#also the coat kept falling off
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
first time cosplaying lol
(does this count as a face reveal i guess it sort of does-)
#drdt#danganronpa despair time#xander matthews#cosplay#drdt cosplay#i know it sucks but like#i think it was okay for my first attempt#face reveal? sort of-#i had to wear contacts for this i really hate contacts#also the coat kept falling off#does xander velcro it to his shoulders or something#idfk
58 notes
·
View notes
Text
worship Part: 2
A week ago, Joel finally gave you everything you’d been missing—passion, desire, and the attention of a man who truly craved you. Now, you’re ready to leave your husband behind, but before you can make your move, a garden party at your home pushes everything to the brink.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, cheating, explicit sexual content, possessive Joel, fingering under table while people are there, hitting your husband (deserved), oral (m receiving) while driving, divorce, angst, rough sex (P in V), dirty talk, body worship, breeding kink, emotional tension, secret affair, neglectful husband, explosive confrontation, soft moments with sarah and Joel, 11k words.
· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··
It had been a long, exhausting week since that night with Joel—since everything between you shifted. His touch, his voice, the way he had made you feel seen and wanted, lingered in your mind every waking moment. You hadn’t seen him since, though you’d spoken in hushed tones on the phone, voices low as you discussed the delicate plan of how to leave your husband. It had to be done carefully. One wrong move could make everything fall apart.
Today, though, you were still stuck playing the perfect wife. Your husband had thrown together a garden party for his work colleagues, eager to show off the life he liked to pretend was flawless.
But, of course, he hadn’t lifted a finger. The pressure of preparing the garden, arranging the food, and making everything look effortless fell entirely on you. The weight of it clung to your shoulders like a heavy coat, but you did it anyway. Even now, you couldn’t shake the need to make everything look perfect, even if he didn’t care.
As the guests arrived, you moved between them with a forced smile, offering drinks and making small talk, though your mind was somewhere else—waiting.
Joel was coming.
And the thought of seeing him again, of having him close, made your pulse quicken in a way that had nothing to do with the party.
The garden was bathed in golden light as the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the lawn. You were pouring a glass of wine when you saw him slip in quietly, unnoticed by most.
But not by you.
Your heart fluttered in your chest as your eyes found him, his presence steady, grounding, but also full of that same heat that had lingered between you since that night. And maybe longer.
Joel moved easily through the crowd, shaking hands, nodding politely, but it was obvious—he wasn’t here for all that. His eyes kept finding yours, flicking toward you even as he spoke with others, his gaze lingering a little too long, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile every time you caught him staring.
You tried to focus on your tasks—pouring drinks, offering food—but every time you turned, Joel was closer, his presence weaving around you like an invisible thread pulling you toward him.
You could feel his gaze on you even when you weren’t looking, the heat of it warming your skin. The tension between you was palpable, and you could barely breathe as it thickened the air.
Finally, as you set down a tray of hors d’oeuvres, Joel was there, standing beside you, his presence sending a wave of warmth through your body. You didn’t have to look at him to know he was close—his scent, that familiar, earthy mix of soap and pine, filled the space between you.
“Hello, darlin’,�� Joel’s voice was low, just for you, the deep timbre of his Texas accent sending a ripple of awareness through you. He stepped closer, his breath brushing your ear as he leaned in slightly. “Need any help with all this?”
Your heart pounded in your chest as you glanced around, trying to make sure no one had noticed how close he was standing, the intimate way he was speaking to you. “You don’t have to do that,” you said, your voice barely steady. “You’re a guest.”
Joel’s lips curved into a soft smile, his eyes dark with something unspoken. “I’m not here for the party, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice thick with meaning. “I’m here for you.”
His words sent a rush of heat through you, making your knees feel weak. You glanced around again, nerves buzzing under your skin, but no one seemed to be paying attention. His fingers brushed lightly against your arm as he reached for the tray you were holding, the touch sparking a fire beneath your skin.
“Let me help,” Joel said softly, his hand lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. His touch was firm, comforting, but there was something beneath it—a quiet intensity, a need that neither of you could ignore.
You watched, breathless, as Joel moved through the party, gathering glasses and plates, his strong hands working with quiet efficiency.
He moved like he belonged there by your side, taking over tasks you’d been doing alone for far too long.
The sight of him—tall, broad-shouldered, moving with that quiet confidence—made your pulse race. There was something undeniably sexy about the way he did it, the way he moved with purpose, his gaze flicking back to you every so often, checking in silently.
At one point, as you both cleared another table, his hand grazed yours again—this time, he didn’t pull away. He let his fingers linger, his touch light but full of meaning. He leaned in slightly, his voice a low whisper meant only for you. “You look beautiful,” he murmured, his lips just inches from your ear.
The compliment sent a shiver down your spine, your skin tingling under his gaze. You glanced around quickly, making sure no one had heard, but the words lingered, hanging in the air between you. His eyes flickered with something deeper, something that made your breath catch in your throat.
He wasn’t just talking about how you looked—he was talking about you. The way you held everything together, the way you moved with quiet strength, even when you were on the verge of crumbling.
“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your eyes met his. The connection between you was electric, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away—there was no party, no guests, no husband.
Just you and Joel, standing there in the golden light of the garden.
Before you could say anything else, your husband’s loud voice cut through the moment, pulling you back into reality.
“Hey! More drinks over here!”
You flinched at the sound, the familiar sting of frustration building inside you as your husband continued barking orders like you were nothing more than a servant. You opened your mouth to respond, but Joel was already moving.
“I’ll take care of it,” he said quietly, his voice steady but filled with a protective edge. He shot you a quick glance, his eyes dark with something that made your heart pound—a promise that he wasn’t going to let your husband keep treating you like this. Not anymore.
You watched as Joel moved across the garden, grabbing a bottle and refilling your husband’s glass without a word. Your husband barely even acknowledged him, too absorbed in his own conversation to notice anything, but Joel didn’t seem to care. When he returned, his gaze softened again, his eyes locking with yours as he stepped closer.
And the way Joel looked at you… it wasn’t just admiration. It was desire—deep, simmering beneath the surface, barely held in check.
Every glance felt like a secret, a silent confession of the things he couldn’t say aloud. Every time his hand brushed yours, it wasn’t accidental. Each fleeting touch sent warmth spiraling through you, igniting something raw and undeniable.
When he returned to your side, his hand grazed the small of your back, lingering longer than necessary, the pressure just enough to remind you that he was there, close. The touch was so simple, but it sent a pulse of heat through your body, making your breath catch in your throat.
“You shouldn’t have to do this alone,” he murmured, his voice low, the rich warmth of his breath skimming across your neck. “You’re always the one carrying everything.”
The words weren’t just kind. They were a gentle rebuke to all the years you’d spent doing just that—being the one who did it all, with no one ever truly seeing the weight of it.
You glanced up at him, your chest tightening at the softness in his eyes, the concern etched in his features.
“Joel…,” you whispered, the words barely audible, your voice unsteady.
The lump in your throat grew as you looked down, overwhelmed by the weight of everything unsaid between you.
But Joel wasn’t finished. He moved even closer, his hand lifting to gently cradle your cheek, his thumb sweeping tenderly over your skin, grounding you.
“You do all this,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, “workin’ yourself to the bone and yet you’re still the most breathtakin‘ woman in this entire place.”
His words hit you hard, your breath faltering as your heart raced, threatening to burst from the emotion building inside. His touch was firm, steady, but underneath it, you could feel the undercurrent of something deeper—something that made your pulse quicken, that made you lean into him just a little more.
You could feel the tension building between you, the air thick with all the unspoken feelings that had been growing between you for months.
You couldn’t do this out here—not with people around. You needed to be alone with him, somewhere you could finally let go of everything you’d been holding back.
“Come with me,” you whispered, barely audible over the sound of the party.
Joel’s eyes darkened with understanding, and he nodded subtly. He followed you quietly as you slipped through the garden, making your way toward the house.
You led him into the kitchen, the noise of the party fading behind you as you closed the door, shutting out the rest of the world.
The kitchen was dimly lit, with the sound of the party outside fading into nothingness as you led Joel inside, closing the door behind you. The soft glow of the light cast shadows across his face, making his already dark eyes seem even deeper, more intense. Your heart pounded in your chest, the air thick with everything left unsaid.
When you turned to face him, Joel was already stepping closer, his gaze locked on yours. His hands reached out, pulling you toward him with a quiet intensity that sent shivers down your spine.
His touch was firm, possessive, as if he had been waiting too long to feel you again, and now that you were alone, he couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Joel,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you looked up at him, feeling the heat of his body so close to yours.
He didn’t respond at first—he didn’t need to. His eyes, full of longing and unspoken need, told you everything. He cupped your face with both hands, his touch gentle but with a restrained intensity, like he was holding back the full force of what he wanted to do.
His thumbs brushed over your cheeks, his breath warm against your lips.
“I can’t get you outta my head,” he finally murmured, his voice rough, low, filled with raw need. His hands moved down, wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer. “Every time I close my eyes, it’s you. The way you feel… the way you sound when I’m inside you. It’s all I think about, baby.”
His words sent a rush of heat through your body, your breath catching in your throat as the memory of last week flooded back.
The way he had touched you, the way he had made you feel, was seared into your mind too. You’d been replaying it over and over, the ache for him growing stronger with every day that passed.
“I’ve been missin’ you so much, pretty girl’,” Joel whispered, his lips grazing your jawline as his hands slid lower, gripping your hips.
“Every damn night… fisting my cock thinkin’ bout you. Thinkin’ about how perfect you feel wrapped around me. How good you taste.”
You gasped softly at his confession, your hands curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him even closer. His words sent a shiver through you, the raw honesty in them making your pulse race.
You could feel his breath hot against your neck, the roughness of his beard brushing against your skin as he kissed you softly, each touch of his lips making your body tremble.
“You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” Joel growled against your neck, his voice thick with desire as his hands roamed over your body, sliding up your sides, feeling every curve as if he were memorizing you all over again. “You don’t know what you do to me, baby. I’ve been countin’ the days ‘til I could have you like this again.”
His mouth claimed yours in a deep, hungry kiss, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you firmly against him.
The kiss was filled with the desperation of everything he had been holding back—the weeks of restraint, the nights spent thinking of you, wanting you, needing you.
You kissed him back just as eagerly, your body pressing into his as your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him.
Before you could kiss him deeper or let your hands explore more of him, your husband’s voice cut through the kitchen, calling everyone outside for dinner.
The spell was broken, and with a shared glance, you both knew you had to split, to act like nothing had happened. You quickly adjusted yourselves, smoothing over the moment to avoid suspicion.
You followed the crowd out to the garden, still flustered from what had just unfolded with Joel.
Joel walked beside you, his hand brushing against yours as you sat down. You were still reeling from the intensity of what had happened, and you couldn’t shake the way his rough voice had whispered filth into your ear just moments ago. Your body was still buzzing with unspent desire, even as the cool evening breeze washed over you.
You sat beside Joel, your heart racing, trying to calm the thrum of desire that had been simmering between you both since you entered the garden.
The tension was almost unbearable, his presence electric, every glance in his direction making your body prickle with awareness. It was impossible to focus on anything else—not with Joel so close, not with the hunger that had been left hanging between you both.
Just as you thought you might regain control, Joel’s hand found your thigh under the table, his touch possessive, like he was claiming you all over again. The warmth of his hand against your bare skin sent a jolt of electricity straight through you, and your heart raced as he slowly dragged his fingers higher, inching closer to where you were already soaked and aching for him.
He acted like he had every right to touch you—like your body was his to explore and own, and the intensity of it made your pulse pound in your ears. His fingers grazed your inner thigh, teasing, deliberate, and you fought to keep a straight face, knowing everyone else at the table remained oblivious to what was happening beneath the tablecloth.
Your husband, as usual, was too busy talking loudly, bragging about work and drinking far too much to even notice. But you noticed. Every move Joel made had your body clenching, anticipation building as his fingers slid higher.
With a low, growling whisper, Joel leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “You think about me all week, huh? Think about my cock stretching out that tight little pussy?” His words were so filthy, they sent heat flooding between your legs, your panties already damp from the thought alone.
You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure as Joel’s fingers inched closer, slipping under the fabric of your dress like it was the most natural thing in the world. His touch was agonizingly slow, his fingertips barely brushing your soaked panties.
“I can feel how fuckin’ wet you are,” Joel whispered, his voice dark and possessive. “This pussy’s beggin’ for me. I could take you right here, couldn’t I? Fill you up right under his fuckin’ nose, and he wouldn’t even notice.”
Your thighs clenched instinctively, trying to stop the flood of arousal that was pooling in your core, but Joel wasn’t having it. His hand gripped your thigh tightly, prying your legs apart, his fingers teasing along the edge of your panties. “Don’t you dare try to hide from me,” he growled. “You know this pussy’s mine.”
The possessiveness in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, your breath catching as his fingers finally slipped under the thin fabric of your panties, dragging over your slick folds with a slow, deliberate motion. Your body trembled as he teased you, parting your lips with his fingers, slicking them through your wetness.
His thumb found your clit, pressing down just enough to make your legs shake, his fingers spreading you open and slipping inside with agonizing slowness. You bit down hard on your lip to stifle a moan, your body begging for more even as you tried to stay quiet.
“Fuck, you’re soaked,” Joel growled, his voice thick with lust. “So fuckin’ needy for me. Bet you haven’t felt this good in years, have you?”
You could barely breathe, your body trembling as his fingers pumped in and out of you, curling just enough to brush against that perfect spot inside you. His thumb circled your clit, slow and teasing, keeping you on the edge but never letting you tip over.
“Look at you,” Joel muttered, his voice low and dark as his fingers fucked you under the table. “So fuckin’ desperate for me. This pussy’s mine. You’re mine. You belong to me now.”
The sound of his voice, so full of ownership and desire, sent another wave of heat rushing through you. You clenched around his fingers, your walls tightening as he worked you over, pumping harder, faster, the wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of you barely hidden by the noise of the party.
Your husband’s voice droned on, oblivious to what was happening right in front of him, while Joel’s fingers fucked you mercilessly under the table. The sheer filth of it, the forbidden thrill of being taken like this in such a public space, made your pulse race.
“You love this, don’t you?” Joel growled, his breath hot against your ear. “Love how I finger fuck this needy little cunt. You’re gonna cum for me, baby. Cum all over my fingers like a good girl.”
His words sent you over the edge, the pleasure crashing through you like a tidal wave. You bit down hard on your lip, your body trembling, legs shaking as you came, your pussy clenching around his fingers as the orgasm hit you.
Joel didn’t stop, his fingers thrusting deeper, harder, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were a quivering mess, barely able to stay upright in your seat. His thumb pressed down hard on your clit, sending aftershocks of pleasure pulsing through you.
As you tried to catch your breath, Joel slowly pulled his fingers from your soaked heat, bringing them to his lips. He groaned, a low, filthy sound that made your whole body tingle.
“Damn,” he said loudly, smirking as he sucked his fingers clean. “That cake is good.”
Your heart nearly stopped as he spoke, your eyes widening in shock, but the rest of the table didn’t seem to notice the double meaning behind his words. They all laughed, assuming he was talking about the dessert in front of him, while you sat there, still trembling, trying to recover from the intensity of what just happened.
Joel’s eyes flickered to you, dark with satisfaction, and when he leaned back in his seat, his hand settled possessively on your thigh once again. “Good girl,” he whispered, his voice rough with approval. “You did so fuckin’ good. But this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”
And the look in his eyes promised that the night was just beginning.
· · ────
As the party finally wound down, the last guests said their goodbyes, spilling out into the cool evening. You stood by the door, forcing a tight smile, thanking them for coming while your mind buzzed with unspoken tension. Every fleeting glance toward Joel made your pulse quicken, a stark contrast to the exhaustion and bitterness that had built up throughout the night.
The garden was littered with empty glasses, plates, and discarded bits of the party, the chaos that your husband had insisted on throwing but, unsurprisingly, had done nothing to manage.
You sighed deeply, already dreading the cleanup. Your husband, now a few drinks past his limit, stumbled through the garden, slurring words to whoever was still unfortunate enough to be in earshot. He hadn’t lifted a finger all night, as usual, letting you handle everything while he made sure to drink more than anyone else.
Joel, in contrast, moved through the garden like a quiet force. Collecting glasses, stacking plates, helping with the cleanup in a way that felt so natural. His movements were purposeful, calm, and magnetic, making even the simple act of clearing a table seem like an extension of his strength. You couldn’t help but watch him, your body tingling at the sight of his rolled-up sleeves, those strong forearms flexing as he moved.
Every quiet glance he sent your way only deepened the longing inside you, a silent acknowledgment that he saw you—really saw you.
At one point, Joel leaned in close to hand you a tray, the scent of him—earthy and masculine—surrounding you as he whispered, “You’re not alone anymore, darlin’.” His voice was low, gravelly, a promise woven through every word.
A shiver ran down your spine, the quiet intensity of his words wrapping around your heart like a protective shield.
But as Joel disappeared inside to use the bathroom, you felt the air shift. The moment he was gone, your husband’s drunken presence loomed closer.
He had been stumbling around for the past hour, barking slurred orders at no one in particular, too drunk to even realize what an embarrassing display he was putting on. He was more than drunk—he was a ticking time bomb.
You stacked the last few plates when you felt it: the heavy, uneven footsteps approaching from behind. The hair on the back of your neck stood up as his presence pressed down on you.
“What the hell are you doing?” your husband’s voice slurred, thick with irritation and resentment. “Why is it taking you so goddamn long to clean up? Can’t even do something simple.”
You ignored him, focusing on the task in front of you, but it only made his frustration mount. His voice turned sharper, dripping with condescension. “Oh, I see. Just gonna ignore me, huh? Like you always do. After everything I’ve done for you, and you can’t even handle one fuckin’ party.”
He staggered closer, his breath sour with the stench of alcohol, the air between you heavy and tense. “You ungrateful bitch,” he spat, his voice louder now, full of venom. “You think you’re too good for me? Is that it? You can’t even look at me now?”
You froze, your heart pounding in your chest as the rage in his voice twisted tighter, crueler. His words felt like a slap, a reminder of how he had always managed to make you feel small, worthless. You kept your eyes down, trying to focus on anything but the suffocating tension, trying to keep your composure. But the anger in him was rising, boiling over.
“I said look at me when I’m talking to you!” he barked, his voice turning ugly as he stepped even closer, his body looming over yours. His face was flushed red, eyes wild with drunken rage. “Can’t even manage that, can you? Useless… that’s what you are. Always have been. Can’t do one fucking thing right.”
The words sliced through the air, sharp and venomous, and before you could react, he raised his hand slightly, a dangerous glint in his eyes that made your stomach drop. The fury in his expression was like nothing you’d seen before, and for a moment, the fear that he might actually hit you became very real.
Before he could do anything, a shadow loomed behind him, and you felt the shift in the air.
“Back the fuck off,” Joel’s voice was a low, dangerous growl, sharp and filled with restrained rage that sent a shiver down your spine.
His words were laced with a fury so thick it felt palpable, filling the space between the three of you. He stepped up behind your husband, towering over him with an intensity that made it clear—Joel wasn’t here to talk.
He was here to protect, to claim, and he would destroy anyone who stood in the way.
Your husband turned, stumbling slightly, his drunken swagger faltering as he tried to stand his ground. But there was no mistaking the fear that flickered in his eyes when he looked up at Joel—who, in contrast, was a force of nature.
His fists were clenched, his body coiled with enough tension that you knew it would only take one wrong move for him to snap.
“This isn’t your business,” your husband slurred, his voice wavering as he tried to sound tough, but the bravado was weak, and it was clear he knew it. He might have tried to act like he had control, but one look at Joel’s seething expression, and that confidence faltered.
Joel’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening as his nostrils flared. His eyes, dark and burning with fury, didn’t leave your husband’s face for a second.
“It became my business the second you thought you could put your hands on her,” he growled, stepping even closer until the two were nearly nose to nose. His voice, thick with raw protectiveness, made your heart race. “If you ever touch her again, I swear to God, I’ll fuckin’ ruin you.”
Your husband let out a bitter laugh, but it was shaky, his attempt to save face pathetic in the face of Joel’s quiet, simmering rage.
He staggered back a step, shaking his head before sneering at you both. “Oh, I see what’s goin’ on here,” he spat, his voice laced with venom.
“You’ve been fucking her, haven’t you? That’s what this is about?” His eyes darted between you and Joel, a cruel smile tugging at his lips.
“Tell me, Joel, did you feel how loose and boring she is? I bet she was a real disappointment, huh?”
Before you could even process his disgusting words, Joel’s fist connected with your husband’s face with a sickening crack.
The impact was swift and brutal, and your husband stumbled back, clutching his nose as blood dripped down his chin. Joel stood there, fists still clenched, chest heaving with anger, the air around him charged with a lethal energy.
“Stop!” you yelled, stepping forward, your voice sharp, cutting through the thick tension.
Joel froze, his eyes flicking to you, still blazing with fury but full of concern for you.
Silence fell over the garden, the only sound the shallow, ragged breaths of your husband as he staggered, dazed from the hit.
You walked slowly toward your husband, his eyes filled with confusion as he held his bloodied nose, clearly assuming you were going to stop Joel, to protect him.
But when you reached him, your face set in stone, you didn’t hesitate.
With all the pent-up anger and frustration that had been festering inside you for so long, you pulled back your fist and punched him—hard.
The sound of your fist connecting with his face echoed through the quiet garden, and your husband reeled, stumbling backward as shock registered in his eyes.
He stared at you, dumbfounded, as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened.
His hand shot up to his cheek, his mouth hanging open as he tried to process the fact that you—the woman he had treated like a doormat for so long—had just hit him.
“You… you hit me,” he stammered, his voice weak, his face twisted in disbelief.
“That’s right,” you spat, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and adrenaline. “I did. And you’re damn lucky that’s all I did after everything you’ve put me through.”
Your husband blinked, still stunned, and you took a deep breath, the years of silence finally cracking open inside you like a dam breaking.
The words poured out before you could stop them, raw and trembling.
“You have no idea how lonely I’ve been,” you whispered, your voice shaking as the weight of it all hit you.
“You don’t know what it’s like to feel invisible. To wake up every morning next to someone who doesn’t even see you. I used to beg for you to notice me—just a smile, a touch, anything to make me feel like I wasn’t completely alone. But you never did. Never once.”
Your voice broke, and you fought to keep the tears from spilling over, but the dam was already gone, and the hurt kept pouring out. “I gave you everything. Every part of me. And you just… took. You took until there was nothing left of me. Do you know what that’s like? To feel so empty that you don’t even recognize yourself anymore? To look in the mirror and not know who you are because all you’ve been doing for years is trying to keep someone else’s life together?”
You took a step closer, and your husband stumbled back slightly, the confusion and shock still etched on his face, but you didn’t stop. The words kept coming, like a wound that had been festering for years finally being ripped open.
“I used to think it was my fault. That if I could just be better, or prettier, or more fun, you might actually love me again. But I realize now… you never loved me. Not the real me. You loved the idea of me, the version that made your life easier. The one who cleaned up your messes, who stayed quiet while you drank yourself into oblivion, who pretended not to see when you looked at other women, when you lied to my face.”
Your voice cracked, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. “Do you know what it’s like to go to bed every night wondering if this is it? If this is all your life is ever going to be? Wondering why the person who’s supposed to love you the most can’t even bring himself to ask if you’re okay? I’ve spent years screaming inside, trying to get you to see me, but you never did.”
Tears streamed down your face, hot and unchecked, but you didn’t wipe them away. The pain was too raw, too suffocating to hold back any longer. Your voice trembled, your words thick with heartbreak as you finally let the truth spill out. “I was empty. So damn empty, and you never noticed. Not once.”
The ache in your chest deepened as the words left your lips. “You were so wrapped up in your own world, your own needs, that you never saw me breaking apart. I would lie next to you in bed, feeling more alone than I ever did when I was by myself.”
You swallowed hard, the tears making your voice hoarse but stronger. “I used to be alive. I used to have dreams. And then… you. You came in and made me believe that love meant sacrificing everything. That love meant shrinking myself, staying small so you could feel big.”
The tears continued to fall, but there was no stopping now. “I gave you everything, and you gave me nothing but empty promises and cold shoulders. I waited for you to see me, to really see me, but you never did. You didn’t even try. You never looked past what you wanted and into what I needed. I stayed up nights waiting for you to come home, hoping this time you’d talk to me like a partner, like someone who mattered. But all I ever got was silence. Silence and empty space where love was supposed to be.”
Your husband’s face went pale, the blood still dripping from his nose, but you didn’t care. He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off, your voice sharp, cutting through his pathetic attempts to muster an excuse.
“And the worst part?” you continued, your voice cracking with the weight of your sorrow. “The worst part is how long I convinced myself this was normal. That this was what love looked like. I thought that if I worked harder, if I could just be more patient, more understanding, that maybe you’d love me again. Maybe you’d remember who I was. But no. You just kept taking and I kept fading away until there was nothing left of me but a ghost in this house.”
You took a step closer, staring him dead in the eyes, the pain burning in your chest. “You made me feel like I wasn’t worth fighting for. Like I wasn’t worth anything. I was so fucking lonely, screaming inside for someone to save me, but you never came. You never gave a damn.”
His mouth opened again, but you weren’t finished. “No. You don’t get to speak. You don’t get to tell me it wasn’t that bad, or that I’m overreacting. Because you weren’t there. You never were. I’ve been doing this alone for so long, I forgot what it felt like to have someone who actually gives a shit. And now… now I’m done pretending.”
You wiped your eyes, your voice steadying as you spoke the final words that had been weighing on you for years. “I’m done living this half-life. I’m done waiting for something that will never come. You don’t own me. You never did. I’m not your shadow, I’m not your convenience, and I’m not your victim anymore. I deserve more. I deserve love. And you… you’ll never be capable of giving that.”
The silence that followed was suffocating. Your husband stood there, shell-shocked, his face twisted in disbelief, his hand still clutching his bloodied nose. He had no words, no defense for what you had just said.
For the first time, he looked small, like the empty, hollow man he had always been.
You took one last deep breath, your heart racing with both fear and relief. “I’m leaving, and there’s nothing you can say to stop me. I’m reclaiming my life, and I’m not looking back.”
As you reached the end of your words, something raw and unfiltered clawed its way to the surface. The years of frustration, of being neglected not only emotionally but physically, boiled over. You stopped in your tracks, your body trembling with the last surge of anger that had been buried for too long.
You turned back, eyes blazing, your voice rising with a mix of fury and bitterness as you screamed, “And you never once made me cum! It’s hard to be fun when you’ve been looking for my clit for four fucking years!”
The words hit him like a slap, and for the first time, you saw him truly speechless—stunned, humiliated. His face paled, his mouth hanging open, but he had nothing. No snarky comeback, no excuse. Just the weight of your truth hanging in the air, cutting through the night like a knife.
Without waiting for his response, you turned and walked toward Joel, who had been standing nearby, his face dark with anger but softening as you approached. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his strong, steady embrace, his hand resting firmly against your back, grounding you in the reality that you were no longer trapped.
“You ready?” Joel asked, his voice a low rumble filled with both protectiveness and admiration.
You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper, but filled with a sense of freedom you hadn’t felt in years. “Yeah. I’m ready.”
You walked away with Joel, leaving behind the remnants of your broken past. With each step, the weight lifted from your shoulders, lighter and lighter, until you could breathe again.
The pain was still there, the scars from years of neglect and loneliness etched into your heart, but now—finally—you were free. Free to be seen. Free to be loved. Free to be whole again. And as Joel’s arm wrapped around you protectively, you knew you were walking toward something new, something real.
And you weren’t walking alone.
· · ────
You and Joel walked toward his truck, the night air felt cooler, like a breath of relief after the storm. The intensity of everything that had just happened lingered in the air between you, heavy and electric.
Joel hadn’t said much, but his presence was solid, grounding you as your emotions swirled inside—rage, heartbreak, and an overwhelming sense of freedom.
When you reached his truck, the reality of the moment hit you all at once. You were leaving it all behind—the years of loneliness, the pain, the person who never saw you.
And here was Joel, the man who had seen you, stood up for you, fought for you. He had protected your honor without hesitation, and now, as he opened the door to his truck for you, the weight of his quiet strength was impossible to ignore.
The emotions welled up inside you—gratitude, relief, desire. You turned to him, your heart pounding, and before you could think, you stepped toward him, your hands reaching up to pull him closer. Joel’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t hesitate. His hand came up to cradle the back of your head, his touch gentle but firm, and in that moment, you couldn’t hold back anymore.
You kissed him. Deeply. Fiercely.
It wasn’t a soft kiss; it was full of everything you had been holding inside for so long. The passion, the desperation, the need to feel alive, to feel wanted. Your lips pressed against his, and he responded instantly, his other hand wrapping around your waist, pulling you tightly against him. The kiss was a collision of all the emotions you both carried—his protectiveness, your desire, the mutual recognition that this was right.
Joel kissed you like he had been waiting for this moment forever, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that made your heart race. You could feel the tension of the night melt away, replaced by the heat building between you, his breath mingling with yours as he deepened the kiss, his grip tightening slightly around your waist.
The world around you faded, the only thing that mattered was the feel of his lips, the warmth of his body pressed against yours. Your hands moved up into his hair, pulling him even closer, not wanting the moment to end. It was more than just a kiss—it was an affirmation, a promise that you weren’t alone anymore.
When you finally pulled back, breathless, your forehead rested against his, both of you still holding each other tightly. Joel’s eyes were dark, filled with a mixture of desire and something deeper—something that made your heart swell.
“I’ve got you, darlin’,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. “Always.”
· · ────
As Joel drove down the dark, empty road, the tension between you was thick and electric. You couldn’t stop thinking about him—how fiercely he had defended you, how protective he had been. Every inch of him radiated strength, and the need inside you was unbearable. You needed to feel him, taste him, let him fill the aching void that had been growing all night.
Without a second thought, you leaned over, your lips pressing against the side of his neck. You could feel his pulse quicken under your touch, his skin warm and rough with stubble. “Baby,” Joel growled, his voice low and strained as he kept his eyes on the road. “Slow down, you’ve been through so much tonight.”
But you couldn’t stop yourself, couldn’t resist the heat building between you. “I don’t care,” you whispered, your breath hot against his neck as your hands moved down, trailing over his chest and then lower to his lap. “I need you, Joel. Please, let me take care of you.” Your voice was full of need, thick with desperation as your lips trailed down to his collarbone.
Joel groaned softly as you kissed down his neck, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses along the column of his throat. You could feel the heat radiating from him, his body tense under your touch as your lips continued to explore every inch of skin you could reach.
“Fuck, I can’t wait anymore,” you whimpered, your voice thick with urgency as you pressed your lips against the hard bulge straining against the rough fabric of his jeans. The heat of him was intoxicating, the pressure of his cock beneath your lips sending a fresh wave of arousal through your body. “Please, Joel… I need you. I need to taste you, to feel you on my tongue.”
You kissed him again, harder this time, your lips dragging over his clothed cock as you looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Let me suck your cock, Joel. Please. I’ll be so good for you. I’ll take you so deep, baby. I need it so bad, I can’t stand it anymore.”
Your breath was hot against him, your lips moving up and down his clothed length as you kissed and licked over the thick bulge, tasting the rough fabric but craving the feel of him, hot and heavy, against your tongue. “Please, baby,” you begged, your voice almost a whimper. “I need it. I need to feel you in my mouth, to taste every inch of you. Let me make you feel good.”
Your hands roamed over his thighs, squeezing gently as you continued to kiss and worship his cock through his jeans. “I’ve been waiting for this,” you whispered between kisses, your lips brushing the head of his clothed cock. “Dreaming about having you in my mouth, tasting you. I need to feel you filling my mouth, baby. Please. Please let me suck your cock.”
You could feel him twitch beneath the fabric, his restraint slipping as you licked him through his jeans, teasing him, your breath hot and needy against him. “I’ll be so good to you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desire. “I’ll take you deep, I promise. Let me feel you on my tongue, Joel. I’ll make you feel so fucking good. Please… I need it so bad.”
Joel’s breath hitched, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as your hand slipped inside his jeans, finding his thick, hard cock waiting for you. “Jesus, darlin’,” he muttered through clenched teeth, trying to focus on the road. “You’re gonna drive me fuckin’ crazy.”
You licked your lips, not wasting a second as you freed him from his jeans, his cock thick and heavy in your hand, already leaking precum. You leaned down, licking the head, tasting the saltiness of him as you swirled your tongue around the tip. Joel groaned loudly, his hips jerking slightly as you teased him.
“Fuck,” he hissed, his voice strained. “You really want this, don’t ya?”
“Fuck, look at you,” Joel groaned, his voice full of filthy praise. “Suckin’ me so fuckin’ good, just like you said. You love this cock, don���t you? Been waitin’ to taste it, to feel it stretchin’ that tight mouth of yours.”
You whimpered in response, taking him deeper, your lips stretched tight around his thick length as you bobbed your head, sucking harder, your tongue flicking over the sensitive underside of his cock. His groans filled the truck, dark and full of possession, as if he couldn’t believe he had you like this, your mouth worshipping him.
“Yeah, baby, just like that,” Joel panted, his hand slipping from the wheel to thread through your hair, guiding your movements.
You moaned softly in response, taking him deeper into your mouth, sucking him in slow, deliberate strokes. You hollowed your cheeks, letting your tongue tease the sensitive underside of his cock as you moved up and down, your hand stroking the base in time with your mouth. The weight of him felt perfect, and you wanted to taste every inch.
“Goddamn, baby,” Joel growled, his voice thick with need. “You feel so fuckin’ good. Keep goin’, just like that.”
“That’s it, darlin’, fuck, you’re so good at this,” Joel growled, his hips bucking slightly into your mouth, fucking your throat just a little harder now. “You’re gonna take it all, aren’t ya? Every last fuckin’ inch. This cock is yours now, baby. You gotta take care of it.”
His grip tightened in your hair as he guided you, pushing you down further, groaning as he felt the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. You gagged slightly, but it only spurred you on, your tongue swirling around him as you took him deeper.
“You’re so fuckin’ dirty, beggin’ for it like this,” Joel grunted, his voice thick with possession. “You love it, don’t ya? Love feelin’ me fillin’ that sweet mouth of yours. You’re mine now, baby. No one else is ever gonna touch you again. You’re all fuckin’ mine.”
You moaned around his cock, the vibrations making him twitch in your mouth. You wanted more—you wanted to take all of him. Without hesitating, you moved lower, letting your tongue trail down his shaft to his balls, licking and sucking them gently. Joel’s breath hitched, his body tensing as you lavished attention on his balls, your hands still stroking his cock as your tongue teased the sensitive skin.
“Shit,” Joel gasped, his voice rough as his hips bucked. “You’re fuckin’ incredible… that mouth of yours…”
You sucked one of his balls into your mouth, letting it fill your cheeks as your tongue swirled around it slowly, savoring every second. Your hand still worked his thick cock, stroking him steadily, feeling him pulse in your grip as his body tensed.
Joel’s breathing had turned ragged, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he tried to keep the truck steady. The raw desire that radiated from him only made you hungrier for more.
You moved your lips lower, taking his other ball into your mouth, your tongue gently massaging him, your mouth hot and wet as you worshipped him. “Fuck, Joel,” you whimpered, your voice muffled by the weight of him. “I love the way you taste… I want all of you in my mouth. Let me feel it. Let me swallow it all, baby. Please, I need to taste you.”
Joel groaned low in his throat, his hips bucking slightly as your tongue traced the sensitive skin of his balls. “Goddamn, baby… you’re so fuckin’ filthy. So desperate for my cock, aren’t you?” His voice was rough, strained, and dripping with satisfaction. “You’re finally mine now, huh? That sweet mouth of yours… all fuckin’ mine.”
You moaned around his balls, the vibrations sending a jolt of pleasure through him, making him twitch in your hand. You stroked him faster, your fingers curling around the base of his cock as your mouth worked him over, licking and sucking every inch of him. The scent of him, the taste of him—it was overwhelming, and you couldn’t get enough. You wanted him to fall apart for you, to feel how much you craved him.
You pulled back for a second, pressing wet kisses along the length of his cock, trailing your tongue from the base to the tip before dipping back down to his balls. “Please, Joel,” you begged again, your voice trembling with desperation. “I want to feel you cum in my mouth, baby. I need to swallow every drop, to taste all of you. I need you so fucking bad.”
Joel’s breath hitched, his cock throbbing in your hand as you sucked his balls back into your mouth, gently massaging them with your tongue, taking your time to worship every inch of him. He let out a low growl, his voice filled with lust. “You want me to fill that pretty little mouth of yours, don’t ya?” he rasped, his hips lifting slightly, pressing himself deeper into your mouth. “Fuck… you’re finally all mine, baby. Gonna make sure you never forget it.”
You moaned around him again, your hand pumping his cock faster as your tongue worked over his sensitive head, wet and hot. The weight of him in your mouth, the taste of his skin—it made your whole body ache with need. You wanted to please him, to make him lose control, to take him over the edge. You needed it, craved it like nothing else.
“You love this, don’t you?” Joel groaned, his voice thick with possession. “Suckin’ my balls like a good girl… takin’ my cock so fuckin’ deep. You’re mine now, aren’t ya?”
You pulled back just enough to whisper, “Yes, Joel. I’m yours. All yours. I’ll do anything for you.”
Without waiting for his response, you wrapped your lips around his cock again, taking him deep into your mouth, your hand working the base as your tongue swirled around the head. You sucked him harder, your mouth moving in perfect rhythm with your hand, and you could feel the tension building in his body, his cock throbbing as he neared the edge.
“Fuck, baby,” Joel growled, his voice thick with need. “I’m gonna cum… I’m gonna fill that perfect mouth of yours, and you’re gonna swallow every fuckin’ drop.”
You moaned in response, your mouth working him faster, your hand stroking him harder as you felt him pulse in your mouth. His grip tightened on your hair, guiding your movements as he bucked his hips, fucking your throat in short, sharp thrusts.
“Take it all, baby,” Joel groaned, his voice rough with pleasure as he came, his cock throbbing as he spilled into your mouth, hot and thick. You swallowed greedily, your lips wrapped tightly around him, taking everything he had to give, your tongue swirling around the head as you drained him completely.
“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice hoarse and full of satisfaction. “That’s it, baby… take every last bit.”
Joel’s breath was still ragged as he came down from the high, but when you tried to move, his hand stayed firm in your hair. “Not so fast, baby,” he growled softly, the dark possessiveness in his voice making your heart race. “Clean me up real slow, now. Real gentle.”
His cock, still glistening and sensitive, twitched as he guided your head back toward it, his fingers threading through your hair. “Yeah… that’s it,” Joel muttered, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Lick up every drop, baby. You’ve gotta take care of what’s yours now, huh? This cock’s all yours, so show me how good you can be.”
Your tongue flicked out, gently running over his shaft, cleaning him up just like he wanted, savoring the musky taste of his release. Joel’s grip on your hair loosened slightly, but he was still guiding you, his voice low and filthy as he watched you work.
“Hmm, yeah… now the balls again,” he whispered, his tone coaxing, yet commanding. “You love those, don’t you? Go ahead, baby. Show ‘em some love.”
You eagerly obeyed, sucking one of his balls into your mouth, rolling it gently with your tongue, while your hand continued to stroke his still-hard cock. Joel groaned, his fingers tightening in your hair as he let out a deep, satisfied growl.
“Fuck, that’s my girl,” he rasped, his breath heavy with desire. “Takin’ care of me so fuckin’ good. You’re such a good girl, aren’t ya?”
You hummed in response, letting your mouth worship every inch of him, moving between his balls and his cock, savoring the way he throbbed under your touch. Joel’s low grunts of approval sent shivers through you, making you ache for more.
“Good job, baby,” he murmured, his voice husky as you finished, licking him clean. “Such a good girl, makin’ sure this cock’s taken care of. This is yours now—every inch of it. No one else’s. Gotta make sure it’s ready whenever you need it.”
You pulled back slowly, meeting his gaze with a breathless smile. His cock was still wet from your attention, twitching slightly, and you could see the fire still burning in his dark eyes.
Joel reached down, brushing his thumb across your lips, smirking at the sight of you kneeling before him. “All clean, baby. You did good. So fuckin’ good,” he said, his voice filled with possessive pride. “This is what a real man gives you, huh? What you deserve.”
His thumb slipped inside your mouth, and you sucked on it gently, your eyes never leaving his, still drunk on the power of what you’d just shared. Joel’s hand slid down your cheek, cupping your face, his voice dropping to a possessive murmur.
"Yeah… you’re mine now. Gonna fuck you whenever I want, fill you up however I want," Joel growled, his voice dark and full of lust. “Don’t forget—you belong to me now, baby. This cock’s yours, but you’re mine.”
As Joel’s breath finally steadied, his hand released its tight grip on you, and a low chuckle rumbled from his chest. His eyes flickered down to you, dark with a mix of lust and admiration, while his other hand remained firm on the steering wheel, still guiding the truck along the winding road.
“All that,” he murmured, his voice rough and teasing, “while I’m still makin’ sure we survive this damn drive.”
You wiped the corner of your mouth, smiling up at him, the taste of him still fresh on your tongue. The hum of the engine and the rhythmic pulse of the road beneath the tires kept you grounded in reality, but the fire between you burned even brighter.
Joel shifted slightly in his seat, his cock still twitching from the aftermath. “You’re somethin’ else, baby,” he growled softly, his hand brushing against your thigh possessively, fingers lingering just to remind you that this was far from over. “But I ain’t done with you yet. When we stop, I’m gonna make sure you feel every inch of me. All night.”
You smiled to yourself, knowing full well that the night was far from over. The tension still hummed in the air, thick and heady, as Joel drove on, the road stretching out ahead of you like the beginning of something you both had waited far too long for.
· · ────
8 months later.
The sun had just started to dip below the horizon, casting a warm, golden light across Joel’s living room, illuminating the soft textures of the couch beneath you as you lay there, soaking in the quiet comfort of your surroundings. The room felt peaceful, but there was something more—something that wrapped around you like a blanket of gratitude. You had never felt this kind of peace before, this kind of contentment.
You lay back, resting your head against a cushion as you watched Joel and Sarah from across the room, both of them caught up in some playful argument over something silly. Sarah was laughing, her face bright with amusement as she playfully swatted at Joel’s arm. Joel, pretending to be exasperated, let out an exaggerated sigh, but you could see the smile tugging at his lips as he grabbed a pillow and tossed it gently in Sarah’s direction.
“Watch it, old man!” Sarah teased, dodging the pillow as she laughed.
“Old man?” Joel shot back, his eyebrows raising in mock offense. “I’ll show you ‘old man,’ kid.”
The two of them wrestled and teased each other, their laughter filling the room, and you couldn’t help but smile as you watched them. This was your life now—this warmth, this love. It still felt surreal, like you were living in a dream you hadn’t quite woken from yet. How had you gotten here? How had you found something so precious after so many years of feeling lost and unseen?
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, not from sadness, but from pure gratitude. This was everything you had ever wanted—family, love, and the feeling of being seen. You wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand, letting the joy wash over you as you continued to watch them play fight, their laughter like music in the background.
Eight months ago, this life had seemed impossible.
Eight months ago, you were trapped. The woman you were back then was unrecognizable now—desperate, aching for a way out, for someone to see her, for someone to care. You had spent years in a marriage that had drained you, years trying to be someone you weren’t, trying to make something work that had been broken from the start.
The divorce had been a long time coming, but that didn’t make it any easier. You remembered the fear that had clawed at you as you walked into that courtroom, the uncertainty of leaving behind something that had been your entire life for so long. But Joel had been there with you, steady and solid. He had never wavered, and just knowing he was there had made the difference.
The memory of that day was still so clear. You had walked out of that courthouse feeling lighter, feeling free. And then—Joel. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the memory wash over you like a wave.
You had barely made it out of the courtroom, the finality of the judge’s ruling still ringing in your ears when the weight of everything hit you. It was like a rush of adrenaline, a mixture of relief and fear and something electric that sparked deep inside you. You had glanced at Joel, his steady presence grounding you, but the look in his eyes—dark, full of unspoken things—had sent a shiver down your spine.
Without thinking, you had grabbed his hand and pulled him into the nearest bathroom, the door slamming shut behind you. Your heart had been pounding in your chest, the rush of emotions swirling in your mind, but it had been the desire—the need—that took over. The need to feel alive, to feel like you had control over your life again.
Joel hadn’t hesitated. His hands had been on you in an instant, pulling you against him as his lips crashed into yours. “Fuck, baby,” he had growled against your mouth, his voice thick with lust. “You’re finally mine.”
His words had sent a bolt of heat through you, your fingers already fumbling with his belt, desperate to feel him. You hadn’t cared that it was reckless, that anyone could walk in. All you had cared about was the way his hands gripped your waist, the way he pressed you up against the bathroom stall, his breath hot against your neck.
You whimpered as his hands slid up your thighs, pushing your skirt up in one swift motion. His touch was rough, urgent, but filled with a possessive tenderness that made your head spin. “He didn’t deserve you,” Joel muttered against your neck, his lips brushing your skin as his hands yanked your panties down. “Never fuckin’ deserved you. But I do. I’m gonna show you what it feels like to be with a real man.”
Your breath hitched as he spun you around, pressing your chest against the cold metal door, his fingers slipping between your legs to find you already soaking wet. “Fuck, baby,” Joel groaned, his voice thick with desire. “You’re so wet for me already. Bet you’ve been waitin’ for this.”
“Please,” you whimpered, pushing your hips back toward him, desperate for him to fill you. “I need you, Joel. I can’t wait anymore.”
He chuckled darkly, his fingers teasing your slick folds before pulling away. You heard the sound of his zipper, then the heat of his cock pressing against your entrance. “You were too fuckin’ good for him,” Joel growled, his breath hot against your ear as he gripped your hips. “But now you’re mine, baby. You belong to me.”
Without warning, he thrust into you, filling you in one deep, rough stroke. You gasped, your hands bracing against the door as Joel’s cock stretched you, his pace immediately hard and fast. He wasn’t holding back, and you didn’t want him to.
“Goddamn, baby,” Joel groaned, his voice rough and low as he fucked into you. “You feel so fuckin’ good. So tight around me. No one’s ever gonna touch you again. You understand?”
You moaned, your body trembling as he drove into you harder, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. “Yes,” you gasped, your voice breathless. “Joel—oh God, you feel so good. No one’s ever—”
“Damn right,” Joel growled, cutting you off as his hand slid down between your legs, his fingers finding your clit. “He never touched you like this, did he? Never fucked you like you deserved. But I’m gonna make you cum so fuckin’ hard, you won’t remember his name. Everyday.”
His fingers rubbed tight, deliberate circles on your clit, and your body arched against him, your legs trembling as you felt yourself getting closer and closer. “Joel,” you whimpered, your hands gripping the door for support. “I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna cum—”
“Cum for me, baby,” Joel groaned, his voice rough and demanding. “Show me who this pussy belongs to.”
With a cry, you came hard around his cock, your entire body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. Joel didn’t slow down, his pace becoming erratic as he chased his own release.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice thick with possession. “I’m gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna fuckin’ pump you full. Make sure you never forget who owns you now.”
With one final, deep thrust, Joel groaned loudly, spilling inside you, his cock pulsing as he filled you with his cum. The heat of him filling you made your head spin, your body still trembling as he leaned against you, catching his breath.
His hands slid up your sides, his touch softer now, his lips pressing gentle kisses to the back of your neck. “You’re mine now,” he murmured, his voice thick with both lust and something deeper, something softer. “No one else is ever gonna touch you. I’ll treat you so fuckin’ good, baby. You’ll never want for anything again.”
The memory faded as you blinked back into the present, the warmth of the room bringing you back to the reality of now. But the echoes of that courthouse moment still lingered, like a secret you shared with Joel, one that shaped everything between you.
You realized, belatedly, that both Joel and Sarah had stopped their playful banter and were looking at you, concern in their eyes. Joel stood there, his brows furrowed slightly, and Sarah had that soft, inquisitive look she wore when she was worried.
“Everything okay?” Joel asked, his voice low and gentle as he took a small step toward you.
Sarah shot him a quick look before turning back to you, her eyes wide and warm. “You look sad,” she said softly. Then, without another word, she launched herself across the room, flopping dramatically onto the couch and onto your lap, her arms wrapping around you in a tight hug.
The sudden weight of Sarah’s embrace, the way she was trying to comfort you in her own dramatic way, made you laugh, and the sound broke through the heaviness of the moment. “I’m not sad, honey,” you said, your voice soft and warm as you hugged her back. “I’m just… thinking.”
Joel’s eyes softened as he watched the two of you, the corner of his mouth twitching into a small smile. He crossed the room, sitting down beside you on the couch, his hand finding its place on your thigh as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.
Sarah, always the observer, sat up and shot Joel a mischievous grin. “You better cuddle her too, Dad,” she teased, though the way she said it made it clear she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
Joel chuckled, his arm sliding around your shoulders as he tugged you closer, his lips brushing lightly against your cheek. “She’s right,” he murmured, his voice a deep rumble. “What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours, darlin’? You seemed miles away.”
You leaned into the warmth of Joel’s body, resting your head on his shoulder as you let out a soft sigh. “I was just… thinking about everything. About the day we finalized the divorce,” you admitted, your voice quiet. “About how different everything is now.”
Sarah wiggled herself into your lap, cuddling into your chest as she peered up at you. “You’re happy now though, right?” she asked, her voice small but sure.
You looked down at her, a wave of emotion swelling in your chest as you ran your fingers through her hair. “So happy,” you whispered, the words thick with truth. “I wouldn’t change this for anything.”
Joel kissed the top of your head, his arm tightening around you. “You don’t ever have to look back again, baby,” he said softly, his voice full of the quiet reassurance you’d come to love so much. “You’re right where you belong now, with us.”
You smiled, feeling the overwhelming warmth of their love wrap around you, and you pressed a soft kiss to Sarah’s forehead before turning to Joel. “I know,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss him, your lips brushing against his in a slow, tender moment.
Joel kissed you back, soft and lingering, his hand gently cupping your cheek. His thumb brushed over your skin, and when he pulled away, he smiled, his eyes searching yours with a warmth that made your heart swell. “You’re our family now,” he murmured, his voice soft but filled with conviction. “And we’re gonna keep makin’ sure you’re happy. Always.”
Sarah squirmed between the two of you, giggling at the closeness, clearly teasing but with a smile that lit up her entire face. “Okay, okay! I get it, you guys love each other,” she laughed, wriggling out of your lap and stretching her arms out. “But don’t go all mushy on me now.”
You and Joel both chuckled, the sound blending with the easy warmth that had filled the room. You reached out, ruffling Sarah’s hair playfully, and her mock annoyance only made you smile wider. Joel’s deep chuckle rumbled next to you, his arm wrapped around your waist, drawing you a little closer.
But as the moment settled, Joel leaned in, his voice dropping low so only you could hear, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Later tonight, though,” he whispered, his tone thick with promise, “I’ll remind you just how much I love you. Can’t wait to get you all alone, baby.”
You felt a flush of heat bloom over your skin, your heart racing at the teasing edge in Joel’s voice. His hand slipped down to your hip, squeezing gently, and though his gaze was soft, the intensity in his words sent a shiver through you.
But as the warmth of the moment settled around you, a wave of emotion washed over you, deeper than anything physical. Tears welled up in your eyes, not from sadness, but from the overwhelming happiness you never thought you’d feel again. It wasn’t just about desire—it was about being seen, about being loved in a way that made you feel whole.
You blinked quickly, trying to keep the tears at bay, but they weren’t tears of pain or regret. They were the kind that come when you realize you’ve found the place you belong, the kind that make you feel grounded and safe. You felt Joel’s arm tighten around you, as if he could sense your emotions without you saying a word, and when you glanced up at him, his eyes were filled with nothing but love.
“You okay, baby?” Joel asked softly, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek again, the warmth in his gaze steady and comforting.
You nodded, smiling through the tears, your heart swelling with gratitude for the life you had now. “I’m more than okay,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I’m just… so happy. I didn’t think I could feel like this again.”
Sarah, still nestled beside you, glanced up, catching the tearful look on your face and frowning in concern. “Are you crying?” she asked, her voice soft but curious.
You let out a small laugh, ruffling her hair again as you quickly wiped away a tear. “I’m crying because I’m happy,” you assured her, your voice trembling slightly. “I’m so lucky to have you both.”
Sarah’s face brightened with a smile, and she wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug, her warmth spreading through you like a blanket. Joel leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, and the quiet, comforting presence of him grounded you even further.
In that moment, surrounded by the two people who had become your everything, you knew this was what it meant to be truly loved, to be seen. And you couldn’t imagine your life any other way.
Joel’s hand squeezed yours gently, his eyes filled with that same warmth that always made your heart race. “We’re the lucky ones, baby,” he said quietly, his voice low and tender. “Don’t know what we’d do without you.”
Sarah, sensing the emotional weight of the moment, smiled up at you before wrapping her arms around you again. “You’re stuck with us now!” she teased, her tone light, but the meaning behind her words was clear. She meant it, and you felt it—this was where you were meant to be.
You let out a small laugh, feeling a deep warmth settle in your chest. For so long, you had been lost in a life that didn’t belong to you, stuck in a marriage where you felt invisible, forgotten. But now, sitting here with Joel and Sarah, you realized just how far you’d come. You had broken free from that prison, taken control of your own story, and allowed yourself to be loved and seen in a way you never thought possible.
Life can change, you thought. Sometimes, all it takes is one decision—a choice to put yourself first, to demand more, to refuse to settle for anything less than what you deserve. You had once believed that you were trapped, that your life was set in stone, but you now knew better. You had the power to change things, to rewrite your story, and to choose happiness.
Joel’s arm tightened around you, pulling you even closer as Sarah continued to chatter about her day, her laughter filling the room. You smiled, feeling the love in the air, the sense of belonging that had once felt so foreign to you.
“Situations change,” you whispered softly, almost to yourself, but Joel heard you. His lips pressed gently against your temple, a quiet reminder of his unwavering presence by your side.
“They do,” he murmured, his voice warm and filled with pride. “And you had the strength to change yours.”
You nodded, resting your head against his shoulder, feeling the weight of those words settle deep within you. You had the power to make the change—to walk away from what no longer served you, to embrace the love and the life you knew you deserved. And now, as you sat there with the two people who meant the world to you, you realized that every struggle, every tear, had been worth it.
It wasn’t always easy, and there had been moments when you doubted yourself, moments when you wondered if you were making the right choice. But looking at Joel and Sarah now, you knew—without a doubt—that you were exactly where you were meant to be.
This was your new beginning. And it was beautiful.
As the evening light continued to fade, wrapping your home in a soft, golden glow, you closed your eyes and smiled. You had the power to shape your future, and this… this was just the start of something wonderful.
· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··
#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal#joel miller x you#joel miller x female reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x oc#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fan fic#the last of us#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal x reader#Joel Miller x reader#Joel Miller x you#Joel Miller x female reader#Joel Miller x f!reader#Joel Miller smut#Joel Miller#Joel Miller fic#Joel Miller fanfic#Joel Miller fanfiction#the last of us hbo#tlou#tlou hbo#the last of us smut#tlou smut#tlou fic#tlou fanfic
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
enha to chase | hyung line
summary: short (smutty) drabbles of enhypen hyung line inspired by chase atlantic songs.
warnings: smut, one-night stand (heeseung), misunderstanding (heeseung), high sex, drunk sex (jay & jake), semi-public sex (jake), infidelity (sunghoon), toxic relationship (sunghoon), angst, unprotected sex, stomach bulge (jay).
note: my two fave boy bands in the world are enhypen and chase atlantic so i decided to join the two. this is my first time writing short drabbles too so this was very unusual but fun. these are just based off the general vibes of the song, so the story might not fully match the lyrics. btw this fic format is inspired by @wh1msic4lwasab1, so credit to their incredible writing 🖤
wc: 1.9k
heeseung — her (phases)
she said "we can do whatever you want, you could fuck me in the back of your car" but i won't ever get to stay with her, 'cause all i ever had was one day with her
Heeseung knew he would regret this day for the rest of his life, but you were so addicting that it was making him act like a moron.
The car was shaking from your rough movements, and the windows were fogging up, both from the heavy breathing and the pouring rain from the outside. Heeseung sat in the back as you straddled his lap and bounced up and down on his cock desperately.
His hands were on your waist, helping you guide your movements, and in all honesty, you weren’t particularly graceful with them.
In the beginning, you were incredible. You were riding him like a wave, and the movement of your hips was making Heeseung see stars, but it was becoming all too exhausting now, trying to keep up with his stamina. You’ve already cum once, and your pussy felt sensitive and puffy, causing your movements to become choppy.
“Slow down, Y/N,” he groaned, having the urge to take control.
You shook your head, making your hair fall on your face. You whined desperately, “Hee…baby. I have to make you cum. Let me.” You then leaned back slightly and rested your hands on his knees in a futile attempt to help you keep going.
Your mind was feeling hazy at the feeling of his cock filling you up, and you were angry at your body as you could feel another orgasm approaching while Heeseung was still not even close.
Before you could keep going, Heeseung swiftly flipped you over so you were on your hands and knees and started roughly slamming into you. Your whines were becoming louder, and you were sure that if anyone were to be passing by, they would hear your obscene noises.
Your face was now pressed against the leather seat, and you cried out as you felt your orgasm wash over you, just a bit before Heeseung spilt his seed inside you, coating your walls with his cum.
You couldn’t believe he did that, given this was only a one-time thing, but it felt so good you couldn’t bring yourself to think straight. Heeseung kept thrusting in and out of you, and you whined from the overstimulation.
Every time he pushed himself inside you, he moved his cum deeper and deeper inside your cunt, and you felt yourself being addicted to the feeling.
You knew you would regret this day for the rest of your life. Heeseung and you both knew you were making a massive mistake.
You were afraid of what was going to happen after the two of you left this car. You agreed with Heeseung to a one-night stand to help relieve your stress, but your relationship would never be the same after this.
Especially as Heeseung was always in love with you, and his heart clenched at the thought you would never be his.
jay — slide (beauty in death)
i don't wanna say that i'm god, but, i'll take you to heaven if you die [...] lying to me baby, make it worth it, make me earn it, they don't deserve you
It was the first time you’d ever gotten high, and you weren’t doing particularly well. You were both sleepy yet also hyper-aware and entirely too horny for your own good. You were sure Jay was embarrassed by how you were acting at the party, but in reality, he found it all too adorable.
“Jaybird,” you remembered telling him as you clumsily grabbed the collar of his shirt. You thought you were whispering, but all of Jay’s friends could hear you.
“Yes, baby?” He said, his palms rubbing over your arms to help soothe you.
“Please,” you said in a desperate voice, clenching your hands on the fabric of his shirt.
“Please what?”
“Please… Please let's get out so you can fuck me. I need you, please. I need your dick,” you whined. Your eyes were practically sparkling with tears, and you didn’t notice the way Heeseung and Sunghoon busted out in laughter at your words.
It was a blur after that, and you remember somehow ending up in an empty bedroom with your clothes gone and Jay’s chest pressed up against your back. His touch felt so soft and soothing, and he held you and kissed you as though you were going to break.
He was always soft with you, but especially now, he was ever so careful and gentle, even in the way he slowly split open your cunt with his throbbing cock. No matter how slowly he went with you, however, you still felt sensitive from how deep inside you he was.
He couldn’t see your face as you lay on your side, but he could tell you were still out of it.
“Ahh…’m sorry, Jay. I’m really sorry for embarrassing you,” you said in between your moans. You loved when he fucked you in this position because you could feel him so intensely.
He placed a kiss on the back of your head and said, “Don’t be stupid now, darling.” He could never be embarrassed by you. If he were honest, he loved how bold you were tonight, as he was used to you being timid when it came to sex.
He had learnt to know the signs of when you got horny, like when you would make puppy eyes at him or when you would clench your legs discreetly, and although he didn’t mind it, he liked this version of you as well.
He reached over to the lower part of your belly and pressed his palms against it, his mind going haywire at the feeling of his cock creating a bulge inside you. It was like you were perfectly made for him.
You gasped as he started quickening his pace. “So good for me, darling,” he grunted as he kept slamming into you. “My sweet thing, you’re doing so well.”
jake — die for me (lost in heaven)
you know how i love it when you ride on me, oh, lord, i'm in the water, take a dive on me [...] good god, she's on the floor, rollin' her eyes at me, oh
It was fucking freezing, but Jake’s body heat was making it ever so slightly bearable. The sounds of your skin slapping against each other were filling the air, and you two had no care in the world as you fucked each other on the sand with the rushing water behind you.
Neither of you was thinking straight. You were both drunk off vodka, sopping wet after a skinny dipping session, and exhausted from the long night. Jake, however, made sure to put a towel underneath you, ever the gentleman that he was.
In fact, he was such a gentleman that he wasn’t patient enough to get you home and had to fuck you right there on the beach.
“It’s fine, princess. Do you really think anyone is up this late?” You remembered him saying.
You were nervous at first and terrified at the prospect of someone coming to catch you, but it didn’t take much convincing for you to get on your knees and start sucking on his cock out in the open.
All Jake had to do was flash his eyes that glinted in the moonlight and tell you how much he wanted you.
Jake could tell how much you enjoyed being out in the open like this. While your mouth was wrapped around him and bobbing up and down desperately, all he could focus on was how flushed your face was and how you were palming at your pussy to give yourself relief. Your eyes were rolled back, and you were taking him deeper than ever.
You were loving it.
You desperately wanted him to finish in your mouth, but Jake felt impatient and pushed you down on the towel, and now here you were grabbing at Jake’s back as he plummeted inside you.
“Fuck, Jakey, just like that,” you moaned as you felt him hit just the right spot within your walls. Your skin felt so cold, but his cock felt so warm inside you. The contrast was making you feel lightheaded.
“You’re such a dirty girl,” he groaned from above as he split you open with his cock. Everything felt so heightened. You weren’t particularly a risk-taker when it came to sex, but Jake loved the exhilaration of moments like these.
He still remembers the time he fucked you at a sleepover at Sunghoon’s place, with Heeseung mere inches away from you two sleeping. He never decided to tell you that Heeseung heard every moment of it, to protect your sensitive heart.
“Fuck, princess, you’re so wet,” he said breathily. “You love it, don’t you? You always act like such an innocent girl, but I know how much it turns you on to think of someone catching us like this, isn’t that right?”
sunghoon — tidal wave (single)
if you don't wanna break his heart, girl, where the fuck is he, then? [...] and i say fuck the rules and let 'em find out but that's just how i'm feelin'
You could feel his breath on your forehead; even though you tried to avoid it, his gaze bore you. He hated when you didn’t look back at him when he was fucking you. He roughly grabbed a handful of your thighs and slammed himself inside you, making you roll your eyes back into your head.
“Hoonie...” you moaned. Your pussy was starting to feel sensitive, and you knew you were close. Sunghoon sucked on his teeth and cupped your chin to make you look up at him.
“Keep your eyes on me, baby,” he whispered. “Either that or I’m not letting you finish. Understand?”
You nodded weakly in response, but God did it hurt to look into his eyes. It made this all feel too real. When his eyes were on you like this, it was a reminder that you could never escape him, no matter how hard you tried.
You always loved him, but God did he hate you. At least that’s what it felt like.
Why else would he hurt you like this? Why else would he tell you he wasn’t ready for a relationship and break your heart repeatedly, just to come crawling back when you finally found someone who loved you back? He wanted you to belong to him, but he could never bring himself to be yours.
But did it really matter how much he hurt you when you always ended up like this? With your legs spread out, your cunt stuffed with his cock, and him plummeting into you so deeply it made you see stars.
He was ruining your life, but you were the pathetic one for letting it happen.
“Did you really think he could replace me?” he said cockily. You hated that question because the obvious answer was no. Jisung was perfect, and you were fucked in the head because even that was never enough for you.
Sunghoon was your dirty little secret. He was an addiction that was slowly killing you.
“Fuck you,” you spat. “Why would I want someone to replace you when you’re such an asshole? Jisung treats me like a princess.”
You used all your strength to muster up those words coherently, as it was becoming harder to think with the thrusts of his hips intensifying. You could see the sweat dripping down his chest.
He reached his hand down, and you yelped as you felt his cold finger pads pinch your clit, sending an electric shock up your spine. You loved how good he made you feel. Nothing could ever compare to how well he knew your body.
“You don’t want to be treated like a princess, though, isn’t that right? Deep down, you know you’re a whore, and you deserved to be punished like one.” His words were rough, but all too true.
Tears started welling in your eyes, and you didn’t know if it was because of how overstimulated you were becoming or because his words were hitting too close to home.
“Tell me this, Y/N. If he’s so fucking perfect, where exactly is he? Huh?” He loved fucking with your head. He was the one who pleaded with you to get in bed with him, and now he was punishing you for it.
#heeseung smut#jay smut#jake smut#jake sim smut#sunghoon smut#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen smut#enhypen drabbles#enhypen hard hours
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Intimacy
𓂅 𓄹 Summary: Lack of intimacy after childbirth can weigh a relationship down. Thankfully, Miguel always finds new ways to keep the spark alive.
𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
18+. Lactation kink. Fangs. Implied breeding kink. A comprehensive study on intimacy with Miguel O’Hara.
“She’s finally sound asleep.”
Holding back a yawn as you entered the living room, you were promptly met with a very heavy-eyed Miguel O’Hara on the couch, enjoying the comforts of home.
“Thank you,” he said truthfully, straightening up lightly in his seat. “Come here.”
You paced towards him, lazily settling on his lap, both legs framing his as two big and warm hands sprawled across your back, pulling you into an embrace.
Instinctively, your eyes fluttered shut once cheek came to rest on his shoulder, taking in his body warmth and enjoying the steady heartbeat that drummed against your chest.
You figured you might just fall asleep and don’t fight against it. Taking care of a baby had been taking a toll on you both as of late, but it was to be expected.
Still, you missed moments like this. No talking, just feeling right at home in a silent embrace.
Miguel planted a few kisses to the back of your neck, but they were void of any sexual bearing. You knew what he meant with those. Absolute gratitude and devotion.
“Next time, I’ll put her to sleep,” he muttered under his breath.
“Hmm.”
His hands glided along your back, fingertips applying just enough pressure to raise goosebumps across your skin.
“I mean it.”
“You’re also tired,” you drawled out with a yawn, body slumping fully into him. “Work and all that…”
Another tender kiss. “But I have responsibilities here, too.”
“Why are you so stubborn?”
“You taught me how.”
Point taken.
Silent seconds ticked by and you shifted on his lap into a more comfortable position, ready to enter the valley of dreams.
“I miss you,” he said all of a sudden.
His hands settled on your arms to straighten you, a pair of red eyes encasing yours.
“I miss us.”
Miguel wasn’t a man to deliver empty words as filler, so you knew that he genuinely meant it, which had your heart to skip a beat.
His digital suit began to fragment and reced, exposing the skin underneath. Your placed your hands on his chest, feeling the hard muscles flex under your touch.
He was so handsome. Almost unfairly so.
“Let me kiss you,” he whispered.
You nodded, bringing your lips to meet his in a lazy kiss as you dragged your fingers along his hair, earning a moan of approval.
It was a slow and steady kiss. You were in no hurry and wanted to make the most of this rare opportunity.
One of his hands slid to grope your breast and you felt him groan against you lips, breaking contact.
His half-hooded eyes were now on your chest, and as you followed his line of sight, you realised what had caught his attention.
Your shirt was getting soaked with milk.
Damn.
Two round damp spots spread across the fabric that covered each nipple, and you felt instant embarrassment take over. “Sorry… wanted to pump before putting her to bed, but she—”
“Don’t ever apologise for this,” he silenced you at once.
You tried to slide off the couch to fix yourself, but he kept you in place with both hands gripping your waist, pushing you down on him.
“Stay.”
Oh?
“I’ll help.”
Oh.
“Miguel…”
Masterful fingers worked their way down the buttons of your nightgown to reveal your heaving breasts.
You knew that look on his face.
Hunger.
“So full,” he said more to himself, cupping both of them softly.
A few droplets coated both nipples and he brushed the pad of his thumbs along the sensitive skin, earning a jerk from you.
The tingling between your legs emerged in full force from just the sight of him staring at you like he could devour you whole.
He craned his neck just enough to capture one nipple with his lips before latching hungrily.
The overwhelming sensation was enough to have you clinging to his broad shoulders for support. You squeezed your eyes shut and gasped once you felt him sucking gently.
It didn’t take long for you to feel the growing pressure between your legs from his hardening cock.
“Be gentle,” you moaned, caressing his cheek that would rhythmically hollow as he downed your milk.
“Hmmm.”
Then your hand came to his neck and you gently gripped it, feeling his Adam’s apple bob with each gulp.
You stared adoringly at him, slowly grinding into his covered cock. A raw groan reverberated through his throat, and you could tear your eyes away from the sight of the warm liquid pooling in the corner of his mouth.
The latch was just perfect and felt too good.
You brought your hand to caress his face once more, brushing a few strands of his hair away.
“You’re so good…” you moaned.
His cock twitched at your praise, and you could feel the wetness damping his own underwear. Now he was the one leaking for you, his body full on auto-pilot as precum readied him for more.
A couple of droplets began to run down his chin, dripping and drenching his underwear.
“No fangs…”
You’d felt them grazing your skin lightly, but you couldn’t really blame Miguel. His fangs would emerge from either extreme anger or blinding pleasure. A roll from your hips with added pressure was enough to tear his lips from your nipple, head falling back and mouth parting with a raw moan.
He bared both sets of fangs as both hands gripped your waist. Your own mouth dropped open as haziness filled your vision, absolutely revelling in seeing your own milk dripping from his lips and down his muscular neck.
“Fuck,” he grunted, eyes squeezed shut.
You hurried to collect some of the beads of milk from his skin, but Miguel intercepted you midway, capturing you into a searing kiss. His tongue hurriedly slipped past your lips and you tasted sweetness.
Parting yourself from him, you focused on the grind of your hips and Miguel snapped open his crimson eyes, lust dilating his pupils.
“I’m not… I’m not…” he mumbled incoherently, too lost in his pleasure. “I’m not… lasting…”
You leaned in to whisper in his ear, “I’m surprised you lasted this long,” you whispered seductively, pressing a quick kiss to the pulse point on his neck. “So much stamina…”
Miguel was a sucker for praise and it was the easiest and fasted way to get him to crumble.
Your clit rubbed against his covered cock in a steady rhythm as more droplets of milk kept dripping from your nipples. Your eyes roamed along his chest that was glistening as beads of white liquid streamed down.
Suddenly, Miguel pulled you into him, your breasts now squeezed in between you two, more liquid pouring out.
He titled your head and immediately latched his lips against your neck, fangs nearly puncturing the flushed skin.
“You ride me so good,” he murmured hungrily against you.
A moan tangled in your throat and your hips surged to encourage his, ruthlessly intensifying the pleasure. Miguel picked up the speed again and you felt each burst of bliss at every thrust and desperate to feel the next.
Your orgasm was upon you faster than you had expected, the sense of urgency in his thrusts pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
“Miguel… Miguel…” you moaned, your panties completely drenched.
“Inside… please…”
Desperate fingers clawed at your underwear, sliding it to the side as the tip of his cock nudged at your entrance. He slid inside effortlessly, bottoming up in an instant, and after a moment he gave a harsh cry and shoved himself so deeply and tightly against you that you gasped, clenching hard around him.
Miguel buried his face in the crook of your neck in a failed attempt to muffle his groans.
He kept grinding and rocking against you with stifled grunts, spurting hotly inside.
Only the sounds of your harsh breathing followed, and you sank against him weakly as if drained of all energy.
A familiar waile filled the room, making you wince.
“Shit… were we too loud?” you asked, trying to ease your breathing.
Miguel was still buried deep inside you, beads of sweat rolling down his face. “I’ll go check on her.”
You could tell he reluctantly slid out, easing you on your back. The sudden emptiness made you clench involuntarily, and you felt some of his warm cum spilling
“Keep it in,” he said, pressing your legs together as he planted a kiss to your forehead.
Masterlist
#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara x you#miguel ohara x reader#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel x reader#atsv miguel#miguel ohara#miguel o’hara x fem!reader#miguel o’hara imagine#atsv miguel
8K notes
·
View notes
Note
Imagine jealous!sharon want to get you out of the way so she can be with Bucky…
She hurts you (even it’s like a bruise) and Bucky begins to be so protective of you 🥺🥵
ABSOLUTELY.
I'm imaging this with a soft sweet reader and fuckboi Bucky. Hear me out, okay.
He's not looking for a relationship at all, finally feeling a sense of freedom after getting a bit of himself back. He's so flirty with everyone, so charming, he knows he can get whoever he wants.
He fucks.
A lot.
Sharon eats it up, loving the smirks he gives her, his playful baby blue eyes always sparkling. She loves the naughty way he bites his lip and don't even get her started on how gorgeous he is when he works out shirtless. His Brooklyn accent comes out when he calls her darlin' and it makes her weak in the knees.
There's just one issue.
The looks he gives Sharon aren't special. She's not the only one he calls darlin', even the old lady at the coffee shop shares the same pet name. Bucky can't help the little smirks he tosses around to others, flirty compliments naturally falling from his lips. He's a bit of a heart breaker but it's who he is.
That's just Bucky.
That's Bucky with everyone else.
Then there's Bucky with you.
The quite lab assistant who worked at the compound.
He didn't have it in him to playfully flirt with you when you asked about his day. He actually liked talking to you, finding any excuse under the sun to keep the conversation going, poking at the little nick knacks you have on your desk so he doesn't have to leave so quickly.
Sharon hates the way he looks at you. Whenever he's around you, he looks at you with puppy eyes as if he's wondering how someone so sweet could possibly exist. She catches onto the way he's not the same with you as he is with others. He's called everyone in passing darlin' with a drawl of his voice but you're his doll. He's never used that with anyone else. That's reserved just for you.
She can't stand it.
At first she tries to pick you apart in subtle ways' maybe you'd finally realize you had no business talking to someone like Bucky.
"You're so pretty even though you wear glasses"
"Don't worry, that dress would still look good on your body type, its meant to suit everyone"
"I wish I was as brave as you to wear that! I'd love to have that much confidence but I could never"
She smiled sweetly while you pulled your lab coat closer together, clutching it tightly in your hand. Your heart sank to your stomach. You'd worn one of your favorite dresses, one many others had always said you looked perfect in but some how Sharon made you doubt that, despite her sugary smile.
Then she took it a step further to make sure you were more isolated, insisting you'd be uninterested in plans when the team wanted to go out. Purposely giving you extra work when they had drinks together. Anything to keep you sad and holed away in your lab while she kept Bucky all to herself.
She'd do anything to get rid of you.
She was almost certain everything was going accordingly to plan, inching closer and closer to Bucky during a movie night until she was pressed against him, sharing his blanket. Not that Bucky noticed since he was more distracted over the fact that Sam was also squished against him on the other side of the small couch. Sam was also buried under the now too hot blanket, his deep snores irrupting the movie having fell asleep on Bucky's shoulder.
"Damn bird brain" Bucky huffed, ignoring the fact that he pushed Sharon off while reluctantly adjusting himself so Sam's head wouldn't slip, shaking his head when Sam grumbled, trying to snuggle into Bucky more.
"Bet you wish that was y/n, huh" Tony wiggled his eyebrows and much to Sharon's distain, Bucky blushed. Not did he deny it.
It didn't matter though. She'd find a way to get Bucky's attention, it wasn't like you were real competition anyways. She figured you'd have the sense to like someone better suited for you, someone in your league, definitely not the very handsome Sergeant.
That was until she found out you had a crush on the super soldier yourself. You'd let it slip out during a conversation with Nat, not realizing there was someone near the lab. Sharon didn't think you actually had a chance with Bucky but it didn't matter.
At this point she didn't care about what it took.
She was sick of the way Bucky was soft over you.
So she took a more direct approach.
"Y'know, I heard someone has a little crush on a certain super soldier" Sharon smirked, wandering to your table, tinkering with one of your tools while you looked at her like a deer caught in head lights.
How did she know?!"
"I-I don't-
"Oh please y/n, everyone knows" the blonde rolled her eyes at your gaping mouth before continuing, "I just thought I should let you know that he's not interested"
You felt like you had been punched in the stomach, the hurt expression on your face made her satisfied,.
"Oh" Was all you mustered out, embarrassed beyond belief while she shrugged. You blinked back tears while Sharon squeezed your shoulder out of faux concern, handing you a tissue.
"I'm so sorry, honestly I just thought you should know because he likes me. And I like him. So it would be best for you to move on, because were seeing each other" It didn't matter if it was a lie because she intended on making it real soon enough.
From that day, you avoided everyone in the compound like the plague, throwing yourself into work, feeling ridiculous for having even thought of Bucky that way. Of course he'd never go for someone like you, you should've known that from the start.
Sharon's plan was short lived after she overheard Bucky worriedly asking Tony about where you'd been all week since he hadn't seen you. After some endless teasing, Tony reassured him you were fine and just busy with lab work, not knowing the true reason as to why you'd overloaded yourself.
Sharon despised the pink that decorated Bucky's cheeks whenever someone said your name.
She hated that she'd seen him walking by the lab hallway in search of you.
She'd do anything to end all of this.
Including hurt you.
-
You made your way down to the gym hoping to sweat some of your unrequited feelings away, putting on your headphones before hopping on the treadmill. Sharon walked in moments later, blonde hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, her toned body on full display in nothing but a sports bra and some tiny shorts.
You felt even worse.
You tried to stay hidden, deciding 15 minutes would be enough, though your escape was cut short with Sharon caught your arm just as you were about to leave.
"How about we spar for a bit" She smiled sweetly, giggling at your confused expression. You'd never sparred in your life, in fact this was probably the third time you'd even used the gym the entire time you'd lived at the compound.
"Sharon, I-I don't think that's a good idea, I've never-
She cut you off, dragging you to the mat, practically shoving you to the middle with more force than necessary.
"It's fine! I mean, it's good for you to learn since you work here n'all C'mon, I'll help you and show you what to do" Before you could say anything, Sharon had flipped you onto the mat, twisting your arm behind your back without warning. You gasped in pain as she gripped harder, pulling further up your back until she heard your joints crack.
"Let-let go" You winced out, confused over what part of sparring this was, your body hitting the floor when she released her grip.
"Ops" Sharon pouted with faux innocence, taking a long sip from her water while you hissed in pain, seeing the formation of a bruise already forming on your arm.
"SHARON"
Sharon squeaked in surprised at the loud voice that boomed through the gym, bouncing off the walls. Her eyes shot up to see a very angry super solder making his way over to the mat, eyes darkening as they landed to your injured form on the ground.
"What the fuck did you do?!"
"Bucky, we were just-
"Don't" Bucky growled through gritted teeth, rushing over to your side, and slipping his arm around your waist.
"Angel, are you okay?" He cupped your cheek, helping you to your feet and taking your hand in his, examining it with the utmost care. "Are you hurt anywhere?"
"M'all right" You nodded, your face heating up under his gaze, still a little shaken, your body trembling.
"How the fuck could you hurt her" Bucky spat, his metal hand clenched to his side, itching to punch Sharon in the jaw, having seen what she had just done but he didn't want to deal with the mess that would come afterwards. "The hell did you do that for"
"Excuse me? I was just showing her how to-"
Bucky's jaw clenched, instantly shutting her up. He refused to let go of you, keeping you firmly tucked into his side, growing unbelievably protective over you.
"Fine, go ahead, I'm sure she's different from all your other little side pieces" Sharon scoffed, smirking at the way your face fell. Bucky felt like he'd been hit in the chest; you were far more than any of his hook ups and he'd never considered treating you that way.
"You. Don't. Touch. Her" He glared her at before walking off with you. After the incident, Bucky insisted you go to the doctors to get checked over, waiting outside of the room like a kicked puppy. He couldn't help but feel guilty that all this had happened because of him. He also wondered that you thought.
Did you think he'd just use you for one night?
He would never.
He knew he wasn't into dating. He gave up on the dream of getting married, having kids, all that years ago. But that was before he met you. Ever since you'd thrown him a shy smile along with the softest hello Sergeant Barnes, Bucky had been a goner.
If his feelings were was bad before, it was even worse now.
You were told to ice your arm for the pain and swelling. Bucky had swept you away right to the kitchen, despite you telling him you'd be fine, plopping you onto the kitchen island wrapping an ice pack in a towel. He held it to your arm, frowning at the way you refused to look at him, your face downcast to the floor.
"Doll?" Bucky wrapped his arms around you for a comforting hug, wondering if the altercating with Sharon was still upsetting you, "Are you okay sweets? I missed you, haven't seen you in ages"
"I-I'm fine, I'm sorry" You pulled away from his arms, remembering Sharon's words from earlier, instantly missing the warmth of his body. "I know you don't feel the same way Bucky" You bit your lip to keep it from trembling.
Bucky blinked in confusion, having no idea what you were talking about. What did he not feel the same way over.
"What do you mean y/n"
"I mean I like you-but I know you don't like me that way so I kept myself busy so I wouldn't bother you because Sharon said-
"Wait, slow down, what did Sharon say"
You sighed before recounting all the things that had lead to this moment, Sharon insulting you, then telling you to back off, to straight up fighting you.
"Oh doll" Bucky shook his head, feeling worse over what had happened but over the moon over your confessed feelings, "She's right you know," He teased at the pout that made it's way to your lips before playfully pecking them, catching you by surprise.
"I don't do relationships. Certainly never had before. That was before I met the sweetest thing in the world and she's had my heart since" Bucky whispered, his hands, one warm, one cool cupping your cheeks, "She has me dreamin' of sayin' I do and that white picket fence, a ring on her finger, a pretty little baby bump with flowers on the window sill. Maybe a baby boy n' a baby girl. Maybe even a cat. She's the cutest little lab assistance and I'd love for her to be my girl, sweets"
Bucky held your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing over your warm cheeks while you grew bashfully shy, burying your face into his chest instead, making him chuckle.
"I didn't think you were the relationship type" You shrugged, toying with his dog tags, "I'm not you're darlin' Bucky"
"That's cause you're my doll" Bucky tilted your face up making you look up at him, his lips pressing the softest kiss to your nose and then your lips. "My one and only doll"
#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fluff#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes angst#bucky angst#bucky fanfic#bucky x you#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes fanmix#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky fan fics#bucky fan fic#bucky fan fiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#marvel fanfics#protective bucky barnes#bucky barnes x f reader#bucky#soft bucky#sharon carter
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝓛𝓸𝓯𝓲 𝓛𝓾𝓼𝓽 ♡
{ Pairing } - Producer.bf!Jisung x afab.gf!reader
{ Genre } - NSFW; s/f/d(dark)*, PWP, established relationship
{ Synopsis } - Your boyfriend doesn't know any other method of stress relief, other than creating music. He can get so consumed by it, it can become the stressor. So you decide to present him with a new method. That's how you found yourself walking down the street in nothing but lingerie and a long coat.
{ WC } - 2.9k
{ Warnings & Tags } - 18+ MDNI, *forced orgasm/slight dubcon if you squint, everything is consensual but there is begging for more when reader might be at her limit so that's why I'm including dubcon (for those who may find it triggering)*, use of pet names (baby, angel, mine, my love, good girl & Ji), very lowkey needy/soft dom & romantic sub dynamic, worshipping reader, oral (f. recieving), squirting, overstimulation, unprotected piv (do as I say & not as I write, pee after sex too!), creampie, cum feeding & eating, fingers in mouth, pussy worship, I may just have gotten carried away with oral fixations okay? FORGIVE ME.
{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated or depicting the actual life of the members of SKZ. It is a fictional piece of work, and I do not own Stray Kids. All works of fiction are loosely inspired by SKZ, and in no way am I saying it is true to their character.
{ A/N } - I originally was going to post a Hyunjin oneshot next, but I wanted to finish this one in time for Jiji's birthday! It's 2 am on the 14th where I am heheh. Hopefully you all like it. Han producing music will always be hot asf for me personally lmao. Barely proofread.
The air was cool, seeping underneath your long wool coat. In any other circumstance, on a late fall night, the coat would be enough to keep the chill out. Today however, it wouldn't. But you still kept walking, determined to make it to Jisungs studio.
You focused on the clicking of the heels on the boots you wore. And the sound of the wind picking up, signalling a blustery night ahead. The small sounds calm your nerves.
You were anxious about Jisung's reaction, he was in one of his moods again. You understand, you truly do. Juggling everything he has to on his plate, it was no easy feat. There were times he'd just let that dark veil take over, and shut everyone out without even meaning to.
You knew he was in that state again when you hadn't seen or heard from him in three days. It wasn't for lack of effort on your end either. Every phone call sent to voicemail, every text sent by you was met with the same response;
'At the studio, I'll text you after, angel'.
You knew it was time for intervention when Chan texted you that he was only coming home, at 2 in the morning no less, to shower and change. No eating, no resting, just back to the studio afterwards.
This had happened twice before in the almost year you've been dating. Each time you remember talking with him afterwards, he always said the same thing;
'making music is my stress relief.'
That may be true, but it doesn't change the fact that he is also a workaholic. One who easily gets lost in the creative space he has built a career off of. And once that diligence sets in, it's hard to shake off.
So here you are, ready to try a new approach. Ready to offer a new kind of relief. An alternative.
You and Jisungs sex life was far from boring. Far from infrequent, you'd say too. But it surely was more... monotonous. You'd never complain about it, and neither would he. There was nothing wrong with it. It just happened at the 'perfect' times in your relationship.
Before bed, after date nights, on monthly anniversaries, to express massive amounts of love, etc.
It was never to celebrate happiness, calm anger, or comfort sadness. Never to relieve stress.
You were determined to change that. There was no reason you could not help him in any way you could. And in this aspect, you knew you could.
Still, you were nervous. This would be new, he never did well with new.
Your footsteps stopped, leaving only the sound of the wind in your ears. Until you pressed your badge against the card reader, listening to the beeps, to the gears unlock.
Once inside the lobby, the clinking of your heels against the vinyl tile filled your ears. Each step matches the thumping in your heart, you find yourself speed walking.
You smiled and gave a little wave to the staff in the lobby, and they returned it.
In the elevator, the sound of its melodic music filled your ears next. The whirring background noise the machinery made, stopped, as you reached your desired floor.
There was silence when you stepped off. The flooring is carpeted now, and soundproof rooms lined the hallway leaving the night quiet.
You took a deep breath and made your way to the door you knew was your boyfriend's. It was unlocked, thankfully.
You let yourself in, seeing the silhouette of your boyfriends back facing the door in the blue lighting.
He was all about ambiance in this facet of life, having LED's lining the ceiling. The only source of light in the room, besides the glowing screens of his monitors.
He was sat in his chair, headphones on, hood up, head nodding in tandem with his fingers tapping.
You took the opportunity to slide your boots off. Opting to keep your coat on, you brushed your hair over one shoulder. You took your badge from around your neck, and tossed it on the leather couch that was against the wall.
Padding your way over to him, you place your hand on his shoulder lightly. He tenses under your touch, and turns his head. He's frowning when he first faces you, eyebrow furrowed together.
When he sees you though, he softens. The corners of his mouth slightly upturning to a small smile.
"Baby..." He whispers, sliding his head phones off. Soft lofi music is filling the room from them.
He grabs your hand off his shoulder, bringing it to his lips. He's pressing soft kisses to your palm, and placing it on his cheek.
"It's late my angel, why are you here?" He says in a husky voice with more volume.
Your heart flutters at his gentleness, and you bend down to press your own lips to the top of his head. A musky, yet spicy vanilla scent fills your nostrils. His scent.
"I'm here to help you baby." You murmur to him softly.
That caught his attention. He fully swivelled around to face you, taking both of your hands in his. He gazed up into your eyes, a curious look on his face.
You smiled down on him, feeling nothing but love for this man. You'd relax him in any way you can. You placed a hand on each side of his face, bending down again. No more words were said as you kissed him. As your hands slid down his neck, his found themselves on yours, pulling you closer to him. Matching your eagerness.
You let your hands fully slide off him, and tilted your head to deepen the kiss. Your trembling fingers were working the buttons on your coat. One by one, releasing the fabric from your bare skin.
You stood up, letting the coat fall from your shoulders.
Jisung lets out a soft gasp, and licks his lips.
Exposed to him, was his favorite lingerie you owned. It was a bra and panty set, satin and lace. Revealing.
All white.
Your boyfriends favorite part. He always said that the contrast against your melanated skin was a work of art. He joked about commissioning Hyunjin, if he didn't have to see you essentially naked.
So here you stood before him, presenting yourself to him. Silently willing him to do as he pleases. To take your body and use you to decompress. You were too nervous to say it.
He traces the swell of your breast with a finger, curving around the delicate lace. It's a simple touch, but it still sends a shiver down your spine. Goosebumps blooming on your skin.
"So sexy." He mumbles, eyes roving your whole body.
He stands up, kissing you desperately, and walking you back to the couch. Your knees hit the back of it, and you're forced to sit. Lips ripping away from his, panting at the desire in his eyes.
All your nerves were gone. New or not, it would never change the fact that Jisung craved you as much as you craved him.
He held himself up with his hands on the back of the couch, and hovered above you for a moment looking you in the eyes.
Then he was sinking to the ground, on his knees, between your legs. His hands smooth over your thighs, making them pliant with soft kisses, before he spreads them open. Your pussy is glistening behind the lace, and he licks his lips again.
His hand glides from your thigh, to your heat. Thumb brushing against that sensitive bud, the friction eliciting a whine from you.
His eyes snap up to you, and he holds your gaze as his tongue licks a stripe up your clothed core. The tip of it flicking deliciously against your sensitive clit.
"Mmmm..." He groaned at the taste of you, "All for me?"
You moan at his tongue swiping against you again, and again, "All for you, my love."
His fingers hook underneath the band of your underwear, and he peels them off you. He's whimpering, watching as strings of your arousal stick to them. The cool air is hitting your sex, before puffs of hot air from his mouth is. And you're shivering again at the sensation.
A gasp escapes you when his tongue slides between your folds. Lapping up your juices, and suckling at that bundle of nerves. You listen to the wet sounds his mouth is making against you, along with the broken melody coming from his head set. You get lost in it.
Your hand finds his hair, and you're grinding against his mouth. He's whimpering and moaning with you, one hand palming at his bulge. The other has fingers teasing your entrance.
You let out a loud moan when two fingers push into you, and your grasp on his hair loosens. He takes the opportunity to get air, panting, mouth hanging open. His cheeks, chin and lips all shine in the dull blue light.
His fingers continue to pump into you as he watches your face contort for him. He's smiling with lidded eyes, basking in the fact that he's making you feel so good.
"Ji..." You moan, needing more.
"My beautiful baby, let me worship you a little longer." And he's diving back down.
His tongue focuses on your clit, and fingers coaxing that gummy spot inside you. He's pulling moan after moan from you, making out with your lower lips, bringing you closer to the edge. Your thighs start trembling around his head, and he has to grip the fleshy part of one of them to stop you from squeezing him before he's finished.
You're spilling over the edge, body alight and your release coating his fingers, and face. He's lapping up every little bit, determined to taste your pleasure on his tongue. Only when you start to whine from constant overstimulation does he stop.
He's kissing his way up to your lips, leaving a wet trail behind him that you couldn't bring yourself to care about.
You're not sure when he managed to discard his pants and boxers, but you feel his hard, bare length pressing against your inner thigh.
He's rubbing his member against your pussy now, letting your slick and his saliva cover him. Kissing your neck as he's rocking against you, he whispers, "Angel, do you have another one for me?"
Of course you did, you knew you did. You needed to feel him, you needed to please him. So you started nodding fervently, eyes rolling in the back of your head when he sucked lightly near your ear and jaw.
He had a grasp of his cock now, dragging the head through your folds with added pressure. Each squelch of your juices sounds like music to your ears, anticipation building in your body.
"'Gonna make you feel s'good." He's whining into your neck.
He has your legs around him now, as he fills you slowly, both of you savoring the sensations it brings. Your pussy spasms around him, and it has him grunting.
"Always feel so good squeezin' me..." He mumbled, letting you adjust, "...exactly what I needed..."
Then he was pumping into you, and you felt it. All the frustrations he was holding onto, all the stress, all the vexation. He was translating it into the energy he used to pleasure you. Letting go of it all.
You couldn't hear the soft lofi music coming from his head set anymore, instead the slapping of skin and heavy breathing mixed with moans were filling the room. You'd never be more thankful for a soundproof space. Neither of you were holding back.
Your moans only being interrupted by quiet curses, and his being peppered in between praises of how good you feel for him. He made it known he was chasing your high before his, begging you to cum for him.
"Please angel," he whispers against your lips, "need to feel you cumming on my cock."
His pace became quicker as he kissed you, and his hand slithered down to play with your clit. Your back arched off the couch at that, angling him deeper inside you. He groaned, and his thrusts faltered for a second indicating he was close.
Regardless he was determined to finish you, and his tone grew more demanding, "Be a good girl... cum for me, angel."
And that was all your body and mind needed to let go, legs locking around him and body shaking. Your hands slid under his hoodie, and nails dug into his back. It was the kind of intense orgasm, that your moan got stuck in your throat, instead a rough growl coming out.
You sounded absolutely feral for him, and you were.
That was what pushed him over the edge, a slew of curses leaving his mouth as his hips stuttered. With a final harsh thrust, he cums deep inside you. All of the negativity has dispersed from his body, and he collapsed back to his knees.
You're both panting, trying to catch your breath. You jolt when you feel his fingers in your folds, over sensitivity taking over yet again. He's spreading you open, hypnotized by the way his cum is drooling out of you.
"So perfect, fuck." He says as he drags his finger through it.
He's bringing it up to your lips, and your mouth opens instinctively. You're sucking his finger into your mouth, his essence salty but familiar on your tongue.
His eyes are locked to yours as you work his finger, licking it clean. He slips a second finger in your mouth, letting you cover them in your saliva before he dips back down for a taste himself.
You're whining around his fingers when his tongue glides against your clit, and your hips try to retract into the couch. Quickly, he has both hands on your hips, securing you in place so he can continue tasting you.
"We taste so good together, my love..." He's mumbling against you.
His words will never fail to coax submission out of you.
Your hand flies back to his hair, as good as it feels you're trying to pull him away. He's just burying his face deeper, tongue dipping into your entrance to make sure he's tasting everything.
"Ji... s'too much... I can't-" You're pleading, even though you feel yourself succumbing to the overwhelming brushes of his tongue.
He hisses when you finally succeed in pulling him off you, "Please angel," He's begging again, "Just one more. I know you have one more for me."
"Fuck, Ji, I-"
He silences you with his tongue flat against you, another lick up to your clit "Please, need to hear you cumming one more time for me." He whines and starts leaving sloppy, wet kisses on your pussy.
You always knew he was more of a giver. That even though it was you who had cum twice, and he only once. He preferred it that way. Even if he was the one needing the release more, he thrived more on your pleasure.
"Just be gentl-" You try to say, but cut yourself off with a groan.
He's eagerly slurping at your core. Lost in the moment, all he has is your pussy on his mind now. Messily licking and lapping at every inch. He's shaking his head and moaning into it, keeping you pinned in place by your hips.
You feel another orgasm starting to build quickly, clenching around nothing. He risks you bucking your hips roughly into his face, and takes a hand off your hip. He's pushing two fingers into you yet again, and you're seeing stars.
His fingers curl, and his lips close around your clit, sucking lightly. You feel your release slip away from you, and your cumming on his face again. Yelling his name. He only grows more determined.
He leans back so he can watch the beautiful, writhing, mess he reduced you to. The thumb of his other hand is replacing his mouth, continuously flicking your bud. He doesn't slow his movements as you ride out your orgasm, instead picking them up.
Your world turns white, and you feel yourself squirt on his hands. He's watching you in awe, whispering more praise for you as your juices spray over him.
"So fucking sexy, my good girl."
"That's it, let go for me, let it all go."
"Knew you had one more in you, all for me."
"My perfect angel."
It's when you start to slip into that floaty space that he finally stops. He doesn't want you too gone, he's limited in the care he can provide here.
He's positioning you to lay on the couch, and he's laying behind you. You're both wet and sticky, and heaving for air. Yet, it's blissful.
You lay there for what could've been minutes or an hour, you weren't sure. You were content in each other's touch. Your arm reaches back to caress his head, fingers combing through his hair. He's humming.
"I love you." You finally murmur.
"I love you more, angel. Thank you for this." He says, and kisses your shoulder.
"You caught on quickly to my idea." You giggled.
He laughed with you, "I caught on halfway through it, actually. I was just beside myself with desire for you."
You blushed at that, and you were thankful he couldn't see it.
"I mean you showed up in my favorite set..." He whispers and starts toying with the lace on your bra, his finger slipping underneath to flick your nipple, "In ONLY my favorite set. How could I not show you how much I admire you."
You felt his length harden against you again, and he rolled his hips slowly as he gripped your hip.
You knew the night was far from over.
As for how you were both going to escape and clean up? Well that was a problem for future you.
Taglist:
@eczlipse @sailor--sun @maisyyyyyy @jupire @prettiichocolateprincess
@meowmeowminnie @joyofbebbanburg @adieu-lisette @sleeping-beau-tay @staytinyluv
@lookitsjess @majorlymismanaged @kpopsstuffs @helloimacalumgirl @bbokarimenu
@bubblepop-stay @mauvemelon @ohhlittlegirl @ang4lheart @spnwinchestersd
@adieu-lisette @loud-minhoe @juwire @anylady-fics @antisocialties
@nebugalaxy @wowitsafemale
As always, please let me know if you'd like to join the taglist. And if you do, pretty please interact with my fics besides liking (ie; replying/commenting/reblogging). Although I will always appreciate liking as well! Feedback is always cherished! ♡
But again, please be gentle in your criticism! I am but a sensitive soul.
#han jisung oneshot#han jisung fic#han jisung fanfic#han jisung fanfiction#han jisung stray kids#han jisung skz#han jisung#han jisung x reader#han jisung x you#han jisung x y/n#han jisung smut#han jisung fluff#needy han jisung#dom han jisung#soft dom han jisung#sub reader#skz fanfic#stray kids fanfic#skz smut#stray kids smut#stray kids x y/n#stray kids x you#stray kids x reader#han jisung x female reader#stray kids x female reader#skz fluff#stray kids fluff#producer han jisung#kaysungshine fics
850 notes
·
View notes
Text
☆ JJK MEN GUILTY PLEASURES ☆
[•~featuring: Satoru, Suguru, Sukuna, Choso~•]
[•~a/n: ideas? and not proofread :)~•]
|| SATORU GOJO || ☆ hidden album ☆
satoru never hid anything from you. he was very open and wouldn't hesitate if you ever asked him if you could look through his phone. nothing was on there anyway. but there was one specific album he kept hidden from you. he wasn't ever going to show it you it, he was taking it to the grave. just imagine your reaction to an album full of lewd erotic pictures of just you...
stomach resting on top of a couple of pillows to keep you steady, your head being pushed down into the mattress as satoru rails you from the back. the firm grip he has on your hip roughens as he nears his release. while you babble about how good it felt and how close you were. satoru's thrust rapidly change from rhythmic to sloppy. "where ya want it?" he grunts, the edge of his orgasm growing closer and closer.
"b-back!" you mewl, the pitch of your voice trailing higher as you reach your own orgasm. the darkness covering your eyes as you fall into a deep state of pure bliss. satoru chuckles hoarsely, and mumbles something along the lines of "anything for my dirty girl-" he pulls out of you, your cum and lubricating his cock as he begins to jerk himself off, aiming for your back. as he does he swiftly grabs his phone from beside him. the sound of his fists hitting his abs rings in your ears as he feels his orgasm take over.
long pearly white strings of cum coat your back. satoru's breathing goes heavy, as he quickly snaps a photo of the dirty sight before. seeing you completely ruined but his own cum was so attractive to him. after, he helps clean you up, completely leaving you oblivious of his dirty little photo, which he will be jerking off too when you leave.
|| SUGURU GETO || ☆ seeing ur tears ☆
usually suguru would hate to see you cry. the sight of seeing you so distressed made his heart ache. he couldn't bear to see your tear stained face, glossy glass eyes, and tears still running down your face. it was cruel. unless it was because of him. suguru hates to admit it. he loves it whenever he sees you tearing up because his cock was hitting the back of your throat so harshly.
"mm- slow down!" you exclaim, suguru pounding your mouth harshly. "nah take it" he grunts coldly. gaze on you darkens as the grip his has on your hair increases, sure to keep intense tangles. the way the tip of his cock would hit the back of your throat, making you gag loudly every time, it was sure to leave your voice raspy the next morning.
the sensations of his cock hitting the back of your throat, and the gagging, alongside with the rough harsh grip he has on your hair. it was so overwhelming and harsh. and you loved it. but it also made your eyes fill up with tears. your glossy shiny eyes looking up at suguru so innocently as he abused your mouth. ohh it turned him one so muchh
suguru smirks cockily, "aw... are ya cryin sweetie?" he coos, mocking you with an overly caring yet sarcastic tone. you roll your eyes which only fueled suguru ego and encouraged him to increase his thrusts. "pathetic crybaby." he groans a finger sliding under your eye wiping away the tears that were streaming down your face. "oh ill be makin sure those eyes roll, alright." he mumbled while pulling out your mouth. let's just say you were sobbing by the end of the night.
|| RYOMEN SUKUNA || ☆ brat taming ☆
being a brat with sukuna usually never ends well for you. usually ends with you being denied an orgasm for hours upon hours. or you would be cumming every 10 minutes. no breaks or anything. he would exhaust you so much were you would be so cock drunk you could only think about obeying him. sukuna hated to admit it. but he loved it. he loved it when you be a brat. it made him feel so powerful. knowing only he could put you in your place.
you were on your knees, the cold hardwood floors sending shivers down your spine. you were giving sukuna head or at least supposed to be. but you decided to play a dangerous game. you stroke sukunas cock slowly, placing small kitten licks all over the leaky pink tip which was covered in milky translucent precum. your tongue traced the veins of his shaft. you looked up at sukuna, who looked down at you, catching on to your ideas.
he looked down at you, with a dangerous glare. "don't be a fuckin brat." he warns. you look back up at him, your doe eyes looking up at him feigning innocence. you continue with your activities, tracing the veins on his shaft with your tongue. they were a pretty muted aquamarine which was on the greener side. you could feel them pulsate with anticipation.
"y'think you're funny?" sukuna questions, bending down to get to eye level with you. "open ya fucking mouth" he commands, aiming his cock at your lips. you open your mouth and instantly feel it get filled. sukuna groans loudly as he feels your mouth surround him. not stopping for a moment before thrusting in and out, facefucking you harshly."could've had it easy and just do what I told you to." he say, watching as you gag on his cock. "always gotta teach ya how to be good." he groans, now holding a handful of your hair. "fucking slut, needa be put in her place." he grunts, thrusts getting more and more rapid. sukuna was sure when he was done with you, you'll be a brand new person.
|| CHOSO KAMO || ☆ panty stealing ☆
before you and choso had met. he had no experience with sex at all. he knew it was to reproduce. but that was it. he had some knowledge on how it worked, yet he never understood why humans were so infatuated with the activity. that all changed though when he met you. specifically when you showed him why humans loved the concept. he understood the desires. and now became addicted to your sweet cunt. he just couldn't get enough of your cunt milking his cock, or the delicious taste of your pussy. but you had a life to attend to. so you couldn't come help choso out whenever he needed to feel those waves of ecstacy you brought him. but choso had an idea. a very dirty one
choso gulped nervously, he knew this was wrong. it was so erotic, lewd and perverted. and you didn't even know about choso's antics. he walked into your shared bedroom, pushing away the strong rays of guilt he felt. he walks over to the dresser, contemplating if he could wait just until you came home. he huffs and places a shaky hand on the handle of the bottom drawer. he slowly pulls the drawer open, revealing rows of folded panties, nice and neat. but the one that caught choso's eye was the red lacy one you wore the first night you guys fucked.
choso grabs the panties shakily, holding them in his hand for a moment before walking over towards the bed. he felt so perverted for what he was about to do. he sits on the edge of the bed, hastily yanking his sweatpants off. he rubs the panty on his clothed cock, letting out breathy shudders from the sudden sensation. choso pulls his boxers down, freeing his leaky tipped cock. he rubbed a finger around the tip, collecting the precum and coats his whole shaft with it, imagining it was your saliva or your arousal. he begins to pump his fist up and down, panty still in hand. he imagined it was your walls that suffocated him so tightly.
choso groans loudly, getting lost in the pleasure he was feeling. your panty was practically soaking with his precum while he thrusts into his fist. choso imagined it was your delicate gentle hands wrapped around his dick, imagining the way your tongue would trace his veins and lick all around his tip. the sights choso saw in his head made him let out whiney whimpers. after a little while choso felt his release approach him steadily. mumbles of your name left his lips as the pace of his hands went quicker, his eyes closed shut. the overwhelming sensation of bliss engulfed him as he reached his long awaited orgasm. he grabs your panty and cums all over it. thick but steady spurts of slight opaque cream colored cum decorates your panty. choso lets out one last hoarse groan before hearing the front door close, accompanied with a sweet "Chooo im home!!" how was he gonna explain this to you??
dividers by: @benkeibear
#jjk x reader#smut#jjk#gojo x reader#jjk smut#choso x reader#gojou satoru x reader#choso kamo#jjk choso#satoru x reader#geto suguru#getou suguru x reader#jjk suguru#ryomen x reader#suguru x reader#sukuna ryomen smut#jjk sukuna#geto smut#jjk geto#geto x reader#sukuna x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny - Eris x Reader
Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny - Eris x Archeron!Reader
Summary: You find yourself ensnared by a sly, cunning fox. A very handsome, irritating one.
Warnings: use of the nickname bunny
Based on THIS request.
· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·
Gods, you were going to be in so much trouble. You kept your fast pace as you walked through the woods, keeping your eye out for anything, anything, that might help you. The only reason you even knew where you were was the red and golden leaves adorning the trees, the scent of cinnamon and rain hanging in the crisp air. Autumn. You were in the Autumn Court.
You had just been practicing winnowing with Rhys, your brother-in-law. Since the war ended, the Inner Circle was finally spending more time helping you learn your magic. You had wanted to learn, to do more, ever since you had been turned fae, tossed in the cauldron like your sisters.
But being the youngest meant also having to take a back seat sometimes. Feyre and Nesta never let you do anything. Never let you help in any way. Not much changed after you had been turned fae.
The sound of dogs howling made you pause in your tracks. You stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do. They could be farm dogs, it could mean that someone was nearby, someone who could help you.
But you knew of the type of fae in the Autumn Court and it could also be someone who’d try to hurt you. You bit your lip, finally deciding to make a run for it as the howling got closer.
You took off down a line of trees, pushing yourself to run as fast as you could to create some distance between you and the pack of dogs. But a few stumbles over fallen branches and you could hear the pounding of their paws not far behind you.
A bark had you looking over your shoulder, cursing as you saw the hounds close behind. They yelped with excitement as they caught sight of you, picking up their pace.
Pain, awful, debilitating pain, rushed through your leg and you screamed, falling to the ground. You flipped yourself over to see your foot stuck in the claws of a bear trap, the metal prongs piercing through your skin. You cursed as you realized they must’ve been herding you here.
You let out another cry as you forced yourself to sit up and scoot closer to the trap. The dogs were still running at you and you desperately tried to yank the trap apart, to free your foot.
It was no use; the dogs were too fast. Faster than any dogs you’d ever encountered. You could do nothing but throw your arms over your face and scream, hoping someone would hear you before you were mauled to death by a pack of dogs.
To your utter shock, the feeling of teeth ripping into your flesh never came. You slowly put your arms down to see twelve hounds running in a circle around you, yapping and howling into the air. Each one gray and sleek like smoke.
Footsteps coming from behind you had you whipping around, eyes wide. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of a male. A very handsome male with silky red hair, whiskey amber eyes, and pale skin. He was tall, lithe, but he had the top three buttons of his shirt undone, giving you a glimpse of the muscles beneath.
The cobalt coat he wore was finely crafted, along with his pants and shoes. The haughty expression on his face told you exactly who you were looking at—Eris, the Heir of Autumn.
You swallowed audibly as he smirked down at you, coming to a halt a few paces away.
“Well what do we have here?” His voice was smooth like silk and it sent a shiver down your spine.
You said nothing as he let out a sharp whistle and the hounds circling you halted before running to his side. They sat behind him like perfect little guards, their unusual eyes still on you. You looked back up at the male, who had just stumbled upon you, trapped. He walked around your form, much like his hounds had been doing.
You couldn’t find any words. Mostly because of the pain of the bear trap ripping through your shin and foot. But also because you had only really ever heard horror stories about Eris—about his cruelty and cunning nature.
Eris’s fox-like face smirked down at you in amusement. “My hounds seem to have herded a little bunny into one of my traps. Do you have a name, bunny?”
Should you tell him who you were? That you were one of the Archeron sisters, that you were from the Night Court? You knew briefly through listening in on Feyre’s conversations that they considered Eris an ally. But they also said he could hardly be trusted.
“Does the little bunny not have a voice?” Eris purred, still circling around you like a predator playing with its food. “Hm, let me guess. The golden brown hair and the big, brown doe eyes that look incredibly similar to my brother’s mate’s…Have I trapped an Archeron?”
You used the sleeve of your dress to wipe at the tear tracks on your cheeks. You tried to back away from him, but the movement only jostled your leg, causing a small whimper to escape your throat.
“I-I’m not sure how I ended up here, my Lord,” you mumbled. Gods, you felt pathetic. “Can you p-please help me?”
Eris tilted his head at you, in an animalistic way you still weren’t used to with the fae. He studied you for a moment before another smirk bloomed on his handsome fox-like face. He was picturesque with his disarming beauty.
“You see, I think this is all a bit unfair. You seem to know who I am, but you still haven’t told me your name, little bunny.” He knelt down next to you, reaching a gloved hand out to push some of your hair from your face.
It should’ve alarmed you, his closeness, the touch of his hand. But for some reason, it didn’t. You swallowed again, considering your options. Maybe he would help you get home.
“I’m one of Feyre’s sisters,” you managed to stutter out.
“Is that so?” He seemed to be enjoying this. “And what is the name of the bunny I’ve managed to trap?”
You mumbled your name out loud, glancing around the meadow you were in, at the hounds that were now all laying down, still staring at you. You blinked at them and the biggest one, the leader of the pack, stood suddenly. You kept your eyes trained on her as she marched over to you, shaking as you examined her large head, her jaw that could easily rip your throat out.
But to your surprise, she merely meandered over to you and brushed her head against yours, letting out a low whine. Your eyes widened, looking over at Eris for a second to see a flicker of shock cross his face. The hound let out a small yip before licking the side of your face, drawing out a surprised giggle from you. Was she trying to…comfort you?
“Ashera,” Eris said sternly with a snap of the fingers. But the hound merely glanced at him and then went back to nudging you with her fluffy head.
You raised a shaky hand and stroked her back, bewildered by the dog's behavior. She licked you up the side of your face again and Eris said her name a little louder this time, making her ears twitch. She whined at him but listened, going back to the other dogs.
“I didn’t know there was a fourth Archeron sister. Where have they been hiding you?” Eris asked, drawing your attention back to him. “And why?”
You shrugged your shoulders. Had they been hiding you? No one has ever mentioned keeping you a secret. “I-I don’t know.”
He waved a hand in the air, summoning a piece of parchment and pen. He quickly scribbled something on it before flicking it away. You watched it disappear with awe, still taken aback by the use of magic.
Eris seemed to remember you were still stuck. He let out a sigh and placed his hands on both sides of the trap. He paused to look at you. “Sorry, little bunny, but this is going to hurt.”
And then he pulled the trap apart with his bare hands. You let out a loud cry as the metal spikes were pulled out of your leg. You whimpered, pulling your knee to your chest as you examined the damage to your shin.
Blood was now gushing from the wounds that circled around your shin. You grabbed some of your skirt in your hand, intending to use it to put pressure on the wounds but Eris’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist.
“Don’t do that,” he hissed. “Are you dumb? Your skirt is covered in dirt and mud. You’ll only infect it.”
Your cheeks turned red with embarrassment. He reached a hand towards you but now free from the trap, you scrambled away from him with a whimper. He let out an amused chuckle.
“No need to be frightened, little bunny,” he purred. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
You looked at him warily as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, dangling it in the air between the two of you. You swallowed audibly but didn’t move as he approached again and wrapped it around your ankle as a makeshift gauze.
He hummed, standing up and brushing invisible dirt from his pants. “Now, are you going to tell me why exactly an Archeron is in my court?”
“I was learning how to winnow. I-I don’t know how I ended up here. One minute I was in Velaris and then next, I was here.”
He clicked his tongue, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Interesting. Well, come on. Let’s get to Spring so someone can come retrieve you before you get yourself killed.”
Eris held at his gloved hand to you. You took it, letting him help you rise from the ground, trying to keep weight off your injured ankle. As soon as you were up, he winnowed the two of you away.
A moment later, you appeared on the border of Autumn and Spring. You would’ve fallen over if it wasn’t for Eris grabbing you by the upper arm. You blushed, muttering a small thank you.
“I’m afraid we’re going to have to walk the rest of the way so we don’t set off any wards that will alert my father,” Eris said, coolly.
He set off and you trailed after him, hobbling slowly because of your injury. You only made it a few paces before Eris turned around.
“Hurry it up, bunny, I don’t have all day.”
Your eyes narrowed at him. “Sorry, it’s a little hard to walk considering my foot was just in a bear trap.”
Eris tsked, looking down at your ankle before his eyes trailed up your form. He let out a sigh and strided back to you. Before you could even figure out what he was doing, he grabbed you by the waist and tossed you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
You squeaked in surprise. “What are you doing?! Put me down!”
“Like I said, I don’t have all day,” Eris said, stalking off towards the border to Spring. You jostled on his shoulder with each step he took but he held you firmly with an arm around your thighs like you weighed absolutely nothing.
You pounded on his back with your fists. “Ugh, Let me down!”
“You even hit with the strength of a rabbit,” Eris laughed to himself, ignoring your attempts to free yourself from his hold.
“Jerk,” you scoffed, crossing your arms as you dangled there.
Eris just laughed again. You bickered with him all the way to a clearing where he finally came to a stop and put you down. You huffed, smoothing down your dress and hair as you glared up at him.
“You’re welcome,” he purred with an arrogant smile.
The shadows around the clearing seemed to move in a flurry and then a familiar face stepped out of the darkness.
“Get away from her,” Azriel growled at Eris.
Eris held his hands up, that smile never leaving his face as Azriel stalked towards you. His eyes narrowed as he sniffed, smelling the blood on you.
“Did he hurt you?” Azriel asked, his tone dark. He grabbed you by the arm and yanked you to his side, causing you to stumble.
Before you could even open your mouth, Eris cut in.
“Must you have such a low opinion of me, shadowsinger.” Eris wore that fox-like grin again. “I haven’t harmed a single hair on her head.”
Azriel looked to you, waiting for you to verify his story.
“He speaks the truth, Azriel,” you said, clutching your ankle. “I ran into a bear trap on my own. He helped me out of it and brought me here.”
“And why were you running?” Azriel tossed Eris a glare.
“His d-dogs scared me. But they’re friendly,” you replied, trying to ease the tension in the air.
Eris scoffed, as if no one had ever referred to his hounds as friendly before.
Azriel looked at you with exasperation. “Come on, let’s get you home. No need to linger here.” He glared at Eris one last time.
Before you could protest, he hoisted you up into his arms. You glanced at Eris one last time to see a moment of shock cross his face as he met your gaze.
“Thank you,” you called out as you gave him a small wave before you were swept away in the shadows.
· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·
You didn’t see Eris again for months. Not until Winter Solstice, when it had been decided that Nesta would try to intrigue him enough to keep him as a steady ally. When Elain had declared that she was going to join the Inner Circle in the Court of Nightmares, you had demanded to be taken as well, despite arguments from nearly everyone. But you were tired of being treated like a baby.
You had gotten your way in the end, after agreeing to strict orders to stay at the foot of the dais the entire time. It wasn’t ideal but it was something…better than staying home.
You were dressed in a black tulle, A-line gown. The bodice was sheer but adorned with lace appliques embedded with shining silver gems. It had a sweetheart neckline and off the shoulder lace straps. It swept the floor with tulle and lace, pooling at your feet like dark water. It was beautiful, more girlish than the dress Nesta was wearing but not as plain as Elain’s modest, long-sleeved dress.
You stood at the bottom of the dais next to your sisters, between the two Illyrian warriors, as your sister addressed the crowd. Eris was standing next to Keir at the head of the gathered crowd, dressed in Night Court black himself. It was hard to deny how truly beautiful he was—especially with his striking red hair contrasting the black so well. You could feel his eyes on you from time to time but kept your gaze forward.
“May the blessings of the Winter Solstice be upon you,” Feyre declared.
Keir was the first to approach with a low bow. “Allow me to extend my congratulations.”
“And allow me to extend mine as well, on behalf of my father and the entire Autumn Court.” Eris had stalked forward as well, giving your sister a pretty, cultivated smile. “He shall be thrilled by the news.”
“I’m sure he will.” Rhys kept his eyes trained on the Autumn Heir. “Music!”
An orchestra began playing and Feyre raised her voice and said, “Go—eat.”
The crowd slowly began to dissipate. Keir also disappeared as half the crowd began to dance seamlessly to the music.
“Before you join the merriment, Eris,” Rhys drawled. “I’d like to present you with your Solstice gift.”
You tuned out the conversation, taking in the rest of the throne room. It was your first time here in Hewn City. It was as monstrous as expected. But beautiful still, in the dark way that screamed Night.
You tuned back into the conversation just as Feyre spoke, “Ordinarily I would ask you to dance, but my condition has left me unwell enough that I worry about what so much spinning would do to my stomach.”
She looked at the three of you, as if deciding who she would offer to the Heir of Autumn even though it had already been decided. Elain gave a passable impression of appearing interested, as she had been directed to. Nesta just looked bored. Rhys and Feyre had given you no direction, claiming Eris would be tempted more by power and a wide-eyed, young girl, as they had called you, would not be of interest to him.
“My oldest sister shall take my place.”
But it was like Eris hadn’t heard Feyre speak as he stepped forward and stopped in front of you, not Nesta. You blinked at him, your brows raising with confusion as he extended his hand to you, an open invitation.
“I’ll take the little bunny,” Eris purred with that fox-like grin. He kept his amber eyes on you, not looking towards Feyre despite speaking to her. “If the Lady agrees, of course.”
“I-I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the dances, my Lord,” you said, politely, ignoring the hand outstretched to you as your cheeks turned red at the attention.
Eris didn’t back down. “That’s quite alright. I’ve been told I’m a good lead.”
You glanced at Feyre and Rhys, uncertain of what you were supposed to do. This wasn’t the plan. Eris was never supposed to take interest in you. You were a speck of dust compared to the power rolling off Nesta—power, the only thing he was supposed to care about.
You felt talons scrape your mind and let your sister in.
Just go with it for now. We’ll send in Azriel to take over before it goes too far.
You slipped your hand in Eris’s hold and let him escort you to the dance floor just as the dance finished and the introductory strains of the next began. You couldn’t wipe the wide-eyed look off your face as much as you tried to. You placed your free hand on his shoulder just as his broad hand slid around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.
You blushed, somehow turning even more red than you already had been.
He leaned down to whisper in your ear just as the violins began their song.
“And so the fox ensnares the bunny again.”
Your eyes narrowed at him. “Stop calling me that.”
“Why?” he purred, beginning to lead you into the dance. “It just seems so fitting.”
“It’s not,” you grumbled, trying not to stumble over your own feet. You were lucky that this waltz was similar to the one from the human lands or else you would have surely embarrassed yourself already.
The pair of you finished your first rotation around the dance floor in silence but that smirk never seemed to leave Eris’s face to your annoyance. Flame simmered in his eyes, never leaving yours for a second. You felt something flutter in your chest.
“So,” Eris finally spoke. “Have your owners finally let you out of your cage?”
“I am not caged here,” you murmured. “Just because they don’t find you pleasant company, doesn’t mean I haven’t been allowed around others.”
You snapped your mouth shut, a brief wave of horror passing through you. You had just insulted him. You had just done the opposite of what was supposed to be happening tonight. But to your surprise, Eris just chuckled, not seeming offended at all.
“Do you find me unpleasant, Lady?”
“I remain undecided, my Lord,” you said. “Though everyone certainly has a lot to say about you.”
“What lies have they told you about me, sweetheart?” He twirled your around again, your skirt swishing in the air. A faint fluttering of butterflies grew in your stomach.
“What are these lies you speak of, my Lord?”
You tried to channel your sister but it came out so wrong. You didn’t sound as aloof as her. Nor as cold.
“Don’t try to play the game they want you to.” Eris’s smirk grew into a grin. “It does not suit you, bunny.”
“Maybe if you stopped playing games, I wouldn’t feel the need to as well,” you muttered with a frown. Eris’s grin sharpened.
You were failing at this task. Failing so profoundly that it was embarrassing. You hoped your family couldn’t hear this conversation.
“This is not a game to me, little bunny,” Eris purred, his grip around your waist tightening. “None of it is.”
“Your behavior seems to say otherwise. So does your reputation.”
“Do I not ally myself with this court under constant threat of being discovered and killed by my father? Do I not offer aid whenever Rhysand wishes?”
“That matters little to me, my Lord,” you said. “I am not a piece on this political chessboard you seem to have with Rhysand.”
“So what matters to you, Y/n?” Eris kept pace with the other dancers and you followed his lead as best as you could. “Tell me. I wish to know.”
Your hand slipped from his shoulder, down to his chest and right over his beating heart. “This. This is what matters to me. I would rather someone good of heart over someone with power.”
“How sweet,” Eris teased. “How naive.”
“Gods forbid someone be hopeful for the goodness of people to be the change in this world,” you bristled.
To your surprise, Eris merely smirked once again. “Goodness cannot exist amongst cruelty, sweetheart. Just as hope cannot exist under the burden of responsibility.”
You studied him closely. “Aren’t you tired of putting on a show, Eris? I have seen monsters. You do not seem like one of them.”
Eris yanked you closer and your heart began to pound in your chest. “Then I’d say you haven’t seen enough of the world and its monsters if you truly believe that, bunny.”
“Stop calling me that!”
“Wide-eyed, fluffy tailed,” Eris listed off, his fox-like grin returning. “Still has hope that she can change the world. I have seen this story, sweetheart. I know how it ends. Perhaps it would be best for you to return to your safe, little burrow where you belong.”
A wave of anger crashed into you, your body heating up.
“You don’t get to tell me where I belong. No one does,” you huffed. “Especially not a jerk who doesn’t have dreams of his own and lets everyone else dictate who he is!”
Eris didn’t seem perturbed by your impassioned speech. If anything, his grin seemed to grow. You hadn’t even realized the song had ended and that the two of you had come to a halt on the edge of the dance floor, too lost in your anger.
“You’re just going to have to learn the hard way, sweetheart. You think having dreams and hope makes you something but it doesn’t. It can’t.” Your hand dropped from his chest as he brought the one he was holding up to his lips. “You are only ever going to be what others think you are.”
He pressed a kiss to your knuckles before letting it fall to your side.
“Sly fox.” He pointed to himself before turning his hand to you in a sweeping gesture. “Dumb bunny.”
“I am not a dumb bunny,” you growled.
“Right,” he drawled in a teasing manner that infuriated you. “And you are definitely not caged here, either.”
Your eyes widened as he strode away from you, disappearing in the crowd but not before he tossed one last remark over his shoulder, “I’ll catch you later, bunny.”
You stared at his back as a scarred hand landed on your shoulder with a firm grip, knocking you out of your stupor. You looked up at Azriel, at his cold, unreadable face that stared down at you.
“Come on,” he murmured. “I’ve been ordered to take you back home.”
And just like that, your night–and freedom—was over. Eris’s words and his stupidly handsome face haunted you the entire journey back to Velaris.
#acotar fanfiction#acotar x you#acotar x reader#acotar#eris vanserra#eris x reader#eris acotar#eris x you#eris x y/n#autumn court#eris fanfic#eris imagine#acosf#eris vanserra x reader#eris vanserra x you#eris vanserra acotar#eris vanserra fic
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Crash Course in Love • 2
pairing: snowboard instructor!Jungkook x ex-gf!female reader (feat. platonic OT6) genre: rom-com, Exes 2 Lovers, slow-burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: strong language, slow burn, angst, fluff, tension, bad communication skills, jealousy, alcohol, smoking, heartbreak, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 17.3k
a/n: 19 days later and here's part 2 at last! hope you like it still and I can't wait to see your reactions lol DON’T HATE ME! LOVE YOU ALL 💕 ENJOY
a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕
01 • masterlist • 03
Day 2
There’s something about the way you crash after a day that’s drained you not just physically but emotionally too. After your bath and after you grabbed your luggage when you were sure Jungkook wouldn’t be in his room anymore, and with your stomach still full from the Korean BBQ at Tae’s, you passed out immediately. Yoongi’s snoring didn’t bother you in the slightest—if anything, the vibrations seemed to massage your sore body through the mattress.
You feel even more lost when you wake up just after 5:30 in the morning, fully rested but with muscles still stiff. You’re not sure if Tae’s smoothie did anything or if you’d feel completely dead now without it. It’s not that you want to go back to sleep either, knowing you’ll just wake up even more tired if you try, experience showing that extra hours do more harm than good.
Not wanting to listen to Yoongi’s ongoing snoring any longer, you carefully slip out of bed without waking him and reach for the book you brought with you. But just as you’re about to head out of the suite, you stop, eyeing Yoongi’s coat.
Should you?
You quit smoking months ago, only started when you broke things off with Jungkook, but just thinking about everything that was said yesterday—and what’s still to come—makes you struggle. You’ll probably hate yourself for it afterwards, but still, you go back to his coat and rummage for his cigarettes and lighter.
Realising you only brought one pair of boots, which are currently at Hope’s, and there’s no way you’re stepping out into the snow in slippers or your snowboard boots, you grab Yoongi’s spare designer boots and your snowboard jacket as well.
It’s impressive, really, that you manage to carry everything out of the room without dropping anything, and that Yoongi stays sound asleep despite the obvious rustling of your coat as you move.
You’re thankful Namjoon kept his word about keeping the fireplace lit, not just because its warmth meets you in the corridor but also for the soft glow it casts along the way to the main area.
Pausing for a second, you can hear Yoongi still snoring through the door, along with louder, muffled snores further down the corridor, which must be Namjoon’s. And, who would’ve thought, you hear some very light snoring coming from Jungkook’s room too.
It feels like you’re walking past caves in some forgotten time, surrounded by Neanderthals who snore more to fend off predators than from sinus problems. It’s funny in a way, you reckon. That’s just how biology works, even if you and every other woman in this world are the ones who suffer through the night because of it.
As you reach the main area, of course, you can’t manage all the things you’re holding, and your book falls to the floor, the sound louder than it should be. You think it didn’t wake anyone, but you’re not sure—Jungkook might be awake, he’s always been a light sleeper, though Namjoon’s snoring is too loud now to tell.
Not bothering to pick it up, knowing you’ll drop something else if you try, you kick the book towards the couches, hoping none of the great authors are cursing you for it. The heat of the fireplace, even though it’s only simmering, pulls you to sink back into the cushions once you’ve set your things down.
The hostel feels so much cosier than by daytime, long shadows casting a warm, festive glow like Christmas morning. You almost wish you’d spent the holiday here instead of alone at home.
Just yesterday, you longed for Jungkook to be by your side, to experience this place and this town with you. But now, even though he is here, it doesn’t feel as fulfilling as you thought it would.
Obviously, he’s been here before, and even when he’s spending time with you, it’s under circumstances you wish were different. It destroys you how things are, how you’re treating each other, how much hatred he clearly has for you now, just at the sight of you.
You understand his bitterness though, understand that he probably wishes he’d never seen you again. But what can you do? It’s not like you booked this hostel on purpose, as if you orchestrated the whole thing just to run into him.
No, it’s all just a coincidence. A brutal one at that. You didn’t have time to prepare yourself, didn’t have time to think about how you’d approach him after all this time, or what you’d say.
You reckon he feels the same—blindsided, overwhelmed, hurt. And he has every reason to be. Still, it hurts so deeply, so excruciatingly, that you just want to leave and never look back. It feels like there’s no saving your relationship with Jungkook, not even the hope of being friends.
Or maybe this trip will be the closure you need. Maybe it’ll be the final heartbreak, the one that’s been dragging on for far too long, but now will come to a head and let you move on, even though deep down you don’t want to. You’re sure Jungkook was the one for you—a love once in a lifetime, the one who got away.
Tossing the book from one hand to the other, your eyes can’t help but linger on the pack of cigarettes lying on the table in front of you. It’s dumb, smoking—you know that, always have. But God, you’re broken. You’re so, so sad, it’s suffocating. And you know it won’t help.
You know smoking, like any other addiction, is just a result of loneliness. That doesn’t make it any easier to resist.
You set the book down, slip into Yoongi’s boots again, and pull on your coat, ignoring the voice in your head telling you not to backslide, not to undo months of progress. But still, you ignore that voice as much as you ignore Namjoon’s snoring, and grab the pack and lighter and stand to head outside once you’re fully clothed.
You’d forgotten about the chime when you open the front door, pausing for a moment as if it’s trying to stop you, but you keep moving, letting the door shut behind you as the early morning greets you.
The streets are empty, the air biting cold. But the fairy lights are still on, their glow reflecting silently off the snow and ornaments, but you can’t bring yourself to enjoy it.
Your breath fogs with every exhale as you slowly open the cigarette pack, your hands turning rosy in the cold, warmth steaming off them like dumplings.
You take one out, slip the pack into your coat pocket, and toy with the cigarette between your fingers.
Should you?
You know you shouldn’t.
You.
Know.
But no one’s here to stop you. Who would even care? So you put it between your dry lips and light it, guarding the flame with your hand as if to stop it from dying the way your heart did.
The first drag is equal parts disgusting and relieving, and soon, your thoughts start to fade. Your chest feels lighter, despite the toxins filling it. Maybe breaking up with Jungkook was the first step towards your own downfall. Maybe it was always meant to be.
The front door opens behind you when you’re halfway through your cigarette, but you don’t turn around. There are only three options for who might join you—Yoongi, up for his first smoke of the day; Namjoon, woken by the chime and curious to see what’s going on; or Jungkook. Though you wouldn’t know why it’d be the latter.
“Smoking kills.”
“So does snowboarding,” you reply through the puff of smoke escaping your lips.
“Fair.”
Silence. You can’t bring yourself to look at Jungkook, now standing beside you, both of you staring at some distant ornament, avoiding each other’s gaze.
“What are you doing out here this early?” he asks, as if it’s not obvious.
“Thought I’d get some fresh air.”
There’s no humour in your tone, just defeat, and those few words seem to sap the last bit of energy you have. You feel like you’ve had the same effect on Jungkook—his voice is as dry as yours.
“Funny.”
You know you can’t undo all the damage between you and Jungkook, but still, you want to at least be civil.
“I’m sorry you have to be our instructor. I didn’t know.”
“Sounds like you wouldn’t have booked it if you’d known.”
You shrug. “Probably.”
“Is seeing me again really that unbearable?”
It is.
Of course it is. But only because you can’t bear seeing him having moved on. So you shrug again.
“I see.”
You take the last drag of your cigarette, drop it into the snow, and stomp it out before immediately reaching for another.
“It’s really bad for you.”
“Why do you care, Jungkook?”
“Because you—”
“Please, just let me be, Jungkook.”
It’s desperate, your plea, resigned. And when you finally lock eyes with him, it almost hurts as much as on the day you broke up with him. He looks like he’s stepped straight out of a dream, the smoke from your cigarette swirling up into the sky between you. He’s so beautiful, especially in the morning when he’s just rolled out of bed. But his hurt eyes—hurt that you caused—are something you can’t handle.
“I never did you wrong.”
His words hit like a slap, and you reckon you deserve it, deserve even more, so you let him continue, knowing he’s far from done.
“Why did you leave me?”
You can’t meet his eyes now. Not just because tears burn in the corners of both yours and his, but because you can’t bring yourself to tell him the truth—that you were never worthy of him. That you were never the one for him, not when he’s found someone like Hara, who fits him so much better. So you shrug again, trying to swallow the lump in your throat as your shaky hands lift the cigarette to your lips for another long drag, hoping he’ll think it’s just the cold affecting you, not the emotions welling up inside.
“God, ___.” You see Jungkook look up at the dark sky, rubbing his hands violently against his face and eyes in your peripheral vision. You’re not sure if it’s out of anger, frustration, or pain, and you’re not sure you want to know.
“I’m sorry,” you force out, losing the fight against your tears as they silently roll down your cheeks. Quickly, you turn around, trying to make it back inside before Jungkook notices your breakdown.
“For leaving me, or for being with me in the first place?”
“Both.”
You don’t stop, can’t stop even if you tried. Bolting straight into the hostel, you leave your book where you placed it earlier, your only aim to escape, to get to your suite as fast as possible. Away from all you’ve done and can’t take back.
It’s not like it’s really possible for you to get away from Jungkook, not when he’s still not only very much physically present but still consumes every thought and every space in your heart. It breaks you to see his pain, breaks you even more because you don’t know how to fix it. You’ve created a mess, of the whole situation and of your and his heart, that’s impossible to mend now.
Even if you could, the hurt has left wounds and open scars, which won’t ever heal, especially on Jungkook’s soul, and you reckon he’ll never want you back to begin with.
The door to the suite slams shut behind you, waking up Yoongi, who just turns to look at your broken self, tears still running down in waves.
“Talked to Jungkook?”
“Yes,” you sob.
“Next time, try at daytime, it’s not as emo.”
Well, thank you very much. As if that would have changed a thing. But you don’t bicker this time, knowing that somewhere in Yoongi’s words lies the truth, even if you’re not able to accept it in this moment.
Kicking off his boots and yeeting them across the room where he placed them before you took them, and letting your coat fall off your shoulders, you don’t pay attention to Yoongi’s scolding, disappearing into the bathroom to take a cleansing shower, or rather, to let all the emotions and tears out without being bothered and without being a bother to Yoongi.
It doesn’t take long before the hot water mixes with your tears and for you recognise that you need to somehow get your head straight, or get it checked, because it’s only the second day. A lot more is to come, and you’ll be regretting it if you just wave the white flag and leave. If there’s nothing else you can do, nothing that can help you heal and move on, you want to at least help Jungkook to do so.
You owe it to him, and frankly, that was the main point of why you broke up in the first place. You’ll need to forget your own hurt for the time being, answer all his questions without breaking down again, and you’ll start with that as soon as you’re out of the shower.
“Hurry up! I need to take a piss!”
You’re glad you had half a mind to lock the door, but still, the banging of Yoongi’s fist disturbs you so much, you won’t be able to neither cry nor think in peace.
“Ten more minutes!”
“I’ll piss on your pillow! Open the fucking door!”
Ew. Sighing, you rinse the rest of your shampoo out, hurrying to at least wrap a towel around yourself before unlocking the door. You’re not able to push the handle down because Yoongi bolts inside, ripping his pants down and immediately starting to empty his bladder.
“Ew, gross!”
“Next time, your pillow, ___,” Yoongi sighs, but you’ve already fled the scene. As relatives, you’re close, yes, but not that close.
Nonetheless, you’re thankful for this distraction, even if it just helped you not be dragged further into the blue.
Hearing Yoongi close and lock the bathroom door and turning on the shower does the rest as you now stand fully dressed, with dripping wet hair, in the middle of the suite.
You know there’s no way he’ll open that door back up again, even if you’d knock as violently as he did just now. He simply doesn’t give a fuck. So you see no other option but to get some breakfast with wet hair, knowing there’s not much time left before you’re back on the slopes, or rather the beginner’s hill.
The corridor is empty again, though you hear some chatter from Namjoon and Jungkook down the way. Taking a very deep breath, you try to school your face into happiness, or at least neutrality.
You find both with Jimin in the dining area, the latter unpacking his bread and some pastries onto the table.
“Good morning,” you try to sound as cheerful as possible, but as you lock eyes with Jungkook, you know he notices the red rim around your eyes.
“Hey! Look what I’ve got for you.” Jimin practically explodes with happiness as he gets a see-through box of macarons out of his paper bag.
“No way! Jimin, that wasn’t necessary! Thank you!” You can’t help the genuine smile that spreads across your face, hands eagerly grabbing for them as you unbox them against your stomach, too occupied to even sit down.
“But I wanted to. I’ve never seen someone so obsessed with these.” Jimin laughs his beautiful laugh at your already stuffed smile, as Namjoon just smirks, and Jungkook, well…Jungkook just seems odd.
“Here, at least sit down.” Namjoon offers you the chair beside him, and to be honest, you’d much rather sit somewhere else than face Jungkook, but there’s nothing you can do.
You don’t thank Namjoon this time when he pushes the chair for you to sit down, too embarrassed by your chewing. You shouldn’t have put two macarons in your mouth at once.
“Coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
Jungkook stays silent throughout it all, just watching you, especially watching Namjoon carefully, while you avoid eye contact. Jimin, on the other hand, can’t keep his eyes from flickering between you and Jungkook with a broad smile, as if he senses something’s wrong. He takes the last empty chair at the small table and sits between you and Jungkook.
“Black, so you’re not overdosed.” Namjoon places your coffee in front of you as his eyes also flick to Jungkook, and you’re not sure what’s happening right now.
“Hold up, hold up, I’ve got my favourite with me. Just for you, ___. You liked it the first time, right?” Jimin pulls out a cup of iced Americano from his bag, this time in a fitting container, but you can’t seem to understand why he’d bring you this when, despite you loving it, it hurts you just as much and he knows it.
“You know,” Jimin continues with a glint in his eyes that not only makes you uneasy, but clearly Jungkook as well, the latter looking two seconds away from punching Jimin square in the face. “It’s called ‘Only Love’. Right, C? You created it.”
Ah, that makes a lot of sense now. What doesn’t make sense is you choking on the macaron. You should have put two and two together, to be honest, should have seen the connection the moment Jungkook appeared in front of you with everyone in this forsaken town being friends with him, but frankly, you didn’t.
You haven’t been thinking clearly for years, and you reckon it has something to do with Yoongi, who, even though he’s the only constant in your life now, is equal parts disturbing and unable to help you balance your emotions. Not that it’s his job, but being a bit less insufferable would be nice and a welcome change.
Jimin’s still holding the cup towards you, for longer than would feel just friendly, but now you see all the evil clearly. You don’t really know what to do, especially when you look at Jungkook and see him more pissed than you’ve ever seen before. Should you even take it?
“I… I think I’ll stick to black. Not that I really overdose on sugar or anything.” You stammer, wanting the earth to swallow you up rather than this shit morning continuing into a day full of hatred towards you.
Jungkook just scoffs at that, and you’re sure you hear him mutter “of fucking course, perfect timing” just as Yoongi enters the dining room.
“Morning,” Yoongi mumbles, and right as he’s about to sit at another table, Jimin places the Americano in front of you and gets up.
“No, please, sit down. I was just about to leave.”
Jungkook attempts to call Jimin out on his bullshit, but shuts his mouth in an instant when Yoongi claps Jimin on the back and sits down between you both. Turning to Namjoon, he’s still very much smirking as if he’s figured out the whole situation with you and Jungkook, especially when both his legs nudge yours and his, as if daring you both to say something.
“Bye!” Jimin sings as he’s out of the room before anyone can even breathe.
“You forgot your phone in our room.” Yoongi grumbles, stealing some macarons from you as if they were M&M’s, and preparing his plate. “A coffee please.”
“Black?” Namjoon’s grin spreads across his whole face as he gets up to fetch Yoongi’s order, because, dear lord, it wasn’t a kindly meant request.
“You got it.”
As if the morning hadn’t already strangled your emotions enough, your blood’s now boiling because Yoongi couldn’t just bring your stupid phone with him as if that would have been the greatest task in the world. But somehow, seeing Jungkook’s mood crash even more, you’re glad to have a moment to escape the scene, hoping that when you return, it won’t be with police tape around the place.
You don’t have the faintest idea what’s up with him. It’s not like he’s just mad at you—although you know he definitely is. Hell, you’d be mad at yourself if you were him. But something else must’ve happened, something that’s got him this wound up, not only at the sight of you and Yoongi, but his friends too.
It’s no surprise to find your phone where Yoongi said it would be, and seeing it now, face down, you’re beyond thankful he didn’t just hand it to you in front of everyone.
You just want to grab it quickly and shove it into the tight pocket of your leggings, thinking it’s lying on the info sheet from Namjoon, when Yoongi’s handwriting catches your attention. Black ink, neatly written down for all time:
‘Future’s gonna be okay.’
It soothes and breaks your heart all at once, especially when you spot a teeny tiny black heart too. Yoongi might argue it’s just a splatter from the pen, but you know better. Being close to your cousin is a rollercoaster in every imaginable way, but it’s worth it. Because he cares. Because he’ll understand, even if he doesn’t always show it the way you need.
Taking a very, very deep, steadying breath, you leave the note where it is, knowing you’ll definitely need it when you come back tonight, after what will surely be a wonderful day with Jungkook. You just hope you survive it.
Snowboarding doesn’t even scare you as much as Jungkook does. But you steel yourself not to panic, not to freak out about how clueless you are. Time will tell. Future’s gonna be okay.
And with that thought, you head back to the others, wanting something more substantial in your stomach than sugary sweets.
“Odd?”
“Yeah, odd,” Jungkook growls, and you stop short before entering the room again.
“I think I’m treating her just right for who she is to me,” Yoongi laughs, and you can hear the mischief in his voice, full of shit and in full wind-up mode.
There’s no way you’re really letting this turn into a crime scene, so you march into the room, eyes boring into the back of Yoongi’s head, knowing he’ll feel it.
Thankfully, no one says anything, but the looks speak volumes. Jungkook’s glaring daggers at you, Namjoon’s got that worried, torn look like a parent watching their toddler near the stairs, and Yoongi’s just…amused.
Frankly, your appetite’s vanished, and you don’t want to risk sitting down and getting dragged into whatever mess you’re missing today.
“When do we leave?” You ask Jungkook directly, using a tired, fed-up tone you haven’t dared yet.
It seems to do the trick, sobering everyone up as they take their last bites and gulps of coffee, getting ready to move.
Namjoon, ever the sweetheart, hands you the americano, and this time, you’re grateful for it. Screw the memories—you need caffeine to get through this day. A shot of something stronger in it might’ve been better, but alas.
“Thanks, Joon.”
That, of course, earns you a dirty look from Jungkook and an amused one from Yoongi.
“I’ll just grab my stuff real quick.”
“Yeah, we’re waiting in our slippers,” Yoongi says drily, overtaking Jungkook by the door, who looks at you like he can’t believe this is happening.
You ignore them both, turning to Namjoon to escape the drama, but only stumble into another one instead.
“So he’s your ex.”
You groan, shoulders slumping along with your coffee, exasperated as you realise Namjoon’s got you alone.
“Kinda obvious.”
“It is. Some other things are obvious too.”
You give him a long stare, the kind of stare you’ve perfected from hours of silent contests with Jungkook, but Namjoon, who’s obviously used to this too, isn’t fazed the slightest.
“Spill.”
“You’re both adults. Talk.”
Yeah, like it’s that simple. Sit down, have a rational, level-headed chat with Jungkook? Not likely.
“Thanks for breakfast. I’m out.”
You throw a peace sign over your shoulder, knowing you’re not getting anything more out of him, whether he’s right or wrong.
Being civil with Jungkook would be step one before you could even dream of a productive conversation. But based on how this breakfast is going, hell, the whole stay up until now, it’s clear that ‘civil’ is something you’ll never be when it comes to Jungkook.
“Here.” Yoongi’s brought you your boots and gear, and the reason is instantly clear when Jungkook reappears, glaring at Yoongi like he’s about to snap.
“Could you both please be civil? I’d like to enjoy this holiday,” you snap, so utterly fed up, wishing you could put them both in time-out.
“Sorry,” Yoongi and Jungkook mumble in unison, but the looks they exchange right after make the apology feel pointless.
Even though you’re still struggling way more than you should with these snowboard boots—which surely came straight out of hell just to make your life that little bit more difficult—you still don’t let anyone help you. Not Jungkook, who stopped moving towards you after you shot him an evil glare, and not Yoongi, who suffered the same fate.
Eventually, you manage, somehow. And when you’re ready to go, the three of you grab your snowboards, which are leaning against the wall near the fireplace. It’s not easy to carry yours on your own, especially when the sharp edge cuts into your gloved palm and your other hand is occupied with your Americano. The bindings are digging into your forearm with their stupid weight distribution, but there’s no way you’re going to drag it any other way. Not when you’re not willing to sacrifice your caffeine—that’s just not happening in any lifetime of yours.
Yoongi, for once, is chivalrous enough to open the door for you, but you can’t really appreciate it like you would under normal circumstances. Your nerves are running thin—so thin you’re half-tempted to just smash the chime to dust with your snowboard to shut it up yourself. But you’re not strong enough, and with your luck, Jungkook—who’s walking right behind you—would probably end up on the receiving end of your terrible aim.
No one says a word during the entire walk to the hill, which, now that you think about it, feels worse than all the snide remarks. It’s not like fighting—or going straight for each other’s throats—is the best solution, but this simmering tension isn’t much better either. And you reckon it’s only a matter of time before someone goes off like a bloody nuclear bomb.
Though the real question is, who?
You’d love nothing more than to get inside Jungkook’s head, to take a peek at whatever thoughts are running through his pretty head and figure out why he’s been acting like this—irrational around others, but all sentimental when it’s just the two of you. It’s starting to seriously grate on your nerves.
Seeing that he wants to talk about everything that went down between you both is something you never thought would happen. But his approach? Not ideal. There’s no way you’re having a deep conversation with him before the day has even properly started, and definitely not in the middle of the street. And you’d much rather not have this conversation with others around too, thank you very much.
But the thing is, you’re still not sure if you want to be alone with him. What if your resolve to be all mature and talk like adults crumbles the second he looks at you with those sad eyes again? What if he’s just looking for answers so he can have the closure you know you’ll never get?
The thought feels selfish in every possible way. It disgusts you too, but you’re only human, not some robot who can function without feeling, without knowing what love or losing it is.
You let out a loud sigh, no longer able to bear the weight of the world—or the burning gaze of Jungkook boring into your back.
“S’up?” Yoongi nudges you causing you to sway, the heavy drag of your boots not helping either.
“Just enjoying the fresh air.” You bullshit, stepping right up the snow at the base of the beginners hill.
“The only thing getting fresh air are my middle ears. Fucking feel the inflammation building.”
You’re sure Jungkook hadn’t intended to snort at Yoongi’s remark, but even he can’t seem to resist the humour in the nonsense that sometimes escapes Yoongi’s mouth.
“Some air gonna knock you out?” you tease, trying to nudge Yoongi back, though you fail miserably.
Thankfully, Jungkook’s quick enough to steady you with a free hand before you face-plant into the snow, which is far from the fluffy stuff it was yesterday—now hard as stone.
“You know you’re old when air’s hurting you, ___. You’ll understand when you’re my age.”
You hope that‘ll not be true.
“Alright,” Jungkook claps once, and you and Yoongi fall into line in front of him after setting your boards and coffee aside. “Yesterday we covered most of the snowboarding theory. Three important things. What are they?”
Silence.
“Awareness, balance, control.”
It’s clear Jungkook’s waiting for something, and after a few agonising moments of just staring at each other, it clicks. He wants you to repeat what he said.
“Awareness,” you start, but Yoongi either hasn’t caught on or really doesn’t care, but you give him a nudge, and eventually, the two of you echo back Jungkook’s words.
“Awareness, balance, control.”
“Right, now, while we’re at it—let’s talk a bit more theory. After awareness, balance, and control, it’s all about anticipation. You can’t just react to things at the last minute, yeah? You’ve got to anticipate the changes. Know what’s coming. Whether it’s an obstacle in your path, a turn, or… someone doing something you didn’t expect.”
“For fuck’s sake, Jungkook! Man up and say it to my face if you’ve got something to say!”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“Fuck you did! And you—shut your fucking mouth!” You jab your gloved finger at Yoongi, who stops laughing immediately.
You’re not sure what’s gotten into Jungkook to act so irrational again, but whatever it is, you’ve had enough. Either he stays professional during the lesson, or you’re out. This kind of treatment—whatever you did to him or not—isn’t something you’ll tolerate. Not from him, not from anyone.
Jungkook seems to realise his mistake, or maybe he just doesn’t have the guts to confront you directly about what’s been bothering him. You reckon after all these years, he still hasn’t learned how to communicate properly. Then again, you’re not exactly great at that either.
“How about you stick to teaching during the course and stay in your lane? How about I can at least enjoy this for a few hours?”
Jungkook just nods, not the least approving, and if it weren’t for Yoongi placing a hand on your heaving shoulder and sucking his teeth, you might’ve lunged at Jungkook and strangled him right then and there.
“Right, well, before we get onto the boards, we need to warm up. Can’t have you both pulling muscles before you even touch the snow properly.”
“Please, no running,” Yoongi mutters under his breath.
“No, no running. First up, let’s stretch. Loosen up those muscles. Very important. Otherwise, you might… strain yourself. And trust me, some people,” he side-eyes you, “have a habit of rushing into things without getting properly prepared or listening to what the other person has to say.”
You grit your teeth. Oh, you’re so ready to kill him. If looks could kill, both you and Jungkook would be dead by now. “What the fuck is your problem?” you seethe dangerously low.
“So, what are we doing first? Jumping jacks? Star jumps?” Yoongi asks sarcastically, more to defuse the situation than out of any real interest in actually participating in this course.
“No, mate. We’re not at boot camp. Just a simple warm-up to start. Arms, legs, get the blood flowing.” Jungkook begins rolling his shoulders and doing some arm circles. “Follow me. Arms out, nice and wide. Slow circles. Loosen up your shoulders. You need a good range of movement, especially when you’re… navigating tricky situations.”
You and Yoongi do your best to follow along, despite the thick jackets. Opting to be the bigger person here, you do your best to ignore Jungkook’s pointed glances and the occasional gust of cold air grazing your stomach whenever you raise your arms too high.
“Good. Now, bend forward, touch your toes—well, try to. Don’t force it. Some people are naturally more flexible than others, but hey, no rush.”
Throughout the whole stretching exercises, you keep your mouth shut, knowing that playing into his madness wouldn’t do either of you any good. You just can’t process it all at this point. And how could you?
Since the moment you stepped foot into this stupid little town, you haven’t had a minute to think. Especially not after Jungkook entered your life again. You’re jealous of all the people out there who can adapt to every moment, who aren’t as utterly pathetic at handling things as you are.
It must be genetics, because, dear lord, you’ve never been good at handling tricky situations, but the ones involving your ex are on another level. You can tell yourself to be cool and collected as much as you want, but at the end of the day, Jungkook will always trigger you.
And if it’s not with his passive-aggressive remarks, it’s with his broken sadness.
“Perfect. Let’s move on then. Before we get into the snowboards, I’ll just have to adjust your bindings real quick, and then we’ll start. For that, I’ll need to see which foot of yours is the dominant one.”
Jungkook walks silently behind you both, looking down at the snow with a slight frown on his lips while you follow his movements with your eyes.
“I’ll start with you, Yoongi. Relax your stance, I’ll push you from behind. Don’t think too much, just catch yourself, yeah?”
Jungkook’s now standing directly behind Yoongi, and as he raises his hand and places it on Yoongi’s back, right between his shoulder blades, your gut twists, fearing Jungkook might push him too hard, letting his anger out because he can’t restrain himself.
But to your relief, Jungkook pushes Yoongi ever so lightly, causing the older man to take a step forward, landing on his right foot.
“Right foot back, your stance is regular.” Jungkook just nods to himself, moving on to stand behind you now. “Your turn, ___. Again, just relax, don’t overthink it. I’ll push you now.”
How can you stay relaxed when Jungkook’s now directly behind you, when you not only feel the weight of his hand on your back but imagine you can feel the warmth of it too? It nearly leaves you gasping, not used to Jungkook touching you anymore.
“Relax,” Jungkook mutters ever so softly, causing your shoulders to drop as you take a deep breath, willing yourself to block him out as best you can.
The push is gentle, and while you take a step forward out of reflex, it’s the same reflex that misses his hand on your back.
“Left is your dominant foot, so goofy’s your stance.”
“Goofy?!”
It sounds offensive. Does it sound offensive? Because both Yoongi and Jungkook look at you, puzzled by your outburst.
Wasn’t that another jab?
“Yeah, it’s called goofy,” Jungkook says, Yoongi nodding as if to tell you to calm down.
“Oh. Okay.”
Jungkook pulls a tiny toolbox from the inner pocket of his jacket while you follow Yoongi, who’s picking up his board. He takes Yoongi’s snowboard first, placing it on his bent knee and unscrewing the first binding.
“Forefoot 18 degrees, back foot 7 degrees,” Yoongi mutters, not the least bit mocking.
You’re not sure why Yoongi has a preference, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to question it, just nodding and adjusting Yoongi’s bindings to his liking.
When it’s your turn, Jungkook still doesn’t say anything as he takes the board from your hands, and while the adjustments look just the same as Yoongi’s to you, it’s clear both men see the difference as Yoongi interjects, “Fix the left one a bit more outwards, it’ll give her more control.”
Jungkook looks up at that, not angered, not ready to snap, as his eyes flit briefly to you before he eventually just nods and does as Yoongi suggested. Maybe not playing into Jungkook’s remarks earlier was the right course of action, seeing that even though it’s still awkward between you three, it’s more civil than it was before.
Jungkook stuffs his toolbox back into his pocket and turns to grab his own snowboard. As he straps his right foot into the binding, he calls out, “Fasten your front foot onto the board. We’re practising gliding.”
Yoongi does as instructed without a hitch, but you’re struggling a bit. The straps keep getting in the way, making it impossible to secure your foot properly.
Without a word, Jungkook hops over, dragging his board behind him, and quickly fastens the bindings for you.
“Thanks,” you mutter, but he doesn’t meet your eyes, just nods before heading back in front of you both.
“So, it’s simple. Push yourself forward with your free foot, step on the board, and glide for as long as you can. It’ll help you get a feel for the board. And remember—where you look is where you go. Look down, you’ll fall. Look forward, and you’ll be fine as long as your balance is decent.”
Jungkook demonstrates the glide with ease, while Yoongi follows suit right after, looking like he’s done this before, making it seem like a breeze.
Alright, how hard can it be?
Turns out, pretty damn hard. As soon as you try, your arms flail like mad, desperately trying to regain balance. You stumble forward, managing to catch yourself at the last second, but not before the board lifts off the ground and slams right into your calf.
“Ouch!”
It hurts like hell, and you’re certain a bruise is already forming.
“Take it slow, no rush,” Jungkook says, not even glancing back.
You try a few more times, and while it feels like you’re going to lose a leg by the end of the day, you’re slowly getting the hang of it.
Yoongi’s already finished, standing beside Jungkook and watching you like some proud parent their child who’s learning to swim. You don’t mind though—better that than getting frustrated watching him nail everything effortlessly.
“That’s great, let’s move up the hill and practise side slipping. It’s like a lazy way to snowboard, but it’s useful.”
Dragging yourself up the hill feels like a workout in itself with your board still clasped onto your foot, your calf still throbbing from earlier.
“First things first,” Jungkook’s bending down to his board, “strap your other foot in as well. You want to be on your heel edge or your toe edge. We’ll start with heels, ‘cause if you start on your toes and mess up, you’ll just end up pissed off.”
Once again, Jungkook demonstrates the technique, and once again, Yoongi seems to pick it up straight away. Meanwhile, you’re down on your ass every other minute, frustration building but refusing to quit just yet. Jungkook lets you keep at it until you’ve finally got the hang of it, while Yoongi again just stands there with him, chatting the day away, apparently needing no extra practice.
“Why doesn’t he have to practise?” you yell down the hill.
“Because he doesn’t need to.”
You’re fuming, but deep down you know Jungkook’s right. Still, Yoongi’s supposed to be doing this with you, not just standing there like a supervisor. The anger helps though, because as you slide down the hill again, it’s smooth and controlled—and you feel damn proud of yourself.
“Alright, next exercise. We’re going to slide down on your toe edge now. Flip over so you’re facing up the hill, with your toes digging into the snow.”
You’re already panting from the climb back up the hill, but there’s no rest in sight. Jungkook leaves his board behind as you drag yourself up again, determined to finish this.
“Now,” Jungkook says, “bend your knees, lean forward slightly—like you’re bowing to a king. Lift your heels off the snow, so you’re balanced on your toes. And don’t panic if it feels weird at first. Yoongi, can you please demonstrate?”
“Sure,” Yoongi says, nailing the move effortlessly.
You can’t figure out why Yoongi’s suddenly Jungkook’s little helper, or why Jungkook’s board is still down the hill, but you focus on trying to imitate Yoongi’s technique. You get into position, dig your toes in, but the next second, you slip, barely catching yourself before faceplanting into the snow.
Jungkook’s by your side in seconds, pulling you up by the arms. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” you pant, swallowing the panic that’s rising in your chest. But your grip on his arms gives away just how terrified you are.
“Come on, I’ll help you.”
Jungkook’s hands slide down your arms until he’s holding your hands securely, but just as quickly, he lets go. You immediately lose your balance, nearly falling backwards as your whole life flashes before your eyes.
“Shit!” His hands grab you at the last second, keeping you from toppling over.
“Don’t just let go like that!”
“Why are your gloves this wet?”
You don’t have time to defend yourself against Jungkook’s scolding as he abruptly forces his leg between yours, angling his heel between the snow and your board to keep you in place and balance.
The proximity to Jungkook has an instant effect on you. Your brain shuts down, and though your blood is rushing through your veins at an overwhelming speed, it somehow calms you down just the same.
Being this close to him, not only seeing him but feeling all of his body pressed against yours, mixed with his intoxicating scent, makes you never want to let go of him again.
“Hold onto me,” he murmurs softly, the closeness making it unnecessary to speak any louder than a breath.
You can’t help yourself, staring at his face, even though he’s avoiding eye contact as he removes your gloves, letting them fall silently behind him. You reckon he hasn’t changed much—just a few piercings and some faint lines caused by age now marking his otherwise mesmerising face. But still, he’s the same.
The same lashes framing his big eyes, the same kissable lips now a bit cracked from the cold, the same glowing skin with that faint scar on his cheek.
It throws you back in time but also makes you ache for all the time spent apart. It’s impossible to feel resentment for the harsh things he’s said, impossible to feel anything but the deep love you still have for him. It’s impossible to look away, even though he isn’t meeting your gaze, busy tugging off his gloves with his teeth.
When his hand reaches for yours, wrapping them in the warmth of his own gloves, you feel like you might break right then and there. You’ve been a fool for pushing him away, for ending things in the first place, when he’s always been this good to you—even now, after all these years.
When Jungkook finally finishes and his eyes meet yours for the first time, you don’t dare breathe, even if you physically could. It’s like the heartbreak never happened, healed by the closeness of two hearts that know they can only beat as one.
You see it in his eyes, like you always could back then, that he feels it too—or at least something close to what you feel.
“I never meant to hurt you,” you manage to say, your voice breaking ever so faintly, with a slight sheen of tears coating your eyes.
“I know,” Jungkook smiles ever so softly, as if he’s always known, as if he understands. But still, he steps back, leaving you cold and longing again, only holding your hands just firmly enough to help you keep your balance. “Try again, toes in the snow, knees bent.”
You swallow the hurt down, knowing you’ve got no right to feel this way, and with Jungkook’s help, you slide down the hill. You succeed, but as soon as you reach the base, Jungkook steps back completely, walking over to Yoongi while instructing, “Try again now on your own.”
And you do. Multiple times until you master it as best you can, all while you know you’re being watched by the two most important men in your life.
Lunch is spent in a tiny fast-food restaurant nearby, just because you’re so hungry you can’t wait ages for a proper meal. Jungkook excuses himself to take a phone call, and you notice a picture of Hara on his screen, though you weren’t fast enough to see whose name was at the top, or if it’s his lock screen or Hara’s contact picture.
“Why are you so good at snowboarding?” you try to sound angry, though your mouth is stuffed, hoping Yoongi can still make sense of the words.
“I’ve been snowboarding before.”
“You what?” You swallow the bite forcefully, needing space to articulate the insults he deserves. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why am I paying for a crash course for you?”
“I didn’t thi—”
“Why the fuck have I paid for and rented your gear?!”
Yoongi goes silent, eating his meal like he’s bored, giving you time to yell at him some more before he speaks. But you don’t, just widen your eyes and shake your head to emphasise how livid you are.
“I didn’t think you’d want to come alone.”
“That’s such a shit excuse, Yoongs. You should have at least paid for yourself. Fucking parasite.”
“Yo, show some respect. You said you’d pay for everything. It’s not like I forced you.”
“Forced me?! You wouldn’t have come otherwise!”
“I can still hang in our suite and leave you alone with Mr. Leaf-in-the-wind.”
“That’s rude.”
“It’s true, and you know it.”
He’s kinda right. But you can see where Jungkook’s coming from, somehow understand why he’s acting the way he does.
You sigh at that, leaning back with another mouthful of food, knowing you should really work on your manners. “You’re not leaving me alone with him. No way.”
“If you say so.”
You startle slightly when Jungkook slides into the seat beside you, hoping he didn’t catch any of what was said while he was gone. And even though you’re dying to know who was calling, you’d rather strip bare in the middle of the restaurant than ask, not wanting to look like some jealous, controlling ex-girlfriend.
“Hara called,” you fucking knew it. “Said Namjoon’s arranged dinner at Jin’s.”
You and Yoongi just hum, though you reckon you’re the only one finding it rude. But who can blame you? You are jealous, you are a fucking control freak, and Jungkook looking the way he does definitely doesn’t help.
You hadn’t noticed before, thanks to his oversized clothes, just how buff he’s become. But seeing him now, his upper body hugged by thermal gear so tight it might as well be see-through, makes you even pettier than you already were at the mention of Hara. And how could you not be?
Clearly, he’s been working out more since you split. Maybe you were holding him back from getting in shape too. It’s funny—you always thought Jungkook peaked while he was with you, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
You force the rest of your meal down in silence, occasionally glancing up at Jungkook and Yoongi, who are doing the same. It’s not like you want this silence to linger, but you don’t know what to say, and neither do they.
It’s slightly bothering you that both men were comfortable enough to chat the whole morning away while you were busy trying not to face-plant into the snow, and now can’t seem to say a single word with you around. Maybe you were the problem all along.
Ugh, you hate having those thoughts again, especially since you’ve made such progress with your self-esteem recently, and now it’s crashing back down, spiralling like something you can’t escape.
When everyone’s finally finished, you pack up your things and step back outside into the cold, hoping the rest of the day goes by as civilly as the last few hours have been.
Hours later, you’re spent. So utterly spent you’re sure you won’t make it to Jin’s without falling asleep midway through. Like Snow White, you want to lie down and sleep, and for no one to kiss you awake. Though, if you think about it, Jungkook would make a formidable prince.
Stop. You can’t think like this, you won’t allow such homewrecker thoughts. Not when things went well after lunch and there’s hope you can talk shit out.
After finally managing to learn how to take turns on that snowboard straight out of hell, and now being able to proudly say you can get down the beginners’ hill without breaking a single bone, you feel more accomplished than you ever have. Still, you hate snowboarding, and still won’t be doing it again once the two weeks are up.
“Why aren’t we eating at the hostel?”
You didn’t mean to say it out loud, not with Namjoon walking right beside you, and it might come off as though you’re calling him out for saying he’d be your chef during the trip, but hasn’t cooked a single thing for you yet. Namjoon’s blush only deepens your regret, though he takes it in stride.
“Well…uhm…I just thought that—”
“He can’t cook to save his life.” Jungkook interrupts Namjoon’s clear attempt to save face, and you’d never expected to see such a smug look on Jungkook’s face while throwing his friend under the bus.
“Oh, that’s cute. Plenty of women like to cook for their man.” You nudge Namjoon, hoping it’ll ease the tension just a little.
“Ah, I don’t know about that.”
“Did you watch the game?” Jungkook asks, louder than necessary, slowing his pace so he falls in beside Namjoon, forcing you to step aside to avoid colliding with his stupid back.
The glare he sends your way matches your own, and you’re sure you can read in his eyes that he wants you to back off from his friend. You barely register what Namjoon and Yoongi are talking about, something vivid about an epic basketball game, too caught up in a silent conversation with Jungkook about what his problem is—and yours. But it’s like you’re out of sync, all questions missed, and answers elusive throughout the whole short walk to Jin’s.
You hadn’t expected Jin’s to be such a lavish restaurant. Despite having the same rustic feel as the rest of the town, there’s a touch of poshness that makes it more enchanting than any other place you’ve been.
Jungkook wastes no time after stepping inside behind you, passing you to get to the bar where Hara and Hope are perched. Sadly, or maybe thankfully, you don’t see how he greets them, as a man steps into your view, broad shoulders blocking everything else.
“Welcome! I’m Jin! You must be ___.”
Jin practically squeezes you to death with his hug, your sore muscles protesting at how tight he holds you. You can’t hold back your laugh, not only because his greeting is the warmest you’ve ever received, but because you know the moment he lets go of you, he’ll do the same to Yoongi.
“Thanks for having us, Jin,” you squeak, tapping his back in hopes it’ll make him release you.
“Oh please, I’m so thrilled to finally meet you both.” Jin beams down at you before turning to throw himself at Yoongi, just as you predicted. “Yoongi, hi!”
“Please let go of me.” But Jin doesn’t listen, and you think he squeezes your grumpy cousin even tighter than before until he finally lets him go too.
“I’ve prepared a whole course for you three. I know Jungkook can be a bit demanding with his food, so I’ll make sure you’re well fed.”
Jin guides you to a table near the bar, and like the little control freak you are, you opt for the chair that gives you a view of the whole restaurant, including the bar. You don’t have a great view of Jungkook and Hara, though, as Namjoon is standing perfectly in front of them, but you think you see Hara leaning against Jungkook.
It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, twisting the knife of jealousy oh-so-slowly in your gut. You’re not sure how Jungkook could have found someone new so quickly, especially after telling you over and over again that you were the love of his life. Maybe it was just heartbreak that drove him to find solace in someone else. Maybe it’s just a hungry heart wanting to be fed with a fraction of love.
But you don’t want to assume that Hara’s love for him can’t compete with yours. Even though a part of you is certain that what you felt—and still feel—for him is beyond anything humanly possible. And even if her love for him is pure, yours will always outshine hers. Or maybe that’s just the green-eyed monster talking, infecting your thoughts.
But so be it. There’s nothing left to lose after you lost Jungkook, after you lost yourself, not just during your relationship with him, but in so much more.
Jin takes your drink order, and while at first you thought a Diet Coke would be nice after today, you opt for a whole bottle of wine. Not to share. Oh no, it’s entirely for yourself, because if you’re going to spend the evening witnessing Jungkook with his new flame, you’re definitely not doing it sober.
“You look jealous.”
“You don’t say.”
“Talk to him.”
“About what, Yoongs?” you snap as quietly as possible, fingers digging into the tablecloth to stop yourself from losing it. “How he’s fucking that model? Or how easy it was for him to move on?”
“That would be a start.”
“You’re ridiculous. Now shut up, they’re coming over.”
It’s not like you want to stare, but seeing Jungkook so at ease with Hara makes your stomach turn. And why Yoongi had to sit opposite you, leaving no other option but for Hara and Jungkook to sit on either side of you, is something you’ll never forgive him for.
“Hey!” Hara greets you both so warmly that you regret bashing her in your thoughts. Even if she’s Jungkook’s girlfriend, she’s always been nice to you.
“Hey, how have you been?”
Jin takes this moment to bring over a tray full of drinks. Yoongi has a beer, Hara a glass of water like Jungkook—yuck—and he sets the whole bottle of wine with a fitting glass in front of you. You should feel embarrassed, but you really don’t.
“You want some too?” you ask Hara out of politeness, knowing Jungkook never drinks during the week, as you pour yourself a generous first glass of your survival drink, wanting nothing more than to down it all before dinner starts.
“Oh no, thank you! I’m pregnant.”
The bottle’s still in your hand, but the glass is already at your lips with a hearty sip in your mouth, which you promptly snort back into the glass. You’re not sure if the tears springing to your eyes are just from the wine burning your sinuses and uncontrollably coughs or from your heart crumbling into dust at this revelation.
Jungkook—bless the tiny space you still occupy in his heart—is at your side in seconds, helping you recover from the near-death experience, but his touch feels scolding now.
Scolding in a way that makes you think back to all the times he said he wanted to be a dad, to all the times he fucked you raw and let his kink give you the best orgasms of your life. And eventually, you have to force yourself not to picture it—how he found all of that with Hara.
“Congratulations!” you manage to force out after everyone’s back in their seats and a bit of quiet has settled.
“Thank you! We’re all so happy, right?” Hara caresses her stomach, beaming at Jungkook, who looks just as thrilled as she does.
“Yeah! It’s going to have a wonderful mother.”
“Duh.” She laughs, sipping her water while you drown your glass, smiling and nodding as if you couldn’t agree more.
You don’t recall much of the conversations during dinner, don’t remember the sweet lies you told to hide how broken you are. But when Jungkook and Hara disappear into the kitchen after the meal, you grab Yoongi from his chair and drag him towards the door.
“Bye! Thanks for dinner!” you call to Namjoon and Hope, who look confused, but you’re too tipsy to care. Too tipsy to make out what Jin says to you as he rushes out of the kitchen, while you stumble outside.
“What was that?” Yoongi pulls his arm out of your grasp, hating it when you’re like this.
But you can’t hold it together anymore, alcohol always making you sad, emotional, and sentimental. Maybe it was the last straw—time to let Jungkook go, though him being so wound up this morning still nags at your mind.
“I’ve changed my mind.” You start walking towards the hostel, hearing Yoongi following, the snow crunching under your feet. “You’re free to do whatever you want.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Yes, you are. You need to end this limbo once and for all.
“I need answers, and I won’t get any if I’m not alone with Jungkook.”
Day 3
Maybe opting to spend the day alone with Jungkook wasn’t the best idea you’ve had. Not that it isn’t necessary to finally get the answers that have been piling up, but you’re not sure how to ask him without it turning into an interrogation.
Facing Jungkook first thing this morning would’ve been too much too, especially since you’ve barely had time to process the pregnancy bomb Hara dropped on you. So, sneaking out of the hostel it is.
You regret not stopping by Hope’s to grab your winter boots, but with no other option, you head out in full snowboarding gear, aiming to grab breakfast at Jimin’s.
What you didn’t expect was to spot Hara in the pastry shop as you stand outside, staring longingly at the treats like a starving kid. You can’t face her right now, so you quickly turn and decide to head anywhere else but here or the hostel, hoping there’s another bakery somewhere in town.
But of course, in your bulky snowboarding gear, you’re not exactly inconspicuous, looking more like an oversized ball of dark fabric against the snow. Naturally, Jimin spots you straight away, waving you in like you originally planned.
And of course, Hara notices too, her soft eyes and glowing smile radiating warmth as she waves at you.
Forcing a smile, you head to the entrance and with one deep breath, step into the lion’s den, thinking breakfast spent with Jungkook would have been the better option.
“Morning, ___!”
“Hey Hara. Jimin.”
You’re still a bit pissed at Jimin for being a little shit yesterday, stirring the pot between you and Jungkook for no reason. But seeing him now, friendly and without the evil glint in his eyes, tempers your anger just a bit.
“The usual?”
“I didn’t know I had one,” you laugh, now standing beside Hara, who’s practically pressed up against the glass display of sweets. It’s kind of cute, and you reckon the pregnancy hormones are hitting her hard, especially this early in the morning.
“I’d die for a coffee,” she mumbles, fogging up the glass and quickly wiping it clear again to not spoil her view.
Jimin’s back is to both of you, already busy with the coffee machine. “I could make you a decaf.”
“No, I read somewhere that decaf isn’t really decaf. And while nursing, caffeine stays in the baby’s system for up to three days. I don’t even want to think about how long it stays in their system when they’re still in the womb.”
“Oh, that’s wild. I didn’t know that.” You’re genuinely shocked by the news, and a little concerned for any women who don’t know either.
“Yeah.” Hara sighs, fogging the glass up again and immediately wiping it clean.
Why Jimin’s not serving Hara first and is making your coffee instead is beyond you, but you don’t say anything. Maybe she can’t decide what to eat just yet, or there’s something she’s avoiding. Either way, you don’t want to end up as the town’s biggest grouch.
“Aren’t you warm?” Hara asks, glancing at you, though her gaze keeps drifting back to the sweets.
“Yeah.” You stammer a little, awkwardly taking off your coat, walking back to the door to hang it up on the rack, which has been bodged together again. You realise quickly that Namjoon or Jimin clearly aren’t cut out for DIY which is definitely a pass.
“Something to eat?”
“Yes,” you and Hara answer in unison, though hers is more of a relieved sigh, making you giggle as you make your way to the table you sat at some days ago.
“What’ll it be then?”
“How about a bit of everything as an apology?” you tease, unable to let his mischief slide like you probably should.
“Touche.”
“What did he do again?” Hara’s now sitting beside you, both of you watching Jimin as he diligently piles treats onto a massive plate. A brief flicker of guilt runs through you as you think about the way you’ve been eating lately, except for that one perfect meal at Jin’s. But you’re only here for a few days, so you might as well make the most of it. There’s no way you’re saying no to all this food, especially when Jimin owes you more than that.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Mhm, sure,” you smirk, crossing your arms as you exchange glances with Hara, who’s clearly curious and ready for some gossip, even if it’s at your expense.
She looks stunning in the soft morning light filtering through the window, her thick black hair falling in loose waves like she’s fresh from a blowout. Maybe it’s just good genes, because her skin is flawless—no makeup, no blemishes, no dark circles.
Maybe, in another life, she could’ve been a friend. But there’s no way you could ever be close to someone who’s got the man you love.
“Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad.”
“What did he do?” Hara’s leaning forward now, elbows on the table, hands framing her perfect face as she eagerly looks between you and Jimin, clearly hooked on your tea.
“He’s been a little shit, stirring trouble.”
“I just brought you your favourite,” Jimin grins innocently, making his way to the table. But you can clearly see the mischievous glint in his eyes again, and before you know it, he’s setting down the dreaded americano in front of you. Hara’s already grabbed a macaron, barely waiting for the plate to touch the table.
“What’s so bad—” Hara starts, talking through a mouthful of food in a way only you could relate to, but Jimin cuts her off.
“She’s his ex.”
Hara’s reaction is immediate—she starts choking on her pastry, and you flash back to last night when you nearly drowned yourself with wine. You’re unsure what to do, hesitating with your hands hovering over her, worried about whether patting a pregnant woman on the back is safe as your panic rises. Luckily, Jimin sprints behind the counter, grabs a bottle of water, and leaps back over to hand it to her.
Thankfully, Hara recovers quickly, and your heart slows down as you see she’s alright.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?!”
That’s…not the reaction you were expecting.
“If you’d just checked the group chat, you’d know.”
“Wait, you have a group chat where you talk about me?!”
“Not important.” Hara waves you off with a hand, though the growing smile on her face makes the gesture anything but rude. She pulls out her phone and starts scrolling through missed messages, clearly catching up on something you’re not privy to.
You try to sneak a glance at her screen, but she leans away, blocking your view. Instead, you watch her face as she scrolls—at first, there are little giggles, but soon her expression sours into a full-on pout.
What the hell are they texting about you? Isn’t that illegal or something?
“Why?” she whines, looking at Jimin while your confusion just deepens.
“Dunno. Ask Namjoon.”
“Namjoon?” The name slips out before you can stop yourself. It doesn’t make any sense for him to be involved in this.
Hara lets out an exasperated sigh, sinking into her seat like she already knows the answer Namjoon would give but is too drained to accept it. “Ugh, no way.”
You clear your throat, hoping to redirect the conversation, though the frustration is building. “Namjoon?”
“Yeah, Namjoon. Now eat before it gets cold.”
“Your pastries are cold,” you shoot back, but Jimin just waves it off.
“See? Now eat.” And with that, he disappears through the door leading to the back, leaving you stewing. You hate him for this—stirring up chaos and then vanishing as if he didn’t cause it in the first place.
Hara, meanwhile, seems lost in her thoughts, again eating, one hand’s wrapped around a croissant, the other clutches a muffin. How she manages to look like she’s stepped straight out of a commercial is beyond you, and somehow it fits that Jungkook would be with someone like her.
You hesitate, not daring to nudge her. You’ve never spent much time around pregnant women—how fragile are they, really? Better safe than sorry.
“Namjoon?” you ask again, more gently this time.
Her eyes flick up to yours, as if she momentarily forgot where she was. There’s no defensiveness in her gaze, only a soft apology. She places the muffin down and reaches out to touch your arm after wiping it clean on her sweater, her hand gentle and comforting like a mother consoling a child. She’s really going to make a great mum.
“I’m sorry, love. I can’t tell you.”
Surprisingly, it doesn’t make you angry. You should be furious, with how cryptic everyone’s being, and especially with how inconsistent Jungkook’s been treating you lately. But you can see the sincerity in Hara’s face. She really is sorry, and somehow, that makes it harder to be mad. She’s just…lovable in all the ways you’re sure you never could be.
So you just nod, defeated, and finally start eating your breakfast as well. Thinking about all the conversations you could have with Hara right now makes deciding which one you’d actually want to have not that easy.
Asking about her pregnancy could be a start, maybe how far along she is since she’s not showing yet. It would be a question asked just for the sake of it, to get to know her a bit better. Because quite frankly, even if you checked Jungkook’s or her social media to confirm if he was in town and might be the father of Hara’s child, it wouldn’t really help. The evidence wouldn’t be enough, seeing as he’d apparently be in Hawaii now if you took socials as proof.
Asking her how her relationship with Jungkook is? Not an option. Why would you willingly want to hear anything about their intimacy? Definite no.
Her childhood? Pass.
Her job? Don’t care.
Whether she has pets? Hmm, that would be nice to know. You love animals, regardless of their owner, so that’s where you settle.
This time though, you swallow the bite of food before speaking to Hara, who’s managed to eat half of the huge plate sitting before you both while you were lost in thought. Just as you part your lips, inhaling enough air to ask your first personal question, she freezes mid-bite with a half-eaten cinnamon roll in hand, her eyes wide.
“Oh no…” she breathes, mortified, cradling her stomach as she drops the roll and bolts towards the nearby toilet, gagging.
To your dismay, she doesn’t close the door behind her, and you can hear her throwing up everything she’s eaten so far, which sets off your own stomach. You start gagging too, barely able to stand, hating this reaction you’ve had since childhood whenever someone’s vomiting or even gagging near you.
You need to leave. Now. So you call out a quick “sorry” and “bye” with your hand over your mouth, grab your coat while passing the sad excuse of a fixed coat rack and rush outside. You’re not even fazed by the freezing cold, just relieved to be as far away from the sound of vomiting as possible.
Seeing no other option than to go back to the hostel and get your snowboard, you try to calm yourself as much as you can. It’s finally time to face Jungkook alone, how you’ll manage, you don’t know—but you’ll figure it out as you go.
When you enter the hostel, Jungkook’s already standing in full gear in the main area, turning his head from the hallway leading to the rooms when the chime signals your arrival. He looks confused for a moment, but as you approach your snowboard, you try not to let his presence faze you.
Though you fail miserably when your voice embarrassingly cracks. “Good morning.”
Jungkook still has the same effect on you. Anytime your eyes catch even a glimpse of him, whether in person or just a pixelated picture on the internet, he takes your breath away and makes you flustered all over again. It’s not like it’s something new—he’s had that effect on you ever since the first time you saw him, when he was tapping on your car window, asking if you needed help as you were clearly having a breakdown because you couldn’t, for the life of you, park in the narrow side street.
“Morning. Where’s your other half?” Jungkook’s voice turns slightly bitter, but as you look at him, you can tell he’s more irritated with himself than anything.
“He’s not coming.”
Jungkook raises an eyebrow in question, walking towards the door to leave for the hill.
“He doesn’t need it. It’s just us. Or should we cancel the lesson altogether?” You grin at him as you walk beside each other, playful but secretly hoping for a way out that won’t involve you breaking a bone today.
“No, ‘s fine.” You think you catch a small smile tugging at Jungkook’s lips, but he quickly pulls his scarf up over his mouth, hiding it.
“Did you sleep well?”
You mull over his question, wondering if whining about being awake most of the night because of Yoongi’s snoring, which could probably warrant a sleep clinic appointment, and your own relentless overthinking about Hara’s pregnancy and Jungkook’s involvement, warranting an appointment with a psychologist, would be a good idea. But you decide against it. Not just because you don’t want to confront him yet, but because voicing a lie to explain why a whole bottle of wine didn’t lull you to sleep doesn’t cross your mind quickly enough.
“Perfectly. And you?”
“Yeah, though the beds are a bit too soft. You like them though, right?”
Nostalgia hits you like a snow storm—the fact that Jungkook still remembers such trivial details about you.
“Yeah, I even brought my snuggly,” you giggle, knowing he’ll definitely remember that as well.
What you didn’t consider is that the exact pillow you’ve been cradling every night since you got it was a gift from Jungkook himself. When his eyes snap to you, wide with recognition, searching your face to make sure he heard you right, you realise you’ve said too much.
He doesn’t ask any follow-up questions. In fact, he doesn’t say anything, and you’re too caught up in your head to even attempt small talk. How could you, with Jungkook? The two of you have never been like this, never awkward. You were always at ease, immediately friends, then more, and eventually…nothing at all.
It’s only when you reach the dreaded hill, with Jungkook stepping in front of you like the instructor he is—and how you should be seeing him right now—, that you try to bottle up everything, telling yourself you’ll bring it up later, maybe over lunch. It’s already late morning, so it won’t be too long until you get the answers you’re desperate for.
“So, today we’ll be snowboarding for real,” he starts, but it’s so much softer than when Yoongi was with you. There’s a gentleness in his tone now, something quieter, like he’s trying to ease you into it rather than push. “But before we lift up and go down the slopes, I want you to get a feel for gliding with a bit of speed.”
Yeah, no. He’s not easing, he’s definitely pushing you. You don’t like where this is going.
“First with a rope, then we’ll use the hill a few times, and hopefully before lunch we’ll make our first descent down the blue slope.”
“Blue?”
“It’s the easiest one. I’ll explain it in detail once we’re up there.” He points with his thumb over his shoulder.
Following the direction, you notice multiple skiers and snowboarders already dashing down the slopes. You’re pretty sure you hear someone scream right before they fall, snow exploding around them like flour hitting the ground. You gulp dryly, but you nod all the same.
When Jungkook pulls a cut-off lift cord from his jacket, you’re equal parts terrified and impressed by how much he carries around without you noticing.
“Clip yourself in, please,” he instructs as he unwraps the cord, walking towards you with both ends in hand.
Of course, you do as he says, but you can’t help glancing warily at the cord, still unsure of exactly what he’s got planned.
Shifting awkwardly on your snowboard, trying not to fall while Jungkook messes with the lift cord, you try to ignore the racing of your heart as Jungkook’s gloved hands tug gently around your body to secure it. But all your attempts to focus on anything other than how natural it feels for him to be helping you again, are futile at their best.
„You ready?“ He’s got this grin on his face, one you recognise too well—the kind that usually means he’s about to do something reckless or ridiculous. It’s the same grin he had that time he convinced you to build a fort out of every cushion in his apartment, just because and why not.
“Not even a little bit,” you admit, but still, you’ve never been able to say no to that grin. Snowboarding is definitely not something you ever thought you’d be doing, yet, here you are, letting your ex teach you. It’s awkward as it sounds, except…it’s not.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you. I’m gonna start pulling now. Just relax, yeah?” he grins, his voice carrying that casual, teasing tone that makes your heart ache just a little bit too much. Swallowing hard, you adjust your stance, trying to keep your balance as he gets into position.
“Relax? You’re literally going to run while pulling me. How am I supposed to relax?” you shoot back, giving him a look. Your knees feel wobbly just thinking about it, and you’re not even moving yet.
He chuckles, his eyes crinkling ever so lovingly at the edges. “Trust me, you’ll be fine. Just focus on staying straight and let me do the hard part.”
You shake your head, but deep down, you do trust him. You always have, even when you probably shouldn’t. Like that time he tried to teach you how to ride a bike after you told him you hadn’t been on one since you were a kid. He’d run alongside you, holding the seat, laughing the whole time while you screamed about how you were going to crash. And yeah, you did crash. But he was right there to catch you before you hit the ground.
“Okay, here we go!” Jungkook calls out suddenly, interrupting your thoughts. He grabs the lift cord a bit tighter, gives it a little tug, and then he’s off—actually sprinting through the snow, pulling you behind him like some kind of sled dog.
The board jerks beneath you as you’re dragged forward, and for a split second, you think you’re about to eat snow. But you don’t. Somehow, you manage to keep your balance, your legs flexing to stay upright as you glide over the snow. You can’t help it—you let out a yelp of surprise, half-laughing, half-shrieking, as Jungkook keeps running ahead of you, turning to look over his shoulder with a huge grin on his face, sparkling eyes, and a nose red from the cold.
“See? You’re doing it!” he shouts, his voice breathless but excited, clearly proud of you just for managing not to fall.
“Don’t distract me!” you yell back, laughing now despite yourself. The rush of the cold air against your face and the ridiculousness of the situation sends a burst of adrenaline through you, and for a moment, you actually feel like you’re snowboarding. Well, sort of. „I’m going to crash!“
„Nah, I’d never let you crash!“
You look up at that and he still looks annoyingly good, like he’s stepped out of a high-end winter sports ad. You wonder if he’s thinking about the past too—about the warmth you’d felt on those lazy Sunday mornings when you’d wake up next to him, the two of you tangled in blankets, sharing groggy laughter and sleepy conversation before starting the day.
Why did it have to end? That thought keeps creeping up, even though you tell yourself not to think about it. You weren’t right for each other, or maybe you were, but just not at the right time maybe. But there are still these little moments that get you. Moments like now, when he’s right in front of you, close enough but still far away.
Jungkook slows down a little, but his grip on the cord stays secure, guiding you as you slide behind him. It’s strangely easy, being pulled along like this. You’re not focused on your feet or the board or the fear of falling—you’re just…moving because of Jungkook. Making you remember all those rare times you’d dance around the kitchen with him guiding you in his sturdy arms, not caring if you looked ridiculous or if you were stepping on each other’s socked feet. Back when everything was uncomplicated, and just being with him made you happy.
“You’re not even trying to steer!” Jungkook calls out, teasing, his breath visible in the cold air. He looks over his shoulder again, his hair bouncing slightly as he jogs, and there’s something playful and secure in his eyes—something that makes you remember why you fell for him in the first place.
“I’m trying! Let me life!” you protest, though your voice is shaky from laughing too hard. It’s ridiculous, this whole thing, but you’re actually having fun.
“Alright, I’m gonna let go now,” Jungkook warns, slowing down even more. “Get ready to stop.”
You brace yourself, bending your knees just a bit more, trying to remember everything he told you over the last two days about controlling the board. But before you can do much more than panic slightly, he releases the cord, and you glide forward, the board still carrying you for a few more feet before coming to a slow, wobbly stop right in front of him, your snowboard between his legs.
You stand there for a moment, catching your breath, and when you turn your head up to look from Jungkook’s chest to his face, there’s nothing less than a satisfied smile on his lips.
“See? Told you it’d be fun,” he smiles, like this whole thing was a walk in the park for you. Honestly, it probably would be for him. He’s always been annoyingly good at making things look easy.
“Fun? I almost fell like ten times!” you exaggerate, but you’re still smiling. You can’t help it. It’s hard not to smile when you’re around him, even now, years later.
Slightly out of breath, he gives you that boyish grin that makes you swoon even more. “But you didn’t. And you were laughing, which means you were having fun.”
You want to argue with him, to say that just because you were laughing doesn’t mean you weren’t terrified, but the truth is, you did have fun. More fun than you’ve had in a while, actually.
“Okay, fine. Maybe it wasn’t that bad,” you admit, brushing some snow off your gloves. “But I still don’t know what I’m doing.”
“That’s the point. You don’t have to know what you’re doing. You just have to let yourself try.”
You stare at him for a second, trying to decide if he’s talking about snowboarding or —again—something else entirely. It’s funny how easily he slips back into your life like this when you’re alone and forget about the world, making you laugh, making you feel like things aren’t as complicated as they really are. It reminds you of all those little moments you had together—when you’d stay up late, talking about nothing in particular, just enjoying the sound of each other’s voice or binge-watching shows that neither of you were really that into but refused to stop watching because you both needed to see how ridiculous the plot would get. Or, even, those lazy afternoons spent cooking together, fumbling through recipes neither of you knew how to make, laughing at each other when you messed up.
Those days were safe, easy. And even though it’s over, you miss that ease sometimes—the way he’d make you laugh without trying, the way he’d look at you during the quiet moments when he didn’t think you were paying attention.
Jungkook steps back and bends down to pick up the cord again, glancing up at you with that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. “Wanna go again?”
You sigh dramatically, though you’re already nodding. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
He laughs, and the sound of it is oh so wonderfully warm. “Nope. You’re stuck with me.”
As he starts pulling the cord again, you feel that rush of excitement building in your chest, the same way it used to whenever he’d suggest something spontaneous or ridiculously dangerous. It’s easy to forget everything else when you’re with him—how things ended, how you’re supposed to be moving on. But for now, in this exact moment, with him pulling you along like old times, you let yourself enjoy it.
Because quite frankly, as soon as you have the talk with him, you’re sure there won’t be any of these shared moments anymore. Ignoring the ticking countdown inside your head is everything you’re willing to do for now, you’re not quite ready to let go of the ease that obviously can still exist between you, fragile as it may be.
Some time later, after you’ve been gliding—no, really snowboarding—down the hill a few times, you’re sitting on top of it with Jungkook beside you. Both of you are clipping yourselves in, facing the lift where you’re about to head up for your first proper descent.
“People are already off to lunch, so the lift’s going to be pretty empty. Try to stop right behind me, I’ve got the ticket for you.”
“Okay.” you hesitate, but maybe it’s the perfect time to clear some of your questions. “Uh, before we start, could you tell me what you’ve all been saying about me in the group chat?”
“What?”
“Yeah, like, what you’ve been talking about me. About us.”
Jungkook looks completely confused, muttering, “We don’t talk about you there,” but he pulls his phone from his pocket regardless, unlocking it and heading straight to the group chat. “What the fuck?!”
“What is it?”
You try to peer at his phone, but the sun’s too bright for you to make anything out.
“They’ve removed me from the chat.”
Frowning at his phone, Jungkook quickly types out a flurry of messages to all his friends, each one filled with the same curse words and passive-aggressive tone. But when you see him typing to Hara, it’s just a politely phrased question, before he puts his phone away and turns to you with apologetic eyes.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s going on with—”
“Jungkook!”
You turn towards the chirpy voice calling out, spotting two snowboarders decked out in pink, gliding effortlessly towards you. Their gear isn’t baggy, snugly fitting and showing off their slender physiques.
“Who’s that?” you mutter to yourself, still transfixed by how effortlessly they come to a stop in front of you. You think you hear Jungkook mumble something like no clue.
Both girls remove their scarves and protective goggles, revealing not only perfect features but also flawless makeup—more suited for a night out than a day on the slopes.
“Hey,” Jungkook greets them, confusion evident in his tone.
“It’s so dope to see you again! Right, Minji? Best instructor in the world.”
Both giggle, and you notice Jungkook shifting uncomfortably. Did he sleep with them? They look so young, he wouldn’t have…right?
“Oh, thanks. Minji and…uh…”
“Sora!” She winks at him, still ignoring your presence. “It’s been, what? Two years? We’ve grown up now, right?”
“The Cho cousins! Of course! Wow, you really have grown up!” Jungkook smiles now, no longer bothered by the obvious flirting, though your mood sours the longer the girls stare at him.
“You remember,” Minji breathes, looking at him like a lovesick puppy.
“You want to grab lunch with us? Catch up a bit?”
“We were just about to—” you start, but Sora interrupts you with a pout.
“Pretty please?”
“Are your parents with you?” Jungkook asks.
“No, just us.”
Jungkook turns to look at you, and you school your expression into neutrality.
“We could have lunch now and then—”
“Yeah, the lesson’s over for today,” you say flatly, unclipping your feet from your board and getting up immediately. “See you later.”
You’re not proud of how you’ve handled it, but you’re done. You’ve wasted the whole morning without getting any answers, and now there’s another issue you wouldn’t have wanted.
“Wait!” Jungkook calls after you, but you’re already at the base, not looking back as you head straight to the hostel, hoping Yoongi had the sense and decency to finally grab your stuff from Hope’s.
Hearing Jungkook trying to catch up with you gives you that extra boost, despite your muscles aching, pushing you to increase your pace. It’s pretty embarrassing how you’re practically fleeing from him, but you’re pissed, and you’re petty, and he knows it too. Jungkook definitely still knows how to handle you when you’re like this, but right now, you just can’t.
Luckily, he doesn’t speed up, and you make it to the hostel first, stumbling inside. Everyone, literally everyone, is scattered around the main area as if they’re plotting something you’re not in on. They all fall silent the moment you burst through the door, with a few empty takeout boxes on the table and Jimin holding a clipboard and pen.
“Uh, hello?” you ask carefully.
That seems to break their trance as everyone starts blinking and moving again. Yoongi gets up with a takeout box in hand and walks over to you.
“Want some takeout?” He’s being too nice, and the way his eyes shift over his shoulder to Namjoon and Hope does anything but ease your nerves.
“What’s going on here?”
No one answers. Jin even starts whistling while cleaning his nails, which earns him a swift kick to the shin from Hara, who’s sitting between him and Tae.
“Just getting things ready for tonight,” Namjoon finally says, though you can see in his eyes that he’s straight-up bullshitting you.
You don’t have time to push for answers as Jungkook bursts through the door too, looking just as confused. “What’s going on?”
“Preparations,” everyone except you says in unison, making them seem even more suspicious than they already are.
“Why are you back so soon?” Hara tries to distract, smiling as she glances between you and Jungkook.
That’s your cue to leave though. You’re not dealing with this today. “Thanks for the takeout, I’m off for a shower. Bye~.”
And with that, you grab the takeout box from Yoongi, swap it with your snowboard, and stomp off in your snow-covered boots towards your suite. Locking yourself inside, you decide to spend the day on some much-needed self-care before you have to face the party tonight.
Because finally having the time to think—or rather, not to think—and just get back to your inner zen, maybe even start acting a bit more rationally, is exactly what you need. You’re just relieved that everyone, even Yoongi, has left you alone throughout the whole afternoon, only briefly interrupting you so he could get ready for the evening as well.
You’re not sure why you opted for the clothes you’re currently wearing, feeling ridiculously overdressed for this town, but at the same time underdressed for the weather. Still, you won’t let every other woman around you push you into their shadows, knowing there’s a spotlight for you too, even though you barely take it.
If Jungkook’s the visual type, which you know for a fact he is, then you’ll damn well show him what he’s missing. Not just to give him a mental middle finger, but also for you to feel at least a bit more adequate.
Maybe there’ll be someone at the party who’ll appreciate your appearance, someone who isn’t familiar with your past or your sorry attempt at being something you’re simply not. Maybe tonight’s all about getting answers and a change, closing the book written by Jungkook.
Grabbing your small purse, you stuff your phone into it, pulling on your boots, which don’t quite match your outfit, but leaving with heels would be a death sentence with the snow-covered streets. It’ll have to do, especially when you’re hoping that Jin’s place is dimly lit, so no one notices your footwear anyway.
When you enter the main area, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jungkook are already waiting for you, the latter two stunned silent as they take you in. It makes you blush, though you hope your makeup stays true to its claims and doesn’t let the pink show through.
Jungkook’s decked out in all black again, his fitted jeans straining against those massive thighs you’ve always had a weakness for. You think you spot a silver chain peeking out from his collar—it looks familiar, but you’re not entirely sure. You reckon it might be a new one; time has definitely passed, and it would be odd if he were still wearing jewellery gifted by his petty ex who dumped him.
“Finally,” Yoongi breathes, standing up from the couch with a clap to his knees.
Jungkook throws him an evil eye, though you chalk it up to his general hostility towards him rather than any real annoyance at the semi-rude comment about how long you took to get ready.
“You look beautiful,” Namjoon smiles, that dimpled smile of his, walking beside you as you head out to the party.
“Thanks, Namjoon, I like your hair.” You compliment him back, noticing the effort he’s put in as well, his hair now gelled back, showing off his forehead.
You’re glad Jungkook doesn’t butt in again, though the silent simmering isn’t much better. It’s kind of childish how he’s acting—not that you’re any better—but still, it grates on your nerves. At this point, though, you’re not even sure talking to him would help, considering how loaded everything is between you two, you reckon there might not be a way back to normalcy. Not that you know what normal would look like with Jungkook.
When you finally reach Jin’s, you’re pleasantly surprised by how it’s transformed—not just because the whole town’s there, but because the decorations are on point. Multiple mistletoe hang from the ceiling, with glittery ornaments reflecting the fairy lights, making the whole place feel more like a Christmas nightclub than the posh restaurant it was just yesterday.
You spot Hope, Hara, and Tae right away, deep in conversation in front of a makeshift stage, where several microphones and instruments are set up. Jungkook and Namjoon are swarmed within seconds by women swooning over them like starved cougars which annoys you just a bit more than usual.
It’s too much for you again—you can’t stand to watch—so you grab Yoongi’s hand and drag him to the bar, needing to drown a shot glass, even if it ends up filled with your tears by the end of the night.
“Hey!” Jin greets you from behind the bar, shaking up a drink for an older lady perched on a barstool, who looks like a cross between a crazy rich Asian and a fashion icon. You’re sure to see Jimin’s hair flopping at the other end of the bar, probably helping out in serving drinks tonight.
“Yo, Jin, what’s up?” Yoongi daps him up, and you sit down, swirling slightly while deciding what you’ll drink tonight.
“What can I get you?”
“A beer for me and…”
“A shot of vodka and a glass of wine, please.”
“Going hard tonight?” Jin laughs, but he prepares your drinks without much judgement.
“It’s a party, isn’t it?”
“Of course. Enjoy yourselves,” he winks, setting down the drinks before heading off to serve another customer.
“You planning on getting smashed?” Yoongi asks, right before taking his first sip.
“Maybe. We’ll see.”
“Just talk to him.”
You give him a silent glare, throwing your head back as the vodka disappears before you know it. When you get home, you’ll definitely need to cut back on the alcohol—it’s gotten out of hand, and you know it.
“Maybe you don’t want answers.“
„Maybe.“
„You coming over?” Yoongi nods towards the group of friends, Jungkook standing with them next to Hara but with his eyes locked on you, watching intensely as you turn.
You can’t look away, not when he’s hypnotising you the way only he can, making you feel exposed to the core, even from across the room.
“No, I’ll come over in a bit.”
“Suit yourself.”
And with that, Yoongi’s gone, pushing through the crowd while you turn back to the bar, watching Jin and Jimin work, taking gulps of wine one after the other, just as soon as you set the glass down.
You can’t help but take occasional peeks over your shoulder at the others, always laughing and having a good time. But every time, Jungkook’s eyes are already locked on you, refusing to look away even when you catch him staring. His confidence is bold, and he’s never been shy about it—or anything, really—which only stirs the fire inside you, the one only he could ever ignite.
After your second glass of wine, your mind wanders to fantasies that can only come true in your dreams. What if he’s not with Hara? If he’s not the baby daddy? Would there still be a chance for you? Would you be enough?
What if you are? What if everything goes back to how it once was? Would you be happy? Of course you would, how could you not. Even the toughest days spent with Jungkook aren’t as hard as being without him. You’d take fighting with him over being apart from him any day.
But the fact that you’ve been sitting here for what feels like hours, and no one has even attempted to make a move on you, destroys your pride even more. Maybe you’re just not desirable enough, and Jungkook, being the peak of human perfection, would see it that way too.
When he joins you at the bar after some time, you don’t even need to look to know it’s Jungkook standing beside you, leaning on the counter—his unique fragrance mixed with his scent gives him away instantly.
“A whiskey, please,” he calls over the music to the barman, Jimin and Jin by now replaced by two unfamiliar faces.
“Didn’t know you drink during the week.”
Jungkook’s jaw ticks ever so slightly, his head hanging low as his fringe hides his eyes.
“Can’t I enjoy myself too?”
“Go ahead, enjoy yourself as much as you like.” You can’t help the bitter tone in your voice, hoping he didn’t catch it, but Jungkook noticed.
When he’s handed his drink, he turns to you, and you can’t help but take him in. It’s instinct at this point, letting your eyes shamelessly stray over his build and features, though he’s just the same.
“You look like you’re doing just fine without me.” Ouch.
“Maybe you do too.” You try to safe face.
There’s silence now as Jungkook takes a sip of his whiskey, his darkened eyes flickering over your face as if trying to make sense of you.
But eventually, he just shakes his head. “Having to learn how to live without you is a lesson I never wanted to learn.”
He’s gone as quickly as he appeared, and you’re left alone again. You can’t spend the whole evening like a fucking loner at the bar, so you order another glass, and once it’s handed to you, you get up and head towards the others.
Just like the rest of the night, they’re loudly chatting and laughing away, now joined by Jin, who’s massaging Hara’s shoulders, and Jimin, who’s clearly annoying the hell out of Yoongi.
“___!” Tae shouts over the heads of the others, bulldozing towards you as you stand beside Jungkook, throwing himself over your shoulders.
The hug mends your broken heart just a little, and you regret not coming over sooner, realising you were once again stuck in your head, missing out on the easy fun that was waiting for you.
“Tae, hi!” You feel a bit of wetness on your back, probably from the drink Tae’s holding, but you don’t let it bother you, knowing it’ll dry in no time with the heat surrounding you.
“You left so quickly this morning,” Hara pouts, and guilt washes over you instantly.
“Yeah, sorry, I’ve got a sensitive stomach and…well, you know…”
“Oh, I’m sorry!”
“No, it’s fine! Nothing you could’ve done,” you laugh, trying to brush off the awkwardness.
The chatter picks up again, and you’re relieved no one mentions you keeping your distance until now. Everyone seems pretty laid back, happy to let people take space if they need it. Well, everyone except Jungkook, who’s stepped a little away from you and closer to Hara.
It stings a bit—well, a lot—but you try to keep the tight-lipped smile intact, tuning into the conversations around you over the music.
“You ready?” Jin grins over Hara’s head at Jungkook, who shifts uncomfortably.
“Do I have to?”
“Course you do! It’s tradition at this point,” Hope laughs, and even though you have no idea what they’re talking about, his bright laughter makes you giggle too.
Jungkook still looks unsure, but when Hara nudges him, leaning away from Jin to whisper something in his ear while squeezing his bicep, he nods and hands his drink to Jimin, prompting cheers from everyone but you and Yoongi.
“What the fuck?” Yoongi mouths at you, and you just shrug, just as clueless.
“Here goes nothing,” Jungkook mutters, and as he and Jin make their way to the stage—Tae giving them both a hard slap on the ass—your own nerves start to flare up.
Hara stands right beside you, pulling you into a side hug. “I’m so proud of him.”
You don’t bother asking why; your question will be answered any minute now.
“Hello everyone! Thanks for coming tonight! And like every year, let’s kick off the real party with our babystarcandy!” Jin shouts into the mic, tossing paper hearts into the air as Jungkook grabs a guitar from the side, slinging the strap over his shoulder and stepping up to the mic Jin just left.
The room erupts into the loudest cheers you’ve ever heard, with Hara screeching the loudest. Jungkook glances at her bashfully with a small smirk.
“Hey, everyone.”
More deafening cheers follow, and you swear you see a black bra flying through the air towards the stage, though you’re not sure—your alcohol-hazed vision could be playing tricks on you at this point.
“What do you want to hear first?” Jungkook’s smooth voice reverberates through the room, and you realise he’s made for the stage. You’ve never seen him like this before.
The crowd shouts random song titles you’ve never heard before, but the loudest—and from Hara—is a request for a song called ‘Guillotine,’ one you’ve too never heard of. Jungkook locks eyes with her again and simply nods with cheeks dusted pink and a small smile.
“Alright, this one’s for someone special.”
As the first chords flow from his guitar, his tattooed fingers gliding effortlessly over the strings, eyes closed as if he’s pouring his soul into the song, the entire room falls silent.
“Sleep on me, feel the rhythm in my chest, just breathe.”
You gulp, not just because his voice is beautiful beyond words, but because when you glance at Hara, you see her with glassy eyes, softly mouthing the lyrics. You feel yourself starting to break. The words rain down on you, pulling you under, making it hard to breathe without gasping.
“I will stay, so the lantern in your heart won’t fade.”
This can’t be happening. It really can’t. Jungkook’s found the true love of his life, and it’s not you. You were never meant to be—just a prototype, an example for the perfect candidate, but only a candidate.
It’s her.
Tears well up in your eyes, though for entirely different reasons than Hara, who’s now curled into Jin’s side, still singing along, cheering for Jungkook, who keeps glancing in her direction with that same soft smirk.
“I know that you love me, love me, even if I lose my head.”
And as the whole room joins in, singing, clapping, and cheering, you silently crash. Splintering into a thousand pieces, never to be put back together. Your wine glass slips from your hand and shatters on the floor, but the sound is drowned out by Jungkook’s guitar. Still, Yoongi and Namjoon notice. They see you gasping for air, breaking, spiralling, and finally turning to flee from the hell that you’re forced to see.
You push through the crowd, head down, trying to block out the sound of Jungkook’s voice, but it’s everywhere, even as you burst outside and run towards the hostel. It’s still there, screaming in your head, with no way to drown it out.
01 • masterlist • 03
a/n 3: lmk what you think in any way you like! 👀 If you liked what you read, pls consider buying me a ☕️ Ko-fi.com/runariya 💕
Like what you read? Check out my other work here!
All Rights Reserved © @/runariya 2024
taglist: @kookiewithluv , @closer-to-jungkook , @dreamcatcherluvr , @blueofocean, @leah-rose03 , @httpjeonlicious , @futuristicenemychaos , @cryingoverpixelsetc , @variety-is-the-joy-of-life , @kawaiiisstuff , @delusionalsnack , @jaykay-world , @kookie-vuitton , @https-mei, @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs , @avawants2havefun , @kawaiiisstuff, @ancagab16 , @lovingkoalaface , @lachimolalajeon , @jkslvsnella , @asimuss7 , @elinaki92 , @minghaosimp, @whoa-jo , @jaytheatiny , @winterbeartaehyungbestboy
#fic: CCL#bts fanfic#bts imagines#bts army#bts jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x you#jungkook imagine#jjk x reader#romcom#Jungkook smut#bts smut#Jungkook fluff#bts fluff#jungkook bts#jungkook romance#Jungkook romcom#jungkook#crack fic#kim namjoon#namjoon#bts namjoon#bts kim seokjin#kim seokjin#bts min yoongi#min yoongi#park jimin#bts park jimin
621 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Jungkook returns from a work trip, which kept you away from each other for three long weeks. He seeks comfort in the fact that he can finally fall asleep next to you again. Come morning however, those giddy feelings turned into fiery desire. It doesn't matter that you are still sleeping. Jungkook missed you and he needs you."
♢ Requested by @seagulljk ♢
Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader
Genre: married life!AU, Slice of Life Fluff, Smut
Warnings: cute love notes, naked cuddling, sub!Jungkook, Dom!Reader, mommy kink, she calls him Bunny, consensual somnophilia, humping of her butt, thigh fucking, needy!Kook, begging, needy kisses, praise kink, good boy kink, spooning position, he cums too soon, creampie, sloppy oral (f.receiving), cum eating, pussy fingering, hair pulling (m.receiving), a bit of nipple play, body worshipping, possessive talk (he is all like "I'm yours"), subby boy tears, cuddly aftercare
Wordcount: 5.7k
a/n: I haven't heard from you in ages *stares longingly into distance* you requested this for Kinktober 22 and I finally finished it. it also fits perfectly into my biggest wish which is "kook comes homes". enjoy besties, this is so lovely ❤
Not being home has become way too regular for him. Jungkook hates it. He hates it so much. The penthouse is quiet once again when he arrives. There was no delay in flights or traffic jams, it is simply that his plane landed late. And he hates it. He hates how often he has to leave these days.
You knew of his late arrival and therefore Jungkook is greeted with a sticky note on the coat hanger. He picks it up, reading it as he slips out of his coat.
“Welcome home Bunny! Check fridge :D”
Jungkook smiles and slips the note into the front pocket of his suit. He discards the suitcase by the stairs like always on his way to the fridge. He opens it. His eyes instantly drift to the container of fried rice and the array of side dishes. He takes them out, eyes drifting to the second sticky note on one of the containers. He picks it up and reads it.
“Yaay you found me :D…”
Jungkook smiles, scrunching his nose as he continues reading.
“...you can warm up the rice if you want to and add some cheese on top. I put all my love into it ♡…”
Jungkook feels his heart flutter. He hugs the sticky note to his chest and closes his eyes. One little squeeze and then he continues.
“...sorry I couldn’t be there. Today drained me :(...”
“Oh no, I’m sorry”, Jungkook whispers and pouts.
“...I hope you are home safe. I adore you, my love ♡”
He smiles again, “I adore you too, my love.”
He gives the sticky note a kiss and places it on the counter for later safe storing. He keeps a box with all your memories and little letters in his home office. Actually, it is three boxes and he is in the midst of filling up the fourth one. Jungkook likes to keep everything. Truly everything concerning your relationship. Your sweet notes will find their warm home with all the other precious memorabilia tomorrow morning once he slept his jetlag off.
He puts the container of rice into the microwave and uses the time to carry his luggage upstairs. He’ll do the laundry tomorrow. He slips out of his suit and changes into a simple t-shirt and sweats combo, then hurries downstairs again. The food is warmed up and ready, filling his nose with a mouth-watering scent. He takes the container and the side dishes and eats them standing by the kitchen island and with his eyes zoned out on the city lights.
It’s a good time. Jungkook missed your food so much. It is once again important to mention that he doesn’t expect you to cook and that you do so because you want to. If you suddenly decide to stop cooking, Jungkook would be sad because he loves your food the most, but he wouldn’t be angry. You do this voluntarily and Jungkook loves every single dish you make. Tonight’s dish tastes especially good. You grilled chicken breast and some vegetables and you even added canned tuna to the rice, topping everything off with a savoury-spicy sauce. Jungkook loves it so much.
He had to be without you for twenty days. It was hell again. Of course it was because he wasn’t with you. He missed everything about you and that also included your food. It tastes so good. So homemade, so full of love and care. Jungkook enjoys every bite as if it was his first, humming and moaning to himself as he enjoys the good food.
Once done and happily sated, Jungkook washes the dishes and puts them back into their shelves. He wipes the part of the kitchen island counter he ate on and then makes his way to the upstairs bathroom to wash up. Afterwards and without any clothes on, he finally walks to the bedroom.
He is tired and more than anything, he misses you.
He sadly walks by the little sticky note you left on the bedroom door because he didn’t have the lights on. He will find it tomorrow and read it with sparkly eyes. It says something along the line that behind this door his snuggles are waiting. You are such a cheesy romantic these days. Jungkook loves it so much.
The blinds are closed completely. Like always, Jungkook uses the light of his phone screen to tiptoe to the bathroom so he could brush his teeth. Like always, he only uses his phone flashlight for vision and like always, he uses his phone screen again as he tiptoes to the bed. He turns on his purposefully-weak night light and uses it to apply lip balm and drink some water. Then he slips under the cover, keeping the nightlight on for a little longer. You are turned to him, sleeping halfway on your stomach and with your cheek squished.
Jungkook feels his heart swell and his stomach tingle. He reaches out and moves some of your hair out of your face. He brushes the back of his fingers down your temple and cheek, holding your hand afterwards. His thumb is drawing hearts on your skin.
“I missed you”, he whispers and moves closer to kiss your cheek, your temple and lastly your eyelid as gently as possible.
He gives the shell of your ear a soft kiss as well and caresses the back of your head before putting some distance between you and him.
He turns off the nightlight and holds your hand again. He didn’t even have to look for it. He knew exactly where he would find it.
He closes his eyes. He is so exhausted from travelling and finally being with you again is doing the rest to him. He is home again. And home means sleep. Jungkook listens to your breathing and finds healing in the sound of it.
Seconds later, he has joined you in dreamland, smiling faintly because nothing beats sleeping next to you.
Jungkook opens his eyes to darkness. He was wrong. There is one thing which can beat sleeping next to you. Waking up with you in his arms.
You are his little spoon, giving him warmth. He must have reached for you in his sleep or maybe you cuddled into him in your sleep. Whatever the case, Jungkook slept for nine hours and is waking up with you in his arms. Your scent is the only thing he takes in, he can feel your back sink and rise as you breathe, there is a little wet spot on his arm where you are drooling on him.
Jungkook smiles and pulls you closer. You would hate it, but you are so cute right now. You would probably wrestle him for it – gently of course and with love – if you read his thoughts right now, but Jungkook thinks you are cute as you drool on his arm.
His blanket slipped halfway off his body so that only the back side of his body was covered, while his front was pressed against your body. Your blanket served as a barrier and Jungkook doesn’t like that. He shimmies back just enough so that he can open the blanket and slip under. So now he has two blankets covering him and your body against his’.
He feels his breath hitch. You aren’t wearing clothes either. Your body is so warmed up from sleep, your skin is so soft. Jungkook feels his emotions overwhelm him. He was ready for everything but not to cuddle you naked on the first morning together again. He pulls you into his chest and exhales shakily. Your legs tangle as best as possible. Your butt applies pressure on his crotch. Jungkook feels whole again. This kind of emotion only you can give him. This kind of connection and comfort.
This work trip didn’t leave him as anxious as previous ones did. You visited him for three days in the middle of it, which made it easier to bear, but it was still not easy. Jungkook still had to go seventeen days without you and the last week of the trip was hell. The hours were inhumanely long, the nights were lonely and the yearning unbearable. So Jungkook finds healing in holding you as your bodies share the most intimate of states.
He stays like this for quite a while. Holding you. Feeling you. Breathing you. And experiencing you. This is what heaven is. This is it. This is the only thing which will make everything better again. Jungkook will fight through all the hellish work trips in the world if at the end of them, your hug awaits.
Jungkook sighs and relaxes his muscles. He falls asleep again like this. The comfort of cuddling you naked dragged him right down into sweet dreams. He sleeps for another hour, then he wakes again. You are still sleeping, holding his hand by now. Your position hasn’t changed, but the state of one certain body part has.
He got a boner.
Jungkook didn’t plan on getting hard. His plan was to cuddle and snuggle you until late into the morning and then when you wake up, kiss you for hours with the sweet thought that maybe passionate sex will follow.
He wasn’t planning on getting hard already, but it seems that his body has different plans for him. It’s not even one of his normal boners. The kind he always gets in the morning because he is a healthy man with healthy blood circulation.
This hard on aches and he knows for a fact that it won’t go away after a few minutes. It is here to stay and it is here to torture him.
It is currently squished between his body and your butt. The pressure, which once gave him comfort, is torturing him. You are so soft and warm that it gets difficult not to move.
He tries to check if maybe you are awake by giving your hand a little shake. You pull his hand closer, but stay unmoving otherwise. You are still asleep.
Jungkook takes a deep breath, feeling dizzy. He has two options. Ignore the boner and suffer or attempt to find relief by rubbing himself against you.
He knows that you wouldn’t mind if he did. You and he know that somno is allowed and appreciated, so Jungkook is aware that he has consent to get off with your sleeping body. He still hesitates. He always does because he feels like such a dirty man whenever he does it. He is embarrassed about getting so needy that he can’t even control himself anymore. And he also feels as if he is soiling your body. You are so precious to him, so to secretly find relief with you always leaves him feeling a little guilty.
You would call him a stupid noodle if you knew his thoughts.
Jungkook feels needy tingles go through his legs. The reminder of his beloved nickname made him even hornier. He loves being your stupid noodle and he always gets giddy when you call him this way.
He wiggles his hips. Slowly. Just a little. His pretty cockhead grinds against your butt up and down.
He squeezes your hand, muffling his shaky sigh in the back of your head. This felt so good. He wants to experience it again.
He wiggles his hips. His cock moves. Up and down. The sensation is electric. Your skin is so soft. Your warmth seeps so deep into his cock. He wants more.
He moves his hips and does it a second time right afterwards. His legs feel so, so warm as the pleasure emits from his cock.
“Oh god”, he sighs, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He is propped up on his elbow this way, using the new support to roll his hips into you. Your scent fills his nose as he inhales deeply in reaction to the grinds. Mellifluous and warm from sleep. You only smell like this when you spent hours cozy and comfy under the covers. You get this addicting sweetness to you. He always feels droopy from it.
Jungkook wets your skin because it makes him so, so needy to have it fill his senses. It makes grinding so much easier and for his needy hips to chase the short relief with eagerness.
He wants to fucking scream, this feels so good. Grinding hasn’t felt that good in ages. Jungkook knows it’s because he hadn’t been home for such a long time. The thought that he wasn’t, makes him want you even more.
Jungkook reaches between your bodies and grabs his own cock. He bends it so he can push it between your thighs. The friction is intense, bordering painful. It would be so much easier if he used lube. He can’t reach it right now. You are in the middle of the bed and if he moved too much, he’d wake you.
Jungkook bites down on his lower lip and pushes harder. It burns. He swallows the pain and pushes one last time. Your thighs welcome his cock, letting him sink between them. They hug and squeeze, feeling oh so hot around him.
“Mommy”, Jungkook moans and pulls his hips back. His cock slides from between your thighs. He pushes it back inside, leaving trails of wetness. It begins covering more and more of your skin, making the fucking easier.
Jungkook pulls back just to push inside. He does it over and over again, biting his lower lip so hard that it starts to hurt. If he wouldn't muffle himself, he’d wake you up with incessant moaning. Your thighs are so soft. The position they are in as you slumber, makes them press together naturally and therefore get so, so tight to fuck.
No wonder it hurt at first until he got embarrassingly needy. He gets wet so easily. The friction isn’t uncomfortable anymore. It is still there, but it feels amazing. It makes sure to drag and move his sensitive skin right over the spots which are filled with the most nerve endings and Jungkook can’t stop.
He fucked himself needy. There is no escape anymore. He has to continue. His boner wouldn’t ever go down otherwise.
“Holy fuck, Mommy”, he whimpers and drags his parted lips over your neck in what try to be kisses. He is so, so drooly in his worshiping attempt, but he can’t help himself. Your thighs make him feel so, so, so woozy.
He kisses, licks and sucks your neck with closed eyes and his leaky cock twitching between your thighs. Small moans escape him. He has no control over them. He is too far gone. Too lost in how good you feel.
Oh how lost he is. So, so lost that he doesn’t even realise he began slipping up until he suddenly feels something else grind against his cock as well. Your pussy. Soft. Your groomed pubes bring such a new sensation to the fuck.
“Mommy please”, it makes Jungkook beg instantly. He closes his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as his hips pick up a needy pace.
This is making him desperate. He is so close to the warmest and softest spot of your body. He is right there. At his home. And he can’t slip inside because the current position would end up hurting for you. You are too tight to slip in. Jungkook is left fucking his needy cock between your thighs and make do with what little contact he has to your pussy.
“Mommy please wake up”, he begs and sucks on your earlobe. He mewls and keens, finding immense relief in the sensation. His cock twitches, his body shivers, “oh god”, he croaks. His lips are pressed to your ear as he begs, “please Mommy, please.”
You shift in his arms, rolling closer into his chest. Your head moves. Jungkook’s heart skips beats. His hips stutter in excitement.
“Bunny?”
“Hey Mommy, hey”, he gets out and mewls, “oh god, you’re awake.”
“What’s happening?” your voice is heavy in sleep. You sound so out of it still.
“I’m sorry. Mommy, I’m sorry. I got hard”, he confesses and whimpers as he fucks his cock between your thighs in example.
You are barely awake. You still feel disoriented from sleep, so the sensation of Jungkook fucking his cock between your thighs is hidden behind a droopy veil.
“Please can I slip it in?” Jungkook begs and pulls you closer with his hand dimpling your side.
“Mhm Bunny, you’re doing things”, you lull and laugh sleepily, “you stupid noodle.”
Jungkook trembles. Tears shoot to his eyes. He whimpers in overwhelming emotion.
“Please Mommy, please I’m begging you. Oh god, I wanna be inside so bad. Oh god”, he babbles in high pitched pleas, shaking behind you as his twitchy cock leaks all over your skin.
His begs are muffled as well. You are so nicely gone in sleep still. You are very awake between your legs however. Jungkook’s needy humping brought all the attention right between them and woke you up. So while the rest of your body was still useless in sleepiness, you feel achingly awake on the spots where his cock grinds against you.
“Please, I’ll be careful. Please, I’m begging you”, Jungkook pleads, struggling with his thrusts as his legs tremble, “oh god, I don’t know what to do. It hurts so much”, he gets out and sobs into your neck, “Mommy please make it stop, please.”
“Fuck, you’re so needy”, you chuckle lazily, giving his hand a little squeeze. You shift your hips and lift your leg.
“No, please more”, Jungkook begs and tries to push your leg down again.
“Bunny, I’m trying to give you access. What are you doing?” you laugh, shaking him off.
“Oh. Oh god, I’m so stupid”, he babbles.
“No, you’re not. Slip in, Bunny.”
“Mommy”, he whimpers and follows your order instantly. He pushes inside. The breach steals your breath away. Insane warmth fills your pussy instantly. Holy fuck, you missed him so much.
You reach behind yourself, burying your hand in his hair. You close your eyes because being filled with him feels too overwhelming not to.
“Mommy”, he whimpers, letting his head drop against the side of your face, “I love you”, he squeaks and bottoms out. He shakes and trembles, soiling your cheek with a sloppy attempt at a kiss as his arms pull you tighter against him.
“I love you too, Bunny.”
“Oh god, ahmhm.”
He chases you instantly. The sensation is too addicting not to. He whimpers and mewls as he does, leaving kiss marks all over your face. You have your head turned to him so you are getting kissed everywhere. Your cheek, your nose, your eyelid and forehead. Down your temple until he finally lingers on your lips for longer.
You receive them with closed eyes and a droopy smile. He feels so good. He feels so good filling you up, he feels so good holding you and he feels so good kissing your face. This is the best way to wake up. Nothing will ever top this.
You drop your leg again because you got tired. The sensation intensifies. You moan feeling your senses blur. He is inside you. It gets so intensely obvious now that you are so tight.
“Mommy”, he whimpers into the kiss, feeling his legs shake, “tight, ah.”
“I know. Feels so good”, you whisper with a dizzy head. You can feel him shift and move inside you. His cock is so soft and covered in your wet pleasure. It grinds against your butt and parts of your thighs each time he moves, leaving trails of wetness behind. You know that he us getting fucked twice. By your pussy and your thighs.
“It’s so intense”, he gets out and moans desperately.
“I know, you’re getting fucked so good. Mhm?”
“So good”, he whimpers, “oh god, Mommy.”
“My Bunny”, you moan and pull him back into a kiss as you finally show him the rhythm you want. He is a little sloppy at first until you calm him down with rubs to his neck and your tongue guiding his’.
And while his lips calm down against yours, his hips become needier. He pushes them against you as tightly as possible, keeping his cock so, so deep inside one might wonder if he tries to bury his balls in you as well. He probably would if he could.
Oh, he wants to fucking melt with you. He is so deep inside and yet he still aches. Not even your pussy is giving him the relief he needs. He keeps pressing against you, chasing the tight hug of your soft warmth with small circles of his hips.
You moan into the kiss, twisting his hair gently. Jungkook whimpers because he knows what this means. He is hitting the right spot. Or at least he is getting there.
He feels that you are different than on days where you dedicate a lot of time to foreplay. He knows that you haven’t been paid attention to for enough time that your pussy could properly shift and change to take cock. But he is getting there. Your moans and needy twisting of his hair is letting him know.
He slides his right hand down your stomach, lingering on the lowest part for a moment. He presses down until he feels how his cock shifts inside.
The kiss breaks, “Bunny”, you breathe and arch your back so you could press yourself closer. He is squeezing the sensitive parts right against his cock. The small circles of his hips give them a constant massage. It feels so good.
“Is it good? Am I careful enough?” he asks in a trembling voice.
“Yeah, ah”, you let out a little moan and pull him down against your lips.
Jungkook feels his cock throb. Not only on his cock but also against his hand. He doesn’t know how to handle the increasing pleasure running through his veins and so he slides his hand from your stomach to rub your clit instead. He picks up some of the juices coating his cock and uses them to massage circles into your sensitive spot.
“Bunny", you break the kiss again to gasp and moan. You throb under his fingers, convulse around his cock. The spots he hits inside gain in sensitivity. You are burning up.
“Am I doing good, Mommy?” he begs for your praise. Please. It is everything he needs.
“So good”, you get out and push back against him, “good Bunny, holy fuck ah…”
“Mommy", he sobs softly and feels his hips falter, “oh god, I’m close.”
“Suddenly?”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
He stops his thrusts in an attempt to calm down the approaching high, but he is too far gone. His thoughts are pushing him over the edge. You praised him. This is everything he needed.
“Ah! Oh god, sorry”, he moans and trembles, “no, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mommy.”
You chuckle fondly, running your fingers through his hair. He is so adorable. Your sweet Bunny so, so excited from being praised that it’s throwing him over the edge.
“I’m so sorry oh god it feels so goood.”
“There we go, let it all out Bunny. That’s it”, you talk him through it, playing with his hair as you do. You can’t even be mad at him for stopping. Not when he is so adorable.
Jungkook finishes after five twitchy strokes, dropping on top of you as his face hides away in your neck. His cock is buried inside, pulsating weakly as he recovers.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, this was so bad of me. I’m sorry”, he gets out between quick pants.
“You’re right. You’re such a bad Bunny”, you lull, grinning to yourself.
“I’m sorry, Mommy”, he whimpers, shaking in a little sob, “oh god, I’m a bad Bunny. So, so bad. Mommy, you can punish me.”
“No Bunny. No punishments. I want you to say sorry.”
“Oh god”, he croaks.
You smile.
He understood. Good.
“Can you do that for me, Bunny? Can you say sorry?”
“Yes, Mommy. I can. Oh, I can”, he says and slips out of you.
He rolls you onto your back and disappears under the blanket. Seconds later you feel his hot mouth on your pussy and his long fingers holding your waist.
“Mhhm fuck”, you purr, arching your back languidly as his hot tongue laps at your pussy. The sensation is different from his fingers. Wetter, hotter and softer. You fucking love every second of it.
He mewls under the blanket, feeling so dizzy. His cum keeps seeping out of you. No matter how hard he tries to clean you, he just can’t finish it. You keep leaking more and more.
“Mommy, I came so much”, he lets you know and swirls his tongue down your folds, lapping at your entrance. He needs to clean you. He needs to say sorry. He needs to be a good boy. He licks your creamed entrance, trying so hard to get it clean.
“You did”, you sigh your words, feeling lightheaded, “keep going until I’m clean.”
Jungkook hums in obedience and slurps. He licks, laps, slurps and sucks, needing you to be clean so fucking bad. He needs to show you that he is still good. That he is your best Bunny and not a naughty Bunny. This is all he needs and all he craves. He wants you to know that what he did was a mistake. And that he regrets it deeply.
“Fuck, you feel so good”, you let out and writhe happily. His tongue is filling you as far as he can reach, while his nose is buried between your folds. He has the perfect nose. It fits so perfectly in your pussy to grind on your clit whenever he tongue fucks you.
“Good Bunny, you’re so…good…”
Jungkook mewls at the praise, dimpling your waist as his needy fingers close tighter around you. Your lovely taste begins seeping more and more through the tangy taste of his own cum. He is doing such a good job at cleaning you, speeding up his tongue because he is so excited for your taste.
It makes the wettest sound, filling the air with it. It motivates him to perform even better. To press himself closer and fill your pussy. His nose is covered in your juices, stimulating your clit. He feels her throb on the tip of his nose as your scent surrounds him. You smell so warm after penetration. He can’t get enough, showing his desperation by curling his tongue inside you.
Your legs tremble and slip over his arms. Propped up on the mattress and continuing to shake, they lift the blanket just enough that fresh air gets to him. It was so perfectly stuffy and warm before, but Jungkook doesn’t want to complain because he is trapped under your legs and that feels so good.
“You’re so fucking good”, you get out breathily and run your fingers through his hair. You do it with both hands, giving him loving caresses without ever pulling at his hair. The sensation brings trembles to Jungkook’s lips. The tingles don’t stop running down his spine.
He breaks away because he genuinely can’t breathe. His nose was blocked by your pussy and his mouth gagged by it. He didn’t want to break away but he had to. He pants, recovering by sloppily kissing the inside of your thighs. He holds them in his hands for it, leaving spots of sensitivity because he sucks way too hard. You let him because it feels so good.
“I belong to you”, he gets out, “oh god, I’m yours. Yours. I’m yours.”
“Yeah, mine”, you sigh, “my Bunny.”
“Yours. You own me”, he croaks and connects his mouth with your pussy. He moans, sucking your clit between his lips to make out with it needily.
His drool runs down your folds and leaves you so messy for later. He can’t help it, you taste mouth-wateringly good. All cleaned of his cum and so intensely you. Jungkook swears he gets dizzy because of it. He missed your taste so much. So, so much.
“Fuck Bunny”, your voice trembles, just as your legs do, “my good Bunny, fuck you’re so good. Holy fuck”, you whispered at first but end up babbling the words as his quick tongue fucks your clit sensitive.
Jungkook swears he will actually scream because of your praise. He loves it on normal days, but something about it today affects him like nothing else. He feels delirious from it, high and totally out of it. Perhaps it is because he had to be with it for seventeen days. Perhaps he is so starved for it, because his situation starved him.
He slides his right hand from your waist and shifts a little so he could run his fingers down your folds. Your juices and his drool cover them instantly. He slides his left arm over your tummy, squeezes your side and pushes his fingers inside. Three at a time because you feel so ready for it.
“Holy fuck. Ah!”
You arch your back and pull his hair.
“Jungkook.”
His name fell from your lips. Jungkook presses himself closer and curls his fingers needily. He is doing the best job. You only moan his name when he’s got you high on pleasure.
Your right leg drops in the sheets because you didn’t have support anymore. You prop it again clumsily and roll your hips into him.
“Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Oh god”, you chant, gasping for air repeatedly.
Jungkook mewls and moans against your pussy. His mouth is pressed to your clit, his tongue is lapping at her in upwards motions. He moans each time he drags it down again and pulls another shake from your legs.
Your pussy is convulsing around his fingers, leaking constantly. Your favourite spot is so swollen under his fingertips. He would have to be a total idiot not to know where to touch because it is so fucking obvious to him. And oh how he touches you, how he makes sure that you get fucked so good now that his cock failed to do so.
“Fuck Bunny”, your voice is slightly pitched, your fingers twist bundles of his hair, “I’m…close…mh ah.”
Jungkook shakes in excitement. His instinct is to speed up, to do something different so you know how talented he is. But he knows better. You don’t want him to change anything, you want him to continue doing what he is doing right now. So he controls himself. He brings in your waist a little from his desperate grip and he moans against your pussy as his drooly mouth makes love to her. He curls his fingers where you need it most and he keeps pressing down on it as he rubs circles on it.
You arch your back, twisting his hair because it is all that helps. You missed him so much. You missed his touch, his moans, his mouth on you. You are just as sensitive as him, closing your thighs around his head as the fire in your body gets too much.
“You’re making me cum”, you moan and drop in the sheets with a loud groan of his name. He drags his tongue up and breaks you. Your entire body is overtaken by the fire instantly, it feels most intense in your pussy. “ah Bunny, ah, aha, aah, oh god Bunny…”
Jungkook licks you through it, spilling tears of happiness because he is making you feel good and because he really missed feeling your orgasm on his tongue. You always throb and pulsate so much and it’s the best feeling ever. You’re squeezing his fingers so much, tightening in the most perfect ways. Jungkook fingers and licks and sucks you through it, moaning as if he was the one orgasming.
“Woah damn, wait”, you get out, tugging him away after the good turns bad because of overstimulation, “too much. Sensitive. Woah”, you add and twitch repeatedly.
“Mommy”, Jungkook gets out and kisses paths of admiration up your stomach. He pulls his fingers free, using them to hold you instead. To feel you up and remind his brain how it is to cradle you.
“Thank you so much”, he breathes, covering every inch of your stomach with kisses.
You enjoy it with closed eyes and your lungs working so hard to get air inside. Oh you feel so dizzy. This is going to take a while.
Jungkook reappears from under the blanket, worshiping your chest now that every inch of your stomach has been adored. He cradles your breasts in his hands, kissing every inch of them with love and shaky breaths.
“You’re such a good Bunny”, you whisper, feeling his lips tremble against your nipple. He takes it inside and sucks on it, mewling your name because you make him feel so good. He breaks away with yet another mewl of your name, kissing paths up to your neck.
His crotch meets your own, sharing the warm, sticky connection of good orgasms. He is soft, which lets you know that it will take a while for him as well. His tummy and chest are on top of yours, his elbows dimple the pillow beside your head. He hides away in the crook of your neck and begins kissing your sensitive skin.
“I missed you so much”, he whispers and hugs you.
Your head is cradled between his own head and the tensing muscles of his upper arm. His warm scent is so strong this way, his skin feels like heaven. You roll your head to the side so you could rub your nose against his head, and close your arms around him.
“I missed you too”, you say and kiss his cheek, “my best Bunny, this was the loveliest way to wake up.”
“Yeah”, he sighs, “it was so good. Mommy, can you praise me again?”
You smile, hugging him closer, “my best Bunny, you’re such a good boy.”
“Did I do a good job?”
“Yes Bunnybaby, you did the best job.”
Jungkook giggles, melting into you as he puts his weight on you. He wiggles happily, making you smile.
“You’re cute.”
“I love praise so much.”
“I know Bunny and you deserve it”, you say, listening to his happy giggles.
“I’m so happy to be home again”, he says and snuggles closer, “my Mommy. I missed you so much.”
“Mhm yeah”, you agree and ruffle his hair, “you’re not leaving again. You’ll stay in my arms today.”
He giggles, “this is the best day ever.”
#jungkook smut#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook scenario#jungkook oneshot#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#sub!jungkook#bts smut#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts scenario#bts oneshot#bts x reader#bts x you#sub!bts#bangtan smut#bangtan fanfic#bangtan fanfiction#bangtan scenario#bangtan oneshot#bangtan x reader#bangtan x you#sub!bangtan#ceo!jungkook#ceo!bts#fanfic: aaol#requested
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
[GI] Kinktober Day 3: "Sharing"
Summary: As a secretary to the revered Il Capitano, you expected your job to consist of intense movement while keeping things on schedule simultaneously without a single missed beat. However, when Tartaglia arrives on the scene, you hadn't expected being shared between the two Harbingers to be on the job description as well!
Warning(s): Porn with plot, Threesome, A touch of assplay, Anal, Rough sex, General filthiness (but that's kinktober for ya), Slight favoritism for Tartaglia (he's my fav, I cant help it), Hint of Monster! Capitano, Some spit play (a touch of it, I cant stress that enough).
Side Note(s): If you can't tell via this fic. I like Capitano and Tartaglia a normal amount <33
You knew that the life of being a secretary to Capitano wouldn't be easy.
The constant moving from area to area. If the frigid snowstorms, scorching heat and violent storms didn't kill you then your feet simply falling off from all the movement would! When you announced to your family that you would be serving the honorable and righteous Il Capitano, your family warned you that the first Harbinger had achieved that title for a reason, he was rumored to be strict and brutal with how he ordered people underneath him! In his eyes, everyone was an expendable soldier to further serve his purpose of pleasing the Tsaritsa.
But you understood the risks when you sent in your hiring application. You accepted the fact that, as his aid, he'd expect nothing but the best from you as you aimed to make sure that his schedule was free and that he was kept up-to-date with any meetings he may have had or wanted to have in the future!
Yet...it's been four months now.
And still, he failed to adhere to the rumors that circulated about him.
Strict and brutal? Yes, but he was fair. He expected his soldiers to keep up on their long marches but he didn't make them walk until they started to bleed from their pores! He gave his soldiers a lot of time to rest, to make up for the constant walking and he definitely didn't starve them for months on end like you had heard other rumors say! Il Capitano was also relatively kind and heeded his soldiers' words attentively, taking their worries and concerns into consideration.
Earlier in your service, you remembered how one soldier came to him stating they were too weak to continue the march. You had expected the Harbinger to dismiss them and tell them to either "keep up or die to the frost" but...Capitano's actual response shocked you.
"If you are too weak...then we shall continue to rest here for a little while longer, make sure to eat and stay hydrated. Avoid training."
Your eyes nearly formed into the size of a moon at his gentle words to the soldier.
And as you and Capitano became more familiar with one another, your shock at how he treated his soldiers died down and instead shifted towards realizing that...you were steadily growing a crush on the Harbinger. Especially as you and he would continue to be around one another, eventually coming to a place where you two would talk and you could even joke with him (even though his responses to your jokes would be dry).
"Today was colder than usual..." You commented once you had finally retreated inside of the tent Capitano and you shared. You slept on one side of the tent while he slept on the other.
Capitano with a gruff noise that you had learned over the months was a sign of him agreeing. "When we come across another town, can I stop briefly to get some more coats? I think my current one is wearing away."
"Do not bother, I will have a couple sent here. We will be in this spot longer than usual." Your brow rose at his words before you took out your notepad to check if he had any meetings.
"Is there a meeting that I missed? Apologies that I didn't write it down and remind you, sir—"
"No, Tartaglia will be joining us in a day with his own soldiers."
Your kept your lips sealed at the reveal that the Eleventh Harbinger would be joining the war party for...goodness knows how long. Although you heard that he was a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield, you had also heard here and there that he was a...loose canon to say the least. But, you'd try to approach the situation with an open mind. You had gone into this situation believing that Il Capitano was a monster but was surprised to see that he was a reserved sweetheart, perhaps Tartaglia would be different!
. . .
And come to find out, he was.
But...for reasons different than what you were originally expecting. Tartaglia, when a bunch of soldiers had suddenly announced that the Eleventh and his party were approaching. As you stepped out of your and Capitano's tent, you wouldn't deny that a spark of fear shot into you as you witnessed the scene of a bunch of soldiers being led through the violent snowstorm by their bloodied leader. A hydro spear being lazily carried by him, all the while his eyes were distant, as if he had seen countless wars and lived to tell about them.
You opened your mouth to voice your concern to Il Capitano, although...with how quickly he ordered the doctors and nurses of the camp to tend to him and his soldiers. You figured he was used to the Harbinger popping up bloody and beaten. "Follow him," He said to you, leaning down a little to better whisper into your ear. "Introduce yourself and get details of the battle he came from the northeast."
Without a second of hesitation, you quickly followed the trail of bloody footprints until you reached the larger part of the camp which was dedicated mostly to keeping prisoners and where the medical stations were set up, you spent the next few minutes peeking into tent after tent before you finally found the one that housed Tartaglia. As you stepped into the tent, however...a blush immediately coated your cheeks as you walked in on him shirtless and being bandaged. "Sorry!" You quickly said, your hands rising to cover your eyes.
All before the Eleventh laughed. "It's fine!" He said, his surprisingly charming voice not matching how he first arrived at the camp. "You must be the Captain's secretary." He continued. "I'll go ahead and assume he wants to know about what I saw?"
You nodded your head.
For the next few minutes, there was silence besides the movement of the doctors and nurses as they bandaged him and seemingly checked to make sure there weren't any other wounds or spots they may have potentially missed. "Hm...I'll tell him myself tomorrow." He eventually answered.
Your brow rose as you slowly lowered your hands, your cheeks still an obvious red color. "I'd assume that Capitano would want this information as soon as possible sir."
Tartaglia let out a snicker as he sat up, grabbing his jacket to throw it over his shoulders before his attention quickly returned to you. "And he will! I'm just more curious about his secretary. Being a part of Capitano's warband isn't easy." Your eyes narrowed slightly, trying to keep on your toes around him. You weren't looking to get on his bad side and the way that his eyes looked over you...it reminded you of how a fox would circle and toy with a rabbit before eventually going in for the kill.
"It isn't but I've managed." You eventually came to answer. "You get used to the cold."
"Every soldier does, it's a way of life when you work for us Harbingers."
It was then that you felt a familiar presence, a brief look behind you quickly making you lower your head in respect when you saw Capitano. "Captain!" Tartaglia greeted. "I'll go ahead and assume you want to know what I saw? It's what your cute secretary was asking about just moments before." You blushed at the sudden compliment, all before Capitano made a gruffing noise.
"Refrain from giving my secretary any problems Childe."
"Don't worry, don't worry." He said dismissively before a heavy hand suddenly placed itself on your shoulder.
"You may leave," Capitano said, and you didn't waste a second to retreat from the tent, your heart pounding in your chest from the sudden influx of compliments you received from the two Harbingers. It seemed that, with those two around simultaneously...things were bound to get more interesting around the camp from now on.
. . .
Since then, you've been caught in a weird "tug n' pull" between the Harbingers. One moment you'd be finishing paperwork for Capitano and then the next? Tartaglia would suddenly tug you away from your work in order for you to do some tasks for him! (Which, typically, wasn't even work at all but him just using you as a listening ear for ranting about his day). And Capitano caught Tartaglia dragging you away, he'd quickly intervene to bring you back at your side, sometimes even scolding the younger Harbinger in the process.
Although it was highly entertaining, in the process of being dragged away by Tartaglia a couple of times. You've been pleased to find out that he was sweet-hearted and a devoted older brother to his siblings, you couldn't remember a time where you were with him and he didn't mention his family at least two times. The way he'd wonder aloud about what gifts he would send them, about whether or not they were eating properly...it warmed your heart to where...you developed a crush on the ginger before you had even realized it.
"You know milashka...you could always work for me," Tartaglia suggested suddenly one late evening as you sat in a chair in his tent your eyes flicking up from your work to him looking over at you from his desk.
"Aren't you supposed to be finishing paperwork?"
He groaned dramatically. "It's hard to! Especially when you're right here in front of me." You rolled your eyes at his flirtations but, you couldn't deny the smile that found its way to your face before you could command your brain to keep it hidden. And that smile emboldened the Eleventh Harbinger greatly. "It can't be too fun to constantly march in the cold, at least with me, I'd bring you along to much warmer places."
"I don't mind the cold."
"No need to play tough, you caught a bad cold last week."
You huffed at Tartaglia's words, neither disagreeing nor agreeing with him as you watched him slowly rise from his seat behind his desk and walk over to you. You were familiar with that glint in his eyes, a glint that spoke of him planning something but...this time, it was more clouded with a certain hunger. "...I'm loyal to the Captain, he needs me here." You said with as much determination as you could muster up.
Tartaglia scoffed. "I know the Captain best, he's all business and no fun. The moment you prove that you'll slow the entire war-party down, he'll send you home." He said. "I've seen how you look at him milashka...he doesn't return your affections."
It was like an arrow pierced your heart right then and there at his words, your eyes widening at the information as you struggled to find a rebuttal. But...you couldn't give him one, although you haven't made your crush to Il Capitano extremely clear, you thought you made it obvious enough that you liked him and hoped that he would reciprocate your feelings. You've delivered gifts, given him compliments here and there, and even tried to initiate a conversation about whether or not he was in a relationship!
He shot it down so quickly, you didn't even think you got your entire sentence out.
Suddenly, Tartaglia's hand slipped to rest on your shoulder as he leaned down a little to coo into your ear. "Aww, don't pout. It's just not his thing to appreciate what's in front of him. Using only brute force and strategy doesn't work for more delicate things such as a pretty girl like yourself." He whispered. "I know how to approach things more delicately though, maybe you'd allow me to show you?" He continued before his hand steadily began to travel to rest upon your breast. Your mind raced with thoughts, switching between Capitano and the situation you were in now.
You wanted Capitano but...if he didn't want you back. You were playing a one-sided game, at least with Tartaglia, he was actively showing you that he wanted something with you. And it didn't help that he was handsome. Charming and good with his words, and seemingly even better with his fingers as he undid your button-up blouse with a single hand before he slowly parted it to reveal your chest. A quiet whistle left his lips at the sight before he slowly moved to stand in front of you, kneeling down with that same carefree smirk on his face that made you weak in the knees. "May I?"
Slowly, you nodded your head.
. . .
Both deadly on the battlefield and with his tongue. Such a combination was a force to be reckoned with. The moment you had nodded your head, Tartaglia wasted no extra time before he sank to his knees and pulled down your pants, pulling aside your already soaked underwear to reveal your waiting pussy to him. "Tartaglia..." You quietly moaned as the eleventh harbinger had your legs currently propped onto his shoulders, his tongue exploring your sex eagerly with a particular focus on your clit.
You watched how his eyes glazed over with lust, a deep groan reverberating in his chest as you gasped at the stimulation when his tongue began to move back and forth. Instinctively, your legs parted further for him, your chest beginning to fall and rise quicker and quicker as you fell deeper into the pit of pleasure that Tartaglia was giving you. "You're so pretty like this," He moaned against your lower lips, giving your clit a kiss before he pulled back to look at you, his index and middle finger moving to rub your clit back and forth as he looked at your face.
You arched forward as he rubbed your clit, his other hand moving to gently insert a finger into you. "Fuck!" You cried out when his finger touched a spongey spot inside of you.
A fox-like smirk crept onto his lips as he poked at that spot with more precision. "Oh~?" He whispered, his head lowering back to your pussy, his eyes still focused on you as his tongue teased your cunt with innocent kitten licks. "Is this your favorite spot?" He teased.
You struggled to keep your eyes from fluttering closed, hot tears brimming your eyeline as you looked down at the ginger as a whine left your lips. "D-Don't tease..." You whispered.
He nearly came untouched at your plea but it was just soooo much fun to mess with you a little, to make you beg and say exactly what you wanted him to do! After all...Il Capitano's favorite little secretary, crying and moaning on his fingers for him to give you more, he couldn't think of a more blood-pumping scenario. "It's so much fun to tease you though!" He finally said before his tongue went back to fully tending to your throbbing clit. A choked-up moan just barely escaped your throat from the sudden pleasure, your hands traveling to grip at his hair.
He groaned deeply at the twinge of pain, his inserted finger speeding up as he sucked and licked at your clit even faster, your body jerking and twitching in response every time he did something good with his talented tongue. "Fuck—! R-Right there...!" You gasped, your nails scraping and combing through his hair as his tongue ran down from your clit to begin prodding and poking at your entrance. Tartaglia let out a whine in response to the continued twinges of pain from you running your hand through his scalp, the whines eventually transitioning to groans as the sound sent intense vibrations through you, making your body unconsciously jerk against his mouth.
Then, he stuck his tongue out more, starting to poke and lick against your warm inner walls, a sensation unlike anything you've ever had the pleasure of experiencing in your life, only increased by the way he started to tongue-fuck your hole. The sensation made you dizzy, and keeping yourself from passing out from the pleasure was beginning to increasingly and increasingly difficult. A lewd mix of spit and cum started to run down from your twitching pussy and down his chin as he added another finger to try and fuck you more open. "Tartaglia!" You whined. "I-If you keep going—" the harbinger interrupted you by suddenly pressing into a completely new and more pleasurable spot than the one he had been pressing against before.
"If I keep doing this, you'll do what milashka~?" He smirked against your soaked cunt. "You'll cum for me?" He whispered. "Please do...I wanna feel this cute pussy throbbing in my mouth first before I fuck you silly with my cock next." A tight feeling started to form in your stomach at his lewd words, your moans growing louder and louder as pleasure-filled tears started to stream down your face. You were so close to the edge...his tongue felt so good to where you clenched, almost afraid to have this end so soon despite the promise that he would give you his cock next.
That is...until, you felt a brush of cold air against your skin, and Tartaglia stopped with an annoyed huff. "Captain," He greeted, the name making your eyes shoot open, your blurry vision moving to see a dark figure at the entrance into the tent before the curtain swiftly closed.
Feeling a sudden sense of shame wash over you, you attempted to close your legs...until Tartaglia forced them to remain open as he stood and moved to the side. "Jealous?" He purred, rubbing the side of his face against your own like a possessive cat. "Your secretary has such a cute voice...you must've heard it, seeing as you came to this tent."
"I expected my secretary to be back at my side an hour ago Tartaglia, only to find out that you're playing games with her." Your cunt clenched at the raspiness in his voice, a sound that you've never heard from the first harbinger before.
"Oh? Then why don't you play with us?"
Your eyes widened. "W-What?" You said in confusion.
"Your secretary here admitted to me that she harbored a crush on you! How cruel of you to not reciprocate her feelings, Captain."
Tartaglia was met with a tense silence. You were so embarrassed that you wanted the ground beneath you to open and swallow you whole, that is...until you felt another larger hand place itself on your thigh, spreading you open a little more. "...I'll play your little game Tartaglia," Capitano said.
"If she cries out my name, you'll proceed to leave my secretary alone from now on."
"And if she cries out mine...I'll be taking her with me."
Archons above...what had you gotten yourself into?
. . .
The sound of frantic plapping noises could be heard throughout the tent as the two harbingers fucked into you simultaneously. After the three of you had moved to the full, Il Capitano manhandling you into a full nelson as he currently fucked into your weeping hole, Tartaglia was left to slowly finger and prep your second hole with a cocky smirk on his face. "Good girl—" the Captain grunted into your ear, practically panting like a dog in heat against you as he effectively left you breathless on his cock. He was thick, the prominent veins on his cock pressed against every sensitive spot along your walls whilst his dick kissed at your cervix repeatedly.
Drool began to dribble out from the side of your mouth as your hands were locked in place with how hard your thighs were clenched to your torso, in an effort for Capitano to not only better fit himself inside of you but also for him to look over your shoulder to see how good he was making you into a cock-drunk doll.
"I think she likes being played with down here too Captain," Tartaglia moaned as he scissored your ass open, letting spit drip from his mouth and onto your hole as his other hand gently stroked his twitching cock. Through your blurry vision, your mind getting foggier by the second as Capitano didn't even think of slowing his pace to give you a moment to adjust to the preparation of Tartaglia sinking his cock into your hole. You clenched at the idea of being stuffed by two men, a particularly loud moan leaving you when the eleventh harbinger's cockhead pressed against the rim of your ass.
"Patience milashka," He smirked wickedly as he steadily sank into you.
"Fuuuck—!" You cried out, the sheer pressure of his dick entering your ass forcing your first orgasm out of you, much to both of the mens' surprises as Capitano's thrusts stuttered and slowed considerably.
That is, until Tartaglia let out a cocky laugh. "I'll be taking that win Captain!" He said confidently, a moan escaping his lips as soon as he was fully inside of you. "S-She did cum when my dick entered her after all..." He continued breathlessly.
"We'll see if she does that again, Tartaglia." And then, without even allowing another second to pass. The two men both began to fuck into you, the sheer feeling of being full sending you into an almost trance-like state as the lewd sound of squelching and skin slapping against skin filled your ears, your throat being ran raw from the amount of screaming and moaning you did as your head fell to rest on Capitano's shoulder. Until Tartaglia suddenly gripped your chin and forced you to look at him that is.
"Don't be so unfair secretary and give the Captain all your attention...give me some to..." He licked his teeth like a wild animal before his lips pressed against yours, swallowing up your moans as his hands ran up to begin massaging and pinching at your nipples. Capitano groaned at the sight, waiting patiently for Tartaglia to give his fill before his head dipped to kiss and lightly bite at your shoulders. The sharp feeling of teeth nipping at your neck...you had no clue what was hidden behind Capitano's mask but...as he whispered a soft "Look at me" into your ear before his mask pressed closer to you. You were shocked at the long tongue that licked at your lips before it entered your mouth, prodding and tasting at every crevice and corner as even more spit slipped from your mouth.
"S-So tight milashka..." The ginger moaned, his hips beginning to stumble in their rhythm as he felt his orgasm approach.
Capitano parted from your lips to laugh breathlessly. "Already?" The sound of his cocky voice made you tighten against him, the first harbinger clenching his teeth at your cunt tightening around his cock. "I...I thought you'd last longer..." He continued.
"So did I with you." Tartaglia shot back with a huff, pressing himself closer to you as his thrusts increased, the knot from earlier starting back up against as you keened in at the feeling of your approaching orgasm.
"Make sure to scream my name milashka..."
"No, mine."
Their continued pleas and begs for you to say their names fell on deaf ears before you threw your head back to let out a loud cry, a gushing noise just barely reaching your ears before you suddenly felt something hot flooding your insides. "F-Fuck..." Tartaglia whispered against you as he collapsed against your body, still taking care to keep some of his wait off of you to avoid crushing you. "T-Think...your tight ass milked me completely dry..." He giggled drunkenly.
The two men stilled, tremors and pleasure still zapping and coursing through their veins as they allowed themselves to catch their breath whilst keeping themselves snug inside your holes. Soon, however, their attention was drawn back to you as your walls started to clench them once more. "Seems like my secretary wants a little more," Capitano whispered.
"Seems that way," Tartaglia smirked. "A round two does seem to be in order...I didn't quite catch whose name she screamed first." A gasp left your lips when you felt the two harbingers' cocks twitch inside of you.
They'd gladly fuck you until you knew whose name to moan.
#smut#genshin smut#genshin x reader#genshin impact#genshin fanfic#genshin fandom#genshin fatui#genshin impact smut#genshin tartaglia#genshin childe#childe tartaglia ajax#childe tartagalia#tartaglia#genshin capitano#il capitano x reader#capitano#il capitano#fatui harbingers#genshin#capitano smut#childe smut#capitano x reader#tartaglia smut#tartaglia x reader#childe x y/n#childe x reader
842 notes
·
View notes
Text
How We Live In Tokyo
Genre: Smut, TFATF: Tokyo Drift AU!
Word Count: 5.8k
Pairings: street racer Matz!Hwa x street racer fem! reader
Summary: You were notoriously once known as the drift princess, but now you're Hwa's girl. In attempt to reclaim your title, you race, pissing off Seonghwa in the process. You are also Hwa's number one cheerleader.
Warnings: Hwa comes off as a meanie during certain parts, VERY minimal description of reader, Hongjoong openly flirts with reader (his bffs girl...), Hwa confesses, possessive Hwa, weed use, high sex, manhandling, ruined orgasm, oral m+f receiving, eating it through the panties..., lots of spit, spanking, mentions of Hongjoong fucking you by Hwa, Hwa is low-key into it, choking, just rough asf, reader cries during sex, deepthroating, creampie (unprotected sex asf), use of sir like once, basically Seonghwa fucks you stupid, very minimal subspace by reader, aftercare
A/N: She's here, for my first smut after a while it's not too shabby. I'm an over thinker so I kept reviewing and editing just making sure I was happy with the final product. Also I based the reader's car off Suki's pink car in 2003 movie, just cause I thought it'd be perfect for her. I hope you guys enjoy this Hwa as much as I did!
“Ready! Set! GO!” You swing the red cloth in your hand down, the cars beside you rev noisily. Smoke from the tire burnout goes up in the air engulfing you in a heavy cloud, and just like that the first racers of tonight were off. This was one of your favorite parts of the night life in Tokyo, the races. You never intended to become a car girl, but after a couple flings here and there got you into nighttime racing, the rush and thrill it brought you was simply euphoric. The crowd cheers loudly, flip phones out recording and taking pictures, you jump in the air waving your hands cheering over the loud music and screams.
While everyone was focused on the race at hand your eyes scanned the scenery for the only man that mattered to you, however he was nowhere in sight. You walked over to your pink Supra S2000 and leaned against the door. Your manicured hand ran over the sleek paint, you smiled at how smooth the finish felt beneath your fingertips. This car was your baby, everything was thought out and hand picked. Rolling around in a ride like your own had never made you feel anything less than superior. You were also Hwa’s girl and that in itself said enough.
As if manifested by thought, the loud exhaust causes heads to turn, the familiar midnight blue body and chrome accents on the 350Z were unmistakable. Your eyes lingered on the white lettered decal spelling ‘MATZ’ on the upper windshield, you smirked slightly as he pulled up next to you. People cheered when Hwa stepped out, clad in a long fur coat and a muscle tee underneath, he looked delectable. Despite the layers, the large letters in black ink decorating his neck were perfectly on display.
He greets his racing partner Hongjoong and the notorious KQ Fellaz who had also built an impeccable reputation amongst the Tokyo racing scene. He smiles at you as soon as he spots you. The glimmer of his grills catch the fluorescent lights of the crowded parking garage. “Hey.” He grumbles lowly in your ear, pulling you into him and pressing a searing kiss on your glossy lips. He looked down at you, long strands of raven black hair falling over his eyes. “You look good babe.” He compliments, long fingers coming up to tap on the hoops that were slightly hidden behind the layers of your hair. You smiled up at him, your legs suddenly feeling like jelly under his stare.
The arm wrapped around your shoulder drops as he turns around to look at the S2000 you were resting your weight on. He walks around it, a singular hand running over the paint. He lifts the hood up, whistling when he sees the engine, “V8 is looking good babe.” He closes the hood after admiring, “Thanks, can’t wait to take her out on a spin tonight.” At your words Hwa’s face drops, his small grin being replaced by a disapproving expression. “Not tonight baby.” You huff in annoyance, see before you and Hwa had gotten together, you were one of the best female racers in this particular part of Tokyo. Every Friday night you’d come out to the streets and race against other girls and even guys. More often than not you’d end up winning. Slowly, you built up a reputation for yourself, even earning the nickname ‘drift princess’ in the process. But that was before Hwa came in and dethroned all the top racers and drifters, ending your streak as well. Eventually, you fell for him, and while he looked stoic and rude on the outside he was a sweetie behind closed doors. His charm was all you needed to become enthralled in him, needless to say you became his princess; you were Hwa’s girl as everyone knew. You ate that title up every single time, however, the singular con about being his one and only was that in fear of you getting hurt, Seonghwa didn’t let you race anymore, not against the good ones at least. He’d always let you go against the newbies, those who were still getting the hang of the Tokyo streets and drifts.
“Seonghwa.” You begin in a begging tone, but he put his ring clad hand up, silencing you. You rolled your eyes, brooding against the Barbie pink car that was begging for a race. You watched as he went back to where Hongjoong stood conversing in a group.
A frown replaces the big smile you had just minutes ago.
You look around, hoping to find someone that’d wanna take you up on a race, even if Seonghwa had said no. Majority of the seasoned drivers were men, and due to their fragile egos, they wouldn’t dare race against you in fear that you might actually beat them and they’d never be able to live it down.
You huff in annoyance, and pull your car door open, slipping into the pink leather seats. Your mini skirt is short enough that you feel the cool leather against the plumpness of your ass. You shake your own tan fur coat off, flipping your long hair over your shoulder to give your moistened skin some air. Rummaging through your glove compartment filled with body spray and lipgloss, you pull out a roll of bubble gum, shoving a fat piece in your mouth.
As you reapply gloss and fix your hair in the mirror a female voice catches your attention, “hey,” you looked up at your friend who was polishing the car door just a few minutes ago. She nods in the direction of Matz.
Your eyes turn into slivers when you see 2 girls chatting with Seonghwa and Hongjoong. Hongjoong has his arm around the slimmer girl, he gives her a cheshire cat like smile and you could almost see her swoon, but that’s not who you were worried about. Seonghwa, is leaning against his car, arms crossed, talking to the girl in front of him. Her dainty hand comes up to touch the fur sleeve of his coat, she says something with a big smile that causes Hwa to cackle loudly. She wears a low cut halter top and a mini skirt slightly longer than yours, but the expanse of her legs made it look like a belt around her waist.
You rolled your eyes and stepped out of the car. You walk over to them, a big smile adorning your face, “hey baby.” You say in a sultry voice, your hand comes up Hwa’s arm and you proceed, “Who’s our new friend?” You turn to look at her, popping the pink bubble gum in your mouth.
You can audibly hear Hwa sigh, he leans into your ear so only you can hear, “play nice.” He whispers, his cold hand resting against the warm skin of your waist. You continue to look at her, and she smirks, “who are you?” You chuckle loudly at her words, catching the attention of the people that were around. Seonghwa lets out an airy laugh looking back at Hongjoong as if to say ‘are you seeing this right now’ to which his best friend just raises his eyebrows and chuckles, fully invested in the face off. “I’m his girlfriend. Who are you?” People are starting to gather around, you step closer to her and feel Hwa’s hand squeeze your side as a warning but you ignore him. There’s a look of realization in her eyes and her face relaxes, “ahh,” she starts, “you must be the so-called drift princess.” Her faux friendly expression drops into a stoic one, “Where I’m from there are no nicknames. You’re either good or absolute shit.” She spits.
Your heart hammers in your chest but you ignore it, “Is that a threat? Cause I bet you I can give you a run for your money.” At this point you’re so close to her you can see the glitter lining the underside of her eye. “If I lose, I’ll leave but if I win…” She pauses momentarily, looking behind you at Seonghwa, who stands arms crossed against his car, a serious look adorning his pretty features. He hated where this was going. “If I win I’ll have him.” You chuckle and so does Hwa, making the girl in front of you cock an eyebrow up in confusion at his reaction. “I hope you pick something else.” You say shifting your weight from one leg to the other. Her eyes wander to your right, “oof didn’t think the puppy had a designated owner but that’s fine. I’ll take your car.” People around you gasp and ‘ooh’ at her request. When you tongue your cheek, she feigns a pout knowing she’d hit the spot. “Deal, see you in 10.” She whips around and walks off somewhere.
Before you can take a step, Seonghwa grabs your arm tightly, spinning you around to face him. “You must be out of your fucking mind. You bet off the car you’ve worked so fucking hard on?” He scoffs, his tongue pressed against his cheek in annoyance, “you’re fucking unbelievable.” He groans, your arms cross at your chest, resting underneath your tits, causing Seonghwa to glance down for a split second. “Oh but if it was you it’d make it okay?” You leave him with his words in his mouth, walking away before he even got the chance to get a syllable out.
Hongjoong laughs loudly at your attitude and Seonghwa’s distress, he slaps his friends back in amusement. “She’s giving you a run for your money huh Hwa?” He says. The annoyed man shoots his blonde friend a glare, resting his hands on his hips he throws his head back and huffs out a breath.
You stand on standby waiting to get the okay from your girls as they check your car before the race. Your teeth toy with your bottom lip, nervousness settling in your tummy.
You hop in your ride and turn it on, the loud engine causing people to whistle. You might’ve been old to the game but the pre race jitters were very much real. Your opponent on the other hand seemed relaxed. Your hands are clammy on the wheel but with deep breaths you manage to bring the bile rising up your throat down. Hwa stands front row and you can see him through your windshield, he stares at you before whispering something to Yunho who was part of the KQ Fellaz. The tall and slender man draws his eyes to you as Seonghwa is in his ear, and he nods agreeing with whatever your boyfriend was saying. Hwa finishes and stands still in his spot, his jaw ticks, clearly upset at what was about to happen in just mere seconds.
A girl in low rise jeans and a skimpy top comes between both cars, your foot presses on the gas, your car sputtering loudly. “Ready! Set! GO!” The pretty girl lifts her hand up and just like that your foot slams onto the pedal. You feel it before you see it as you zoom down the spacious garage. With your opponent already a couple feet ahead of you, your heart hammers in your chest, body running on pure adrenaline.
A tight turn is up ahead and you maneuver the wheel and use the e-brake to perfectly drift around until you’re heading straight again. She on the other hand turns slightly too wide slowing her down by a couple of seconds allowing you to zoom past her. The girl is hot on your ass but you keep her at bay not allowing her to get the upper hand. Her pretty face contorts in frustration as she struggles to make any moves.
This is when you start to relax and it’s like you had never stopped racing. Your mind becomes so aware of your surroundings and what you were feeling. From the way your new wheels felt smooth on the cement, to the low vibrations shaking through you; this was euphoria.
Your eyebrows knit together in pure concentration as you accelerate. You hit another tight turn, performing the drift that many struggled with effortlessly. Right before the parking garage ramp that spirals upward into the main street, you keep going straight. With a heavy foot you press on the gas, giving it all you got, you can see the exit of the garage and the final drift that everyone always anticipated.
As you neared it you turned the wheel and pulled on the e-brake, successfully drifting up the ramp till you made it out, the hoard of people eagerly waiting. At the sight of the pink lights adorning the underside of your car, Seonghwa relaxes. You had fucking done it. Your wheels skid loudly as you slow down to park your car.
People high five you and jump on the hood celebrating what had basically been your comeback after so long. You hopped out the car, pulling your slutty skirt down and jumping on Hwa. His hands wrap around your waist, stuffing his face into your neck, taking in your sweet perfume. “Good job baby.” He whispers in that deep voice of his. “You’re so fucking hot you know that?” He says pulling you into a sloppy kiss. The girl who had raced you parks her car and hops out storming over to you. “That wasn’t fair.” She argues, “you are either good or absolute shit.” You shrug, reciting her words back to her. She grits her teeth and storms off, disappearing into the mass of people. You feign a pout and roll your eyes. As people start to head back down into the garage, Seonghwa pulls you into him. “Bad girl.” His words shoot straight to your pussy, a heat wave rolling over your body.
Another Friday rolls around, it'd been precisely one week since you won your first race back. It was already 11 PM but the streets of Tokyo were calling your name. Tonight’s outfit consisted of a low rise pleated miniskirt and a long sleeve crop top. You looked in the mirror, enjoying how your belly button jewelry dangled and glimmered under the warm lights of your room. Tonight would be special since Matz had gotten challenged by two random guys who wanted to claim territory. If there was one thing you loved to do on a night that Hwa would be racing was look pretty and sit like a good girl in the passenger seat of his car while he raced. I’ll be there soon baby, you sent Hwa a message through your pink flip phone hoping that he wouldn’t be too distracted to read it.
Singular strands of your hair stick to your glossy lips as you cruise down the somewhat empty roads, the wind blows through your hair and you sing along quietly to the Nelly Furtado CD Hwa had gifted you. It wasn’t long before you were pulling up into the infamous garage. If there were alot of people last Friday, they had tripled today, of course just for Matz. You pulled into the spot next to Hwa, your loud exhaust catching his attention. He went from talking with Hongjoong to looking at you. He smiled at your car, still not over how perfectly the pink decked out car suited you.
You killed the engine and hopped out, already feeling the eyes running over the expanse of your body, Hongjoong and Hwa included. If there was one thing about Hongjoong was that he did not care. Yes, Seonghwa was his best buddy, but he made sure to let Seonghwa know just how delectable you were with no shame. Still, in other ways he was respectful of his best friend’s relationship but he loved to take peeks anytime he could.
You walk over to your boyfriend who instead of the iconic big fur coat wore baggy cargos and a muscle tee, his arms on full display. “Hey baby.” You say pressing a kiss on his cheek, you smile at the slight residue of your lips on his cheek. He grabs your chin and kisses you, you try to pull back but the suffocating grip on your face keeps you in place. His tongue toys with yours, and he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth before letting go with a final bite. When you pull away he grins at your flushed face and how he had basically eaten all the lip gloss off.
“Hey Hongjoong.” You pant loudly, greeting the other man who had seen the entire exchange in front of him, he nods his head up at you, “drift princess has made a comeback huh?” He teases, you nod sheepishly. “Maybe next time you’ll take me up on a race?” You ask with big eyes and he smiles, “is that a challenge?” He asks, cocking his brow up, “of course.” He lets out an airy laugh, “that’s if Hwa lets you.” He teases, before walking towards his car. You turn to look back at Hwa who’s grip has tightened around you.
“Hongjoong is up first. Are you gonna be a good girl and cheer for him baby?” Seonghwa says leaning down so you could hear him. You nod and clap excitedly when you see Hongjoong’s car by the start line. As soon as Hongjoong takes off you and Seonghwa run towards the finish line, you both wait, watching through the small flip phone screens as people document the race. You cheer loudly when you notice Hongjoong’s car is ahead. In no time he is skidding up the ramp, drifting into the big pit. He had won! Hwa claps and whistles loudly at his partner's success, now it was up to him to win the second one to maintain the best of the best title.
You follow your boyfriend down to the garage and hop into the 350Z, you inhale the fresh car scent mixed with his cologne. “Ready baby?” You ask him, he grips your hand and kisses it, “always.”
Hongjoong peers in through the passenger side window, you buckle in as he talks to his best friend, paying no mind to what they were discussing. When he finishes he taps the edge of the window and sends you his infamous cheeky smile and a wink.
You sit quietly, sucking in a breath and getting ready for the ride. Hwa exits the garage, and that’s when it becomes too real. One thing about Seonghwa was that he always preferred racing in the streets rather than the garage that almost every race took place in. You place a hand over your chest, feeling your blood pumping muscle thrumming beneath your fingers. At the sound of you sucking in another sharp breath Seonghwa turns his gaze to you. “Scared?” He asks, a teasing smirk playing at his lips. You purse your lips swallowing thickly, nodding. “It’s usually more dangerous Hwa, I hate when you do this.” You say, voice barely above a whisper.
“Dangerous…” He scoffs, “That’s what I said last week when you raced and you still went against my word. So, sit, look pretty and hold on tight or get the fuck out.” He had gotten you there, regardless, there was no way to ever argue with Park Seonghwa. So, you shut your mouth up and look down at your fiddling hands.
The starter is another girl, she swings her bra up in the air and when it drops Seonghwa takes off. The g-force alone pulls you back into the seat, your hands grip the door handle and your seat, ironically your fear only grew. He hollers loudly already having a great advantage to his opponent, your body turns with the car as he drifts. You stared at his pretty features, his perfect skin and long nose bridge accompanied by his pink and plump lips. He’s too busy looking for the guy through his mirrors to really pay attention to anything else, the air blows violently into the car, your hair a mess now. The longer you sit in the car, the more you start to relax, the cool breeze in your face relieving your anxiety.
Seonghwa startles you when he grumbles loudly, he hits the steering wheel out of frustration, his opponent had passed him. You weren’t too familiar with the path Hwa was taking, perhaps racing here once or twice before and if you remembered correctly he was more than halfway done.
“Hold on!” He yells, he presses the red button beneath his thumb, immediately you are pulled back from the sudden acceleration. His 350Z zoomed by the guy in the other car and already you could see where the finish line was. Hwa keeps the man at bay as he rides his ass. As if it were clockwork the crowd of people disperse to make room for the infamous Park Seonghwa. He crosses the threshold into the pit of people, the car coming to a noisy stop. He cheers and you cheer along with him “I fucking love you.” He yells, you feel everything go in slow motion at that moment, the faces of the people cheering him on outside become a blur, it almost felt like you had ascended. “W-what?” you say in confusion, “I fucking love you. I am in love with you.” He says, smiling widely at you.
Like a tradition, people hit the roof and hood of the car congratulating him on another victory. He pulls you into a heated kiss and when you pull away you lean into his ear. “I love you too Hwa.” He hops out of the car and you follow suit, instantly, he wraps his arms around you and lifts you up. Hongjoong comes up and gives him a hug, “we are still the best of the fucking best.” Hwa’s best friend yells.
The rest of the night you had spent velcroed to Seonghwa’s side, celebrating the win and watching other races go on. By 2am you were ready to call it a night. That's when Hwa pulls you aside, “wanna spend the night?” He asks tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear. You nod eagerly, “we can get high and do whatever we want.” He whispers only for you to hear. His hands softly caress yours. “I’ll see you there baby.”
The drive to Matz’s garage is about 10 minutes, you pull in and park in the spot Seonghwa had reserved for just you.
The garage was Seonghwa’s and Hongjoong’s working space, it was scattered with car parts as well as half built vehicles. You stepped out of your pink mobile and headed up the metal stairs, your boots stomping loudly, sending vibrations up the railing. Hwa stands at the door and lets you in.
You stepped into the warm apartment, fully expecting Hongjoong to be there but instead it's quiet. “Where’s Joong?” You wonder, not wanting to impose on his personal space and most definitely not wanting him there if you and Hwa got to it. “Found some girl at the race tonight so he won’t be here.”
As always Hwa hands you an oversized shirt, it was a routine any time you stayed at his. Given that your clothes weren’t always the most comfortable, he’d always have an oversized tee on deck just for you. You strip in front of him, already feeling his gaze burning holes into your supple skin. You sigh gleefully at the feeling of the tight clothes being off your body.
Seonghwa sparks the blunt, his slender fingers bring it up to his lips, he takes a long drag and hands it to you. “I don’t know if I should.” You say quietly, weed just wasn’t your thing like it was Hwa’s. “It’s indica this time baby. You’re here with me, it’ll be okay.” You take the burning blunt from him and raise it up to your lips, praying that you wouldn’t end up panicking like the first time you had smoked with him. Your eyes close softly, as the smoke rushes into your lungs, affecting all your senses.
You hold the smoke in for a couple seconds, handing it back to your lover. Seonghwa takes 2 long hits, relaxing into the couch you two were on. Your eyes linger on him, you could see his eyes drooping slightly from the marijuana. His limbs are loosely splayed on the couch, blunt hanging loosely between his pointer and thumb. Without much thought you reach for the burning plant and take another hit, that was enough to have you feeling like you were melting into the couch. You didn’t know how, but Hwa always managed to finish the blunt, this time was no different.
“I’m pretty high right now.” He mumbles thoughtlessly slouching down even further. As the minutes tick by you feel yourself get more and more intoxicated. You felt tingles run up and down your arms and legs and your eyes felt heavy. Seonghwa drapes his fluffy blanket over the both of you when he notices your body starting to shiver. Normally, you’d be freaking out but for some reason you felt fine, just high. Seonghwa lays his head on your lap, eyes on the TV. You looked down at him watching his eyes slowly blink as he focused on Finding Nemo. The chills had subsided, if anything you felt warm now, even warmer as you felt Hwa’s hand trailing up and down your bare thigh.
He grins slightly when he feels your thighs twitch beneath him. He kept this up for what felt like ages, never getting close to where you really needed him. Seonghwa shifts down, the full weight of his head now resting on your left thigh. You lean your head back on the couch when he runs his hand between your legs this time. He fully reaches your hot heat. “H-Hwa…” You whimper weakly, you pout when he looks up at you. He sits up, one leg pulled in and the other one resting on the floor. He presses his lips against yours, his hands gripping your face. Nothing was neat about the kiss, it was filled with hunger and lust. His spit coats your chin now and you moan when his tongue snakes between your parted lips. He roughly pulls you onto his lap, large hands going directly to rest on your ass. You pulled away momentarily, to mumble a quick “I love you Hwa.” He pauses his actions, fingers brushing messy hair strands away from your face, “I love you too baby.”
Seonghwa grunts when you grind down forcefully on him, he pushes you off him roughly, and drags you into his room. You bask in his sheets, his scent completely engulfing you, you felt like you were drowning in him. “Been wanting to fuck you ever since I saw you in that stupid slutty outfit of yours.” He tugs his shirt off you. Immediately his lips latch onto one of your buds while his free hand toys with your other tit. You felt like you were floating and in a way he felt so far yet so close. All your senses were on overdrive thanks to the weed. “Seonghwa please.” His hands wrap around the back of your knees to flip you onto your belly,
His hand comes down heavy on your plush ass. Hwa smiles sinisterly at the red hand print forming, he feels himself twitch in his pants. He delivers a couple more slaps, “don’t think I have forgotten how you’ve been flirting with Hongjoong.” You lift your head up to protest but he shoves you back down and you let out a yelp. “What a slut. My best friend? Really?” He grits out as he works on the button of his pants.
You can’t push down the tears that sting your eyes, despite his words you knew he knew you’d only ever pick him, he just wanted to pick on you.
You rest tummy down one cheek pressed against the mattress, “Hongjoongie keeps messing wi-.” You’re cut off by Hwa’s hand landing on your already abused skin. “Don’t try to make it his fault.” He grits, leaning his torso to get closer to your ear, “but honestly if I was him I’d wanna wreck you too.” A wave of arousal crashes over your body, shooting straight south.
Hwa pauses, watching the way your thighs pressed together. You sniffle, tears rolling freely now out of frustration. “Are you fucking crying?” Seonghwa says brushing your hair away from your eyes. He scoffs, “no way you’re fucking crying.” Seonghwa clicks his tongue in disapproval.
“It’s okay baby, maybe one day I’ll feel nice and let him fuck you too. Would you like that?” He teases, flipping you back onto your back. You shake your head ‘no’. He spreads your legs open and toys with your sensitive bud that your panties outline. “No? Because you’re soaked right now.” Without slipping the dampened undergarment off he leans down and flattens his tongue against your cunt, soiling the fabric even further with his spit.
Hwa works his long tongue languidly against you making you writhe in his grasp. “H-hwa.” You moan attempting to shove your hips against his face. The grip he has around your thighs prevents you from doing so. He presses harder against you and loosens his grip allowing you to fuck yourself on his pretty face. You groan, involuntarily grinding against him desperately trying to chase your high. “Cum baby cum.” He sounds muffled, the weed heightening every sensation has you teetering on the brink of your orgasm rather quickly. Right before you fall over the edge he pulls away; waves of what could've been your orgasm roll through you but fade as quickly as they came leaving you unsatisfied.
You groan in annoyance, tears pooling in your eyes yet again. “You’re leaking from both ends now, that’s new.” Seonghwa says as he cups your chin, he leans down so his droopy eyes are directly in front of your teary ones. “There's no reason to cry so stop before I give a reason to.” His words make the tears actually roll down your face this time and he grins at the sight.
He flips you back onto your belly, “all fours baby.” As high as you were, you did your best to move into the requested position, your limbs moving slowly due to your impaired motor skills. He pulls your underwear down, sniffling slightly. You can feel his cockhead prodding at your sopping hole, you whine, wiggling your hips back against him. His large hands come to your shoulder blades to hold you down while he pushes in. You gasp at the intrusion, the stretch so delicious you squirm back to get more. “Stay still.” he grumbles annoyingly. He fucks into you hard, his hips being unforgiven against the globes of your ass. You keep shifting to which Seonghwa stops and places a hand on your lower back to deepen your arch. “Don’t move.” He keeps you there, his thrusts are deep and forceful, hitting that spongy spot deliciously.
Your mouth is agape but there’s no sound coming out. “God- fuck Hwa,” you pant, tongue lolling out of your mouth and your eyes rolling back to your skull. “Feels good huh baby” He grunts, his own pants and groans filling the room, “so fucking perfect- you’re perfect.” He whines desperately, rutting into your wet pussy, you fight for air, your gasps sounding high pitched every time you sucked in air.
He pulls out, “Get up quickly.” He commands, grabbing you by the arm, he manhandles you on your knees. “Open.” Your mouth drops open, tongue out ready for whatever he had to give you. Seonghwa wastes no time shoving his cock down your throat. You relax as much as you can, spit pooling in your mouth and falling onto your chest in thick ropes. Through the slits of your eyes you can see Seonghwa looking down on you with heavy eyes, the ‘Matz’ scribbled across his neck stretching beautifully as he throws his head back. Spit bubbles at the corners of your mouth and he grabs your head and shoves his dick desperately as far as he could until you are fighting to pull away.
You push back, resting your ass on your heels, fighting to catch your breath. “Good fucking girl baby. Cmon get up so I can’t fuck my load into you.” Hwa says, slightly out of breath. You lay back on the bed, hips hanging slightly off the bed, he slips right back in. Your spit mixed with your wetness, allows his cock to enter your walls smoothly. Your back arches off the bed as he fucks you hard, his hands push down on your waist once more to pin you down.
The fat head of his cock hits your spot again. Everything feels far away now, but your orgasm is fast approaching. “You’re fucked d-dumb aren’t you. Does my dick do that to you?” He asks, his tongue running over his pink lips, “look at you can’t even fucking answer me.” Seonghwa’s hand wraps around your throat tightly while his free one toys with your clit, stimulating you to the brink of your orgasm, a couple more strokes and your legs begin quaking on his shoulders, “Fuck Hwa, sir too muc- I can’t.” You cry out, bringing your arms that suddenly feel so heavy to push him off but instead he wraps his hands around your wrists and presses them into the bed, “it’s o-okay baby. I’m almost there.” Sweat drops are now falling on you. He slows down his thrusts, he grinds himself into your cervix that sends him over the edge. His hips still and he groans loudly emptying his load into you. You whine, weakly trying to get him off, but still relishing in your postorgasmic bliss. He pulls out watching the way you weakly curl into yourself, his spunk seeping out of you and he can't help but smirk.
“Don’t float away from me yet baby.” He says tapping your cheek. He slips the same shirt you had on earlier over your head and wipes you down. Slipping on some sweats and an old shirt he tucks himself in bed with you. Your eyes are now closed, the cloudiness of your high slowly dissipating but still, you felt exhausted. You slowly blinked, now realizing that Hwa had turned off the lights and you sleepily admired the way the neon purple lights from the signs outside illuminated the room.
“Hwa?” You ask into the darkness. “Hm?” He responds, not moving from his spot, “I might’ve agreed to another race next weekend.” You say sheepishly, he rolls his eyes in the dark, and you can feel the disappointment and annoyance radiating off him, “you’re in big trouble.”
#ateez smut#hongjoong smut#jongho smut#mingi smut#san smut#seonghwa smut#wooyoung smut#yeosang smut#yunho smut#matz smut#smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
I have read your story groupie love and omg did I love it, but i kept thinking about having sex with angry drunk Ellie, and I think you would be amazing at writing this.
Also read some of your other story’s i love them so much your amazing at writing.
I’m so sorry for the delay but yes!! I love this 😩💕
"𝑩𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑹"
₊˚ପ⊹. 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 - 𝖾. 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗆𝗌 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋
₊˚ପ⊹. 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗌 - 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖾 (𝖽𝗎𝗁), 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖻𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀
*𝖺/𝗇 - 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝖻𝖺𝖽 𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 :(
God, the way I can picture this so vividly- her face reading stone cold, and practically had the words "pissed off" written across her forehead, silently sitting beside you in the back of the Uber as you two made your way back to your shared apartment. Her knuckles whitened in a fist that rested on her thigh, and even though she was looking away from you, you could see the prominent, sharp angle of her jaw clenching.
She was drunk- well, the both of you were, but her even more so, but the tension between you two sobered you right up. She however, was still fully ignited, the alcohol proving to feed her anger further as you two made it up to your apartment.
She pushed you inside, and slammed the door behind her, giving you two the privacy she wanted to unleash whatever it is she wanted on you.
Before you could even settle in, take your shoes off, put down your purse, etc... she pushed you against the wall, and placed her hands on either side of your head, caging your body in with hers.
You say her name softly and with such submission, looking for her eyes that were hanging lowly at your chest which started to rise and fall more quickly.
"Ellie-" you said again, this time more serious as fear started to take over.
Ellie's eyes slowly came up, trailing your bare décolletage, and how your collar bones pressed against the thin layer of skin with each deep exhale of your lungs. The usually bight, and lush color of her eyes were much darker, glimmering a speck of something that bordered on sinister.
She chuckled, the whiskey on her breath fanning your lips, and you feel her hand on your side, slowly dragging her fingers up, and over your tit until it was on your jaw. Her thumb and fingers indented the skin of your cheeks as she maneuvered your face side to side like she was examining your expressions more carefully.
"Did you want her to fuck you, huh? Is that it?" She gritted, but at the same time breathed heavily with hostility and desire, hearing her own voice like this turning her on that much more-
"N-no, no, Ellie-" Your denial is cut off with a yelp as her fingers continued to dig into the sides of your face, and your lips forcing a pucker.
"I know you're not fucking stupid. She was all over you, and you-" she scoffed, dropping her hand, "- you let it happen." Her words were slurred, and she almost sounded deranged like the mere topic had refreshened the memory.
You started to defend yourself, spewing your innocence to Ellie about how you were just being friendly, and you had no other intentions besides the fact that you simply enjoyed the conversation, but it fell on deaf ears.
Ellie's lips were on yours. The front of her body flush with your chest, and her hands grabbing you all over. She deepened the kiss, slipping her tongue inside as you parted your lips to let out a small gasp.
She broke away, her eyes glazed with drunken lust, focusing more heavily on your swollen, spit coated lips before quickly closing the space once more.
"Bed." She mumbled against your mouth, pulling you away from the plaster by your waist, and sloppily directing the two of you down the hall to your shared bedroom.
Finally, she had you, behind closed doors, and at her mercy. Any other time, she would've taken her time teasing you, edging you, but she was drunk, mad, and so fucking eager to take care of the mess inside her boxers.
She forcibly kissed you, backing you up into the room until the back of your knees buckle against the bed, causing you to fall back onto it.
She crawled on top, holding your hand down by your wrist, and her lips stinging into the flesh of your neck.
Ellie pulled away breathless, and quickly took notice how your hips were squirming against her calculatedly placed knee between your thighs.
She scoffs a chuckled, "oh yeah?", and skimmed the palm of her hand up your thigh, pushing the hem of your dress up until the pink lace of your panties were exposed.
A small wet patch over your center welcomed her feeding eyes.
Ellie practically drooled at the sight, damn near choking on her own spit that overflowed inside her mouth from the mere thought of your taste on her tongue- the flimsy, see through fabric clinging to your puffy lips definitely not helping her desperation.
Ellie sucked the air through her teeth, placing her fingers on the plush of your lower stomach, and moved her thumb down your folds, exhaling an erotic breath as she did so.
Her brows knitted together, almost as if she was physically in pain because holy fuck-
She curled her fingers under the delicately sewn hem, pulling your panties down your legs and tossing it to the side. She mumbled a guttural "fuck" under her breath, spreading your knees apart with haste and a certain impatience that left a lingering sting.
Her lips and chin slowly disappear as she lowered herself down, and made her presence known by fanning warm breaths against your cunt before tempting a taste, but she was tempting herself just as much as she was tempting you. One lick wasn't enough. Hell, it would never be enough unless Ellie was smothered in your slick, dripping down her neck, and struggling to breathe with her nose buried inside you.
She needed more.
"Sit on my face." She more so demanded, positioning herself on the bed, and her hands already on your waist, pulling you on top of her.
"But Ellieuhh~" You wined against her lips until it turned into soft moans inside her mouth, her tongue twirling against your spongy muscle.
You straddled her waist and let her deepen the kiss however she wanted. Her hands began trailing under your dress, over your sides, and tits- palming and kneading the fat between her slender fingers.
Your clit thumped against her crotch- so hard to the point you were embarrassed she would feel it, but if only you knew how badly she ached for the same reason.
Your dress is peeled off your back and over your head- again being tossed somewhere without much thought from Ellie. And your hands were eager to do the same, both of you putting in the effort to take off Ellie's flannel, and Ellie taking it upon herself to discard her t-shirt underneath.
Your lips clash for another round, Ellie's arms cradling in the small of your back to hold your front closer to hers-
She broke away- lips glistening in a mixture of spit, casting a rose hue, and her irises blown wide-
"Fucking sit-" She gritted, her fingers tightening into the mounds of your ass before lightening her grip, "please." Her eyes softened- this time, begging.
What kind of girlfriend would you be to deny such a pretty little thing like herself of such needs? Especially when she asks so nicely.
You nodded shyly, and her arms wrapped around the underside of your thighs as you positioned yourself over her freckled face, your cheeks burning hotter by the second from the vulnerable position.
"What if I'm too heavy- ah-!" You yelped, the force of her hands pulling you down to her mouth catching you off guard, and definitely underprepared.
Your concerns seemed insufficient, and distant- her skilled tongue between your folds- lapping, and suctioning until her cheeks hallowed-
You melted against her tongue, slowly circling your hips and her fingers spreading the skin of your inner thighs so that she could wedge herself deeper into you.
Your hand breaks away from the headboard, coming down to intertwine your fingers in Ellie's hairline, squeezing her auburn locks close to the scalp, and held her in place as you dragged your cunt against her open mouth, using her like a toy.
Not like she was complaining.
"E-el... m'gonna cum-" You babbled, taking your bottom lip between your teeth, and rolling your head back, completely captivated in the pleasure that you didn't even notice how one of Ellie's hands was absent from your thigh, and had sunk below her waistband.
Ellie's moans became louder, muffled, but still audibly louder, sending a deep rattle into your core as her hips rolled up into her fingers, fucking herself, but with much more restraint than you'd expect from a drunk person. But the truth is, she didn't want to cum like this.
You release her hair, needing the extra hand to steady yourself.
Your voice pitched as you dragged your hips for the final time across her face, strings of slick still connecting the both of you as you lifted your hips away.
With wobbly legs, you start to carefully lift yourself, but you weren't moving fast enough for her.
Your body bounces against the springs of the mattress from the sheer speed of her attack, pushing you down with her on top of you.
You feel her hand wrapped around your airway, squeezing the sides enough to feel a certain dizziness that had you melting.
She kissed you, immediately giving you a taste of yourself on her tongue.
"Did you think we were done?" Her breath fanned over your ear, intoxicating you all over again, which gave Ellie just the right amount of time to distract you, shoving her pants and boxers down her legs before you could comprehend what was happening.
Ellie lifted herself, her abs flexing with each heave of her lungs, moving one of your legs the outside of hers by your ankle.
The smallest whine leaves your lips once you see her... like really see her, dancing your gaze from her face and down to the prominent 'v' shape of her hips, calculating her every move.
Ellie was eager. And she had absolutely no issue handling you more roughly to suit her needs, whether it be supporting her weight on the back of your thigh, pressing your knee into your chest, or stretching you to new lengths that burned your muscles.
And that's exactly what she did.
She wedged herself between your legs, all of her weight on you as she lowered herself, letting out a relieved sigh and tossing her head back as her cunt made contact with yours.
Her hipbones protruded with each rhythmic motion of her hips, starting slowly at first but quickly getting faster to match her desperation. As sensitive as you were, you wouldn't dare push her away, not when she was this close, and definitely not when she's mad, knowing she could make this so much worse for you.
Her green eyes disappeared behind her paper thin lids, and her head goes back, "You have no idea how- mmhm... how badly I've wanted to do this all night." Her voice was shaky, airy, but still maintained a bitter undertone that reminded you how you got here in the first place.
Ellie's patience was thinning, and the restraint she maintained up until this point had gone out the window.
Your eyes glazed over, watching her with a dumb, fucked out expression, and your jaw loosely hung to let out small, pathetic whines.
Ellie, however, was pussy drunk. There was no other way to explain it. Her brows cinched together at the middle and pushed on your leg, spreading you further apart to ensure full contact before collapsing on top of you, breathing into her neck, "pussy s'good- fuck... you make me feel so good..." Her fingers wrapped around your neck, her lips lazily dragging over your jaw and cheek to plant delicate kisses, which completely contradicted what she was doing below.
Her head drops, and you feel her grip close in around your airway, rutting her hips at a much shorter and jagged pace than before.
You whined her name and sunk your nails into her forearm, your head fuzzy and bordering on unconsciousness.
"Shit...fuck-" She lifted her head from your chest and met your eyes, "-I know, baby. I know." Her voice was soothing, filled with so much sympathy, but it didn't make her any less relentless.
She shushes you with her lips on yours, adding her own moans to the mixture as tears stain your cheeks and seep between the kiss, leaving a salty/sweet tinge on your tongue.
Her hips started to falter before continuing, dragging out a few more long and weary thrusts, her moans ricocheting into the back of your throat until her hips finally stilled.
She softens the kiss, pecking the corner of your mouth before pulling away, and lifts a hand to run the back of her knuckles over your cheek- so sweet and so comforting with the alcohol weakening in her bloodstream, making her realize the anger she felt before was misplaced.
Sweat gleamed across the highs of her cheeks and across her nose, the vibrant hue of her eyes returning and practically begging to be forgiven.
"I love you." She whispers, her voice slightly horse and dry, flickering her eyes to various points of your face.
No, it wasn't the traditional "I'm sorry", but you knew what she meant.
Your hands come up, cupping the sides of her face, and pull her down to your lips.
"Apology accepted."
#ellie williams x fem reader#Ellie Williams#ellie williams tlou2#ellie williams fanfiction#Ellie Williams smut#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams tlou#tlou2 ellie#ellie tlou fanfic#ellie tlou2 smut#ellie tlou x reader#ellie x reader#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams x reader#ellie tlou smut#ellie tlou2#tlou fanfiction#tlou smut#tlou2 fanfic#the last of us 2 fanfic#tlou2 smut#ellie the last of us 2#ellie x you#tlou ellie#the last of us fanfiction#ellie williams x f!reader#ellie williams the last of us#ellie tlou
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
white tee. sasuke uchiha.
˖ ࣪ ⭒ ◞ warning ━━━ fem!reader, boyfriend!sasuke, mating press, choking, dacryphilia, cream pie, breeding, lots of dirty talk cause why not, sasukes mouth is filthy, praising, sub!reader, pleasure!dom, overstimulation, clit rubbing, face grabbing, slight manhandling, pet names < pretty, baby, princess >, black coded, lowercase intended.
# . summary : he loves fucking you on the couch,
"unh, fuckkk." your breathy whines filled the air with your glossy, plump lips parted slightly, pretty ( e/c ) eyes averting hesitantly to the small pudge evident on your stomach. the swift, and deep thrusts of his thick tip against your gummy cervix has the both of you panting softly, his now rosy cheeks becoming more evident.
"sasuke." you slur once again, completely drunk off of his cock and the way he would roll his hips with your own. tears well up slowly in your eyes from the pressure, meaty legs folded up over your shoulders as he bullied his cock into your creamy cunt. "'s too deep, feel it in my tummy."
"hm? you feel me in there?" he asked placing his hands on the print in your stomach, voice calm and monotone as ever, with a small drop of breathiness from his poor attempts to try & not bottom out while he was deep inside of you. it was just so wet and tight, and so fucking warm. at this rate, you were going to drive him crazy.
you responded with a eager nod, only getting a cocky and smug smirk from the onyx haired boy, along with his large hand wrapped tightly around your neck, causing you to choke out a broken moan, though it sounded much like a wheeze from the tightness. a creamy ring coated his thick cock, watching himself disappear into your soppy hole feeling the blissful way your leaking cunt clenched around him.
"look how good you’re taking me." he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at the way he rammed his throbbing cock into you.
you've already came multiple times on him, making a huge mess on his white tee shirt as he rammed and bullied his cock into your pussy. the wet, and downright nasty sound of skin clapping filling his ringing ears, feeling the way your ass smacked against his abdomen harshly, balls slapping against your ass. boobs jumping from the impact, though he kept the comforter steady from the steel grip he had around your bruised neck.
"mm shit, princess. so fucking tight around me. look at 'er." he rubbed his free lankly fingers over your swollen bud as you drooled slightly in the corner of your plump lips, tongue freely out and eyes crossed dumbly. "creaming all over my dick like this. wanna fill her up." he almost groaned when you began fucking him back, your fingers clawing into the couch he was fucking you into. he watched the way your plush thighs jiggled as he slammed his hips into your own, also catching the way your arms and knees grew weak from holding them up. he didn’t care though. he wanted to use you, and he was going to do exactly that.
he shoved two fingers into your mouth, feeling the way you immediately wrapped your wet tongue around them, sucking and slurping causing a grin to grow on his face. "good girl." his words making you feel tingly.
he felt his balls grown heavy and tight, sinking his pearly whites into his pink bottom lip as he stared down at you, onyx eyes lidded and hazy. shoulder length hair falling in his face as he abused your cunt even more, letting his spit drop onto your clit as he rubbed and played with it. your pussy squelched all around him, his thick cock coated in your slick making wet noises. "mhm hear that baby? that's all you. so wet. so pretty." only thing these words did was arouse you even more, making it easier to slip inside of you.
"hng . . . keep fuckin' my dick back like this. jus' like that, baby. 's all yours. make it wetter." he pushed your legs further over your shoulders with his free hand, causing you to scream, tears rolling down your face whilst he continued to choke you with the other. he loved hearing your loud cries for him, all it did was stroke his massive ego. you sobbed as he pounded mercilessly into you, pussy swollen and sore.
"oooohh, yesss." you mewled feeling the overstimulation he was putting you through, as you let him abuse and use your cunt, feeling your stomach tighten into a knot for the 10th time already. you felt the way his hips began to stutter against yours. you can tell he was about to cum. right inside of you. "ooh shit, g'na cummm!" you chanted continuously as you felt a huge wave of pleasure hit you like a brick as your ass clapped against his pelvis, the squelchy sounds of your dripping cunt filling your ears and dropping onto the floor.
his onyx eyes glared into your own, his jaw clenching as his thrusts grew sloppy, but his pace never faltering. "me too, baby. gonna let me come inside?" he asked, though he already knew the answer as you brokenly whispered out sweet nothings as you nodded eagerly. "let it all out, pretty." is what you heard before you released your climax, feeling a huge wave of white ecstasy fall over your frame, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you clawed your way into your fluffy couch. you heard a loud groan emerge from him before the feeling of your cunt getting filled up with his kids filled your body.
the both of you panted softly as he fucked his seed into you, making sure none of it spills out. he spilled everything inside of you, watching as yours and his juices leak into the corners of your clit. he closed his eyes, and kissing all your face.
all rights reserved / © beastaarz.
ttm, wattpad / @ beastaarz.
an : first blog. hope ya liked :)
#uchiha sasuke#sasuke smut#sasuke x reader#sasuke x you#sasuke x y/n#sasuke uchiha x reader#naruto smut#naruto#sasuke uchiha#naruto x black reader#sasuke x black reader#sasuke#black reader#beastaarz#.beastaarz
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
participating on WIP Wednesday because this fic has been sitting in my drafts for months now
!! poly!141 x reader; established john price x reader; f!reader
Their Captain introduces you to them, cinnamon in his eyes and his words honeyed. Your name settles on the tip of their tongues, waiting to be digested. To be sounded out by their own voices.
Simon murmurs it to himself, feels the word sliding between the cracks of his teeth like milk, and gulps it down, starving. It fuels him, this little piece he now has of you, and sets him ablaze as you flutter between them with gentle questions and quiet giggles.
You are soft—too soft for any of them, in fact—but they can see why their Captain is enamoured, his own desire greater than their own. It is intense as it scalds down their spines and jagged because their Captain isn’t a good man, they all aren’t, but there is something disconcerting in the way their Captain had claimed you.
It was rushed, sweet to a fault, but done so rapidly it felt like a beast pouncing on its prey. Like their Captain had seen the beauty of your soul and decided, then, that you’re all his.
Simon washes down the taste of defeat in his mouth with his shot of whiskey, mentally dedicating this drink to his Captain because he knows he would’ve done the same.
He would’ve kept you in a house just as cozy; would've played house with you to distract you from the foulness of his virtues because kindness, civilian to that extent, is so foreign to them now. He would keep you full of him, satiated with his presence and dripping with his cum—
“Sweetheart, c'mere.” Their Captain’s voice pierces the staccato of his thoughts. Simon twitches, suppressing the full-body jolt because there’s something measured in the way their Captain called you.
They watch as you pad towards him with a hum, a bounce in your steps, before reaching to cup his cheek the moment you get close.
“Hi,” you murmur, a breath too quiet.
Their Captain chuckles, basking in your warmth, before curling an arm around your waist and tugging you to his lap. You fall with a little gasp, your hand tight on Price’s shirt as your eyes swing to them in surprise.
“John, they–”
Price kisses the back of your shoulder, fixing his arm over your stomach. “They won’t mind.” Dark eyes turn to them too. “Would you, boys?”
They feel parched. Thirst palpable in the way they have their jaws clenched, their tongues heavy inside their mouths. They devour the pretty sight you make—all bashful looks and hunched shoulders, looking so utterly soft, so charmingly fragile, atop their Captain’s lap.
It sets off their primal instincts, their desires ravaging their sanities.
“No,” Gaz is surprisingly the one to reply. His voice was smooth and clear, bouncing against the walls with surety. “Don’t mind at all.”
There must be something in the way Gaz was looking at you or perhaps you were also able to hear the unabashed want coating his words, but whatever it was, it made you sit up straighter, head tilted to the side, thinking.
Considering.
It makes all of them jolt, even Price feels a stirring inside his jeans at the sudden shift in your posture, because this changes everything.
It was not that they would be satisfied with only having a look, with only seeing what they want and pretending that their thoughts—dirty and ragged and full of filth—are enough to satiate the fire stoking deep inside, but they didn’t want to set off their Captain. They didn’t want to meet the beast inside the man’s eyes, and be further punished by having you be taken from their reach.
Because the moment they crossed that little door, the moment you smiled up at them and told them that they’re welcome in your quaint little home, in your space, you were theirs.
And their Captain would just have to deal with that.
But Price is already looking at them with crinkled eyes, his lips busy as it drags all over the expanse of your shoulder, his palm gentle as it rubs over your stomach.
Kyle takes it for what it is—a permission.
637 notes
·
View notes
Text
⊹ FOR SURE
RELATIVELY STABLE AND TENTATIVELY ABLE TO SAY FOR CERTAIN WHETHER THIS UNCERTAINTY IS FOR SURE
wc: 2k
cw: sad and probably ooc dazai but he’s my husband so i actually know how he falls apart, pretty straightforward references to anxiety+dissociation, references to self harm+suicidal ideation but nothing graphic, angst+hurt/comfort, dazai cries and then you feed him that's all
reid: a little spur of the moment something i started when i wasn’t feeling so hot a bit ago. ethel cain’s cover of this song has altered the course of my life anyway enjoy me projecting
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
He was quiet when he got home, which is uncharacteristic, unless he’s scheming. But there was no glint in his eyes and no menace behind his grin, only exhaustion. What’s more is there was no downcast expression, no particularly sluggish movement to suggest he was upset; granted, he would regularly go on performing his usual persona even if he was upset. He was always all moving puzzle pieces, all thick mask and mystery.
It’s a good thing you’ve learned to read him so plainly.
You owe it to the little shared space you’re in, wrapped in a blanket on the couch, reading a book of his as he shakes his coat off and tosses it across the small dining table with two chairs side-by-side at it instead of across from one another. Dazai usually hangs his coat up on the rack by the door, slips his shoes off mindlessly and comes to flop his entire body weight on top of you, but tonight he pulls his laces undone and leaves his shoes tucked neatly against the wall, walks by the back of the couch to press a ghostly kiss to the crown of your head, and heads straight to the bathroom, which he locks himself in.
You swallow as you hear the shower start. You had specifically picked out an apartment with a standing shower, no tub, when you moved in with him. You’d emptied it of razors a handful of times and you probably would a handful of times more, and you kept all of both of your medication in your bedside table. Still, you can no longer quite focus on the words in front of you.
So, you flick the television on. A little more noise in your brain helps tune out the shower that’s just that—a shower. He showers, most often, because he’s feeling strange and not because he needs to feel clean. Maybe he needs to feel clean, but not in a way that a shower will allow. He does it anyway. You wait.
When the water turns off and he doesn’t immediately bounce out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, singsonging which leftovers you should heat up for him, you turn the TV volume down a few notches. When it’s been five minutes or so, you find yourself in the kitchen putting day-old bibimbap in the microwave. When it’s been ten, you’re knocking on the door.
"Osamu?" Your voice is soft as your knock. "I waited for you to eat." Dirty trick, you know. But you also know he won’t otherwise; not on a night like this.
You hear a bit of shuffling before the bathroom door creaks open. His eyes are red, his nose flushed, and he’s rubbing his face with the corner of his towel like he’s just awoken from a nap. He’s got no bandages on. He nearly whispers, "You didn’t have to."
"Wanted to." You work the towel from his hands as he turns the light off. He’ll hide behind the darkness if nothing else, but it’s alright; you’ll let him. You pat water from his shoulders before you sling the towel around him like a cape. You whisper back, "I’ll get you clothes. Please get silverware, yes?"
You don’t give him much of a choice, but he’s in a state where he’s pliant enough to listen to corporeal orders. Getting silverware will be a marginally easier task than dressing for him right now.
After pulling a sweatshirt and pair of pajama pants out of your drawers—they’re his, or maybe yours, doesn’t really matter; what does matter is they cover as much skin as possible—you return to him on the couch, two bowls of cooling bibimbap with chopsticks stuck in them on coffee table. He’s got as much of his bare body under the towel as it will allow.
When you set next to him and peel the towel back he looks nearly catatonic. It spurs tears to your lash line, but you hold back. "Arms, please."
He shoves himself into the hoodie, tousling his wet mop of hair in the process, and takes the pants from you, which he stands robotically to step into. When he sits you wrap five fingers across the top of his flannel-clad thigh and press a short kiss to his cheek.
As if sparked by your touch, he curls himself into you.
You’re quick to receive him; you unlock his hands from where they latch behind your neck, gently, like everything else, and you lean back, back, until your head is hitting the pillow you were lounged up against earlier. His fingers scramble for somewhere to land; you will his weight down onto you, his shoulder and hip to tuck beside yours on the inside of the couch, his free arm and leg to sling across your body and his sweet face in the side of your neck. The water from his hair soaks through your shirt. You don’t care. You feel his breath; your fingertips trace circles along his spine, and your outside hand comes to tangle up with his. Eating will have to wait.
You don’t waste time asking if he wants to talk. If he did, he would’ve started by now.
So you focus on his breathing, and how lucky you are to have it ghosting along your collarbone. He’s gray, then white, then gray, then blue in the light of the TV as his thumb moves across the back of your hand, stiff, like it’s just been freed from paralysis.
You wait for his breath to shake; you know it will.
And he knows you know, because he squeezes your hand in a pulsing rhythm like a heartbeat. He hates this. He hates that you've seen him crumble so many times that you know exactly what he needs.
You say it so softly, again, almost a whisper: "I've got you, my love."
He doesn't want you to say it's okay or let it out or talk to me; this is another thing you know very well. He feels like he's floating away from what little sense of self he has to begin with and it's not okay, and he doesn't want to talk about it, he doesn't want to be told when to cry or not, but he does need reminded that you're here, and you're real, and so is he, and so is this thing that both have; you'll grab his ankles and pull him down out of the air. You always do. You always do.
So he cries anyway.
It's like hearing a foreign language leave his mouth. There's something so assured about Dazai even while he believes he's all smoke and mirrors and seeing—hearing—his voice jump between heaving breaths and cracking sobs has always jarred you in some way. Moreover, now that you're so attuned to the way he breaks, it fills you with a tired anger that you can't place on anything concrete. It's a frustration you're glad to shoulder with him, but a frustration no less. You would set fire to everything you could touch, strangle it all to death with your bare hands, if it guaranteed his peace. But you know he wouldn't want that, not anymore; you quell the rage inside you between strands of his hair, fingerpads combing over his scalp with all that anger channeled into love, pure love. For as terrible and rotten as he's convinced he is, he's truly turned you into something softer than you thought yourself capable of being.
You feel his heart racing double-time against yours; you briefly wish you had no chest, no ribs, no physical form to separate you from him, so that your heart could cradle his, give over to his troubled body the time of the breath yours breathes.
He's all jagged edges right now and you're holding him like he's made of cotton. It makes him worse, momentarily, and he tears his hand away from yours; he knows wrapping around you like this, like a boa constrictor around its prey, will make his arms lose feeling but he does it anyway, like he's worried you'll go up in a cloud of dust if he doesn't hold onto you tight enough. He knows it's probably uncomfortable for you, too, laying back on his knotted fingers while he shoves every piece of himself as close as he can get to you, but you don't say anything, don't even make a sound when he hyperventilates into your shoulder and pushes out pathetic whimpers between his stuttering. He knows his face is twisted into that expression he long ago deemed too ugly to look at in the mirror. He gasps like he's underwater, and you just press your cheek to his temple while you lose track of if the wetness on your shoulder is from his hair or his eyes. It doesn't matter. You love him so fucking much.
He weeps against you with his constraint surrendered, loud but muffled by your shirt, at least until whatever movie was on is over. When he finally lifts his head, your eyes flutter open. You hadn't realized you closed them.
You tilt to look at him; the seam of your shirt collar is imprinted into his cheek. His bangs have dried wildly; you push them away from his eyes which are raw with sorrow, and Dazai's hands unclasp from behind you, settling back to how they first were with one curled up into the couch and the other interlaced with yours. He's devastatingly beautiful. You can't help the ghost of the sad smile you wear; it's because he's so gorgeous, and also you want to let him know you're content to be here—not content with what's upset him, not at all, but content to pick him up and help him haul himself forward. He does not reflect the smile back to you. You don't blame him.
"Let's eat." You leave the please unspoken, but it hangs there anyway.
"It's cold," he complains, still distant, but with a glimmer of a pout you think may be him. He's not getting out of it, though.
You sit him up, keep him close to your side and pick up a bowl; it's indeed cold, but you take a bite anyway, as if to show him it's not so bad. When you hold sliced carrot and broccoli to his lips, he looks at you like you're trying to feed him dirt, but opens his mouth anyway.
And it may as well be medicine going down. Not that he particularly cares for reheated and recooled leftover bibimbap, but your fingers being at the other end of the chopsticks makes it appealing. More than appealing. Delightful, even. He never really understood how things like food, music, or art could be healing until he met you and you doodles silly pictures of him on slow Sunday mornings, sang old love songs to him while you shooed him away from the stove as you cooked dinner, fed him leftovers in your shared home, on your shared couch, surrounded by all the things that were both yours and his, sweatshirts, books, blankets, chopsticks alike.
And he tells you that in his own way.
"Heat it up again for me? Please?"
He speaks the plea this time, and you grin—not sad this time, but wholly, as he relights slowly in front of you. And as already established, you'd do anything for him.
"Mhm."
"I love you," he blurts. Tags it on. You stand, gathering both bowls, still grinning.
"I love you." No question about any of it. You press a kiss to the crown of his head. He unfurls the blanket from where you'd slung it over the back of the couch earlier, picking up the remote to flick through the channels, finally breathing steadily as he waits for you to return from the kitchen. Your kitchen, his kitchen. He hears the microwave hum, in another room, not on another planet. He knows he'll be alright.
#with love—reid#bungou stray dogs x reader#dazai x reader#osamu dazai x reader#bsd x reader#bsd dazai x reader
310 notes
·
View notes