about the thoughtfulness. You slip into the loaned clothes and softly pad out of the bedroom and do your best to follow your nose. The open plan of the entire house helps; even you couldn’t get lost looking for the kitchen.

Patrick’s humming a soft tune that stays just outside of memorable reach. You feel like you float to the kitchen island, perch yourself on a seat there. He’s clearly heard you; the humming’s a bit louder. And, unless you’re mistaken, it seems like he’s deliberately trying to show off while flipping… god you hope those are pancakes. 

You rest your elbows on the island and rest your chin in your hands. The whole place is so bright, white-gold light illuminating everything. He looks just as divine now as he did earlier, glowing hair and flexing muscles and calm, patient movement. You don’t feel bad about ogling, not when someone’s so clearly and deliberately trying to put on a show for you.

You watch the muscles in his back shift and move when he turns around. It takes a second to register that Patrick’s holding a plate out for you, laden with—thank god—pancakes, fresh cut strawberries and bacon you’re fairly sure is vegan judging by the smell.

Not like you care. Food is food, and with a plate of food being courteously being held out for you, you finally realize you are ravenous. 

“Fuck, thank you,” you rush to say, quickly grabbing the plate and the fork offered right after. You feel silly, for a second, for having zoned out for a second. But looking up at Patrick, he seems pretty… content. You couldn’t even say he looks particularly pleased with himself. Not in that cocky way you’re used to seeing in public. Or when he’s… blatantly trying to seduce you.

No, you figure he probably looks a lot like you do right now. Relaxed, loose. Content. 

“Eat up,” Patrick says, nudging your shoulder with his as he takes a seat next to you at the island. When he reaches forward and across you is when you realize there has, in fact, been a fresh mug of coffee waiting for you. Offer a quick apology before reaching for the handle.

The first sip is perfect. Literally perfect. You’ve had boyfriends and actually have long time, childhood friends that still don’t know how you take your coffee. With more than a second of thought, you suppose it’s probably reasonable for the professional cold reader to know how you like your coffee.

It still feels… it’s a brand of attentive that you haven’t experienced often.

Which is why, when Patrick’s hand just very casually ends up resting halfway up your thigh, you jolt enough to nearly spill the perfect coffee all over yourself. He chuckles—something that you think sounds a bit more suggestive than maybe you thought he meant for it too—

“We’ll work on that later.”

Oh. Okay. Maybe just as suggestive as he intended, then.

𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

@fucklife-or-me @mamacakeishereforfun @newavenger @yearningforsappho @piper570 @rikuisthesweetestboy @berryblink @loonylovegood1 @clumsycopy @bigratbitchsworld @natsukee

hopefully that's everyone i had to go through my replies and comments to be sure. some didn't pull anything up but hopefully this gets to the people who wanted it!!

[yourstingrey]

do you think you could write a luke x y/n friends to lovers based on too sweet by hozier? Maybe have it be a little angsty like someone tells him he’s not good enough and so he distances himself. I really love your writing and feel like you would write it beautifully.

Too Sweet Pt.1

Thank you so much for this request I loved this idea its so cutie im so sorry it took so long for me to make but hopefully Ive done it justice this one is a bit short but I kinda reallyyyyy wanted to put it into separate parts (which i swear wont take as long but it will be longer cus i gotta get that juicy angst in better!!!)

Hot.

That's all I felt as I was training, That's all I ever feel when I train with Luke. Not because he’s insanely hot himself but he has to put his all into everything even if I ask for practice with sparing. I'm crouched down a bit less like a fighter's stance as Luke has already got me winded but I try to hold up my tough gaze as he stands in front of me mirroring my stance except he's not tired at all it looks like he has even lifted a finger but this is our third go and unsurprisingly he's won every time so far. “Y/N/N are you sure you don't wanna give up? I'm not sure I can watch your face get all sad when you lose again.” He’s smirking as he talks and for a second he puts his hand on his chest to fain sadness about me. In that split second, I take the opportunity to try to tackle him to the ground. 

He lets out a surprised Oof before he hits the ground I try to grab his hands to pin them down “I'm not so sure Luke I think you be pulling your sore loser face” Of course I didn't learn from Luke as my talking got me too distracted as Luke flips us over and now he's pinning me down into the dirt. He simply smirks and does a little tilt of his head pretty much signaling id lost. He stood before holding out his hand for me to get up which I gladly took from him. “Luke, I asked for practice. I thought you were going to go a little easy… I'm gonna have to sleep early or I'm gonna be so sore.”  Discomfort on my face as I brush the dirt off my shorts and shirt “About that…” Luke says with a certain tone I've learned means ‘I'm gonna try really hard to convince you to do something you're really not gonna wanna do’ “Oh god what is it, Luke…?” A mischievous look spread across his face “Apollo kids are having a small lake party tonight and I was thinking I could take you” I let out a taut laugh before squinting my eyes playfully at him “Weren't you already out partying last night! Chris was telling me all about it!” I watched his face flush a bit as he stood there watching me talk before stammering his words “Wait- when did you see Chris today I wasn't with you??” I narrow my eyes at him a bit “This morning I went on a walk and I ran into him yknow you're not denying it soooo i'm right you did go out…?”

He gets up from leaning against a pillar to come put his arm around my shoulders and start walking out of the arena “Well yes.. But! I wasn't hanging out with my best friend so that's why I'm telling you that you gotta come out this time!” 

“Luke you're always out so much lately don't you think YOU especially should rest, oh so great swordsman!” I clasp my hands to my chest whilst looking up through my lashes at him. He lets out something between a laugh and a scoff “You know that I do this all the time you're the one who always stays cooped inside her cabin almost all day usually!” Our steps absentmindedly got slower as we approached my cabin “I don't know Luke… I promised I was going to hang out with my siblings tomorrow and if I party with you I might forget or sleep in'' He opened his mouth to rebuttal me but I quickly cut him off “And andddd! You know I don't like to drink. I'm too nervous about being caught!” 

We finally got to my cabin but I stood outside because I knew Luke wouldn't be satisfied unless I let him try to convince me one last time. “For one, You see your siblings every day you live with them. Plus I know some of your siblings are coming tonight anyway!” I go to open my mouth ready to shut him down already but before I had the chance Luke swiftly made sure to playfully cover my mouth with his hand before tsking at me and putting his finger to his lips shushing me “Ahem as I was saying YN, I'll be with you the whole time you can rely on me the whole time, just go this once for me and if you hate it I'll never force you to come again!” 

He lowered his hand from his mouth to reveal my lips in an exaggerated frown. He let out a loud laugh before huffing out what sounded like ‘Oh c'mon now’ but it fell on deaf ears as his fingers went to my sides to get me to let out a laugh (well more than just one) I laughed so hard at his relentless tickles hunching myself onto him before we heard the laughs of my sibling behind and Luke turned back into a stoic statue practically I let my laughter die awkwardly as he separated from me. Rocking back and forth on my heels I look back at him “Well okay I guess I'll think about it… but this isn't a yes okay!!” He let out a small chuckle before slowly starting to walk backwards “I’ll see you later tonight” he flipped around completely to start walking away I let out a small laugh turning away to walk to my cabin door before something dawned on me, I flip around and yell back out to him “Wait Luke how will I know where to go!!” He turns back to me putting his hands behind his head with a sort of arrogant smirk on his face 

“Don't worry about it, I am a messenger aren't I?” 

[manonssunset]

That clip of Lara saying she's gonna get a full sleeve on her arm keeps putting thoughts in my head about her meeting a tattoo artist reader who she ends up going to almost every time she wants new ink.

They'll spend a lot of time together planning the design she wants. As they get more comfortable with each other, a lot of that planning happens after they've gone out to eat on totally platonic, definitely professional, lowkey flirty '''friend''' dates.

When they finally get into the sessions, on Lara's request, reader does house visits for her (which they usually never do).

The tension between them slowly builds session after session. Reader is especially attentive and caring with her, and they try to stay as professional as possible. Meanwhile Lara is just--- trying to breathe and resist jumping their bones every time she feels reader's hands against her skin.

The last session somehow ends up being less than professionally intimate, with Lara on reader's lap as they finish the upper section of the tattoo by her shoulder/collarbone. Reader's barely put the machine and supplies aside before they're making out with each other. The reader becomes Lara's personal tattoo artists and something more, and they lived gayly ever after- amen ✋🏾

(Hi!! Hope you're having a great day- I love what I've seen on your blog so far and also the colour palette is veryyy pretty 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️)

(I know you said to drop some thoughts in your inbox, but I didn't expect myself to write this much. I'll probably ask if you could do a longer story in the future but for now it would be nice to see your own thoughts on it--if you're up for it, I think I just needed to let my gay thoughts out frrrrr thank you for the opportunity✨️)

- ✨️

OMG I LOVE THIS

I often think about lara getting a full sleeve too. the idea of a tattoo tour is always in the back of my mind, maybe I will write about it someday...

anyway, back to your ask, lara would definitely be the type to initiate those "platonic" dates, asking reader to design the tattoos together while grabbing coffee.

reader and lara would totally forget the original purpose of these hangouts and end up talking about their lives and interests for hours. not to mention the number of flirty remarks exchanged, with lara always praising reader's ability to draw while flipping through their sketches.

when lara asks reader to tattoo her in her living room, reader feels a bit taken aback by the request but accepts anyway, having developed a soft spot for lara.

these sessions are filled with tension as reader tries to keep things professional, avoiding touching lara too intimately, while lara's breath is just so unsteady, biting her lips to suppress the little gasps she lets out every time their hands brush against her overly sensitive skin.

by the final session, all the tension that had built up until now finally erupts when lara, after reader finishes the tattoo on her shoulder, makes a bold move. she straddles and kisses reader, pulling their face closer by the neck, while reader places their hands on her thighs, slowly making their way to cup and squeeze her ass. 😳😳

you didn't include it in the ask, but I can already visualize how beautifully the tension build-up could evolve into something intimate and steamy, oof... 🫣

btw I'm so happy that someone appreciates the aesthetic and the visuals of my blog. I really put effort into making the pictures and the colors look nice and cohesive, so knowing that at least someone likes them is really heartwarming, thank you anon 😭😭.

also, I actually really enjoy longer thoughts so don't feel limited, write as much as you want, and feel free to share all of your gay thoughts, I will gladly read them and share what I think.

[mariamariquinha]

Versos de Placer (Colonel Carrillo x f!reader) - Fourteen

Summary: A letter for you.

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: Bad words, slight violence, more daddy issues, fluff, mention of sickness, some angst and... did I say fluffl?

Author’s Note: Oof, I really thought about how would I say goodbye to this story. There's so much I want to say, but for now I hope the words I wrote here makes some difference in what we build as a small community of mutual interest in writing and appreciating what we had of Carrillo.

Quite a journey to get here, right? And I should thank everyone for each conversation, each comment and appreciation towards this. As a non-English speaker, bring all of this here had been a challenge, but one I accepted with love.

As always, I hope I could give a good end for this love story. See ya!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Join my taglist! Don’t forget to reblog, comment and like! As always, I would love to know what you’re all thinking! ❤

******

I wish I had done it differently, yes, but I don't think you should forgive me anyway. You don't know me and, by extension, you have every right to doubt my nature. Honestly, I recognize that that letter changed my life, as it reaffirmed that even though I’m in front of bullets or knives or big violent men every day, I’m still my father's daughter, which makes me a coward.

The Sun was burning your scalp a little, so you scratched the top of your head now and again because the heat was bothering you. From afar, you saw the small commotion in front of the building: people going out and about, fuzzing over each other. He didn’t exactly tell you where he was staying (you didn’t ask either), but the badge could do some convincing, such as your name. At least you hoped so. 

You looked at both sides of the street before crossing and, when you did, you ended up bumping into a girl – you apologized, even if a little bewildered, and she said everything was fine with a smile that you hadn't seen in those surroundings for a long time. That caught you a little by surprise, so you watched her go with a dumb expression in the middle of the sidewalk. 

“Permiso,” Excuse me, You said, approaching the doorman who was sitting in the empty lobby with his arms crossed.

He was cooperative and friendly, but said he wasn't sure if there would be anyone with that name there because the Americans were already leaving. Still, he called the hamal in apartment 15 (you saw him do it over his shoulder) and, shortly after, said that you were lucky and could come up.

Your father was already at the door when the elevator arrived and, for a moment, the two of you stood there for almost a minute just staring at each other without saying anything, as if you were meeting for the first time. He knew there was something you wanted to say that was unconventional, at least by the way he looked you up and down suspiciously, but he didn't give in to asking the question. With a gesture of his head, your father suggested (not offered, suggested) for you to come closer and you did so, just like when you were a child and had to ask permission to sit at the dinner table to eat. 

The apartment itself was already empty, except for a few pieces of furniture that were still scattered around and would probably be collected later. The floor creaked a little because it was made of parquet and the walls were obviously old – weird for someone with so much 'caliber', but you understood that maybe it was just a disguise for the neighbors.

“I still have a bottle of whiskey around here somewhere,” He said, even if not moving a muscle to reach for the said thing. 

“I’m good,” You shook your head, in time to see him agreeing silently. 

An awkward silence followed the decline. With that, you gave yourself another chance to look around and find something to comment on before going straight to the point. 

“When is your flight?” 

“In about three hours,” He shrugged. “I believe that the Embassy didn’t ask you to give me a ride like the first time.”

“You would know if they did,” You smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. He saw that and responded the same way, even pulling a chair out of the small table in the living room to make himself comfortable for a confrontation. 

“What is it then? Did I forget to file some paperwork or something? Because if that's the case, I have to let you know that I-” 

“Were you the one who killed Juan Marcos?”

The question caught him off guard, but not in a harsh way – he probably felt more outrage for the fact that you interrupted him, something he never took quite well. For a moment, then, your father just stared back at you, then scoffed as if you were stupid. 

“Thinking about leaving flowers on his grave before you leave?” 

“I don't think your moral compass is adjusted enough for you to remember which ditch you used to dispose of his body,” You crossed your arms over your chest, not failing for a moment to spit out your thoughts. 

“Don't be moralistic.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ve just been in this hell for so long, right? Catching criminals, doing the dirty work… that’s enough for you to give me some answers.” 

Again, a bit of quietness, but a contemplative one. He had that easy expression on his face, as if you two were discussing the weather, one that always put you on the edge of pure rage. You waited patiently, tho.

“... I did.”

“How.”

“You saw him, you know how.”

“Is this the kind of thing you would do for a daughter?” 

“It is, because I did,” He said calmly. “Is this some kind of intervention? This is what you want? Resolve all the frustrations you have with me now, hours before I, what’s that you said? Disappear from your life?” 

You looked at him with pursed lips, feet tapping on that stupid floor to prevent any more unwanted feelings. It felt like the Sun was burning your scalp again, so you unconsciously scratched that area again before rolling your shoulders and staring at him with a stone cold expression – one you certainly got from his side of the family. The question was there, burning in your lungs and throat, ready to leave your mouth and make him lose that sarcastic smile on his face. 

“... Would you do that for a son?”

The decline in his comfort was gradual, progressive, millimetric. The corners of his mouth lowered into a straight line, his jaw tightened, and his eyes darkened intensely. You flexed your fingers discreetly, trying to hide your defensive posture with the possibility of another aggressive approach on his part, but all he did was access you cautiously while looking for the justification for your question in the way you stood there, in front of him.

“What did you do?” He frowned, probably not sure of the end of that topic. 

“Me? Nothing,” You shrugged, head shaking. “Your son did.”

Your father rose from his seat with a harsh scrape of the chair but you kept still, glaring back at him. He could come closer, could do what he did in the office; it wouldn’t happen, though. You both knew, somehow, that someone was his weak point, the thing that couldn’t make him have good nights of sleeping for a reason you’ll never understand. 

That made you scoff a laugh before averting your gaze. 

“Now you know how it is.”

“Oh, so that’s what it is? Revenge?” His voice was so harsh, so taken by reticence and rage, that it made him static in a certain type of fury. 

“I think my best revenge was knowing that you got what you wanted most and he was nothing like what you expected,” You took one step closer, then another, and you two stood there, eye to eye. “Can you imagine? Being your son and having decency?”

“You better-”

“I better what? What, dad? Shut my mouth? Stop talking about Jorge? Or should I wait until you give me the first blow?”

Nothing. He stood there like a bull, fuming and grinding his teeth – no hand raised, no closed fists. 

“You asked what I want with all this, with this drama… I never expected anything I discovered about your life to be ethical or clean. You do whatever you want,” You shrugged again, this time going full exaggerated with a fake coy expression. “What I want is for you to take that plane, go back to the States and spend the rest of your days thinking of how your beloved son couldn’t be any more different than you in anything, better than you in anything and a man you’ll never be even closer to be. All that while being raised by a whore.” 

The slap was a familiar feeling, like that specific side of your face had a shape to fit his open hand like a glove. Even the movement of your head, the mixing of your insides, it had a natural way to flow, to go this way or another. Still, you’d been caught by surprise, so next thing you knew, your gum was bleeding – you could taste blood on the tip of your tongue, see it on the tip of your fingers when you assessed the small damage. It had the sting, the sharp pain, but that didn’t get a rise out of you. 

“That’s what you told him? That I’m your bad father who didn't beat you enough to give you good manners?”

“... Why would I need good manners? I’m a whore, right? Good manners wouldn’t make me fuck Carrillo like I wanted to and you couldn’t do shit to stop it,” That came out with such a force. “In all my life, nothing made me more happy than to trespass your limits as much as I could, to make you show your true colors and still put that scary expression on your face.”

With this, you took a few steps back, adjusting your clothes and smiling, the inside of your mouth and your teeth probably red from the blood. 

“Take that plane, go back home. I know that you’ll lie in your bed tonight knowing that you’ll have the same future as that damned Juan Marcos, alone in a grave that no one’ll visit.” 

It was as if thousands of years and hurt had finally created the courage to leave your shoulders, as if all the suffering he put your mother through had transformed into a controlled and punctual fury in your heart. A return. An end. And you left there knowing that, with that, you closed a cycle that gave you a happiness more sincere than Escobar's dead body on that roof.

******

Two days before…

You weren’t with your work clothes, so the heat was more bearable with the tank top. The worn out jeans were still there, just as the old boots, and just as the gun and badge. Habits. Carrillo looked at you beside him in the car, arms crossed with the stance of that old self, full Colonel mood of his. 

“Are you sure the info is relatable? Safe?”

“I am. Do you want me to bring all of the Colombian Army to this when you all should be celebrating something out there?” You turned to him with a teasing smile, seeing the frown on his face getting even more deeper. “Horacio-”

“Some of them are still out there. You should at least let Trujillo do a-”

“You’re already here with me, Horacio, and this is already too much. There’s people who need you right now.”

Instead of answering, he let you hold his toned arms, then both sides of his neck to melt some of his stubbornness in avert your gaze. Not getting a reaction, you tilted your head to get a better look of his face, jaw tightening in insistence, which made you sigh and let him go. 

“You don’t know him,” He said. 

“I’m aware.”

“And we’ve been through enough to be suspicious.”

“I’m aware,” You insisted, brows raised. “To be honest, I don’t know if I wanna do this but… If it’s him, if… I need to be sure.” 

“Why?” 

For a moment you just stared at his confused expression, not knowing the right answer to that – not sure if you had one. Then you pursed your lips, shook your head and averted his eyes to look through the window, where you could see the small house from afar. 

“... When my father left, my mother kind of disappeared. Mentally. It was as if the lights were on but no one was home,” Your tone was recoiled, way too low for someone so confident about their decisions. “He said some things to her, said this country was hell but even some cheap pussy could give him what he wanted. I honestly didn’t even know why he needed so much to have a son.”

You could feel Carrillo watching you carefully while you used that false calmness to explain what you wanted to say clearly.

“This made me spend time with my paternal grandparents because she couldn't bear to see me. I was a very complicated, restless child, so when my grandfather started using the old methods he used with my father and uncles when I messed up, I understood why he wanted a boy.”

You felt a weight on your chest, one that almost made you cry.

“At least I think I understand. He wanted to take out the frustrations of what he went through on someone and I was a girl, so naturally I couldn't handle punishment or fits of rage. I would have marks like my mother had and that would make things more complicated for his conscience. A boy could be molded to be strong, resilient. I was always too emotional for him.” 

Like the perpetuation of the species to whom he could transfer descendants or something like that. Bullshit. 

“I understand. Well, at least I think I would be that kind of person if things weren't different.”

“I don't think it's the same thing,” You shook your head. “You're here, that's more than he's ever done.”

“Because I love you.”

“And if you had children, you would love them too.”

Carrillo didn’t say anything. The idea of ​​children only crossed his mind when he was younger, as soon as he married Juliana, and it seemed so distant that he forgot what it would be like to imagine a life with children. You didn't want that, that's for sure; Given the life you two had, it would even be selfish to bring a child into the world. And even if the car was so quiet, so… calm, Carrilo always had the feeling that someone was lurking, and he felt bad for thinking that, in another time, he would be the same type of father as your father was.

You could feel, little by little, how his hand sneaked closer to yours, the tip of his fingers carefully passing through your knuckles before going up to your wrist. It was so soft, the way he touched you to test the water, to not invade your space, that when his hand reached for your forearm, pulling you just enough to make you turn to him, nothing could stop you from hugging him as if your life depended on it, pressing against his body fiercely. 

He didn't say anything because he didn't know how to say anything, because it wasn't like hearing the news that your father was coming to Colombia. Horacio was never good with soothing words. He knew how to act, that's for sure; in that case, if it were possible, if that sliver of humanity were to come away from him once and for all, your father would become a ghost like everyone else.

Well, but you already knew that – he had told you that when he recovered you from another low blow from your father. Selfishly, Horacio would always do his best to create miles of distance between the things he truly loved and those who risked any trace of peace he had achieved. And maybe you didn't know this, but he had made this promise to himself.

I'm not going to lose anymore, Horacio pressed you tighter against him, staring at the wall with the coldness of his decision. I don’t accept that.

“Let’s do this.”

******

I imagine to this day that you would never like Horacio. You always seemed too ‘communist’, progressive enough, but you would laugh until your stomach hurt at how stubborn he was. Still, I don't want to convince you to like him; I just want to tell you that it wasn't him who told me to leave before I could see you that day. You were fine, you were beautiful (I still know you are) and you were holding a baby in your lap, which I later realized was that of one of the patients you saved during an emergency birth. I was only there for 30 minutes and I heard people say more good things about you than they could ever say about me in my entire life. That's when I knew I had to leave you alone.

I cried in his arms later; I would cry a lot more in the years that followed, but I reserved every minute of my future life, the life I never planned for myself, to gather all the memories of what I could tell you one day. No, I'm not dying, at least not from my health, because you know that everyone dies one day, but I've been writing to you because I want you to know that you don't deserve the family you have because you're too good for us.

I want to tell you about Horacio. I want to tell you what we did and how I miss some things in life. I want to tell you this because I know he could be a solid bridge between the two of us, the person who would interpret you for me and interpret me for you. My mother would never be able to do it because of resentment, our father because of disregard and we because of ignorance.

Horacio, however, was my surprise during the time I spent in Medellín. If I want you to know me, I want to be able to reveal my best side, what I truly achieved when I decided I would love him.

******

It was strange not having plans, but you got on the plane alone. Horacio couldn't go with you, not at that moment; there was love between you, yes, but there was also responsibility, and he would never leave his own country behind. You understood. During the time you spent in Bogotá (not in Medellín), the two of you did things together: went out to dinner, visited places, had sex… Things that couples did. When you got on the plane, it was with the uncertainty that things would one day be okay, and that you would be able to reconcile life in Los Angeles with what had happened to the two of you in Colombia.

This was our father's fault and I'm completely sure of that. I was disallowed from having any further contact with the case, which I understood as private revenge for what I did, as if he wanted to take away more of the happiness you could have had if you were to work with Peña and Horacio later. I always resented him for that, I still do. Maybe it wasn't the worst thing he had done and today I know it wasn't, but it was as if every minute of my life, he took away a little of my happiness.

The letters you exchanged were always long, which went quite against his personality. It was as if, finally, he said in words everything he thought, did and gave his opinion. On your part, there were important descriptions, such as how much your mother was fond of him and the cases you worked on at the DEA. He, on the other hand, mentioned the well-known day to day life with Peña, what they worked on and how he missed you, above all, which hurt your heart.

“God, you have to put an end to this. I want to see you happy again, my daughter, and I want to meet him.” 

In one of them, which was a call, he told you something that he kept so deeply within himself that he was certain that, one day, he would come back to you for good and that there would be no turning back.

“I want to marry you. I see no other choice and I have no other way out. I need to assure myself that I’ll no longer have to tolerate this ordeal without knowing that I’ll come home and find you.” 

“Don't be so dramatic... I know people who would find our obstacles small compared to what they go through. I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”

“So wait. The next time we see each other, I'll have a ring to put on your finger.” 

You know, I always thought he was a brute, but Horacio never failed to keep his promises. In fact, he came back with a ring, and we actually got married, which was a simple thing that meant enough to both of us. We moved to El Paso. It was close to Peña, in fact, and sometimes we spent holidays together, which I never thought would happen. Maybe, thinking about it now, it's those moments that I miss most.

“Is that white hair?”

“Fuck off, we both know we’re getting old,” You elbowed Javier in the guts, puffing smoke in the Texan hot air. “By the way, you’re getting a belly down there. Don’t come at me.”

“What I gained, you lost. Have you been eating?” 

No was the proper answer. He knew it was, and that was why he asked. Still, you shrugged, taking another drag. 

“... Yes.”

“Hey-”

“I am, Javi, I promise. It's just been different.”  

“I hope so. One of you needs to remain standing.”

It was around the time our father passed away. Well, I can't say for sure if it was too close or too far, especially since he fulfilled his own mission of dying alone. I didn't have the opportunity to talk after he got sick; I didn't even know if he had someone. Today I'm almost the same age as he was when I was in Medellín and I can't see him in myself, while I don't know if I would live my life differently if he asked me for forgiveness. Below I leave exactly where he is buried and, if you want, you can visit him. If you're the praying type, decide if it makes sense to give him the privilege of prayer; God knows I'd like that too.

******

At that point of things, you made fun of Horacio for not actually marrying you like the tradition said, just giving you the ring he promised he would, but you understood that the world didn't survive on big events like that.

When he found out what the diagnosis was, you went straight to the computer and did your research. It wasn't that you didn't believe the doctors, but the first step to acceptance was denial, and you knew how to do that very well. At the time, you had just been promoted to an important position in Mexico. You found a good doctor there who could treat him, and the offer didn't get as much back-up as you thought it would – it was like he thought he was going to die.

It was a very different change than it had been when you went to Colombia years before. There was no urgency, no hustle, just the tranquility of a bureaucratic job with a good house, space for a yard and a good salary. 

“It's in the early stages, so it's a relatively simple treatment. The change in routine and habits will be more severe, so I would be more attentive to that.”

You decided to stop smoking along with him because of this and, deep down, Horacio was a little upset at having to stop this habit.

“I don't know, I just feel embarrassed,” He said one night, you two sitting on the porch because he wanted to take a look at the street. “I didn't imagine that my life would end without emotion.”

“You won't die like this, stop being an idiot.”

“How can you know?”

“Well, because I just know.”

Not every day was easy and, honestly, coming to Mexico was the acid test for many things in my life. Interestingly, I never thought about giving up Horacio, and if I was honest with myself, I also thought that one day I would die from a gunshot or something that would make newspaper headlines. He would never admit it, and neither would I, because it seemed inconceivable, but having that life made us feel grateful and, most of all, lucky.

It was also at this time that I decided to get back in touch with you. He made a promise that if he was cured of cancer, he would include forgiveness for his own past, so we started slowly. I met Juliana (and the three children she had), and I started visiting our father almost religiously every year. We went back to Texas to see Javi, and sometimes we went to Miami to visit Steve. Horacio had reservations about my country, but he could appreciate some things that I think you might like too.

Jorge, I know that our life could have been different and I, as an older sister, feel responsible for being able to give you some glimpses of life with a family up here that loves you, because I would like that too. Along with these letters, I also send tickets to the capital, for you and your husband, if you want to visit us. Horacio is a great tour guide and I, interestingly enough, learned to be a great hostess.

I apologize for having done all this so late. Well, apologies are never enough, but I feel that this phase of my life, the phase of gray hair and wrinkles on my face, terribly nicknamed 'better years', is the right time for the two of us to reconcile for someone who left us behind.

I miss what we didn't have. Even if you don't want to, which I understand, know that my life is only complete because I know that a part of me is also in you.

******

“Appealing to nostalgia?”

Horacio barely raised his head from where he was staring at a box full of old trinkets. Through the mess of the office, he went straight to the memories of Medellín, rooting around and reliving the years in the dust, and he seemed focused enough to barely pay attention to you.

You could say that the guests were already arriving, that he should take a shower soon to welcome them, but the scene seemed so peaceful that you were afraid to interrupt and decided to participate.

“You have that perfume again,” He murmured right when you touched a framed picture of him and Trujillo alongside other stuff. 

“Does that bother you?” You eyed him over your eyeglass lenses, to which he tsked and shook his head. 

“You’re also appealing to nostalgia.”

“Huh, I remember that was the first thing you noticed about me when we met.” 

Horacio then looked back at you and, seeing your mischievous smile, smiled back, leaning back on the chair to give you full attention. 

“You drove me crazy, that's what.”

“I didn't know that was the effect it had on you. In fact, I was sure you hated me.”

“Because I couldn't want you and I wanted you.”

You left the frame in the box and walked over to him, walking around the table to sit on his lap, which he gladly accepted. For a few moments, you stood there, motionless, staring at his face, not knowing exactly what to say, just… admiring him, the grays on his hair and the lazy grin splattered there. 

“What are you thinking?” He asked then, always eager to get inside your head. 

“I always imagine that we wouldn't be here if we didn't live what we lived there,” You pondered, a hand massaging the side of his neck. “And it's weird because people have lost so much. Do you think we deserve it?”

“Is this part of your reconciliation process?”

“Yeah, I guess. I've been thinking about some things... I'm writing you a letter, even.”

“But I'm not going anywhere.”

“I know,” You pecked his lips softly. “Who knows, maybe I can express it with words instead of hiding it on paper.”

Horacio stared at you for a bit, his brow furrowed and the mechanisms moving in his head. You thought it was strange.

“What?”

“I want to read you something.”

You got up so he could look for what he was finding, and when he did, he took a notebook out of a box, accompanied by yellowed sheets of paper.

“I wrote these things while we were in Colombia.”

“And what exactly is it?”

“In the beginning, it was a diary of missions and operations that we carried out. The day you arrived, I ended up writing 'perfume' instead of 'precision', which made me realize that the feeling wouldn't leave my head. I didn't stop thinking about you after that, so I started… I don't know, writing down things about you, what you did, what irritated me and what I liked.”

There was no way to react, more out of shock than offense at him having kept it in for so long. You imagined a Carrillo from the past, a thousand times more stubborn and stubborn, taking the time to write about a woman he couldn't stand. Maybe sitting alone at night in the office, cigarette in one hand and whiskey in the other, mumbling swear words while saying he liked something about you, disbelieving his own feelings.

Then he took that photo that Steve had taken, which he stole and caused temporary chaos with your colleagues. You, younger, tired but with a spark of life, an eagerness to do the right things. 

You watched him as he looked at the photo and felt a warm feeling in your heart that seemed more frequent since you started having more moments together.

When he started reading what he wanted, you could barely move.

“I don't know what this woman did to me and I try hard every day not to ruin everything because I think about her so much. The perfume drives me crazy, the defiant eyes impress me and, oh my, lately I've noticed how incredibly mind-blowing those jeans make her. I have no one to express these feelings to, perhaps because I can't say in words what I imagine when I think of her.”

“Today she told me to go fuck myself. I had to suppress my satisfying smile when I saw that fire in her eyes when she spat those words in my face, because I purposely provoked her into being angry with me, thinking I wanted a reason to get her away from me. In the end, I know that that exact reaction was what I wanted, that she will never give up because she is too stubborn to do so. She goes to the end. She is true to what she believes. I'm sure I'm in love.”

“If nothing were as it were, I would ask her to dinner. I would see her eyes light up in the candlelight, I would make all the romantic moves and show a side of me that no one knows. I want to see her confused, I want to surprise her, and then I want to kiss her, make love to her, and feel every inch of that sweaty skin beneath my fingers while I see her sigh with the pleasure I'm going to offer. I want her, I want her so much, and I feel bad for every kind of thought I might have about her.”

“I call these verses, then. Versos de Placer, in my mother tongue, one that she knows how to say and that is even more beautiful when it comes out of her mouth. Verses that I will never be able to recite out loud, not to her, but I will be able to remember as the spark of a good memory of the complicated days we spent hating ourselves because the world we are in is destroying us. Always her, and never anyone who isn't her or who even looks like her.”

“Always her and her perfume and her accent and her presence. Always.” 

******

No pressure tags:

@cheesybadgers

@thesandbeneathmytoes

@616wilsons

@nessamc

@thoroughlymodernminutia

@padbrookcottage

@seaweeden

[the-kr8tor]

oof. alright.... how about hobie spending his first chinese new years with his asian girlfriend? 🍙

Thank you for requesting! (I uploaded this earlier bc i might accidentally forget lol) I hope I wrote this okay since I haven't been to a chinese new year celebration in a while 😔 ly 😘

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Asian! Fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x Asian! Fem! Reader.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, CW food mentions, lovestruck Hobie, FLUFF.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Hobie helps you lay the blanket on the rooftop, the wind whips at your cool cheeks, the repurposed blanket is thick in your hands. Finally settling the blanket on the ground, you smile triumphantly as Hobie who's still in his suit, chuckles at your pleased face.

Just below the rooftop, down on the lively streets, you hear the familiar drum beats, the laughter and chatter of the celebrating crowd and the smell of traditional food that brings back memories. The dragon dancers roam around, clad in red and gold, they expertly dance to the beat. You chose the higher location knowing that he just came from patrol and would most likely go back to it after the celebrations.

You've planned everything, from the best optimal position to place the blanket for a better view of the fireworks to the best food from your culture that you already know Hobie would love. You just hope everything goes well, you're properly nervous, wanting it to be perfect for Him since this is his first Chinese new year.

Hobie, the sweetheart that he is, senses your slight distress. He comes around the cloth, careful to not step on it with his boots; closing the distance, you smile at him, knowing that he's about to comfort you.

“You're very frowny today, heard that's not good.” well, comfort you in his own way, you suppose. He takes off his gloves before holding your cold cheeks, the skin on skin contact almost makes you melt. “What's got you pouty? Did you forget somethin’? I can swing by and get it?”

You take his hands off your face, lacing them together with your own. “I just want it to be a great experience for you.” Your voice small, eyes avoiding his.

“You’re here, it's already great.” He winks, knowing how it would affect you.

You feel like there's fireworks exploding under your skin. “You're an ass.” Words full of fondness, beaming at him with the light of a hundred suns.

“The best arse though, right?”

“You barely have one.” Now he's the one pouting. You squeeze his hands before letting go. “Come on before the food gets cold.”

Sitting down, you take tupperware upon tupperwares of food from the thermal bag. Hearing cloth shuffle, you feel Hobie put his chin atop your shoulder.

“Need help?”

“No, thank you though.” You move your head to look at his excited face. “Just sit there and look pretty for me.”

“That's your job, love.” He wiggles his chin, making you giggle. Wrapping his arms around you, he watches intently as you open each tupperware, the aroma making his stomach grumble. “Fuckin’ hell that smells good.”

Hobie tries to get a spring roll but you stop him with a small slap to his hand. “Hands! I don't know whose face you rearranged today.” You rub the back of his hand as an apology. “There's wet wipes in my bag.”

��Fair enough.”

After laying all the utensils, your hands are icy against his warm ones whilst you teach him how to properly hold chopsticks. Hobie has his tongue poking out from his lips, face scrunched up in concentration.

Guiding his shaking hands as you both slowly raise the dumpling clutched precariously in his chopstick. He triumphantly takes a huge bite of the savory food, raising his arms, chewing and eyes filled with glee.

“You did it!” Cheering, you dodge the chopsticks in his hand as he leans forward to hug you.

“It's so good, holy shit!” He says with his mouth full, arms around your middle. “You made this?” You nod shyly, “You’re fuckin' ace, lovie!”

“Thank you,” rubbing his back, feeling the roughness of his leather vest, you crane your neck to press a quick kiss on his temple; making sure your appreciation translates through it. “You have to try the tikoy!” You excitedly say as you take a generous piece just for him.

Before you two know it, the food is completely devoured, nothing left but a few stray vegetables and the mess left on the blanket.

Hobie lays down, vest discarded somewhere, full and content. He rubs his stomach, humming a tune.

“You look like a very happy cat right now.” You say above him, hands on your hips, beaming down at him. “You're even purring.”

“I don't have an arse and now I'm a bloody cat.” He opens one eye to sass you. “What's next then?”

“My pillow,” you flop down, landing on top of him, especially careful of his full stomach.

He lets out an ‘oof’ and then a deep chuckle. “I don't mind this one” you snuggle to his chest, nosing on the spandex of his suit.

His hands embrace you completely, fingers absentmindedly drawing shapes over your shirt. Humming, you shut your eyes.

Feeling featherlight kisses on your forehead, you wake up to fireworks bursting above you. You gasp, enamored by the lights. He laughs as you ooh and awe, eyes flicking between you and the heavens. But he finds you more beautiful than the pyrotechnics.

He nudges you, you squeal when he brings out a couple of paper lanterns for you to light.

“How– where did you get those?”

“Swung below before we ate.” He shrugs as you look at him like he's the fireworks above, all heart eyes and full of endearment. “Bloke gave me a discount too.”

You chuckle, scooting closer to him. “Hmm, I wonder why?” Poking his side, you scratch his spandex clad stomach.

He laughs above the booming fireworks. “The suit helped I guess.”

You can't help it anymore so you lean to his side, resting your head on his shoulder, peppering his skin just above his jaw with sticky kisses.

“Thank you,” you say against his skin, not minding the stubble. “I love them, let's make a wish then.”

“No need to thank me. I should be thanking you.” The colorful fireworks lights up his face, reds, blues, greens and yellows dancing on his skin like heavenly light.

“Let's just say we're both thankful.” The fireworks reflect on your sparkling eyes.

Hobie nuzzles the top of your head briefly to satiate his need to kiss you. Bringing out a lighter, he lights each one before carefully handing your paper lantern to your waiting hands.

You close your eyes briefly, making your wish while Hobie copies you wordlessly.

You peek at him, “at the same time?”

“Always.”

Letting go of your lanterns, Hobie's and yours fly together, swirling around each other. He faces you, cupping your cheeks, ghosting his lips atop yours. You smile softly, hands gentle on the back of his neck.

“Happy new year, love.”

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Find the word

Thanks @winterandwords here, @museandquill here, and @aziz-reads here!

Rules: post excerpts from your WIP with the given words

My words: fast, slow, still, backwards, track, praised, question, reappeared, unwieldy, cabbage, adjoining, design

Your words: peace, head, test, blank

Tagging @authorcoledipalo @authorlaurawinter @chauceryfairytales @tabswrites @mk-writes-stuff

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet

Keep reading for:

Ash gets help

Power control with Carla

Kelsey should not put on more adult responsibilities!!

Lexi and Ash find the portal

Robbie's eyes are like black holes

Shh...older draft of Part Three...

A bit from an older work

Carla looks for her mom

Ash out of breath

Fast - from The Secret Portal Part One (Ash POV)

“Really?!” I said, pushing myself off of the tree—a little too fast, so I almost fell over. “Um, where exactly, uh, do I go?”

Slow - from The Secret Portal Part One (Ash POV)

“You’ll be fine,” Carla comforted, not seeming to notice I wasn't nervous. “Don’t be afraid of your powers. But you must know how to control them, which is why we’re going slow.”

Still - from The Secret Portal Part One (Kelsey POV)

Still—wasn’t satisfied. I worried that Aunt Kamryn would forget that Roni would want to read a book aloud before brushing her teeth. She usually practiced her reading with me. Hopefully Mom or Aunt Kamryn were a good replacement.

Backwards - from The Secret Portal Part One (Lexi POV)

“It seems weird,” I said, almost walking backwards to keep an eye on her as I turned around the corner of the school. “Like—ah!” My boot got caught on the grass, causing my feet to slip. I tumbled onto the ground and dropped my violin, the “oof!” that followed indicating Ash tripped over the sturdy case.

Track - from The Secret Portal Part One (Akash POV)

I’d lost track of how many times I’d overheard other students fawning over that attribute. I have dark eyes, too! But apparently they didn’t have a gravity that drew everything in to its death.

Questioned - from "Eternity"

Praised - from The Secret Portal Part Three (older draft)

Inside the ambulance, the doctors were astounded by the miracle of the girl, but there was no time to praise that.

“Why did you report this to the FBI?” I questioned. “This seems like just an average missing person case--no offense. Why didn’t you report this to your local police?”

Reappeared - from The Secret Portal Part One (Carla POV)

My eyes didn’t leave my pia and the other lady. Pia disappeared into the shadows. The other lady looked around for her. Behind the lady, Pia reappeared.

Unwieldy - N/A

Cabbage - N/A

Design - from The Secret Portal Part One (Ash POV)

Adjoined - N/A

I was panting hard. The spirals on the ring’s design pressed itself into my palm. A headache was starting to form in the back of my head.

[prettyinpwn]

Re: people taking the Dipper and Ford parallels involving the apprenticeship and the Scholarship, because- like- it's absolutely also a case of the 'fantasy vs reality' theme of the series, like- Ford's apprenticeship was never going to last longer than a week, if Dipper didn't have a breakdown and beg to be taken home (which is not exactly off the table granted Ford isn't in a super emotionally stable place either) then it wouldn't exactly be long until their parents are roadtripping all the way up to Gravity falls to kick Uncle Stanford's ass for trying to keep their child without their knowledge or consent. It's acknowledged in the show that the apprenticeship wasn't REALLY something Dipper realistically thought was an option but was indeed another fantasy, but it's an understated moment in the escape from reality ep and most people forget it was there.(i mean what does staying in oregon with a hermit scientist in the woods studying anomalies do to help him get into film school for his own ghost hunting series?)

and if you take that to parallel ford's 'fantasy setup' one could probably extrapolate that he'd have been kind of miserable at West Coast Tech anyway, of course, we don't have any way to prove that bc Dipper was able to quickly identify that Mabel was emotionally manipulated and tricked into the situation, but Ford was too blinded by his own hurt feelings (and Stanley's terrible attempts at explaining himself) to realize it WAS an accident and lbr the WCT people probably wouldn't have given him a free ride scholarship anyway they were a tech school in Silicon Valley in the 70s and Ford was some poor kid from a poor town in Jersey they absolutely would NOT have given him a free ride scholarship

In a funny way though, this means that Stan is the anomaly among the 'fantasy vs reality' themes of the pines family, bc while Dipper and Ford and Mabel were all, while in the midst of it, utterly convinced of their own fantasies, only able to realize how UNrealistic they were in hindsight, Stan as the family conman was always well aware of the lies he told and that were told to him. And that's how you get so good at selling fantasies that you can out-lie the triangle SO BADLY that he's still raging about it in his therapy journal ten years later

(Oof sorry it took me so long to reply, I've gotten a lot of messages lately and I take these weird ass breaks from Tumblr from days to months at a time for some reason.)

Some great thoughts to ponder in this, Anon, so thank you for sending them in! Yeah, that's another theme I forgot to mention, like you said: fantasy vs. reality. And the beauty of that theme in Gravity Falls, is that even the setting is a symbol of it: where the fantasy of the supernatural and the reality of a little rural town with every day people collide.

I think you're right: Stan is the most balanced of all in this manner. He never really gets drawn into an unreality or fantasy. He knows what's what and what's bullshit, because like you said, he sells bullshit for a living. In fact, I'd argue he's too much into reality. Poor guy needs some escapism and hugs. </3

But yeah, it's very possible that Ford and Dipper would have been utterly miserable if they'd followed the "fantasy" path in life. My favorite way of explaining my thoughts on the whole apprenticeship thing can be summed up in this shot from D&MvsF, and it might be my favorite shot in all of Season 2, honestly:

I can't prove it was intentional - Hirsch and crew would have to do that - but it's almost funny how Ford is portraying himself as this hero. He says, "Dipper, can you honestly tell me you never felt like you were meant for something more?" and strikes this pose. But like... that doesn't look like a hero. That looks like a broken old man with shadows and cracks placed seemingly very intentionally over his reflection.

Even the lighting feels symbolic: there's light on Dipper, whereas the only light on Ford is behind him. Like Dipper's story still has hope and his best days are ahead, whereas Ford squandered the good in his life for decades and is alone in the darkness of his work. It's... kinda depressing, actually. Looking at this shot always makes me feel awful for Ford.

In symbolic language, this shot says to me, "This is the same kind of person, but the older one's a darker reflection of the younger one. A forewarning of what could happen.". Because, look, I'll defend Ford to the end, but like all the other Pines, he's flawed. This man harmed his best friend/lover/however you interpret what Fiddleford was to him, his brother, himself, and almost ended the universe. Like... Ford apocalyptically fucks up, literally. So for him to still think he's on a noble path and tries to portray his way of life to Dipper as this heroic thing in this scene, I feel like he's trying to convince himself as much as Dipper that he's a hero. But his reflection here doesn't lie.

So honestly, I see the apprenticeship as Ford trying to project his image onto Dipper. To become the hero he failed to become, and by training Dipper, he'll think, "Oh, my legacy isn't tarnished, because look at what I produced!". And that's why I think this shot is amazing, because it feels like Dipper starting to see the cracks in his great uncle he's idolized all summer up until this point. He's not the amazing author he fantasized about as this great hero, he's... a broken man with flaws, exploring the husk of a long dead spacecraft with alien death all around him.

I think you're right on the West Coast Tech front, too. This delves into my super big masterpost on Ford's writing, but in that post, I came to the conclusion that Ford's yearning for West Coast Tech was more about impressing his father and providing for family over his own passions.

He didn't even really want to go to West Coast Tech until his principal was like, "Hey, this place exists, and could make you a millionaire.". Filbrick was impressed, and THAT'S when Ford was like, "Hm... now I'm excited!". I think if he went there, he wouldn't have made any friends since that's been a constant in his life except for Fiddleford. Speaking of, he wouldn't have even met Fiddleford if he'd gone there, anyway. So in all likelihood... Ford would have been very alone with very stuffy, elite folks and would have felt more alienated than usual.

Like, can you picture Ford actually fitting in with people at that college? It would have likely been mostly people in the, "Mommy and Daddy bought me a place here!" circle who rode coattails to get in. Like, they'd talk about yachts and crap and Ford would be like, "Yeah, I found a rotten old boat on the beach with my brother once.". And likely it would have ended with raised brows and, "Ew, it's a poor, it has cooties and six fingers!".

That, or he would have been surrounded by other egotistical nerds. And no offense to really intelligent people, but in my experience, some extremely smart people can be condescending. Ford might have found a similar atmosphere at WCT where he might have been looked down on by people that were even smarter than him - or richer - and with even less social tact.

Trust me... I've been around a bunch of Fords on steroids in real life, and it ain't fun being surrounded by arrogant geniuses, speaking as a nerd myself. There are two types of nerds: the ones who accept their outcast-ness and are comfortable with it, and those who are insecure who take it out on others by pulling the "outcast" stick out of their asses and beating up other nerds with it. I'd bet an arm and leg that WCT would have been full of those kinds, making Ford miserable (or he'd have adapted to become just as snooty and/or arrogant as them).

At Backupsmore, he had Fiddleford from a similar poor background he could relate to (and humility - can we all pause to clap for Fiddleford for being a humble genius?) and just enough money for a grant and freedom, but not enough for his father to come running with a hand out, and likely less condescending people. He actually probably was better off going to Backupsmore, honestly.

Anyways, sorry this was a super long reply, but these are all my thoughts on the topics you brought up. Long story short, I agree on the fantasy vs reality theme you mentioned applying to Dipper and Ford. WCT could have been awful for Ford both in the peer and father greediness department, and the apprenticeship likely would have been awful for Dipper in the dark path department. Both Dipper and Ford are way better off being with their twins, imo, or at least that's the show's thesis on the matter.

[bengiyo]

Ossan's Love Returns Ep 5 Stray Thoughts

Last week, Maki had to leave for a work trip right as his dad was home alone with back pain. Haruta stepped in to take care of his father-in-law, but Maki's dad was not feeling it. We also learned the sordid details about Izumi's dead lover who was Haruta's doppelganger, and they Izumi is determined to avenge him. We also know that Kiku is in love with Izumi. Izumi offered some insights about Maki's dad via chess that allowed Haruta the honor of being allowed to wipe his father-in-law's butt. Kiku also came clean about their law enforcement role to Kurosawa, figuring he'd just be a problem if he wasn't told. Takekawa went on a bachelor show and was summarily rejected. Also, the chief had a fall and scared us all.

Kurosawa won the vacation voucher!

Kurosawa's apartment layout looks similar to Aoyanagi Hajime's.

OOF. Kurosawa is struggling with loneliness.

Yes, let's follow-up on the butt-wiping and Takegawa getting rejected.

These enormous ongiri are throwing me off every episode.

Wow this handstand is very impressive.

Choko is now the Gay Whisperer, and she has new reasons to despise Haruta;

Oh lord these people are still spying on Izumi and Kuki.

Yes! Everyone go to Atami!

I'm so ready for the hijinks!!!

Episode 5: Take Me to Atami

Atami is very beautiful! Good work on the tourism front.

I will never stop thanking this show for how physically affectionate Haruta and Maki are.

Kurosawa almost falling on the stairs twice would be funnier for me if I wasn't worried about his health.

Maki lost his ring!!!

Guys, do not put the waiter through this!

Poor Maki. This is not what her had in mind at all.

Why is Kurosawa still fanning??

I appreciate that Kiku also has strong feelings about honoring Akito's memory.

Oh shit, I didn't expect Kiku to actually admit it.

Oh, Kurosawa. I'm glad he hugged Kiku as a fellow loser in love.

Now how the hell did both Maki and Izumi fall here.

Chief, you gotta stop putting hands on that man!!

This sloppy brawl is everything I hoped for. Chief and Maki fighting and tearing shit up. Kiku stumbling in drunk. Unexpected wrestling and double pinning of Haruta, opening up a whole can of worms about how Izumi and Kiku probably wanted to fuck Akito. Dragging Haruta for being indecisive. Sloppy crying. Kurosawa had a fan the entire time.

Oh, Haruta. I love how hard you love your husband.

"Make sure to reflect on that." I'm so glad Kurosawa had a good time.

Izumi...bro...

This trip was so much fun. I loved seeing them blend with the neighbors, and I loved seeing Kurosawa get to be as extra as he wanted. He was ready to fight Maki the entire time and he did! I can't believe Maki smashed a fake rock over Chief's back. Incredible. I just know the staff was pissed about them in the morning. Let me not forget Choko, because she is right to be annoyed that Haruta always seems to be at the center of gay drama around here. I'm also so worried about Takegawa.

[spikedsoul]

maid's worst nightmare - ch 42

visual representation of me realizing how long it's been since my last chapter update :') sorry! there's been a lot happening in my life including getting back to a few other fics. anyway, finally, here we go with this chapter! hope 5k words is enough of an apology oof

cw: period talk, periods

previous chapters

@martinys-world @agreatcheesecakestudentstuff @travelingtmblelyw33d

“You’re sure Junior’s gonna try and jump?” you sighed, rubbing your face as you followed behind Bowser to the garage door.

“No offense, little lady, but I think I’d know how my son would react a little better than you,” he snorted back at you.

He did have a point… but surely Junior would remember how you told them earlier that you were sore, or something? Whatever your excuse had been. But then, being a little boy, perhaps the adrenaline of the race had made him forget that you might not be able to catch him - assuming Bowser was correct about Junior’s reaction to winning, of course. He probably was.

You nearly ran into Bowser’s spiked shell when he stopped abruptly.

“Hey?”

He glanced back at you, a serious look on his face. You frowned in concern, but your concern quickly vanished when he suddenly smirked and yanked you into his arms for a kiss before you could even blink. And then, before you could fully process, he was walking through the door.

“Papa!” Junior screeched excitedly, “Did you see me win?!” Bowser hesitated a moment, then lifted his head to smirk smugly at you over the top of his head.

Junior had jumped into his arms.

You rolled your eyes, but smiled warmly as you stepped around the giant koopa to see the boys. “That was a lot of fun!”

Morton was pouting with his arms crossed over his chest; he huffed softly at your words. Ludwig lightly nudged him. “Don’t be rude, Mort,” the eldest sibling muttered, before turning to you with a nod. “Thanks, handmaid. That was a weird race, but it was fun.”

“Nuh-uh!” Morton huffed, “I fell off! That wasn’t fun at all!”

“You’re just jealous that I won,” Junior stated, sticking his tongue out at his brother.

“Junior,” Bowser scolded; the little koopa winced a bit.

You just chuckled softly and went over to Morton as normally as you could, holding your arms out in invitation for a hug. Morton glanced at you, hesitated, then gave you a tight hug, not about to let go too soon.

“It was scary seeing you drive off the edge, y’know,” you murmured. “I’m glad you’re okay. It might not’ve been fun for that to happen, but it did make for an exciting race, and I think showmanship is almost as important. I was impressed that you didn’t give up even when that happened.”

You were keenly aware of how all the chatter behind you stopped, but for once you didn’t let yourself overthink it. Morton slowly pulled back from you, looking at you like he didn’t quite believe you’d been worried.

“You… promise? That you worried? About me?” he asked haltingly, his eyes flicking over to his family.

A little smile tugged at your lips, and you brought your hands up to cup his cheeks. “Of course. I thought you were plummeting to your certain death in that lava.” When he just stared at you in stunned silence, you leaned in and kissed his nose lightly, then dropped your hands.

When you turned back around, you were admittedly a little surprised to see all the koopas staring at you. Well, Bowser was grinning, but the boys were staring at you like you were the most wonderful thing they’d ever seen in their lives.

“I want one,” Ludwig blurted.

Well, who were you to argue? You could tell by the way Junior was leaning away from his father that he’d also want one, so you got right to it and placed a kiss on Ludwig’s nose. The eldest brought his hand up to touch where you kissed, going cross eyed like he’d be able to see it. You smiled, then turned to Junior - who was actively reaching for you.

You couldn’t deny that you forgot just how young he was. He was so smart and relatively independent that it was a bit of a shock to see him acting like the young child he really was.

You gathered the youngest koopa into your arms, giving him a kiss on the nose as you did, and held him close; even Bowser looked a little stunned as Junior snuggled into you. Since you were holding Junior, you missed the look that passed between him and the two older boys, but you saw them glance at each other before looking straight at you again.

“Mama,” the three boys chimed in unison.

Your cheeks grew red awfully quickly - they said it in a serious tone, no stuttering or snickering or smirking. These boys really just dubbed you Mama…

“Boys, you can’t just–”

“It’s okay,” you said softly. Your face was still quite hot and no doubt red from the unexpected new title, but you were just as surprised as everyone else that you just said that. “I don’t think I mind, honestly…”

Bowser placed his hand on your back, but retained a steely, blank face as he looked you up and down. “You sure? Not easy suddenly takin’ on teenagers when you barely old enough to be a young mom.”

Junior pressed his face into your neck, practically a perfect fit because of how small he still was. You gently rubbed the boy’s shell between his nubby little spikes. All you could do was give Bowser a look, and the man chuckled and shook his head.

“Alright. But, boys, I don’t want y’all overwhelmin’ her, okay? A lot’s happened this week, so let’s be wary of that,” he sighed.

The boys all made noises of agreement. Morton had already displayed a surprisingly high level of emotional intelligence from earlier, so you wouldn’t be surprised if Bowser was raising his kids to be aware of that. Either way, though, the next thing you knew was that the two older boys had very insistently thrown their arms around you for a group hug, their eyes perhaps a little wet from the fact that you weren’t rejecting them.

Apparently not one to be left out of a family group hug, Bowser sighed, then threw his arms around all of you and held you all close to him - despite the amount of bodies and shells, the koopa still managed to squeeze you all right to him, and there you all stayed for a few solid moments.

Alas, unfortunately all good things come to an end, so eventually Bowser pulled away, bringing his two older sons with him. “Alright, boys. Me ‘n Mama gotta talk about stuff, so y’all go bother Sister or something. I’ll talk to y’all at dinner about an errand I need for one or all of y’all to run tomorrow.” Ludwig opened his mouth to say something, but Bowser held up a clawed hand to stop him, even shaking his head. “Sorry, kiddo, but it’s important stuff.”

The boys exchanged a glance. Apparently, Ludwig hadn’t been about to ask whatever his father had anticipated, but since he’d been silenced already…

You didn’t even have time to set Junior down before he leaned back a little and placed both of his little hands on your face, staring deeply into your eyes. You were so taken off guard by it that all you could do was blink a few times as you waited for him to say something.

“Are you two getting married?” Junior finally asked.

Immediately, Bowser swiped the littlest koopa from you, laughing too loudly as he gestured for you to follow him to the door, Junior tucked into the crook of his other arm. “Haha! Y’all are real funny sometimes, Junior! Poor lady hasn’t even been here a full week, so y’all let her get settled in before askin’ questions like that!”

On the way to the door, he set Junior down and instead placed his hand on the small of your back. The door was just barely cracked open when Morton piped up one more time: “That wasn’t a ‘no,’ though! It should’ve just been a yes or no question, but you didn’t answer yes or no, which means that there’s a possi-”

Bowser shoved you through the open doorway and practically slammed it shut behind him, cutting off whatever else Morton was about to say.

You honestly couldn’t blame the big guy; it was definitely too soon to know if marriage was on the table! But you couldn’t deny that at least for now, the flame between you and the king had the potential to become something significantly more intense, in a good way.

However, it also absolutely opened you up to teasing him.

“So when’s the wedd–”

“Tell me, li’l lady,” Bowser interrupted as he swept you up into his strong arms once again, “how I can marry someone without knowin’ her name? Won’t you show mercy to this poor koopa and finally tell me? Put me outta my misery?”

So, this was it. You had promised him a discussion about your name, and it had finally come time for that. Unfortunately, that would also mean going into a little more detail about your life after leaving home. More fortunately, Bowser would be there for snuggles, and you couldn’t deny that after your morning romp and subsequent aftercare, you were more than willing to put your faith in him as a safe being to start potentially, slightly relying on.

You could only hope this wouldn’t come back to bite you, but you were willing to take the risk. It felt like your recovery depended on it.

“Unfortunately, it’s not exactly a straightforward answer,” you said softly, your head resting against his chest as he carried you.

He hummed quietly in confusion. After a moment, he stated, “Okay, gimme the shortest answer you can.”

The shortest answer? Well… sure, you could do that. No doubt it’ll just confuse him more and he’ll end up demanding the longer version, but alright.

“I’ve forgotten it.”

Bowser hummed again, then chuffed, then tilted his head. “...Huh?”

Yeah, that sounded about right honestly.

“I said I don’t remember it.”

He hummed yet again, although this time it was more in acknowledgement that he heard you. When you tried to open your mouth to start the little story, he cut you off with a short “Ah!” sound, like you were a pet about to do something bad and he was warning you not to.

The fuck? You blinked in surprise, stunned into silence as he brought you back inside and started ascending the stairs to his room.

“But–”

“Nah.”

Your eyes narrowed a little. Perhaps understandably, you were struggling to figure out what was going through his head, but it was pretty clear he didn’t want you to talk. Did he think you were stupid? Did telling him you forgot your own name make him think differently of you somehow? That… really couldn’t be right, but you also knew from experience that sometimes small details like that made all the difference for people. Surely King Bowser Koopa wasn’t one of those people… right…?

“No wonder you respond to everything,” Bowser stated suddenly, finally summiting the stairs and making a beeline for his door.

“I–”

“Hush, sweetheart, I’m thinkin’.”

Ah, so that was it. As irritating as those little noises were, you reminded yourself that you were still learning about him. You could work with it next time… which in and of itself was a weird thought to have so confidently.

Bowser didn’t say anything else until he had the bedroom door locked, you sitting on the edge of the bed, and himself sitting on the floor in front of you with your hands held in his. To his credit, this was probably as close to eye level as you two could get, vertically speaking, without you standing. Once all of that was achieved, he heaved a surprisingly cool sigh into your face, seemingly emptying his lungs entirely of air before stopping.

The way he gazed at you as he did that made a blush creep into your cheeks; it was a fond look, still, but there was something more to it, like if he looked at you long enough he’d suddenly understand everything. Hell, you could even see the moment he decided to finally speak again.

“Rodney?” His voice was so soft and careful that it nearly made you crumble into tears right then and there.

However, you kept your composure, and answered evenly, “No, actually. He didn’t help, but even before him I forgot my name.”

“Baby, that’s… a little sad. That’s really sad. How come you don’t seem too upset?” he practically crooned, squeezing both of your hands. You were a little surprised, honestly; you hadn’t thought just how bad it might sound to someone else that you forgot your own name. “Identity is often rooted in a name; names hold power for their owners… Ain’t names important where you from?”

You could feel your eyes glaze over as the question slammed into your brain like a massive Bullet Bill. Were names important where you were from? Surely they must be, right? You didn’t remember living in a huge community or anything, but surely everyone had names? Like… like, um…

“I-I don’t know,” you blurted.

Suddenly, you were faced with the fact that you had potentially been going through your life without your own name entirely, a true name that you could reliably fall back to, which no doubt stole any form of self identity from you. After all, how could you form an identity without even a name to your existence? Going from place to place with a different name every time, never really a permanent residence long or safe enough to feel like a true home - and no family name to try to go back to.

The most confusing part about it all was that up until you met Rodney, your life had been pretty nice. No real identity, but you got along contentedly until you went to the next place, so it wasn’t like you had trauma around forgetting or never knowing your name! It just never really struck you that you could have just picked something out and kept it… which means it must’ve been a learned behavior.

Bowser’s claws raking gently over your scalp had you blinking clarity back into your eyes, and you focused on the man in front of you. He looked worried, but not overly so, so it seemed you just got lost in thought and didn’t accidentally panic.

Nice.

“I never really thought about keeping one for myself,” you admitted to him. You shook your head a bit, leaned over and kissed his nose, then sat up again. “I mean, I can’t remember why I had to change names so often, because my life was honestly pretty decent up until I met Rodney, but I remember that I did have to. It was just a part of my life that I never thought twice about.”

You brought your free hand up to your man’s snout, gently running your hand along those soft, smooth scales. He rumbled quietly, clearly relaxing a little - although you weren’t sure if it was from your words or your hand.

“Promise you’re not hidin’ anything?” he asked, his eyes closing, a rough purr starting up.

“I promise,” you chuckled softly.

“Right… I mean, it’s still sort of a big deal that ya don’t have a name, though. Like I said, names got power, especially here. Names is important - I guess you been goin’ by Jeanne right now, but you better find ya a name you really like. One that feels… hm, I guess like home?”

Well… you didn’t really have a solid sense of home, either, but you knew what he was trying to say. Maybe it would be worth it to finally pick one out that you’d use for the rest of your life? Or… maybe you chose another temporary one, just in case things ever went sour here. That seemed like a better idea, frankly.

But then, if you went that route, then you were potentially setting yourself up to fail. It didn’t hurt to have a backup plan, an escape plan if you will, but sometimes anticipating something to fail would ensure that it did… fuck, this was starting to get confusing.

“Darlin’.”

“Huh?”

You blinked a few times. Whoops, you got a little wrapped up in your head!

“Do you like the name Jeanne?” he repeated.

“I… I’ll figure it out,” you sighed, rubbing your face.

“Listen.” Bowser sat up a little and brought both of his hands to your face. “This ain’t a time to be flippant. Find a name that you really, genuinely like, sweetheart. Names have serious power here. I mean it.”

You brought your hands up to rest over his, gazing at him. You really hadn’t thought having a name would be such a big deal, but…

“I’ll think on it,” you said softly. “I’ll get some suggestions from the kids, though… and you. Since I’ve never really thought about it too hard before, I’ll need a starting point…”

Bowser nodded and ran his thumbs over your cheeks. Good, that was an acceptable answer!

For a moment, there was silence between the two of you as you just gazed at each other; there was nothing more to say about this topic, at least for now, and you bought yourself a little time to do some research about this whole name business. Both for finding names, and finding out what he means by ‘names have power.’

Eventually, you leaned forward and kissed his nose, and then he tilted his head just enough to steal a sweet kiss off of your lips. You didn’t bother to hide the smile that appeared after.

“So that’s one issue out the way,” the koopa murmured. “But I guess while I got you here, there’s somethin’ else we should probably talk about.”

You blinked, surprised, but nodded a little.

“What else do we have to talk about?” you couldn’t help but ask. As far as you knew, there were no other secrets between you two… right? At least you hoped not!

He dropped one of his hands from your face to your thigh and gave it a gentle rub. “Rodney’s death.”

Immediately, you shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze. Yeah… just because he was dead, didn’t mean he’d stop causing you problems, apparently. You nodded for Bowser to keep going.

“Peasley is gonna realize at some point that he don’t have one of his guards. He smarter than you think, so I imagine the question will come up as soon as tomorrow.”

At least it wasn’t today… right?

“O-okay?” you mumbled, lightly leaning your face into his scaly hand.

“So I ain’t gonna lie to him. But this means you might need to explain your story to him directly, and I’ll have Peach corroborate it.” He brought his hand up from your face to push your hair back from your eyes, which were starting to well with unshed tears.

You hated still being so goddamn emotional over that evil man, not even giving yourself the reminder that he literally just died and that it was okay to be feeling all over the place emotionally. It was probably expected, even, but you’d be damned if you didn’t berate yourself back into quiet silence!

“Easy, baby girl,” he cooed softly, wiping your eyes, “I’m gonna be with you, okay?”

You squeezed your eyes shut as the tears spilled, struggling to keep your breathing even, focusing on the feeling of Bowser’s hand oh so gently wiping your face free of tears. It… didn’t ground you as much as you wanted, frankly.

“Won’t that potentially start a war? Political issues, and stuff?” you managed to croak out.

Bowser rumbled and pulled you into a tight hug. “Already thinkin’ like a queen. You let me worry about that part, okay? Me and Peach. I’m the king, after all, so it’s my job to handle this sort of thing.”

Hopefully Bowser and Peasley had a cordial enough relationship that the foreign prince wouldn’t decide that killing Rodney was an act of war against the BeanBean Kingdom. Plus, if Peach and Rodney had been related, surely Peach and Peasley were on friendly terms that he’d believe her even if he didn’t necessarily believe Bowser. You’d spill your guts if you had to, but this reaction to simply mentioning him had you wondering if you’d even be able to get through the story? Hell, you already felt like Rodney was still out there and about to burst into the room any moment, yelling at the top of his lungs about how you’re emotional over something that isn’t even directly your concern…

You clung to Bowser as you struggled not to let yourself spiral. Even so, a few panicked sobs escaped you. Slowly, gently, he pulled you off the edge of the bed and into his lap to properly hug you; even the stretch of your legs around his waist wasn’t enough to set you straight again.

As you sat there blubbering with your face in his neck and your arms wrapped partially around his torso, he began to rock a little from side to side. Although you didn’t outright question it, it struck you as a little odd that just this small little reaction had him acting this way. It was very pleasant, you weren’t complaining or anything! Just confus–

Oh… wait… what's that little discomfort starting to settle in your lower abdomen? Surely your body wouldn't add insult to injury, right? You weren't expecting anything to happen for another week anyway…

Bowser rumbled softly as he shifted his head just enough to get his nose against you, warm air hitting you as he sniffed deeply.

"D-don't tell me," you sniffed.

"Sorry, sweetheart."

“No… please, body, not now…”

“I’ll have Kamek get you some, uh… well, y’know.” He rubbed your back gently, still rocking you.

You heaved a sigh despite the tears still falling, and rested your chin on his bulky shoulder. “You can just say pads or tampons. It’s not a taboo subject or anything.” Especially since they’re in private… Hopefully this wasn’t an indication of Bowser’s potential immaturity around certain things.

“You might gotta forgive me, lovely. I ain’t exactly versed in human reproduction, but I got a rough idea how it goes… so I know what I’m smellin’ from you and that it means you’re not pregnant, but…” He sniffed you again. Whether for dramatic effect or because he liked the smell was up in the air.

At the very least it was giving you more to think about besides that near-spiral. It was hard, you wouldn’t deny that - it was taking a lot of effort on your part not to give in! Conscious effort. At least in this moment, you would keep yourself from totally falling apart.

“So, what, did you phrase it that way because you didn’t know the name of the products I’m gonna need?” you asked, not sure if you totally believed that.

“...Yes,” he mumbled with a gentle nuzzle to your temple.

Finally, the corners of your mouth twitched as a small smile threatened to make an appearance. “Really? There’s a lot of types, so I can write down the stuff I specifically use… you know what the products are for, right?”

“Uh…”

Oh, dear. Poor man didn’t even know that much… well, this probably meant that Wendy wouldn’t have to experience the misery that is the period, at least. After all, reptiles weren’t exactly known for periods.

“It’s to absorb the blood I’ll be bleeding for the next five or so days.”

Bowser’s eyes went wide and for a moment, all he could do was stare silently at you. You watched him, allowing the information to sink into that thick skull of his. Finally, his mouth opened and closed a few times, and then he let out the most alarmed, panicked, “HUH?!” you ever heard in your life.

It was like you had just told Bowser that you were going to sacrifice Junior or something, honestly, because the next thing you knew, Bowser's hands were gripping your arms and his nose was pressed against yours. "YOU'RE GONNA BE BLEEDIN' FOR A FUCKIN’ WEEK?!" he practically bellowed, right into your face.

It made sense Princess Peach would hide that little time of the month from her many-year stalker, but you had to wonder how exactly she managed that. Still, this was the proper reaction (in your opinion) that every non-female person needed when being told the truth.

You gently ran your hands over Bowser’s snout in a soothing manner. “What did you know about the human reproductive cycle?” you asked gently.

At least it wasn’t a discussion about Rodney anymore.

“Um…” Bowser blinked, apparently taken aback by your calm nature about your period. “I… I know the hormones tend to fuck with emotions, so you might get pissy or angry or sad and it ain’t exactly your fault. And that you’ll need chocolate.”

Well… okay. Could be worse, you supposed. Still, the poor guy had no idea what he was in for - not that you were a demon or something from your PMS! But he couldn’t known literally nothing at all, which would’ve been a much harder conversation to explain, especially how hormones absolutely cause most of the PMS symptoms that people usually think of.

The chocolate bit went unrefuted by you because it was true. You’d need chocolate.

You sighed softly as finally, a weariness began to settle into your bones; after this morning’s romp and the brief episode you nearly had, you were already exhausted from the day, and sort of ready for things to start winding down for the day.

“So - so tell me what all you gonna need, so I can tell Kamek. Please.”

“Can I see your phone? I’m gonna write it all out, since there’s specific brands and stuff I tend to like.”

Finally, he let go of you, allowing you to slump against him as he pulled his phone out from… somewhere. He unlocked it, then brought up the little notes app before giving it to you. You resettled in his lap to better type, and soon was handing the phone back to him. You watched as his eyes scanned the things you typed.

“...Shit, little lady. How often does this happen, to know exactly what you want?” he mumbled.

You bit your lip, unsure how he’d take the news, but you wouldn’t deny him the information that’s honestly just generally good for him to know: “Once a month, every month.”

“What?!” It was a lesser reaction, at least, but he was still obviously not happy about learning all of these new facts. Honestly, you didn’t blame Princess Peach for not telling him the ins and outs of being a female human. “Forever?!”

You smiled a little, gently petting his chest. “Nah… not forever.”

He relaxed as he hugged you. “Oh… good. How long, then?”

“Until I’m roughly fifty, so I got a good few decades left of this bullshit,” you sighed, rubbing his forearm. “Symptoms aren’t always the same, either, but depending on how long I end up staying, you might start recognizing signs…”

“Can’t believe Peach never told me anythin’ about this,” he muttered, his nose tucking against you.

It was all you could do to gently rub his forearm again; at least you could explain that to him.

“Well,” you sighed, “typically human women are taught to keep it to ourselves that we’re on our period… I dunno why, it’s just supposed to be a very personal thing. So it’s not surprising Princess Peach never told you; it seems she was also raised to largely have it be a private matter. Even female friends won’t tell their male friends unless they’re just that close, y’know?”

Bowser hummed quietly in thought as he held you close like kids hold large stuffed animals. Knowing he was thinking, you waited for him to speak up instead of offering more words.

“That… makes some sense,” he said slowly. When he didn’t immediately expand, you reached a hand up to lightly stroke his bushy eyebrows, which prompted him to continue, “I only ever successfully kidnapped her right as the smell of those hormones was fading. I mean, over the years I put it together, but…”

You blinked a few times, then frowned, but kept your thoughts to yourself. The way that Bowser just worded that, it sounded like what had actually been happening was that Peach allowed herself to be kidnapped when she knew Bowser wouldn’t be able to really ask questions… or else how could he have literally never stolen her during her period? Over so many years it was statistically impossible unless she was pulling some sort of strings behind the scenes.

Well… whatever. That was neither here nor there for now.

“Yeah, she just didn’t want you to know or ask embarrassing questions,” you reassured him softly.

He rumbled softly, nuzzling you against your temple as he asked, “But you’d answer my questions, right? If any come up?”

You smiled a little and nodded your head yes. “Of course!” you stated, “since you’re gonna have to deal with me anyway. It’s the least I can do.”

“Oh, it ain’t ‘cause you nice.”

…Huh? Why was he so confident about that when you literally just said you might as well?

“Oh?” you inquired, wanting to hear his explanation.

“Nah,” he scoffed. He grinned against your temple - you only had a split second to mentally prepare yourself for his next words, rumbled quietly right into your ear: “It’s ‘cause you my good girl.”

Deity above, you wanted to hate those words and hiss and shrivel away from him like he’d just poisoned your yoshi or something… but instead, goosebumps erupted over your skin, your shoulders in danger of giving away just what you thought about that little phrase.

“Oh, shut up and get Kamek to get that list,” you muttered. “I’m on limited time before I start bleeding through my clothes.”

“Fuck–!” Bowser nearly fumbled his phone as he rushed to send the list to Kamek, definitely alarmed by your casual threat. It did give you a small sense of satisfaction that you could still give him a little whiplash just like he did to you with that little ‘good girl’ comment…

…He was going to get you into trouble. But, for once, you wouldn’t mind…

[jonogueira]

Herald's rest.

Cullen, of course! And a meetcute! Make it fluffy, please 🥰 @isk4649

I hope I don't disappoint! Thank you for the prompt.

~~~~~~

The tavern was crowded, of course it was, the Inquisitor had just slain their very first dragon. Bull boasted about their victory with a tankard in hand while Dorian looked at the Qunari with death in his eyes… and not because he was a necromancer, of course not…. maybe it was because part of his mustache was slightly burned… who knew?

The singing and laughter filled the place. Ale spilled in the air. Tapping of dancing shoes and stomped toes followed by ouches and oofs, but most importantly the smiles on people’s faces. For a few hours, they would be able to forget the horrors waiting for them beyond the frozen mountains.

And there, with a worried frown and an excuse on his lips, entered the Commander. His armor ever present along with his tamed blonde curls. The stubble on his face telling everyone around how worried and busy he had been since the news reached Skyhold. His rumblings of danger and crazy heard in his wake. Beside him walked Varric. The dwarf had a smile splitting his face and, in his eyes, a softness he showed only for his deepest friends.

They walked to the counter and asked Cabot for a drink. As soon as the tankards touched the surface, Varric was gone, leaving Cullen alone—or so he thought.

In the middle of cursing the man, Cullen almost spit his ale when he noticed a person sitting beside him. A pair of kind eyes stared at him with awe and apprehension in them. He apologized for his words and offered a small smile as a peace offering, one that was accepted with a blush.

There was silence between them that dragged on for long seconds that felt like centuries. Clearing his throat, Cullen tried to start small talk but failed miserably. Maker. Trying to salvage the situation, he offered a drink and smiled at the small nod of confirmation.

Taking his gloves off and folding them in front of him, he waited for the drink to arrive. Both their hands reached for the tankard as soon as it was placed in front of them, and when Cullen’s big, strong hands circled the tankard, he felt the softness of skin under his palm, and electricity ran through his body. Turning his head to the side, he caught himself staring at teasing lips.

Once again, he cleared his throat. Maker. He was making a fool of himself. Again.

Changing his thought process, he decided to turn his body and focus on what mattered the most at that moment. From then on, they talked about everything and nothing. They laughed, exchanged tales, and had a great night. Little did he know Varric watched their interaction not from too far away with a pleased smile on his face. The dwarf had everything under control. Now, it was just a game of waiting.

As it always happens in this kind of situation, night became morning in a blur, and Cullen found himself lost for words when the sunlight filled the place and time to go back to the real world caught up to them.

“It was a surprisingly wonderful night.” He massaged his fingers. His eyes locked in the tankard in front of him. “I was wondering if you-” His words were cut short when a bunch of spies approached them, urging his companion to join them. A sad smile was all the answer he had, and he bid his farewell with an understanding but disappointed nod in the group's direction.

During the following days, Cullen watched the valley below, wondering where the group had gone. He entertained the thought of asking Leliana, but what good would that do?

Taking a deep breath and replacing the memory of a warm smile with the endless hours of work ahead, he went to his office, only to have his steps halted.

Halted because the warm smile was present again. Halted because a pair of the most beautiful kind eyes stared at him.

He halted because you were back.

And this time, there would be no stuttering nor apprehension.

“Would you like to have a drink?” The words left his lips laced in hope.

“I would love to.”

More one-shots!

Thank you for reading!

[johaerys-writes]

[20 Question Fic Writer Tag]

tagged by @baejax-the-great thank you!

How many works do you have on AO3? As of now, 47.

What is your AO3 word count? 1,084,458

What fandoms do you write for? Currently neck-deep in my Patrochilles (Iliad/TSOA/Hades) obsession. But I've also written for Dragon Age (Pavelyan), Voltron (Sheith) and Castlevania (Trephacard, Lenector).

What are your top five fics by kudos? High-Flying Birds, Like Friends Do, Winter's Fruit, Jasmine and Yarrow, Where Blood Roses Bloom.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I love responding to comments!! Even if it's just to say Thank you. I absolutely love rambling in my replies and getting into discussions about lore or characters' motivations and such. This is the fanfic experience at its best for me.

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Honestly I'm not great with angsty endings haha. Even if the fic as a whole is very angsty, the ending tends to be happy. I think the fics with the saddest ending are Loyal To The End and The Wound That Never Heals, both Hector/Carmilla (Castlevania). Some people have told me they found the ending of At The Water's Edge quite bittersweet.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Now we're talking haha. Of my most recent ones, Twin Flames has a very sweet ending. Fall Into Your Tide also has a super hopeful ending, and another favourite is A Place To Be. I'm all about that comfort after the hurt babey.

Do you get hate on fics? I think I've only ever got hate once or twice? As far as I remember. I honestly couldn't care less about it, I forget it as soon as it happens lol.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yessir. Not exactly sure what kind? Are there different kinds? I would say that my favourite to write is angsty smut with lots of complicated feelings. And also I do like sprinkling some kink here and there whenever I feel like it.

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? I've only ever written one crossover and I still love the fuck out of it, it's a Witcher/Dragon Age one with my OC Tristan Trevelyan and Dorian Pavus and it was sooooo fun to write oh my god. I would love to revisit that universe ngl!!

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of? Depends on what we mean by stealing. I have had parts of fics of mine lifted and used in other fanworks without credit, it wasn't great but it's been a little while since then and I haven't noticed anything else (not that I've gone looking though).

Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! A super lovely person has been translating High-Flying Birds into Vietnamese.

Have you ever cowritten a fic before? Yes! I've cowritten several fics with friends and it's always so nice, I love working with other people.

What's your all-time favourite ship? Oof that's a tough question. If we go by number of fics written, it would have to be Patrochilles. If we go by number of words written, it would have to be Pavelyan (almost 450k 💀). If we go by number of fics I've read and bookmarked, it would have to be Sheith. So idk if I can give a straight and clear answer lol.

What's a WIP you'd like to finish but doubt you ever will? God I really do want to finish A World With You and I do think I will do it eventually, it's just that I know there's a LOT of it left and it's often really daunting. I also want to finish Where Blood Roses Bloom but, again, the plan I have in mind is kind of ambitious and it will take me a while to get there. Also, Blood Roses In The Snow is one I want to get back to, and that one would be easier to finish since there's only like a couple chapters left.

What are your writing strengths? Probably imagery, introspection, and I've also been told I write good action scenes!

What are your writing weaknesses? Dialogue, probably. It stresses me out the most haha. I also used to be able to write complex plots but it's gotten quite hard lately, idk why :(

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I don't love it. I'm fine with a word here and there or even a phrase, as long as it's been sort of explained before or it's one that's widely recognised. I just feel like having a big chunk of untranslated dialogue in the middle of a story breaks immersion and I try to avoid it whenever I can.

First fandom you wrote for? Dragon Age, specifically Inquisition.

Favourite fic you've ever written? Noooo you can't make me choose, don't make me choose 😭 Damn that's tough. Twin Flames is still a huge favourite. A Place To Be is one I often come back to and I'm super proud of how it turned out. A World With You is the first fic I ever posted and the longest, I have spent so much time with it and it has a special place in my heart. And this might be cheating because it's my current fixation, but I feel like you're a walking disaster, and yet— is some of my best writing yet, I'm very fond of it.

Tagging forth to: @elveny @pikapeppa @mary-aries @darlingpoppet @pinkfadespirit @sketchass @starlightvld @petrowriting @in-arlathan @figsandphiltatos @heypax and anyone else who'd like to do this! (Also, if you don't want to be tagged for these memes let me know!)