#could’ve been a fwb thing too

[loosethreadsofyoursoul]

on a scale from 1-10 how likely is it that lassiter and nick conforth (played by ralph macchio in 5x13) used to date at the academy

i’m gonna say 11

[127rkives]

</3 hotline bling || j. jaehyun </3

about? jaehyun misses her, but she’s on to bigger better things. (world’s worst synopsis but it’s the best i got bro) warnings? angst!!! fwb? non idol au. fem reader. mentions of sex, alcohol use, drug use (weed). i think that's all. wc? 1.7k notes? another old repost👹

you used to call me on my cellphone late-night when you need my love

************************************************ 3 months, 1 week, and 4 days. that’s how long it had been since jaehyun last saw you. but, hey, who's counting? if he had been, he would have succumbed to that void feeling in his chest by now. the one created by you but ultimately worsened by his own actions. his own actions ruined the best thing he ever had. but it was your fault too, right? 

if you didn't have such an illuminating smile, such a feather-light yet addicting touch, such an effervescent personality, such a radiant aura, then he the both of you wouldn't be in this situation. no. if you hadn't wanted something more and jaehyun hadn't been too scared of ruining a good thing even though he knew you deserved more—deserved better. he knew you deserved the world and the stars along with it, but he was so afraid he couldn't give it to you. so he cowered behind his thoughts; he dismissed the relationship you had, shutting you out in the process. 

thankfully, you had a mind of your own. you knew better than to remain where you weren't wanted. you knew your worth. that's probably why jaehyun had that constant ache in his chest, that pang in his heart. the void. 

he was expecting you to dismiss the fact that he couldn't come to terms with himself you and continue with the late-night phone calls. sneaking out of the apartment at 1 and 2 in the morning—when he thought everyone was asleep—to spend hours at your place. half naked smoke sessions with deeply thought out conversations lingering in the air with every puff. or hot nights in your room that always seemed to end with clothes scattered here and there, fluffy comforter somehow still clinging to a corner of the bed, and the sheets tangled around only you because he was never there when you woke up. ’he had better, more important things to do.’ you would convince yourself. but when you finally stopped gaslighting yourself with that excuse, you realized he couldn't face his own music.

************************************************ ever since i left the city, yougot a reputation for yourself noweverybody knows and i feel left outgirl, you got me down, you got me stressed out'cause ever since i left the city, youstarted wearing less and goin' out moreglasses of champagne out on the dance floorhangin' with some girls i've never seen before

************************************************ guilt. jealousy. anger. sadness. utter outrage. one of these emotions—possibly even a mixture—was grasping at jaehyun's heart and yanking at the strings right now. even so, he couldn’t stop rewatching the clip on his phone in front of him. it wasn’t like he meant to find you. he just happened to be scrolling through the explore page on instagram and much to his sudden disbelief you were the thumbnail on some video. against his better judgment (of course) he clicks the video, watching you hold a cup of God-knows-what in the air as your body hazily sways in a sea of people inside of what looks to be a club. jaehyun’s face is still one of shock as the girl recording yells something cringey about all of her friends being ‘badies’ and ‘hot girls’ and continues to survey each of her friends, including you, while everyone gets more excited with the new song’s change of pace.

it could’ve been all in his head but that video seemed way longer than the allotted one minute. jaehyun doesn’t know how many times he watches the video before he decides to click on the girl’s profile (a bad decision on behalf of his 2 functioning brain cells). his thumbs seemed to move on their own as he scrolled down her page and searched through countless posts of herself, her with her family, and her with her friends. jaehyun couldn’t pry his eyes from the screen as he clicked on a picture with you in it, hoping you would be tagged. you were, of course, so he clicked. another mistake on his part.

your username and bio were both different. even though jaehyun hadn’t visited your profile in a while, he did remember the main details of it. jaehyun repeated his earlier actions and examined your page this time. there were posts of yourself. you and your dog. you and your family. you and this new group of friends he had never seen until now. you and some man? you and this man hugging, holding hands, kissing, traveling, eating out together? you and jaehyun used to tell each other about everything, and you had certainly never mentioned him before. you people aren’t supposed to move on this fast. hell, jaehyun hadn’t even moved on. he still listened to the playlist you two had created together. he still dreamed about you. he still woke up with the lingering touches of you on his body as if you had been beside him moments before. he still had late-night venting sessions with taeyong as he sniffled and wiped his teary face after genuinely expressing what he was never able to tell you face-to-face.

but, here you were. you had completely evolved from the person jaehyun knew almost 6 months ago. you weren’t the same girl who posted simple photos of herself in cute, comfortable outfits captioned with inspirational quotes, or wholesome reviews of the new greek mythology book you had bought at your favorite, cozy bookstore. this was some girl who had grown to almost a 80,000 followers in just 6 months. this was some girl who posted pointless photos of her newest hermes purse; some girl whose wardrobe would alternate between burberry pantsuits and louboutin heels, to nike tracksuits and air force ones, to what could very well be some bundle of strings fashion nova tries to pass off as a dress. this new girl—this new you—was copacetic, thriving, and glowing. you were happy with this seemingly very outgoing group of people who the old you would’ve never thought about fraternizing with. worst of all, the new you appeared to be enjoying life with some guy that wasn’t jaehyun. jaehyun’s a complete mess without you laying next to him at 2 in the morning and you were supposed to be the same. he was supposed to have the same crippling effect on you as you did on him. 

apparently, jaehyun had been sitting in his whirlwind of thoughts long enough for his phone to lock. he pulled himself out of his trance and made his only decent decision of the day. he went to find taeyong, knowing he would still be awake and available to examine whatever emotional baggage jaehyun had this time. he told taeyong about his earlier revelations (leaving out the part about your apparent love interest). “why don’t you just talk to her? tell her how you actually feel.” weren't the words he expected to hear. he didn't know what to expect, honestly. 

as jaehyun laid in his bed he picked up his phone with shaky hands. when he unlocked it, he felt another tug at his heartstrings, forgetting that his phone had locked on a gorgeous post of your beaming smile while he was in a daze earlier. the time on his phone read 1:46 A.M. he didn't want to call you. you might not pick up. but he wanted an immediate response. jaehyun needed validation right now. he silently prayed that your number hadn't changed along with everything else during your productive time away from him. he opened his messages and clicked on your name; ’y/n💛’. jaehyun smiled to himself as he looked at the last messages sent between the two of you. you had been sending memes back and forth, with the last message before the hiatus being three emojis expressing your laughter. 

jaehyun pondered for a few moments on what to type. ’yo y/n it's me.’ ’hey it's me, jaehyun.’ ’hey y/n we haven't talked in a while.’ he wasted a good twenty minutes overthinking, typing, and erasing potential conversation starters. then he just decided to pour out what was left of his heart. fuck it.

he didn't expect you to reply quickly, but he wanted you to, so jaehyun kept his phone unlocked and open to your messages as he waited. he had peeked two minutes after hitting send, but he didn't notice it then. jaehyun let five more anxious minutes pass before checking again. he almost didn't notice it that time, but somehow he managed to spot it.

the small subscript under his message. ’read’

jaehyun didn't know if it was him being delirious with fatigue or the actual fact of you acknowledging but ignoring him, but his breathing got short and shaky and his tears started to roll. it was finally happening. that void feeling in his chest—in his heart—that place where special memories of you were kept, had finally drawn him in and suffocated him with the realization that you didn't want him anymore, didn’t need him anymore. you no longer needed jaehyun to bring you the pleasures of life. for all he knows now, you never really did.

likes and reblogs are appreciated :)

this work is property of me, 127rkives! no copying, reposting, translating, etc.!

[sluttywonwoo]

What are your thoughts on fwb!mingyu?😩

“i’m getting sexiled? again?”

mingyu scoffs at his roommate and puts his hands on his hips.

“you don’t have to leave! you just can’t be… here.” he gestures to the general living space, making wonwoo roll his eyes.

“unwelcome in my own home,” he mutters under his breath as he gets up from the couch to retreat to his room.

“come on, you know i can’t have you around when she gets here or you’ll say some dumb shit.”

wonwoo smirks. “like what? that you’re in love with her?”

“exactly. that’s exactly what i’m trying to avoid. so if you’d be so kind as to-”

“it’s the truth, though.”

there’s a knock on the door and both boys turn their heads toward it. mingyu shoots another glance at his best friend who holds his hands up in surrender. “i’m going, i’m going. remember to use protection.” then he shuts himself in his bedroom before mingyu can get another word in.

mingyu approaches the front door, takes a deep breath, and opens it, catching you as you spill into the room. you’d been leaning against it for god knows what reason but thankfully mingyu is very strong and gets you back on your feet with ease.

“what was that about?” he asks, gazing at you fondly.

the light is dim but you still notice the sparkle in his eyes as he looks at you…

“wanted to make an entrance,” is all you offer as explanation, pointedly not looking him in the eye.

“well you certainly did.”

“is wonwoo home?”

mingyu pouts. “am i not enough for you?”

you shove his chest and drop your bag on the bench that sits by the door. “no, dummy. i just want to know how quiet we have to be.”

“ohhh. well, yeah, he is home. sorry.” you shrug. “it’s not like he doesn’t know what you’re here to do, though.”

“sure but we shouldn’t be rude! it’s his apartment too, you know.”

his apartment that mingyu had all but kicked him out of two minutes ago.

“let’s go to your room,” you urge, “it’s already late.”

-

“fuck, baby,” mingyu groans as he watches you bounce on top of him. “you’re so wet…”

you whine quietly, nodding. “been thinking about this all week.”

“yeah? why didn’t you call earlier, then? could’ve been giving it to you every single day, pretty girl.”

you tighten up at the pet name, making mingyu smile.

“didn’t want to… seem needy.”

“from now on call whenever you want,” mingyu gasps. “any time. i’ll fuck you right, yeah?”

“gyu…”

“i mean it.”

mingyu knows he’s getting into dangerous territory here… but that’s how it always goes when he’s inside of you. you fall into bed together, he says some questionable things that neither of you acknowledge later, you both cum (you preferably over and over), and then you act a little weird and claim you need to get home. you’ve never spent the night, not once. mingyu wishes you would.

“you do?”

“yes, baby. i’ll give you this dick whenever you want it. just have to ask.”

“what if…” you sniffle, “what if i want it all the time? what if it’s never enough?”

“then you’ll get it all the time. it’s your dick anyway, baby.”

“fuck, i’m going to cum again!”

you’ve already came on mingyu’s face and his fingers, so it doesn’t surprise him that you’re already back on the edge.

“go ahead, i’ve got you,” mingyu whispers, rubbing soothing circles on your hips.

your eyes roll back as it hits you, fingernails digging into his shoulders. he helps you ride it out and then flips you onto your back. he’s close too, but he doesn’t want it to be over yet. he’s just not ready to let go of you for the night.

“still with me, pretty girl?”

you nod hazily, your cockdrunk grin plunging right into mingyu’s heart.

“good, because i’m not stopping until you beg me to.”

[aanxiousangel]

𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖋𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 { 𝕶𝖊𝖊𝖌𝖆𝖓 𝕻 𝕽𝖚𝖘𝖘 𝖝 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 }

🇦​​🇱​​🇱​ ​🇷​​🇮​​🇬​​🇭​​🇹​​🇸​ ​🇷​​🇪​​🇸​​🇪​​🇷​​🇻​​🇪​​🇩​ - ​🇮​ ​🇩​​🇴​ ​🇳​​🇴​​🇹​ ​🇦​​🇱​​🇱​​🇴​​🇼​ ​🇲​​🇾​ ​🇼​​🇴​​🇷​​🇰​ ​🇹​​🇴​ ​🇧​​🇪​ ​🇺​​🇸​​🇪​​🇩​ ​🇴​​🇷​ ​🇦​​🇩​​🇦​​🇵​​🇹​​🇪​​🇩​ ​🇮​​🇳​ ​🇦​​🇳​​🇾​ ​🇼​​🇦​​🇾​

notes: i just wanted to write my favorite ghosty boy again <3 send requests with whatever you'd like in my inbox <3

triggers: implied pining for years(?)

tags: implied smut, fluff?, friends to lovers, fwb to lovers?, pretty boy keegan <3

word count: 777

“So gorgeous, princess. My gorgeous girl, huh?”

His breath escaped him as his eyes trailed over your exposed body. Completely enamored as he took you in. In his mind, you were like a glass of water at three in the morning. You were the first cool breeze of Autumn. The cool sensation of the ocean under the Summer sun.

“How did I get this lucky, hm?”

Keegan’s voice caressed your senses. Chills slid across your entire body as you laid your head on the fluffy pillows. Your lips twitched with a soft smile, eyes heavy with comforting lust. It was too bad this was just a friends-with-benefits thing. It could’ve been so much more. Something beautiful.

Though, tonight was different. So much different. He was taking his time with you, not one inch of you left untouched. His fingers threaded through your hair carefully, admiring the way you leaned into his touch. Moving to carefully trace the outline of your face, he watched the way your eyes fluttered at the motion.

Not to mention how deliciously soft his lips were on yours. It wasn’t an aggressive, hungry kiss. It was slow and desperate as if he needed your kiss as replacement for his oxygen. Calculated, his tongue slipped past your lips as you gasped for a quick breath. Why’d you have to taste so heavenly?

The moment his tongue grazed yours elicited a soft moan from your throat. Keegan’s lips curled into a grin against yours. A low chuckle escaped him as he continued to kiss you and caress your cheeks. Gods, did he love pinching your cheeks, teasing you for how you looked when you were pouting. It makes you look like a bunny, princess, he would say.

“My beautiful girl…” Keegan breathlessly pulled away, saliva connecting your lips together.

You nodded carefully, panting softly as you kept your eyes on him. He’s never used possessive terms with you before. What was different? Why now after years of shoving your feelings under the rug?

“Keegan,” you breathed out.

“Mhm, princess?” Keegan’s breath tickled your jaw as he littered kisses along the soft skin.

“You’re different.”

His kisses halted as your words registered in his mind. Different? His mind started to race as he lifted his head. You thought he was different? What did he do? Different bad?

“How?” His voice cracked slightly as he whispered.

“You’re normally rough, fiery… Let alone calling me your girl.” Carefully, you cup his face and bring him closer, “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Keegan.”

“You don’t want to be my girl, Y/N?” His voice sent chills running all over your skin again.

“I’ve wanted that for years,” your voice was as delicate as a dandelion, throat choking up with an unreleased sob that would rack your entire being.

Keegan pressed a soft kiss to your lips, brows furrowed as he focused on pouring every emotion into it. His breath ghosted across your lips as he poured his heart out under the golden glow of the sun.

“I’ve craved every ounce of you since the moment I met you. The moment you set foot into the military base. Fuck, seeing you outside of work,” Keegan’s words were trickling between his gentle kisses. “I could never get enough of you.”

You didn’t even get a chance to say anything before he continued.

“My beautiful girl,” Keegan praised sweetly. “My favorite vice. I was willing to risk it all for you. Took any chance I could to work alongside you. Your intelligence turned me on. Couldn’t take my eyes off of you, princess. Couldn’t stop listening to you talk. Wasn’t fair to me, princess.”

His teeth gently tugged your earlobe.

“I had to make sure you noticed me. That you were impressed. I couldn’t wait until you noticed me, princess. Until I was completely sure you were mine.”

Here come the waterworks. You sniffled as you listened to his confession.

“Years, Keegan,” you whined, “you made me wait years! It’s not fair.”

You didn’t even blink before you were in his lap perfectly. One arm wrapped securely around your waist as the other wrapped around your back. Keegan watched your surprised expression as he looked at you.

“You were worth any wait. I’ll make up every last second,” Keegan kissed away your tears gently. “I couldn’t risk messing this up, Y/N. I promise it wasn’t meant to hurt you.”

“You’re stuck with me now, Keegan Russ,” you let out a choked laugh, wiping away your tears with your palms.

“I’ll superglue you to my side.” He teased, running a hand through your hair. “Now, let me please my girl, yeah?”

[catsoupki]

別戒，毒友 / come out and haunt me (aki hayakawa x reader)

Summary: everyone has their vices to forget a world of devil and man, but remember, when you quit, you quit forever.

Warnings: canon-typical violence (mentioned), smoking cuz duh it’s aki, angst !! they’re hinted to have somewhat of a relationship that never really flourished, so i guess treat them as fwb that could’ve been but never was :) have this while i fail my math midterms <3

wc: 820

It takes him a little over five seconds before he actually moves. Sitting up, stretching out his legs, heaving a breath. With the cigarette box still in hand, he leaves the balcony with what he’s got left in him and goes to greet whoever is ringing the doorbell.

“Heyo,” is what greets him when he opens the gate, laden— “missed me?” You invite yourself into his home, loafers toed off at the Genkan.

“Got any cigarettes?” He says while he turns around, dipping down to rummage through the drawers, and then the kotatsu, hoping he’d come across some more saviours.

“Say yes first.” Movement ceases, you’ve done it, you’re made it awkward. Look down, sigh, look back up, Aki is meeting you in the eye.

“Yes.”

One second passes and you reach into your pocket to snake a new packet into his hand— the flavour he likes, bought from the kombini he frequents— unfamiliarly and with a certain hesitance that makes you slow down before placing it on his open palm, slithering back onto the balcony.

An October night, the wind is crackling outside, his cigarette wavering in the chill, “Hayakawa-sensei, aren’t you cold?”

“No,” his pyjamas riffle violently where he stands next to the opened sliding glass door, “you’re not gonna come out?”

“I’m not so fond of the cold, sir,” Stepping across the boundary, your hair whips in your face anyway, squinting– “give me one too.”

“Since when did you start seriously smoking?” He asks, with hair in his eyes, he looks at you expectantly. You close your eyes.

“Since last time,” you smile at him, in the direction where you think he’s at, you don’t know that his eyes are flitting across your lips, your hair, he looks at you again. You.

“You should quit.” You open your eyes again.

“Mm.”

You were introduced to Aki two months ago, as was your habit of smoking. Makima had found you lying behind some alleyway bar, maimed. When Aki arrived at the scene, he could not differentiate between the way your blood spilled and the cracks of concrete beneath your corpse.

The culprit was killed by Denji afterwards, and you were hauled to the hospital soon. The day that you wake up, Makima greeted you, a simple “Hi”, before she asked the million-dollar question: are you willing to join my squad?

You wanted to say no, and perhaps she knew that, but you had no family left, not even the Shiba. Eyes glossy, hazy, maybe, you didn’t answer her. When she came back a day later with flowers in her hold, you said yes while looking at the floor.

You believe that you have little say in what truly happens around you, and the things that happen to you. Despite Makima always asking for your opinions on matters that concern you, you think that just like how you had said yes to her initial request by looking at the floor, the requests that leave Makima’s lips are laced with aphrodisiac, or perhaps it’s poison, you never find yourself saying no.

“Would you accompany Aki on this mission? I believe it’ll be a good learning opportunity for you.” Yes, because yes.

“Will you consider making a contract with this devil? It’ll be a good matchup when you go on missions with Denji and Aki.” Sure, why not.

It was August when your lips were first tainted by something. It was supposed to be smouldering these days, but that time, you find yourself travelling to Hokkaido with Aki.

He was familiar with the place, you could tell. Unlike the other times, he didn’t waste time fiddling with paper maps or asking the locals. With snow crunching under his footfalls, he walked knowing where his shoes would land next; forward.

The air had been extra cold when Aki gave you your first cigarette. Musk fills your lungs before you heave and cough all that you inhaled. Aki laughs at you.

You should quit. Yes— quit smoking, quit saying yes, quit abusing devils, quit looking at the ground when Makima talks to you. You should quit before you die.

“I’ll quit when you do.” Stubbornness is all that you know, Aki knows. He sighs instead.

“Why’re you here?”

Aki is polite. He has a habit of looking at people with proper etiquette in conversation, something that you lack. The dimming skyline, nebulous clouds. “I’m leaving tomorrow! I finally got my solo mission after two months, Nara. I’m eating so much food there.”

Maybe it’s the wind, or maybe it’s you, perhaps it’s him, but you don’t say much. He doesn’t say much either. It’s the wind whipping your hair— yeah.

He glances at you, with smoke filling his lungs, drowning in you, he says, “Be careful.”

You leave soon after, forgetting that you had a reunion with a few friends. You leave behind the cigarettes.

You quit. Aki never got to return them.

tag list: @hatsukeii @staraxiaa hahahah a two ppl tag list is comical

[shotmrmiller]

fwb! ghost brainrot ive officially decided its gotta turn into ghoap x reader or im gonna eat my flextape. hopefully i can connect this one to the first one. team fix your plotholes or else, perra.

Fwb! Simon who just turned exclusive doesn’t want anyone to know about the two of you. Can’t say it doesn’t sting but as he said, you asked for a fuck, not a boyfriend. You understand because you aren’t sure Johnny would take too kindly to his best friend being disrespected in bed by someone he knows is a bonafide manwhore. 

So when Johnny pulls a pretty woman at the bar y'all are in, he also brings her friend for Simon, and that makes you prickle with jealousy. With a huff, you turn to face the crowd— away from the bitch putting her manicured hands on Simon. You’d like to believe that he is reciprocating her attention because if he doesn’t, Johnny would find it suspicious. But the way he wraps his arm around her waist, flirting back so effortlessly, reminds you of his ways. Of how he is.

Simon isn’t stupid. He wasn’t a part of the elite force Johnny’s in only because of his brawn. He was also brain. And that infuriates you. Talking to Simon is like dealing with a fucking genie.  Better be specific to the minute detail or anything that’s left to assumption is free game. 

Grabbing Johnny’s forearm to get his attention, he doesn’t look at you— too busy sweet-talking his next conquest, so you dig your nails into his skin. You see him wince and pull away roughly to sneer at the offender, but then his features smooth out instantly, once he realizes it’s you. Ice-blue eyes slightly unfocused from the alcohol in his system, yet it feels like all he can see is you. His reaction makes your heart skip a beat, how quickly he ignores everything around him— puts everything on the backburner if you need something from him. You can't help the pleased smile that curls your lips at the realization.

“Hey, Johnny boy. I’ma go pay the tab,” and then you flick your eyes to the woman, “ do not leave without me.” 

“Dinnae worry, hen, as if I’d ever leave ye anywhere.” Your smile turns gloriously smug when you see the woman look at you in undisguised contempt. Blessed be Johnny, always in your corner. With another squeeze to his forearm, you chuckle when you hear a “Claws in, kitten!” and move to get up when you notice Simon no longer flirting with miss thing, but intently looking at Johnny’s forearm, which still has the half-moon marks of your nails on it. His gaze then snaps to yours, with an almost knowing glint behind them.

You roll your eyes and briskly walk to the bartender, flagging him down. When the bartender gives you the receipt to sign, a voice asks if he can buy you a drink. Sighing, you turn around to tell whoever that you aren’t interested.

“Incredibly generous, but—” and freeze. “Long time no see, eh?” 

It’s your ex. You ended things amicably enough— surprising, for him having been your first boyfriend, first everything, really.  Y’all just outgrew each other emotionally. Hugging him, you exclaim, “Jesus Christ, how’ve you been! It’s been far too long. What’re you doin’ here?” 

He responds, “I was just in town and figured I could get a drink, maybe some company,” you don’t miss the implication of that, but choose to ignore it. 

“How’s that goin’ for ya?”, and then he reaches out to grab your wrist and runs his thumb over your knuckles. “I’ve got you now, don’t I? You look fantastic.” You’re about to let him down lightly when your hand is snatched out of his, and you’re forcibly pulled against someone, strong arm over your shoulders. 

“Whatever ye wan’ with her, the answer is naw. ” Johnny. You smother the slight pang of disappointment in your chest, how silly of you to think it could’ve been Simon. 

“Forever the guard dog, eh, John?” and Johnny’s arm tightens almost painfully and snarls.

“Still around, are ye? Just like a roach, boy.” Johnny and your ex never got along— always a pissing contest.  You have an inkling that it’s because of how close you two were and still are.

Your ex scoffs loudly at him, then looks at you. “It’s your choice, unless you’ve got a boyfriend?” and you shake your head. Johnny pulls you to stand in front of him, both arms holding you close.

“She doesnae. No one’s good enough fer her. Including ye.” 

Sucking your teeth, you sink your nails into Johnny’s forearm, again. “I think that’s for me to decide, no?” and pull at his arms to release you. “You’ve got some nerve, Johnny, bringing me here just to watch you and Ghost—” when you’re roughly pulled to the side,  held down by a much larger body. Simon. Your heart hammers in your chest. How long has he been standing here?

He lowers his mouth to your ear and sternly says, “Behave, pet. The sergeant said no. End of story.” 

When he uses that voice, all you can do is obey. 

“And who’re you?” You can feel Simon stand to his full height, broad shoulders straightening, posturing. Even slouched, he towered over your ex but standing like this, exuding strength and authority, it’s almost comical how large of a difference there is between them two— especially with you in his arms.

“I’m guard dog number two,” and your ex pales slightly. “I’d fuck off,” and Simon points towards the exit with his head, “Now.” He stiffens for a second, eyes bouncing between Johnny and Simon, and bolted—like prey after detecting predators. Not even a goodbye. You don't know if to applaud his sense of self-preservation or curse his cowardice. 

Johnny grabs your hand and leads you out the door, slinging his arm over you as y’all walk towards his home.

“Yer not mad, are ye?” and you keep quiet, he has always hated the silent treatment. “Bonnie—” and Simon cuts him off. 

“Who was that?” and Johnny looks back to answer. “Her ex-boyfriend. Very first one, wasn’t he, hen?” You dig your elbow into his ribcage and hiss out, “Johnny, you dolt! There is no need for you to be sharing that!” 

He laughs and brings your head in to kiss your temple. “I’m jus’ sayin’! Hen, no one out here is worth yer time. Ye cannae be mad at me for speakin’ the truth.” Exhaling, you curl your arm around his waist, going under his shirt to squeeze his waist. 

“Yeah, yeah. Guess I’ll just have to fill the void with you,” and Johnny swiftly continues your sentence. “And Ghost.” 

Absentmindedly, you nod. “And Ghost.” 

-

Had you been paying attention, you would’ve seen the way he and Ghost shared a calculated look before Johnny pressed another kiss a little closer to your mouth.

[honeyedmiller]

Law of Attraction—Chapter Four: Moth to A Flame

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rating: 18+, minors dni.

warnings: professor!joel, age gap (reader is late 20’s, Joel mid 40’s), no outbreak!joel, plus size!reader, consensual professor / student relations, so much fucking angst, lots and lots of emotions, talks of the struggles of being plus sized, smut (f oral receiving, unprotected piv), arguing, crying, mentions of a terrible past relationship, this chapter is just literal heartbreak. no description of reader other than being plus sized. mood board is for aesthetic purposes only.

word count: 4.7k

a/n: i gotta say, this chapter is kinda self indulgent. had a fwb for two whole years that literally made me go crazy emotionally and I finally willingly ended it this year… so a lot of this is kinda how i felt during my experience w this. also, huge shoutout to @party-hearses for literally holding my hand through this every step of the way. idk what i’d do without you, dude. love you to pieces.

chapter synopsis: there’s only so much you can do as your feelings for joel bubble to the surface.

-

It’d been around a month since Joel made you the offer. 

The offer that made your stomach twist into knots every time you thought about it too much. 

You’d pretended everything was fine and that you were okay with the whole ordeal, when in reality, you felt sick every time it crossed your mind. 

You could’ve easily just told Joel you didn’t want to go through with it anymore. You knew that. 

But something in your heart was tugging and pulling and hoping and fucking wishing he’d change his mind, say fuck the whole friends with benefits thing and just want to be with you. 

You could’ve told him no more, but with the way he looked at you like you were the only woman in the world when you were completely vulnerable with him, slotting himself between your legs, pushing into you, an adoring stare with every drag of himself in and out of you—how could you confront him? How could you lose the one thing you had hoped for? 

It sounded pathetic. Maybe it was. 

There was no denying it anymore, though. You’d fallen hard for the very man that swept you off your feet. But, that’s also the problem—what goes up, must always come down. Your emotions were everywhere, and it wouldn’t be long before you knew you’d start spiraling. 

You didn’t want to tell Adrienne how you felt, and it’s not because she’d ever tell you I told you so. No, it was more so the fact that you were too prideful and you didn’t want to show her how vulnerable this has made you—how vulnerable he’d made you. 

This is not the woman you used to be. 

Maybe there’s something sweet in being soft and allowing yourself to succumb to someone’s desires for you, but not like this. Not to you. You wanted Joel in a way you’re sure he could never accept, and that broke your heart into a million pieces. 

To, dare you say, love someone who will never feel the same way was the most gut wrenching, grueling feeling. 

You had to tuck away those feelings in a box that you’d shove under your bed and forget about, though, because graduation was coming up in just two days. 

Your last finals were today, and despite your mess of emotions and feelings, you were excited to finally graduate. You were proud of yourself for sticking to your goals. 

You stared up at the dress you got for graduation, now hanging up on your closet with your regalia. Finding a dress was so much harder than you anticipated, and it made the whole shopping experience miserable. 

The only thing that kept you going during that whole try-on process was Joel’s words replaying in your head about how beautiful you were and how much he adored your curves. 

While it was nice that he thought that of you, you became disappointed in yourself for allowing yourself to thrive off of his validation. You’d spent so long trying to build your confidence from the ground up to where you didn’t need validation from others to feel beautiful. You were never reliant on anyone to make you feel secure within yourself, and you sure as hell didn’t want to start now. 

The drive to school was silent. Soft tunes of a Fleetwood Mac song played over your car speakers as you mindlessly drove to campus. Your first final was in Professor Sanchez’s class, and your last one was in Joel’s. You weren’t particularly looking forward to seeing him today. 

You’d been feeling like shit about the whole situation since you both last fucked, which was a couple of days prior at his house. Instead of fucking in his office like usual, he’d invited you over for a drink, following up with mind-blowing sex in his king-sized bed. 

You were surprised at first, thinking you’d never see inside the four walls of his sanctuary. It was a lot more homey than you’d anticipated it would be. Lots of family photos on the walls; cozy, worn-in furniture decorated the space in a way that flowed well; big stacks of books and a huge collection of DVDs that surrounded his TV. His neatly made bed was centered in his room, adorned by the ample amounts of the May sun that’d shone through his windows. 

You only got to look around his bedroom for a few seconds before his lips were on yours, hands roaming your curves as he undressed you in record time. After he’d fucked you well, he pulled you into his side and caressed your body in a soothing, comforting way. 

The sex part of it all wasn’t the complicated thing. No, it was the way he fucking looked at you after you both were catching your breaths, fucked-out, dopey smiles on your faces as you stared at each other. He looked at you with such sincerity and gentleness. There was a passion behind his eyes that sparked every time his eyes scanned your features. 

A wanting desire. A carnal need far beyond something that was just friends with benefits. You saw it in his eyes. 

This is why you were so back-and-forth with your emotions toward him and this whole situation. It was your way of justifying why you should stay and give this a chance. There was just that little sliver of hope, and that hope is what you clung on to as if your life depended on it. That hope was the only thing keeping you from completely breaking down. 

You found yourself aimlessly walking into Professor Sanchez’s class. Everything was a blur. Taking your seat, receiving instructions for your final exam, taking said final exam. It was you simply going through the motions, barely even registering that you’d never step foot into his classroom again. 

You had a twenty minute gap between Professor Sanchez’s class and Joel’s. You knew you should at least fuel your brain with a small snack before going into his class, but your stomach was in knots again. 

Agreeing to be friends with benefits with Joel was a bad idea. You knew it, Adrienne knew it, and hell, even Joel knew it. 

You knew you’d be the one to catch feelings and want more. You hated it. It sucked the fucking life out of you, leaving you a crying mess every night before you fell asleep. 

You were so emotionally and mentally exhausted. You felt foolish for thinking even just for a second that you’d be able to change Joel’s mind about your relationship—if you want to even fucking call it that—with him. 

You kept your head down when you entered Joel’s classroom. You were a couple of minutes early, but luckily, there were a few other students already seated. You felt Joel’s eyes burning holes into your head, and you shifted in your seat uncomfortably. 

Please, for the love of god, stop staring at me.

That’s all that was racing through your mind. You felt your phone buzz, and when you saw Joel’s name on the screen, the knot moved from your stomach to your throat. You felt like you could barely breathe. You just wanted to take your final and get the fuck out of his classroom and away from him. 

But then, realization dawned on you. He had no fucking idea how you felt, so you being so stand-offish toward him would only raise suspicion. 

You looked at his text. 

Everything alright?

You sigh and type back, trying so hard to swallow the goddamn knot in your throat that won’t seem to go away. 

Everything’s fine. 

Not even a minute later, your phone buzzed again. 

Stay after class for a bit.

You wanted to scoff at his text. Sex was not going to fix how you felt. In fact, it would make things even worse. 

Can’t. Going out with Adrienne tonight. 

You couldn’t help but glance up at Joel, who was looking confusedly down at his phone. He sighed and set his phone down on his desk, chair scraping against the floor as he stood up. He went over the final and the rules, distributing the tests shortly after. 

One thing you were grateful for in that moment was your ability to zero in on the test, feelings for Joel and his lingering stare set aside. You’ve come way too far and studied too hard to get distracted now. 

You were one of the first few to finish, turning in your test onto his desk. He nearly reached out to grab your wrist to stop you from leaving. He’d seemed to have forgotten where you two were at the moment. 

You gave him a warning glance as you slipped your hand abruptly back to your side. He played it off like he was reaching to grab the small stack of finished exams, eyes clouded with confusion as he looked up at you. 

You mumbled a thanks, Professor Miller before walking out of his class, thankful to never have to step foot in there again. 

-

You mindlessly swirled the amber liquor around the glass cup you were sipping out of. You truthfully didn’t feel like going out tonight, but Adrienne wanted to celebrate you finally finishing all of your coursework. 

She wanted to stay by your side, but a cute man had come up to her and asked her to dance with him. You insisted she go, because you truthfully didn’t want to suck her cheerful mood into your misery. 

You downed the rest of your drink and pushed yourself off of the barstool, needing to get out of the thick haze of smoke the bar was currently bathed in. You sent Adrienne a quick text telling her you were getting a breather just in case she came looking for you at the bar. 

You rounded the corner of the bar and pressed your back against the cold wall, sending a chill down your spine. The mid-temp air swirled around your body, filling your lungs with gratitude for not having to breathe in machine fog for another second. 

You watched as people passed by, laughing and carefree as they stumbled down the sidewalk with arms interlocked or shoving their friends playfully while boisterously laughing at a joke someone said. 

You sighed as you felt tears stinging your eyes, wishing so badly you were able to feel their happiness in that moment. You felt like you couldn’t get your fucking emotions together for the life of you. Your pre-Joel self was dying to come out and feel an ounce of happiness again. 

It’s like you were trying to constantly set a candle aflame, and he’d blow it out. Over, and over, and over again. A constant cycle that never ended. A moth drawn to a flame that ended up getting burned in the end because it couldn’t keep its yearning and curiosity and desire to itself. 

It killed you inside knowing that you let this affect you so much. The part of you that screamed that you didn’t need Joel’s validation to feel seen and beautiful was being easily overpowered by the feeling that his validation was everything you need to thrive off of. 

Being a plus sized girl most of your life came with many struggles—many of which you’ve overcome, but some still lingered like an annoying fucking cough not even medicine could get rid of. You’ve been told you’d never be the beauty standard, or that you’d look better if you were thinner, or you should work out and eat healthier because the way you looked seemed unhealthy. 

You’d crumpled up those nasty words and stomped on them anyway, because at the end of the day, the people making those comments didn’t know a single goddamn thing about you or your life. You were just a random girl in their story; one whose presence had an affect on them so much so that they felt the need to make comments about your appearance. 

But none of their fucking words mattered.

What mattered to you was that you’d spent years building up your confidence and self-love to get yourself in a good headspace about your appearance, finally in tune with your body and loving that it gave you life. 

But, because of those mean words and terrible past dating antics, you’d built a wall up around yourself to protect yourself and your heart from getting hurt again. Allowing Joel to experience the vulnerability you kept locked away felt like a fucking punch of air out of your lungs. 

Because, why the fuck would he not want to be in a relationship with you? Why would he offer to be friends with benefits when he was in his mid fucking forties? Were you not good enough? Was it because of the age difference? 

You’ve tried to think of every possibility there might’ve been to conclude why Joel just simply didn’t want you like you wanted him, but you were drawing a blank. 

You wiped the salty tears that streamed pathetically down your face, straightening up before taking a deep breath, walking back into the bar to order as many drinks as it took to simply just fucking forget. 

-

The buzz and excitement for graduation shortly followed just two days after.  

But, just like most things these days, it went by in a blur. It felt so liberating to walk across that stage; to have done something for yourself—something that was all yours. Your moment. Your success. Your absolute fucking willpower to see this through to the very end. You finally had your masters in criminal law. 

Your mom and dad were proud of you. Your siblings were proud of you. 

You were proud of yourself. 

It’s a feeling that’d been foreign to you these days, hiding in the shadows of the carnal desire for something more with Joel. 

You were never one to ask for much, but with him, all you could seem to want is more more more. 

Was it greedy of you to want more than just a good fuck?

Maybe to him, it was. 

The buzz quickly wore off with that thought constantly in the back of your mind, replaying like an old scratched record that was stuck on a song that could never seem to make it to the crescendo. 

You found yourself in your favorite coffee shop just a few days after graduation, desperately applying to any jobs that were hiring a freshly graduated criminal law student. 

Fixated too much on the screen of your laptop before you, you barely even paid any mind to the familiar person standing right across from you. It’s only when they cleared their throat that you looked up, surprise written over your features as you see Tess standing before you. 

“Tess! What a lovely surprise.” You greet, the first genuine smile stretching over your lips in almost a week. 

“Hi, sweetheart. Mind if I sit and keep you company?” Her voice is honeyed and kind, a hopeful glint flashing through her green eyes as she looks down at you. 

“Not at all.” You gesture to the chair across from you, and she takes a seat. 

“So I hear congratulations are in order.” She folds her hands around the perimeter of her coffee cup and purses her lips. 

You grin and wave her off playfully. “Masters shmasters. No biggie.” You shrug, and she laughs at your nonchalance. 

“Nonsense, darling girl, that’s a huge deal.” 

You give her a small thank you in gratitude, closing your laptop so you could put your undivided attention on her. She nods her head toward your computer, eyebrows threading together. 

“You applying for jobs?” 

“Mhm. To just about every position I can find that I’m qualified for.” You take a sip of your iced coffee, wishing the espresso was just a tad stronger. 

“Which field are you wanting to go into?” 

“I was leaning more toward forensics.” And Tess quirks her brow at that. 

“Y’know, I could get you in with the bureau. Misty and I know lots of people in forensics, and they’re always looking for people to join their division.” 

“Oh, Tess – I – I couldn’t possibly – you’re Joel’s best friend and I’d feel awful–” You were stammering your words left and right, trying to find footing in what you wanted to say, but nothing seemed right. 

She reached a warm hand out and clasped it over yours, immediately making your mouth clamp shut. You were honored that she’d even put in a good word for you, but she barely knew you. She’s Joel���s best friend. 

“Sweetheart, this isn’t about Joel. This is about you and your future.” 

She was right. Just because she was Joel’s best friend, didn’t mean her offering to put in a good word for you had jack shit to do with him. You were the one who worked hard to get to where you are, and hell, there was absolutely no harm in networking. That was what the criminal justice expo was all about a month back anyhow. 

“Speaking of Joel,” She softly murmured, almost seemingly hesitant to ask. “Not to pry, but are you still, you know, seeing him?” 

You felt your body heat up at her question, gaze averting to your iced coffee. You were suddenly transfixed on the sweat around the plastic cup, leaving its wake of water rings on the wooden table. 

“Um, yeah. I haven’t talked to him much recently, though.” 

It was true. You didn’t know how to face your feelings head-on for Joel. It was like a fucking beast in the wilderness that wanted – no, needed – to hunt you down and eat you alive. 

And so you ran. 

You ran without looking back, avoiding the devastating feeling at all costs. 

“God, that man is such an idiot.” Tess mumbled under her breath, but the coffee shop was quiet enough to hear her words of disdain. 

“Why do you say that?” 

Tess’s eyes bore into yours, her hand reaching back out to yours to give it a squeeze – a warning. 

“I’m gonna be truthful here with you, sweetheart, because you’re a good person and you deserve so much better.” 

You nod your head in the slightest, willing her to continue. 

“You see–” She pauses, trying to conjure up the right words she wants to say. “Joel’s a good person. He really is. Is he an idiot for asking you to be friends with benefits? Absolutely. Fucker’s too old for that shit.”

Tess rolls her eyes, and you chuckle softly at her small rant. 

“But, truth be told, he has trust issues. He has a fear of getting hurt. He keeps his guard up because he knows that as soon as he lets it down, someone can walk into his life and worm their way into his heart. I think–”

She pauses, shaking her head subtly before sighing. “I think he’s afraid of falling again because of his last relationship. It didn’t end well. Left him heartbroken for nearly a year after that stupid bitch was caught with another man in their bed.” 

You sat back, trying to process the information spewed at you. 

It all makes so much fucking sense now. 

“Christine is the reason for all this. If I could wring that bitch’s neck I would.” 

“That bad, huh?” You ask. 

Tess purses her lips and shakes her head. 

“You have no idea. Joel was a mess. He wasn’t like himself – far off from the best friend I love and know. It was like he was a marionette and her cruel actions were the ones controlling his every move.” 

And suddenly you felt so bad. You felt bad for being angry with Joel, but you know you shouldn’t feel bad. 

You agreed to his offer, yes, but he was using you solely for the intimacy to fill a void in his life – that carnal need that tried to claw to the surface. The very void he was afraid would swallow him whole if he didn’t get his fix of you. The thing you saw in his eyes after every time you two fucked. 

The very thing that felt like it was eating you alive. 

You huff out a laugh through your nose, shaking your head with a sardonic smile across your lips. 

“Sometimes I feel like I’m the marionette and Joel is the puppeteer.” You tap your nails on the table as a nervous habit, and Tess’s hands cover yours. 

Her eyes held sympathy as she looked at you, probably because she’d chewed Joel out for the very thing that was making you fall apart at the seams. 

“Well then, sweetheart, maybe it’s time you cut the strings.” 

-

You carded your fingers through Joel’s graying hair as you tugged, moaning his name in desperation. His head was buried between your thighs, making your mind fuzzy and forgetful of everything you’ve been going through mentally the past month. 

His skillful tongue catapulted you into your release, crumbling down as your thighs shook and your whine adorned the walls of your bedroom. 

He trailed soft kisses up your thighs, fingers indenting into your flesh as he gripped onto you. The drag of his stubble against your skin sets it ablaze, making your eyes flutter open and look down at him. 

His soft brown eyes met yours, something behind them you couldn’t exactly read. It was quickly masked with a cocky smirk stretching onto his plush lips, maneuvering upward so he was hovering over you. He moved down to kiss you hungrily, cupping your cheek gently before dipping his tongue into your mouth. 

You could taste yourself, moaning against him as your hands glide down to his hips. The taut muscles of his thighs flexed underneath your fingertips as you pulled him closer, wanting to feel his bare chest on yours. 

You couldn’t blame him for wanting the intimacy, because hell, it made you feel like you were floating on cloud nine. 

It was addicting. Almost fulfilling. You wanted more. More of him, more of his beautiful mind, more of the sweet moments of the real Joel you got to see behind his unyielding exterior. 

You wanted it all with him, and yet, he wanted none of it with you. 

It fucking stung. 

Maybe you were as naïve as you thought, way too over your head with this. 

Joel pulled apart from you, gaze meeting yours as he softly smiled. 

“You ready for me, darlin’?” His voice is soft, pulling you from your rather brooding thoughts. 

You nod, giving him the go-ahead. He collects the slick that’s smeared through your folds, lining himself up with your entrance. He pushes into you slowly, and he chokes on a gasp from how tight you are. He suddenly realizes you’re tense, so he cradles your head before looking down at you. 

“Y’gotta relax for me, honey.” He coos. 

Honey. That’s a new one. 

He moves up to leave a soft kiss on your forehead. You don’t know why, but the action makes you want to cry. You try to ignore it as he presses into you, praising into your ear about how much of a good girl you are for him. 

You’re completely enveloped in everything Joel, the feeling of the drag of his heavy cock in and out of you searing itself into your mind. Your mind was swirling with all sorts of emotions again, and for the sake of your own sanity, you wish it would just fucking stop. You wish your mind could stray away from feeling everything all at once. 

Joel felt good. He felt safe. He was broad and strong and handsome and generally kind – everything you want in a man. 

His lips moved down to your neck, kissing the soft flesh generously. He managed to find your pulse point easily, causing you to elicit a breathy moan into his ear. You felt his smile on your neck as he began to suck on that spot that drove you crazy, and you gasped.

“Joel, you’re gonna leave–fuck, you’re gonna leave a mark.” 

“You’re mine.”

Stop fucking saying that. 

You’re not, and he made that very clear when he offered to just be friends with benefits. 

Joel picked up his pace, and as much as your mind was distracted, it felt too good. You were nearing your end in a haste, and Joel followed right after you. He was out of breath as he pulled out and collapsed next to you, eyes screwed shut as he tossed his forearm over his eyes. 

You got up to go to the bathroom so you could clean yourself up and use the restroom. You came back out, slipped your oversized t-shirt over your head and sat next to Joel’s limp body. You couldn’t hold it in anymore, tear after tear falling down your cheeks. 

“I’m not her, you know.” Your voice came out shaky, but it got Joel’s attention. 

“Who–?”

“Christine.” The name rolled off your tongue with a surprising bitterness. Joel moved his arm down and looked at you with furrowed brows and a dark stare.

 Anger flashed across his eyes. The muscle in his jaw was ticking rapidly, completely irate. 

“How the fuck do you know about her?” He spits, moving to stand up hastily. He puts his boxers back on, followed by his shorts. 

“Does it fucking matter? I’m just telling you, Joel, I’m nothing like her. I wouldn’t fuck somebody else in the same bed we’d share. I don’t understand why you don’t want to be with me.”

“Don’t fucking talk about her again to me, ever. Not another fucking word.” He was avoiding your last words, a pang in his heart for what he felt for you, but he was seething. He hated that you knew the reason why he was so fucked up when it came to relationships. It felt like you had the upper hand, and he didn’t like it one bit. 

You laugh and shake your head, tears continuing to wet your cheeks. 

“You’ve made me feel more things for you in this past month than I have for any other  person in my life…probably ever, Joel. What’s so bad about us being together?” You press again, because fuck, you really wanted an answer. 

He ran a hand over his face, shaking his head. “Be fucking realistic here. It would never work out between us. You’re my student–”

“Was.” You interrupt. 

“Was my student. But you’re too young. You don’t have your priorities straight, you’re freshly graduated. You’re too… inexperienced.” He tosses his shirt over his head and crosses his arms, the thin material stretching over his broad, tense shoulders. 

“That’s genuinely just rich coming from you, Joel. You didn’t seem to have a problem with my age when you bent me over your desk, or fucked me in the hotel room, or your room, or ten fucking minutes ago. I’m nearly thirty, so don’t spew that bullshit about my age. You’re also really one to talk about me having my priorities straight,” You step around your bed to face him. “You’re in your mid forties and you wanted to be in a friends with benefits relationship, Joel. You’ve called me yours so many times, look at me like you feel something for me, and then expect me to go about as normal? What the fuck is that?”

He pauses for two seconds, nearly blacked-out irises staring into your own glossy and tired gaze. 

“It’s not my fault I didn’t live up to the expectations of myself that you created in your head.” 

You purse your lips into a thin line, taking a step back from him. He was right, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. 

“I–I can’t fucking do this anymore with you, Joel. Please get out of my apartment.”

“So that’s it?” He tosses his hands up, looking at you in disbelief. He looked almost, dare you say, disappointed. 

“Get out.” You whisper, more tears adorning your cheeks. He scoffs and brushes past you, letting himself out of your apartment with a slightly more forceful closing of the front door. You didn’t care how dramatic you might’ve been in this moment, but you sank to your knees and buried your face in your hands.

You cried and cried and cried, the pain in your heart something you’ve never quite felt before. 

You wished nothing more in that moment than to be able to reverse time and make sure not to give in to temptation, because holy hell, she was the fucking devil. 

The constant hurt in your heart was a reminder that this was very real, it happened, and you were stuck with the cruel aftermath of it all.

But, Tess was ultimately right. 

You were Joel’s marionette no more. 

-

tag list: @ilovepedro ; @nostalxgic ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @cool-iguana ; @untamedheart81 ; @nclgsticore ; @pamasaur

[sergeantxrogers]

| something that we’re not |

Summary: Just don’t fall in love. That was the only rule. It was literally the only rule, and it was already broken. 

Pairing: fwb!Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: Angst, swearing, alcohol consumption (if you don’t drink just pretend it’s juice xx), kissing, yearning, fluff at the end

Note: heyy y’all... i know it’s been a while and i also know i have a shit ton of unfinished stuff and a couple requests but this idea popped into my head like two days ago and i was gonna explode if i didn’t write it since i’m basically going through the same thing (just without the fluffy ending yet) i’ve been very very busy with college and studying and life in general, i miss you all like crazy tho, i hope you enjoy this :)

_______________

“So, I guess our best option would be moving to Quantico?”

“Do we really wanna be associated with the FBI, though?”

“Well, I just thought-”

“We need to look at more options.”

Your eyes bounced back and forth across the board room, landing on Sam, then Torres, then Fury. You tried staying focused, you really did. 

But it was proving difficult with Bucky’s eyes searing into the side of your face, making you acutely aware of every movement you made and every breath you took. You shifted in your chair, eyes flickering towards him, and you saw his jaw clench with his lips pulled back in a subtle smirk. He moved his gaze away from you, instead opting to watch Fury as he spoke about... whatever he was speaking about. Something about finding new headquarters, or working out of multiple areas. Sam would give you the run-down later.

Bucky’s eyes would be the death of you. 

You spent the remaining half hour of the meeting avoiding them altogether, biting your tongue and trying to keep your foot still and your breathing even. 

“Y/N,” Fury’s voice boomed, and you jolted slightly.

All eyes turned to you.

“Any thoughts? You seem quiet today,” Fury observed, head tilted slightly. 

You shook your head. “No, I just- No. Nothing to add, sir. I’m okay.”

You gave him an awkward smile as he stared at you a bit longer. Eventually, he decided he had grilled you enough, and called the meeting to an end. 

You let out a long, quiet sigh, and turned your chair to face the glass table in front of you, papers and files askew and messy. You cleared your throat as your eyes followed everyone through the door as they left, dragging your hands slowly as you collected your papers. Sam left first, dropping a heavy hand on your shoulder as he went by. Torres went next, giving you a boyish smile, and Fury left after him without a word. 

Your fingers tingled as you slammed your binder shut, trying to keep your smile at bay. You refused to look up, because you knew if you did, you’d be met with those eyes that got you to do anything they wanted. 

“Problem?”

You shook your head nonchalantly, keeping your eyes glued to the plastic cover of your binder. “Not on my side. You could’ve tried being a bit more subtle with the staring, though.”

You heard him chuckle, and finally, you lifted your gaze to rest on him. A mischievous smile rested on his lips, his tongue dragging across his bottom teeth as he stared at you, slowly making his way around the table. 

You stared back, unwilling to let him know how fazed you truly were with his proximity, even though it felt like your skin was on fire, a heavy, slow beat thundering in your ears and through your veins, travelling it’s course throughout your body and finding home deep in your core. You shifted your hips slightly. Bucky noticed. 

He stopped walking only when he was a foot away from you. You swore if he was half an inch closer you would’ve fell to your knees in front of him, his gravitational pull too strong to avoid. 

He was the sun, bright, burning, and energetic, and you were the singular, lone planet orbiting him, never able to pull away far enough to forget him, but never close enough to really, truly, have him. You just went in circles around him, over and over again, day in, day out, and he watched you and laughed. At least, that was what it felt like sometimes.

Bucky studied your eyes, gaze dropping to your lips, before lifting to meet your eyes again. Your chest rose and fell unsteadily no matter how much you tried to keep it in check. 

“Come over tonight?” he whispered, eyes drinking in the way your pupils dilated at the sound of his voice. 

You felt a tinge of sadness, buried somewhere deep inside your heart; a place you had closed off and locked up for good a long time ago in order to keep from breaking altogether. You kicked it down, swatting it away like an annoying fly before Bucky began to notice your hesitation.

“Okay,” you said softly, nodding. The smile on his face was almost worth the pain that singular word stabbed you with. 

__________

One Year Earlier

You set the extra beers on the table with a soft grunt. Sarah turned, almost poking you with the barbeque fork in her hand, and gave you a grateful smile. 

“You’re a sweetheart, Y/N,” she cooed, and you brushed her off with a wave of your hand, despite the blush on your cheeks. 

“No biggie, you know I’m always down to help.”

Sarah leaned over the table, abandoning the grill for a second to place a kiss on your forehead. “You can go now, have some fun.”

You smiled and turned to walk away before she grabbed your wrist.

“Take one, honey,” Sarah said, pointing to the beers in front of you. “You’re a guest, too, ya know.”

You hummed with a happy smile before pulling out a beer from the package, then pausing. Before your judgment got the better of you, you pulled out another one, cold against your fingers as the droplets of condensation rolled over them.

“See ya, Sar!” you called out over your shoulder, and she waved the fork over her head in goodbye.

You weaved through the sparse crowd of people, saying hi to a few and smiling at some others. Sam was nowhere to be found, but you figured he was the one responsible for the children screaming with laughter somewhere near the end of the dock, so you decided you would look for him later. The water splashed gently against the wooden dock, the sound of the waves bringing you a sense of peace as you squinted behind your sunglasses against the sunset and looked for Bucky.

Finally, you saw a figure, dark and shoulders wide against the orange expanse of the sky, sitting on the hard top above the helm of Sam and Sarah’s boat. His feet were hanging over the glass windows, and you knew Sam would throw a fit if he saw him dirtying the glass with his shoes.

You smiled to yourself before gathering the courage to clamber onto the boat, holding on to the two beers for dear life as you did so. 

“That you, dolly?” he called down, and you rolled your eyes with a smile. 

“Who else would it be, dumbass,” you replied, holding up the beers and letting him take them before you grabbed onto the small ladder and hauled yourself up. 

He scooted to the side, making room for you as you sat down beside him with a huff. 

Bucky had opened the beers with his hand as you were climbing up, so you took one from him with a soft ‘thanks’, pushing your glasses up onto your head.

The two of you sipped in silence for a couple of minutes, your eyes scanning the open water, sparkling in the red and pink hues of the setting sun. It wasn’t as hot here, near the water, as it was back on the dock with the people and the food and the laughter. Everything seemed quieter, behind you, in another world. The boat back and forth softly. 

“What gave you this idea?” you asked, breaking the silence. 

Bucky was silent for a moment, tapping a finger against the glass of his beer, before shrugging and turning to look at you, squinting an eye against the sun. 

“It’s peaceful,” he said, and you nodded. 

You held your own beer between your legs and leaned back to rest on the palms of your hands. “You feelin’ okay, Buck?”

He took in a deep breath as he looked out ahead, staring at the water before just nodding his head. 

“Yeah,” he said after a moment. “Yeah, I’m good, actually. I just needed a moment to clear my head. Nothing bad, just... I’m grateful, is all.”

“Grateful for having such amazing best friends like Sam and me? Or grateful for being able to open beer without an opener? Or maybe grateful for Sarah’s world-famous barbeque chicken?” you teased, and he snorted a laugh, shaking his head.

He turned to look at you and shrugged. “All of it, I guess.”

He had said it so softly, and so truthfully, that your first reflex was to sit up straight, bringing yourself closer to him. You brought a leg up and folded it underneath the other one, left hanging beside his, so you were turned to face him completely. Your beer was left getting warmer in your lap, but you didn’t mind, because the way Bucky was staring at you right now made nothing else matter. It made you believe everything was gonna be okay eventually. 

And you didn’t know what came over you. Maybe it was the soft waves rocking the boat, or maybe it was the cool summer breeze that danced across your arms. Maybe it was the call of a seagull somewhere in the distance and the soft murmur of the party back on the dock that made you close your eyes and lean into him. And he did the same, connecting your lips with a soft sigh that made you wonder if he had been waiting for this moment as long as you had. 

Bucky tasted like beer and peppermint gum. His lips were soft, and warm, and a bit salty, as if he had come up out of the ocean himself, some form of Poseidon sent to seduce you and take you back underwater with him forever. And you would gladly let him if it meant he would keep kissing you like this. 

You heard a soft rolling, and then a bang and a crash before realizing Bucky’s beer had rolled off the hard top and crashed onto floor of the boat. And he didn’t care, opting to now use his free hands to pull you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist. This sent your own beer following his, the sound of glass breaking making you giggle against his lips.

“Sam’s gonna kill us,” you muttered, and he smiled into the kiss.

“I don’t care,” he whispered, hands travelling underneath your cotton shirt and leaving trails of fire wherever his fingers passed. 

He pulled away, and you brought your hands up to tangle your fingers in his messy hair. He looked so beautiful, lips red and puffy, cheeks painted by a soft blush, eyes hooded and dark. 

“I could get used to this,” he said, voice hoarse, and it sent chills down your spine. 

You merely nodded. “Me too.”

Bucky brought a hand up to your neck and pulled you down into him for another kiss, and you melted into his touch. 

“This is- this is good,” he mumbled against your mouth, and you just sighed and hummed in agreement.

“We should do this more,” he said, hands gripping your hips and moving you against him slightly. “We should do this a lot more.”

You bit your lip and stared into his eyes as you tried catching your breath. One of your hands found its way from his hair to his face, your finger tracing the worry lines between his brows softly, then dropping to travel across the bridge of his nose. “We should.”

Bucky nodded, and gave your hips another squeeze. 

“Just don’t fall in love,” he said, a teasing tone lilting his voice, and the breath in your throat hitched.

“What?” you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“Just don’t fall in love,” he repeated, nipping softly at your neck as he spoke. 

You scoffed. “Not a problem, trust me.”

Bucky lifted his head from your neck to look up at you. He gave you a boyish smile, and you rolled your eyes at him in return. 

You hoped he couldn’t sense the way your heart split open, flooding with sadness and heartbreak at the realization that he didn’t love you the way you loved him. You hoped he couldn’t read the desperation in your eyes and on your tongue as each kiss dimmed your soul a bit more.

You hoped he wouldn’t notice the fact that you were madly in love with him already, but decided to pretend not to be, because having him in any way was better than not having him at all. 

__________

“I just don’t know how much longer I can keep going.”

Sarah hummed in contemplation, wiping down the glass in her hand and setting it in the overhead cabinet. 

“Well, have you talked to him about it?”

You scoffed. “No fucking way. I’d rather suffer in silence than lose him completely.”

Sarah threw the rag in her hand over her shoulder and rested her hip on the counter. She crossed her arms and gave you one of those looks of hers where she just knew you were bullshitting her. 

“Y/N,” she sighed as she stepped over to the dining table where you were sat with your chin in your hand. “I’m begging you to think this through. You know I only want what’s best for you.”

You give her an unamused side eye and shrug your shoulders. You kept your focus on the placemat in front of you, picking at the edge with your finger.

Sarah pulled out the chair next to you and took a seat, bringing a hand up to squeeze your forearm. 

“It’s been a year of you hurting after him and him not giving a damn. Now, I love Bucky, just as much as I love Sam, but he can be so dumb sometimes. It’s like he misses social cues on purpose.”

Her exasperated tone pulled a smile to your lips and you quirked your brow in agreement. Sarah continued.

“I love seeing the two of you together, believe me, if anyone wants you to end up together officially, it’s me. But if you’re too afraid to talk to him about it because you’re worried you’ll lose him, then there’s only one thing you can do, honey.”

You gave her a look, and she gave you an apologetic smile in return. “This friends with benefits thing just isn’t cutting it anymore, I fear. You have to let him go.”

You took in a deep breath to try and keep the tears at bay, because no matter how much you avoided it, you knew Sarah was right. You had two options: risk talking to Bucky about it and potentially ruining whatever semblance of friendship you had left. Or, you could stop giving in to him and running whenever he called just to feel a sliver of something bigger. 

You let out a frustrated groan and let your head hit the table. Neither option sounded appealing, but you supposed if you had to pick one, you’d rather it be the latter. Ignoring someone was always the easy way out.

Or so you thought.

Three weeks later, and you were about to implode. It was difficult to go no-contact when all Bucky did was contact you. 

Dozens of his calls left to voicemail and ignored text messages, you thought he would’ve gotten the message by now. However, he only seemed to be getting worse. 

You left Sarah’s every time Sam called to say he was dropping by with Bucky. You asked Fury to put you on assignments with Torres instead of Bucky. You were doing your very hardest to come up with excuses as to why you couldn’t come over every time Bucky managed to corner you in a hallway or text you to stop by. 

You thought it would get easier over time, yet your heart only ached more and more each day you woke up and remembered: it wasn’t the same anymore. Those first two seconds after waking up, before that sinking feeling of realization hit, were something you treasured more than life itself. 

You wondered if he noticed. If he asked himself what had happened, or if everything was okay. He hadn’t come to visit, though, so you supposed he was just ready to move on to the next one after all. 

__________

Bucky tried focusing on whatever Sam was saying. He really, truly was. But it was proving difficult when his thoughts kept pulling him back to you. Or rather, the lack of you these days. 

It didn’t help that everywhere he looked and everything he saw reminded him of you in some way. The fishing nets Sam made him help haul over the bow? He smiled to himself at the memory of your foot getting tangled in them, making you trip and fall with a swear. The gulls flying above them? Almost like that time one flew down and stole a huge bite of your burger, leaving you wide eyed in shock. And God forbid he looked up, at the hard top above the helm. The first time you ever kissed him, soft hands and soft touch, marked to this day by the beer stains on the floorboards of the ship. 

“Buck?”

Sam’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and he cleared his throat, shaking his head. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you wanted to go out fishing with me later since Sarah’s busy with the kids. The babysitter cancelled on her, and you know she can’t leave those boys alone in the house for longer than five minutes.”

Bucky smiled fondly and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

Sam threw a rag at him, wet and dripping with soapy water. 

“How about you actually help clean something for once, Barnes?”

Bucky rolled his eyes but obliged, turning to his side to start wiping down the hull as far as he could reach. As he wiped, he cleared his throat.

“Have you, uh, seen Y/N lately?”

Sam paused his mopping, letting out a sigh and resting his elbow on the mop handle. “Yeah, man, she’s at Sarah’s, like, all the time. Why?”

Bucky’s heart sank at Sam’s words, and he tried getting rid of the uncomfortable feeling in his chest as he shifted on his feet nonchalantly. 

“Oh.”

“Why?” Sam repeated.

Bucky shrugged, still avoiding Sam’s eyes. “I dunno. I get the feeling she’s been avoiding me these days.”

Sam stayed quiet, and that prompted Bucky to look up from his wiping and make eye contact with him. He gave him a knowing look, leaning against the mop.

“What?” Bucky asked defensively. 

“Does she have any reason to be avoiding you?” Sam asked him, and Bucky paused.

“I don’t think so,” he replied after a moment. 

Sam scoffed and shook his head disbelievingly. “Alright man. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Bucky threw his hands up and turned towards him. “What is it? Do you know something I don’t?”

“You’re really stupid sometimes. You know that, right?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Yes, actually, you’ve told me multiple times.”

“Good,” Sam said with a satisfied smile and clapped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Just makin’ sure you didn’t forget.”

Suddenly, his smile dropped and he lowered his voice. “But seriously dude, just go and check on her. Don’t be a jackass.”

Bucky stood still, even after Sam turned to continue mopping the deck, staring at the back of his head. He nodded slowly, to himself, and squeezed the rag in his hand a little tighter. 

__________

The knock on your door had you groaning in annoyance, prompting you to push yourself up off your bed where you had been rotting away over the weekend. You had told Sarah you weren’t feeling very well, and it wasn’t a lie. You had just omitted the fact that you were emotionally unwell. 

A chill ran through your body as you made your way to the door, making you wrap your robe a little tighter around your body. You heaved out a heavy sigh as you unlocked the door.

“Sarah, I already told you I don’t need any-”

It wasn’t Sarah at the door. Sarah’s eyes weren’t that specific shade of blue that made you want to sink into them and never come back out. Only one person had eyes like that-

“Bucky?”

“Y/N.”

“What... what are you doing here?”

“What, I can’t visit my best friend?”

A tiny, needle-like tinge pierced your heart at his words, yet another reminder that you were just that to him: his friend. 

You stuttered, tripping over your words as he sidestepped you, making his way into your place. 

“How have you been?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Well, I haven’t seen you in a couple of weeks, so I was wondering if you were okay,” Bucky clarified, shrugging.

You stared at him, standing in the middle of your living room, black t-shirt and black jeans so out of place in the midst of all your pink and grey furniture and decorations. Yet somehow, he looked like he was exactly where he belonged. 

You shook your head, trying to brush him off with a slight chuckle. “I’m fine, Buck, I don’t... I don’t know what you mean-”

“Yes you do,” he interrupted you, cutting straight to the chase. “Why won’t you answer my calls? Why haven’t you been returning my texts? Why do you leave Sarah’s the moment you find out I’m coming over? You’ve been ignoring me, Y/N, and I wanna know what I did to deserve that.”

You stood flabbergasted, opening and closing your mouth, at a loss for words. 

“I just- I,” you stuttered, shaking your head. “I have no idea what you’re talk-”

“Y/N,” he pressed, and in two long strides he was right in front of you, towering over you with his supersoldier frame. His hands came up to hold your face, his eyes searching yours for an answer. “Please don’t make a fool of me.”

Your bottom lip immediately began to quiver, and Bucky’s eyes softened. 

“Bucky I-”

“Shit,” he swore softly, leading you over to the couch where he sat you down, kneeling on his knees in front of you. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, dolly.”

You shook your head, even as the tears spilled over your lash line, because it was so stupid. The whole thing was just so stupid. 

Bucky’s lips pressed against yours feverishly as he tried to kiss the tears away, covering your lips and cheeks in soft pecks. You tried pulling away, his actions only making the tears fall harder.

“Bucky, please,” you whispered hoarsely, and he pulled back to take a good look at you, his thumbs stroking your wet cheeks. He looked pained to see you in tears, which only made it harder for you to push him away.

“Y/N....”

You shook your head firmly, reaching your hands up to wrap around his wrists. “No.”

“What?”

“No,” you repeated. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Bucky looked slightly taken aback, and he dropped his hands from your face. “Do what?”

You shrugged and sniffled, gesturing between the two of you. “This... whatever this is.”

“What do you mean?”

Bucky looked genuinely confused, and it only made a sob tear through your chest. 

“It hurts too much, Buck. I can’t stand to be the one you call only when you’re bored, or horny, or frustrated after a bad date. I shouldn’t have let it get this far in the first place but I’m just so fucking stupid because I kept thinking... maybe it’ll change... maybe he’ll realize. God, Bucky, I love you so much. I would do anything for you, including bring myself to fucking ruins if it means being able to hold you and touch you, even for just a little bit. You’re hurting me, Bucky. I can’t breathe when I’m around you.”

You took in a choppy breath after you finished your small rant, squeezing your eyes shut and letting fresh tears streak your cheeks. Bucky was quiet, and you were too afraid to look at him. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered to him with your eyes closed. 

You felt his fingers brush the tears from your jaw. “Sorry for what?”

You swallowed heavily. “Sorry for falling in love with you.”

The silence surrounding you was deafening. It was threatening to suffocate you, pounding in your ears and clawing at your throat. 

“Dolly,” Bucky whispered, and you whimpered. 

“Look at me,” he said softly, and you refused, shaking your head like a little child. “Look at me, please.”

He grabbed your face and forced your head up. You opened your eyes to find his staring back. 

“I love you, too,” he began, but you started to pull away. 

“No, no, Bucky, you’re being mean-”

“Baby, please-”

“Bucky! You love me as your friend! You love me... you love me the way you loved Steve, or the way you love Sam. I’m in love with you, Buck, to the point where I would jump off a cliff if it meant helping you, or saving you, or even making you fucking smile.”

“Listen to me!” Bucky snapped, shaking your head in his hands slightly. You ran silent, punctuating his sentence with a teary hiccup as you studied his face.

He looked more distraught than you had ever seen him. His eyes were glinting with unshed tears of his own under the soft living room lights, and his brows were creased together in worry. 

“What you don’t understand, Y/N, is that I am in love with you. And I always have been. And I... I think I always will be.”

You stared at him.

His fingers twitched against your face as you began shaking your head.

“But that... that doesn’t make any sense,” you retorted, and Bucky let out a sigh.

“I know,” he whispered, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them. “I only warned you not to fall in love because I... I wanted you to find someone better than me. Someone with less baggage. Someone who could give you the life you deserve. Not me. Never me. But I was just selfish.”

“Bucky...”

You let a teary laugh. 

He looked up at you through his lashes. 

“It’s always you. It’s always gonna be you. I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me sooner,” you cooed, bringing a hand up to brush his hair back from his forehead. 

“I was just... I was afraid you only wanted something physical, so I pretended it didn’t bother me. I just liked being near you any way I could.”

You stared at him for a moment before a genuine laugh bubbled out your throat. 

“We’re both so fucking stupid,” you said with a teary smile, tracing the shape of his lips with your fingertips. 

He smiled against your feather-light touch and let out a content sigh. 

“I love you, truly. I’m sorry I ever made you feel otherwise,” he whispered into your palm, placing a kiss to it. 

“Doesn’t matter anymore. We get a fresh start now.”

_______________

TAGLIST:

@maatsim @a-ngeli-que  @agirlinherhead @s-katergorl @ace-27749 @leyannrae @tailsoflightning @acidwidow @angelofthorr @gallysonegoodlung @creatingjana @i-loveyoubutyourenotmine @rosedpetal @inlovewfictionalmen826 @multinci @peaches1958 @loaksmuntxa @seitmai​ @writing-for-marvel 

[sminiac]

k hear me out....xikers(legal line ofc) catching you masturbating?

💌 — HEARING YOU OUT MY BELOVED!!! HEARING YOU OUT.

Warnings — Smut focused, MDNI.

Once Minjae hears the soft string of pleading words slip through the cracks of your door he comes to a complete stop, his senses spiked by what sounds like his name being called, subconsciously drawn out by the sweltering pleasure that’s thick in your stomach from the work of your fingers running slick against your clit.

He knows he shouldn’t be sitting outside of your room like this, cock stirring heavy against the harsh denim of his pants, what if one of the members were to find him like this? So engulfed by the faintest lick of you he’s only experiencing through sound alone, pathetically drooling over the possibility of you pleasing yourself to what he assumes is the image of him.

His ears just barely catch at the wet sound that actively drowns out your soft squeaks, bed dipping under your weight as you thrash, dedicated to bringing yourself to that ever so inviting peak, but it’s just simply too good.

Poor thing is so nervous, so overwhelmed that his hands are clammy against the handle of your door, the only thing he knows that if it isn’t now it would surely be never, so he takes his chances and cracks the door open, the sight before him making his knees buckle, saliva thick in his mouth.

You’re spread so pretty, sheets a rippled mess over your body, bare skin peaking out here and there, he more than expects to receive a scolding and to be locked out just as quickly as he got in, but instead you’re so timid in beckoning him over that he melts, already too far gone to care about the embarrassment of being walked in on, it being done on purpose or not is nothing of concern when it’s him that’s intruding.

He’s so restrained in your fragile state, works you into this unfamiliarity with him by kissing you so sweetly, his tongue a softness you’ve never felt as he licks his way into your mouth, there’s no power dynamic in the way he moulds into you, he just simply wants to continue feeling the parts of you that he’s only known through vaguely assembled dreams, but god is it so much better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“Could hear you,” he says in a knowing yet sweet tone, watching, letting you drag his hand downwards. “what if someone else got here before I did? Are you that desperate, or am I falling right into your trap?” His breathing is full in his chest, the nerves dwindling as he focuses on the jump of your hips, nerves twitching, in dire need to be satiated by his touch. “Hm?” He coaxes, slipping his hand further back, coating himself in your arousal all the way down to the proximal point of his finger. “C’mon sweet girl, words.”

In short he’d be so talkative, needs to hear that you want him, that you need him, is willing to tease just so he can get the broken string of words out of you. He’s the type to still be considerate of your state, continues to please you but doesn’t actually fuck you until he knows you’re 100% certain, that there’s no impulsivity present to cloud your judgement. In the aftermath If it becomes more of a fwb situation he’s so relentless about teasing you, even in front of the guys, alludes to the two of you having a thing very heavily but he’d never directly say it.

Junmin swears he didn’t just see what he thought he did, right? I mean, sure, it’s his fault for being nosy, and maybe, possibly partially due to the fact that he has the most serious crush on you that he’s ever had in his whole entire life, so he just had to silently sneak around your house to find out what’s been keeping you so long after having excused yourself 30 minutes ago with a fleeting comment about going to change into your pyjamas, but that was too long of time spent separately from you, that’s why he’s absolutely gobsmacked at the sight of you with a pillow stuffed between your legs, leisurely rocking yourself further into the soft pressure, your body left with what leaves very little to the imagination.

You know he’s there, why else would you be wearing what you are? Plus he wasn’t exactly as slick as he thought, so you kick up the reactions, breathy “Min”s making him tense up as you rock a little heavier, faster, his ears perk up at the sound, you’re the only one who refers to him as Min, and he couldn’t mistake himself with Minjae, the two of you aren’t that close.

A troubled whine vibrates from his throat before he can stop it, a hand slapping over his mouth in panic as he takes a heavy step back from the door. “Min?” You call softly, still breathless from your performance, fuck you’re making him so hard. “Junmin?” You reiterate a little louder, pulling yourself back down to the mattress, pillow held between your hands as you wait patiently. “Come here please,” now you’ve got his heart thumping its way up into his throat, “need you.” and you’re going to be the reason he’s laid out unconscious on this floor if you don’t stop.

Hesitantly he reveals himself, his eyes cute and curious as he very carefully slips into your room, conscious to not open it too wide as if someone else were to see, the others were still downstairs, as noisy and distracted as ever, you’d have time. “Ne-Uh, need help with,” he’s struggling to swallow down his nerves, it doesn’t help that he can’t stop looking at you. “with what?”

“You know what.”

In a matter of minutes you’ve got him sat back against the headboard of your bed, fisting shyly at his cock while he watches the show you put on for him, too focused on the way you move, how unreal you look, so pretty fucking yourself just for him that he’s a little startled at your voice as you coax: “Min, faster-” and he’s so quick to submit to your directions, letting out the cutest whimpers as he struggles to keep his eyes open, just wants to see you, watch you, but he’s already so close to cumming.

“Please! Wan’ more, wanna keep watching, shit-”

Once the both of you have finished he becomes so cuddly, just a babbling, incoherent puddle in your hands, sweet boy just wants to be held:( he’s so the type to keep muttering out a slur of indecipherable nonsense, even when you’ve finally got your arms wrapped around him with his head nuzzled warmly against your chest, he keeps going, doesn’t have a thing to say, just sounds of pure contentment, he swears it’s the coziest he’s ever been, pressing small wet kisses to your skin before he promptly crashes out.

Sumin can’t tell what he thinks, you’re so cute, obviously, so eager to imitate the feelings he provokes out of you once you’ve got him riled up and ready, but simultaneously a little offended, which is why he’s so firm on you continuing but this time with his guidance, his supervision, because apparently you’re now capable of fucking yourself into delirium that he doesn’t want to cut you short of it for even a second.

“Nope,” he declines of your attempt to weakly pull down his hand, abruptly tugging himself from your grasp just so he can rest it limply at his hip, the sight of his veins running thick up his forearms isn’t helping your case at all. “you’ve got it.” He insists.

He’s so mean, refuses to even look you in the eyes as he forces you to get off by your hands alone, the most he’ll do is gently rest his fingers over yours anytime your pace slows more than he’d like, urging them to start moving against your puffy clit again with his aid. “You were so confident baby, where’d that go? Hm?” His voice runs so deep, a sharp rasp to it that has your back arching in restlessness, the sheets warm, sticky under your back from how long he’s been forcing you to “keep going”

It takes quite a while but eventually you crack him with promise that it “just doesn’t feel as good as you” and he’s quick to move, although he doesn’t do it without a heavy sigh, having become not as impatient himself, but more so just wanting to make his girl feel good he doesn’t waste time stripping of his pesky clothes. Sumin can’t say he hates the way your hands are all over him as soon as he’s holding himself firmly above you, the way you drag your pretty fingers up his stomach, the dense ridges of his skin a feeling you’ve gone without for far too long.

Your nails flit up to his shoulders where they sink into place once he’s pushing his cock into you.

Hair curtaining over his eyes as he watches the way you suck him in, so greedy in the way you pull tight around him when he’s trying to ease back out, the drag of his cock slow until he stops, a frown wearing at his face, “Stop. You’ve finally got what you’ve been wanting, begging me for, remember? The tears running down your face as you cried so pathetically: ‘Please, please baby- just need you inside of me’ and now you want to keep acting like a brat?”

He lifts a hand free from bearing his own weight, grabbing you firmly by your jaw to keep your line of sight directly on him, “you gonna stop now? If you do maybe I’ll cum inside of you, ‘s what you want, right?” You nod, lip quivering, he’s quick to press a kiss to your pouty face, shifting himself further up so he can suck your tongue into his mouth as his thrusts proceed in full, a little heavier, a little more intent on making you reach your end, because the faster it comes the faster he can get back to fucking you, wants you crying again but only because of how many times he can make you cum.

I don’t think I have anything more to add other than him being mean is so 😵‍💫 isn’t hesitant to pin your legs wherever he needs them to be, he’s just so teasing, constantly: “And you thought you could make your own legs shake like this?” He’s so confident in knowing his way around your body that he could laugh at you for even thinking you could make yourself cum, he’s such a service!dom but doesn’t so easily give in, takes pride in making you a mindless mess, because who else could do to you what he does? Definitely not you.

“Feels good honey?” Jinsik asks, an entertained smile on his face as his head falls to the side, finding joy in your surprised expression. “It must since you’re already so wet, what’re you thinking about?” He’s so casual about it, taking his time to shoulder off his sweater as he makes his way over to the couch you occupy. “is it me?” His tone is genuine, yet you can’t help but wonder if he’s trying to be funny about it, the neediness clouding your ability to pick him apart, all you know is that right now he just looks so beautiful, the black glasses propped on the bridge of his nose, his hair soft, not styled, fuck.

“Can you keep going please? I like watching, think you look so pretty my love.”

Who are you to deny him? He sets himself up in front of you comfortably, and if you weren’t so lost to your own pleasure surely you’d be embarrassed by how close, how intently he watches you. He’s so sweet to you, but is so incredibly hard from how you’re clutching at his arm tightly, whining out his name like he’s the one fucking you, god you’re irresistible, can’t help but ask: “Can I use my mouth? Please, need to feel you on my tongue.” And as soon as your fingers run wet over his bottom lip with a nod he’s pulling your legs to rest over his shoulders, heels digging into his back as soon as he’s gently licking your folds apart, the thickness of your arousal drenching his tongue, smearing further over his face in his motions as he drags heavy stripes back and forth, easing you in.

His eyes are so cute, can’t help but search for the way your face screws up when he’s sucking at your clit, his tongue running ticklish against it between his lips. At first it’s solely for your pleasure… until he really gets into it and is just there solely indulging in you for himself, loves making those obscenely loud slurping noises, his fingers searching for yours so they can lock together.

“Can you touch yourself for me?” Is a frequently asked question, it could be so sudden and out of nowhere but it’s so hard to deny him when he asks so cutely, his expression so soft, his pretty eyes so expectant it’s a struggle getting ‘no’ out of you whenever he’s requesting something of you, ugh he’s so😞 doesn’t even manage watching you for long before he’s asking you permission for him to touch himself too :(

Making small 15-20 minute calls to you throughout the day is a normal thing for Hyunwoo, and although his schedule could be a little disorderly at times he always managed to make it happen, he just didn’t expect to catch you at a time that would have him muting himself whilst dashing to a vacant room, one preferably with a lock.

“Tell me what you’re doing baby,” he says, the tips of his fingers lightly toying with the buckle of his belt. “wanna know how you’re touching yourself for me.”

He feeds off of the staticky whine in return that you huff out, frustrated that he just had to be working right now instead of touching you himself. “‘m not, won’t be able to finish.” He can hear your legs swiping restlessly at the cold sheets, trying to keep the thrumming pulse between your thighs to a minimum as your fingers work slowly at pumping in and out, but it’s hard when he sounds so pretty like this.

“You’re such a liar”

You have no reason to keep up the facade when he’s already caught on, he knows you too well, your pace increases, legs shifting further apart, “inside-” you gasp out.

“Mmh, two?”

“Two.”

The thin metal band that keeps the leather in place slips out of the hole as he tugs it loose around his waist, his zipper undone, jaw pulled tight once he’s got his length held heavy in his hand, his pressure light as fingers run up and down experimentally. “Put your phone down and your other hand to use, yeah? Just how you like it.” You move quickly, doing exactly as he says, and once he hears the pitch of your voice heighten he’s tipping over, cheeks sucked in as saliva gathers onto his tongue and is quickly dripping it onto the head of his cock, his fingers catching as it slides down, smearing it further.

“Can’t believe you, shit- have me jerking off while I’m working. But fuck, need you so bad baby… so, so bad.”

Holds the phone close to his mouth so you can hear better when he cums😣 also the type to ask for pictures, loves the visuals, gets so geeked!!! You’re like caffeine to him, is so rejuvenated when returning back to his members like he wasn’t just saying complete and utter filth to you over the phone :b is always shooting you a quick message after, telling you that he loves you and that he can’t wait to come back home, so cuddly and affectionate with you when you’re finally back in his arms.

I haven’t slept in quite a while, so forgive me if some of this is incoherent, I’ll go back over it to edit when I have the energy:,)

[ysljoon]

Too High | MYG, JHS

♡pairing: dealer!min yoongi x reader x fwb!jung hoseok

♡wc: 1.7k

♡genre: angst, non-idol au

♡warnings: oc is lowkey toxic (sorry yall), mentions of drug use and smoking, oc has the nickname Peach

♡summary: you haven't moved on from your ex, can someone else pick up the pieces for you or are you going to keep yourself in the cycle of the failed relationship?

MINORS DNI (have your age in your bio or you're getting blocked)

You watched as the rain pattered against your window and the gray clouds rolled through the sky. You sighed, rechecking your phone to see if Yoongi replied to your message. As you swiped to the text thread between you two you heard two hard knocks against your door. Of course, he would be here without even replying to your message. You sauntered to the door and opened it without even looking, “You know it would be nice if you responded before just showing up.” You sighed as Yoongi slipped through the entryway and kicked off his shoes. “Also don’t get comfortable. Hobi is coming over later so I would like you out before he’s here.” He huffed as he dug through his bag to grab out the reason he even came here. 

“You act like that information is supposed to make me care. Anyways, here's your quarter bag Peach.” You grabbed the bag from the countertop and observed it to make sure he didn’t skimp out on you. “Relax, you know I never shortchange you Y/N. I actually gave you extra this time.” You raised an eyebrow in his direction. He started to grab things out of his backpack. From what you can see it looks like a grinder, some wraps, and a rolling tray. “Yoongi just because you’re my plug doesn’t mean you get to smoke here whenever you please” He rolled his eyes and sat down on the couch. His fingers started to diligently work at breaking down the weed to place it in the grinder. “I just bought some of my own so we can smoke a little. Consider it a dealer’s treat.” He sent you a smirk your way and you just scoffed. You weren’t one to say no to free weed.

The light that illuminated the room came from a single standing lamp that sat in the corner of your living room. There was a haze of smoke through the air as you guys were halfway through the blunt. Yoongi’s signature playlist was playing lowly in the background to fill the silence between you two. You stared at the ceiling, your brain swimming with thoughts of what it could’ve been if he didn’t break up with you. There’s still a sense of yearning that crawls its way out of the depths of your heart from time to time. It’s been a year since that breakup, but the feelings for Yoongi haven’t gone away, they’ve just settled on the back burner. You tilted your head and your lidded eyes met his and he gave a soft smile, but had nothing to say. You wonder if he’s thinking about the same things as you. You want to ask him so badly, but do you really want to know the answer? 

The doorknob started to jiggle and the clinking of keys alerted you that Hobi was about to enter your apartment and the realization cleared your high only slightly because Yoongi was still here. You don’t even know how much time has passed and you curse yourself internally for letting the time slip away from you so easily. Everything with Yoongi is so easy despite the slight rift between you two.

Hobi walks through the door and observes the scene in front of him. You’re sitting on the couch in one of his hoodies and a pair of shorts (they’re one of his favorite pairs too, but that’s neither here nor there). Yoongi is next to you on the couch, but there’s enough distance between the two of you that it’s respectable. Hoseok still doesn’t even like the fact that Yoongi comes over to your apartment when he’s not there. He trusts you, but he doesn’t trust Yoongi. 

You lazily walk your way up to him and greet him with a tight hug and kiss on his cheek. As you hugged him he couldn’t help himself from staring down Yoongi. A way of silently telling him what he lost the day he broke up with you. Yoongi rolled his eyes and prodded his tongue on the inside of his tongue in annoyance. Whatever show of dominance Hoseok was trying to show was contemptible. He did realize he did overstay his welcome and started to pack up his belongings leaving the other half of the blunt in the ashtray that you always have on your coffee table. You bid him goodbye, still clinging on to Hobi as he slipped on his shoes. “Enjoy the weed Peach, hit me up whenever you need more.” His eyes glinted as you saw the vein in Hoseok’s neck become slightly more prominent hearing the nickname. 

The door locked and Hobi sighed. You looked up at him with furrowed eyes trying to decode his expression in your inebriated state. He leads you to the couch and places you in his lap. His arms circled you protectively and you cling to him just as tight. “Why do you keep doing this to yourself Y/N?” You shrugged at his question pretending to not know what he was talking about.

The relationship you have with Hobi is a bit complicated. You guys started as friends with benefits and it has evolved into something more than that, but no official title in sight. It’s fine and it’s what works for the both of you. He was there for you when Yoongi broke up with you. He was there to pick up the pieces of yourself that you lost along the way and he’d be damned if he let Yoongi do that to you again.

Another sigh left his mouth. “Y/N, I’m serious. There’s no way it’s healthy for you to keep seeing him. He hurt you badly.” His words were stern, but the gentle rub on your back kept you grounded. You knew he was right, but it was hard for you to actually acknowledge it out loud. “I know, I know. But he really is good as a friend Hobi and I'm practically over him at this point and you know it.” You don’t know who you’re trying to convince more. He placed a chaste kiss against your forehead and gave you another tight squeeze. “Alright let’s finish this blunt though because even though I hate that bastard he has really good weed.” You giggled and grabbed the lighter as Hobi connected his phone to the Bluetooth speaker and played his favorite ‘high vibes’ playlist.

The ash of the blunt dropped into the ashtray and this signaled that you’ve reached the end. You felt light as a feather and exceptionally giggly and Hobi felt the same way. You rested your head on his shoulder and curled your body close to him as he scrolled through the food delivery app trying to decide what he felt for (the munchies made everything sound delectable). You groaned trying to hurry him up and he conceded and selected a pizza restaurant you both liked. It’s reliable for a reason. 

Placing his phone on the table he turned to face you. He’s not even doing anything, but the slow rise and fall of his chest and Adam's apple bobbing in his throat suddenly became the sexiest actions a man could do. With no warning, you pressed a kiss to his lips to test the waters and he pulled you closer and deepened the kiss with no hesitation.  He pulled back huffing for air and staring at you with admiration swimming in his mocha colored eyes. His eyes scanned your face and he saw the hesitation deep in your eyes. “Talk to me Peach, what’re you thinking about?” Your heart clenched in your chest.

“I don’t think I know what I’m doing Hobi.” A tear slipped down your cheek. “W-what do you mean? Y/N what are you talking about.” His heart rate started to spike. This outburst came as no warning. You and him were doing good, great even. You were breathless trying to make sense of what you were thinking. What’s funny is that all of this doesn’t even make sense to you, but it feels right. “Hoseok I’m sorry, but I need to go see him.” You rose from the couch heading to your room to put on pants and get your keys. Before you could get through the threshold of your bedroom he grabbed onto your wrist and forced you to look at him. “Y/N don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to us. Above all else don’t do this to yourself.” The tears were falling uncontrollably. You know deep down that he’s right and this isn’t a decision made from a sound mind. What were you to do if he were to hurt you again this time around? That will be a bridge to cross once you encounter it. 

Your heart aches seeing that you’re breaking his heart so selfishly. But when it comes to Yoongi you will always be a little selfish. “I’m sorry Hobi, I need to go to him. I need to see him.” You’re weeping now and you can tell from the shudder of Hoseok’s shoulders that he’s crying too. “If this is what you really want Y/N, I can’t stop you, but the second he hurts you again you can’t come run to me to cry in my arms.” Leaving those words in the air he walked out of your apartment. Your ears were ringing from the silence.

The heartbeat was thrumming in your ears and your fingers were shaking around the steering wheel as you drove over to Yoongi’s apartment. His address is ingrained into you. You never forgot it truthfully, even though it’s been a year since you’ve been there. You parked and hastily made your way hastily up the stairs. Curse Min Yoongi for living on the fourth floor. Once you were face to face with his front door your breath hitched. This was never a good idea no matter what way you spun it, but it’s too late to turn back now. You made your bed so now time to lay in it. You timidly knocked hoping that Yoongi was close enough to be able to hear it if he was in a different room. The door cracked open and Yoongi’s onyx eyes were able to realize something was wrong immediately and he swung the door fully open. You crashed into his chest and started sobbing. He cooed and pulled you even closer. His scent enveloping you is the only thing that could ground you right now. 

“Shh, you’re okay Peach. You’re safe with me.”

[hisunshiine]

—i kiss your waist and ease your mind [6/7]

Part 6 of 7 of the Seven Days Series ↣ series masterlist

🗓️pairing: nurse!jungkook x teacher!reader 🗓️au/genre: non-idol au, brother’s friend au, fwb, age-gap(reader is older), f2l, fluff, angst, smut 🗓️rating: M 🗓️wc: 6,323 + text message 🗓️warnings: angst, mentions of Gwangju Uprising, casualties from the Uprising, hospitals, argument, hurt feelings, minor character death, grief explicit sexual content: unprotected sex, creampie, grief/comfort sex?   🗓️an 0.5: WELL, THE POST WAS ACCIDENTALLY DELETED AND ONLY SHOWS IN CERTAIN SITUATIONS, SO I HAD TO RE-UPLOAD. 🗓️an: well, well, well…back again for some pain, are you? I would apologize for how this ends, but it’s necessary for the set up of the final day of the week, and truly, I think it makes the final day that much more better if we have to hurt a little bit more, right? Thank you for reading, and again, I appreciate my beta readers for all of their help!   🗓️summary: “i kiss your waist and ease your mind.” The only thing that could make you feel better is the same thing that made you feel worse. You and Jungkook are both confused with your emotions, but two different stories help you both see a bit more clearly. The only problem is that when the two of you get around each other, clarity goes bye-bye. don’t let these soft lyrics fool you; make up sex doesn’t actually solve any issues if sex is the only communication that happens.  

Taglist: @sizzlingfestpeach @mochminnie @jungkooksmytype @kookslastbutton @taebangtanbabe @bbtsficrecs @jk97bam it’s not letting me tag you (if joining the taglist, please think about reblogging with tags/leaving feedback!)

Last night could not have been any worse for Jungkook—well, he’s sure it could have—but luckily the worst that could’ve been, had not come to be. Today, however, is proving itself to be a challenge in its own right. Jungkook knew he had to work early in the morning, but was alright with going out last night because he was with you. 

Last night honestly had been turning into a great night—the way you had silently laid your claim to him at the club, possessive of him in a healthy way—Jungkook thought things were progressing in the right direction. And clearly, you did, too. Hell, he knew he was all over you last night. Knew that he was taking a huge risk in advancing the relationship past friends with benefits when he threw all caution out the window to kiss you like that in front of your friends, but at the time, Jungkook didn’t care. 

And now? Well, that would be a different story, seeing as now that several people know that you’re the one he’s been fucking every night, they might all think something more should come from this situation. Jungkook doesn’t know what to tell them if they ask, and he’s been avoiding Jimin every chance he gets during his shift so far, because he doesn’t really know what to say. He walks to the nurses station to grab his oversized water bottle, drinking several large gulps before being interrupted. 

“Jeon, we have a case that’s just moved over to us, can you help?” Park Soo-hyun, the head nurse for the shift, asks him. As he lowers the semi-transparent canister, he takes in her cotton candy pink hair, which is mussed in a few places; the corners of her eyes are pinched with stress.

“Yeah, no problem.” Jungkook sets the bottle back on the shelf, and follows the shorter Nurse Park down the hallway to the right of the nurses station and watches as she pauses at the elevators to press the call button. Jungkook slows his walk and raises an eyebrow at his fellow nurse. 

“Sorry, we need the help on another unit,” she shrugs, elbow extending her arm to pass Jungkook a slim tablet with the patient's info pulled up. 

“Honestly, that’s perfect.” Escaping to a different floor means almost zero percent chance of Jungkook running into Jimin, so he strolls into the elevator with no regrets. 

Jungkook scrolls past the general information to see just exactly what he’s dealing with as the metal carriage rises. 

His heart breaks a little when he sees that this case is a hospice care one—a focus on the quality of life at the end of it. He follows Nurse Park, barely noticing as he puts one foot after the other, approaching the room. There are several acronyms listed in bold to the left of the door. This clues him into the fact that the goal has shifted from treatment care to comfort. 

Jungkook sees a sleeping, elderly woman in the hospital bed closest to the window, her grey hair pulled away from her face in a short ponytail. Next to her side is a similarly (he assumes) aged man, holding her wrinkled hand in his own. It is a sight that tugs at Jungkook’s heart; he doesn’t usually struggle with the elderly, just small children who end up in this unit, but with how he’s currently feeling about you, he thinks it's impacting him more than he’s used to. 

“Mr. Kim? This is Nurse Jeon. He’ll be with you and your wife for most of today,” Soo-Hyun says kindly as she pats Jungkook’s back in a motherly nature. “Please let him know if you need anything, okay?” She passes Jungkook a small phone, which he pockets, and leaves him in the sunlit room. He steps closer, pulling up the doctor’s chair to sit; a small, rolling, cushioned stool in hospital green. He glances at their names on the whiteboard. Patient: Jung Min-Ji, Spouse: Kim Tae-Woo.

“Hi, Mr. Kim,” Jungkook starts, voice gentle and quiet so as not to disturb the sleeping woman.

“Hello,” Mr. Kim replies, voice weathered with time and wisdom. “We’re okay, son, you don’t need to sit with this old man.”

Jungkook is no stranger to the phrases the older generation tend to say when in this position. The feelings of being a burden on the hospital staff, guilt for brief thoughts blaming their loved one for being in this position, grief that they could possibly lose their loved one—they’re all valid emotions, and a lot for a person to bear. Especially an elderly man who appears to be carrying this weight alone. Instead of responding to his statement, Jungkook changes the topic. “How did the two of you meet?”

The man’s eyes sparkle to life as he looks at Jungkook’s eager face. “Oh, we’ve known each other since we were kids. She was the most beautiful girl in the village, and I was just some dumb kid who followed her around like a puppy. She’s older than me, you see, and I was the annoying little brother of her best friend.” He smiles fondly at her sleeping form, and Jungkook feels his chest grow tight. “She used to hate my guts. My friends and I would terrorize her and her friends, pull their ponytails, leave frogs in their backpacks, all the terrible things thirteen-year-old boys would do to pretty girls they were afraid to talk to.”

“No wonder she hated you, Mr. Kim!” Jungkook laughs. “I’m guessing you finally stopped tormenting her if she ended up married to you?” Jungkook points out.

“Yes, yes.” The man chortles fondly as he reminisces. “I finally grew up, and realized that treating her badly was not the way to her heart. A little too late, though. She ended up married to some other punk in the neighborhood. He wisened up a little faster than I did, told her how he felt one winter, and they were married by the time the cherry blossoms bloomed.” He sighs, and Jungkook tilts his head, questioning. “Oh, I was distraught. I couldn’t do anything about it, though, I realized that I missed my chance, busy playing games. I ended up married to one of her friends, and well, we spent the next fifteen years circling each other.”

“Wow, that must’ve been hard to deal with.” Jungkook can’t imagine being in his shoes. Or well, he can, but he doesn’t want to imagine that future for himself. Doesn’t want to see a future where he stands in suit and tie to take wedding photos, and it’s not you next to him in them.

“Oh, I loved her enough, my ex-wife, but I think she always knew deep down that she wasn’t…she wasn’t Min-Ji.” Jungkook can see his hand tighten imperceptibly around his wife’s frail one. “We never had kids, and when I came home from work one day to find her waiting with her things packed...I think I always knew that day would come.”

“So, how did you end up winning over Min-Ji?” Jungkook is intrigued by the man’s story. He doesn’t know what he would do in this situation.

“Oh, I wouldn’t call it that. She was thirty-two with a new-born daughter, and left a widow after the Gwangju Uprising. Her husband was one of the many lost that summer. I was freshly twenty-eight, newly single, with an empty house, and still in love with her. I stepped up as her friend, offering her and her daughter a place to live and slowly we became a family. I asked her to marry me a couple years later and she said yes.” Kim Tae-Woo’s eyes water, and even in the dimly lit room, Jungkook can see the love he has for the woman in front of him. 

“That’s an amazing story, Mr. Kim. I’m glad you found each other.”

“Oh, me too. She’s given me everything I never knew I wanted. Three children and the best forty-three years of my life. She’s my everything.” He turns back to Jungkook, a look on his face that he can’t read. “Do you have someone, Nurse Jeon? Someone you love more than your own life?”

The question throws Jungkook for a loop, because the whole time his patient’s spouse was telling their story, there was only one person who crossed his mind. You. He hesitates to answer, but Mr. Kim was honest with him, and Jungkook is sure that he can be vulnerable with this man, too. 

“Yeah, I think I do.”

—————

“Stop staring at your phone and moping, oh my god.” Yoongi rolls his eyes at your mood, whispering to Leah about how you’re the rain cloud following them around, ready to ruin the wedding tomorrow. 

You glance at the message one last time before locking your phone and stuffing it into your hoodie’s front pocket. 

You hate that you and Jungkook ended the night like you did, even more that he didn’t text you his usual morning text. The thumbs-up emoji haunted your dreams last night, and you barely slept, waking up throughout the night. The bags under your eyes reflect the nightmares, a fact your annoying little brother enjoyed pointing out when they picked you up at 10 AM.

-10 am flashback

“Shush Yoongi!” Leah berated him gently, “need I remind you how you looked after our almost break-up?”

“Hey! I thought we promised never to bring that up again!” Yoongi pouted the whole trip to the wedding venue for the final review of the plans. 

-end

You sit back in the chair, your head facing away from the floor-to-ceiling window of the wedding venue, wishing not for the first (or even second) time that things had gone down differently last night. Sorting through all of your feelings is a lot harder than you thought it would be. Especially with your brother’s looming nuptials while seated in a decorated wedding hall. 

“I’m not moping, jackass.” You pick at non-existent lint on the sleeve of your hoodie before tilting your head back and allowing the hood to fall off. “I just don’t know what to do with myself.”

“We’re almost done. Leah is just dropping off the last of the checks for the vendors, and we are running through the ‘Day-Of’ itinerary one last time with the planner. Then we can grab some lunch, and you can fill us in on the troubles running through that head of yours.”

“Sushi?” You make your eyes big and pout your bottom lip as you turn your head to look your brother in the face. He looks good; his hair is freshly done with an undercut cropped close to his head and the top layers falling in organized, chaotic layers. He has a healthy glow about him that screams ‘happy and in love’, that makes you feel wisps of green envy. His face breaks out into a smile, eyes disappearing in delight. 

“Of course, princess. Whatever you want, if it means you’ll be in a better mood.”

Hearing Yoongi call you ‘princess’ reminds you of Jungkook, and you turn away again, hiding your crestfallen look as Leah walks back into the room with the wedding planner. Yoongi leaves you to join his soon-to-be wife’s side, shaking hands with the wedding planner as they bid her goodbye and motion for you to meet them at the exit. 

Finally supplied with sustenance, you feel a little better as you chew and swallow the tempura-fried shrimp drizzled in spicy aioli sauce. Though that feeling dissipates a bit when Yoongi sets a deliberate gaze on you. 

“Spill it. I know you're moping about Jungkook, but what happened? Do I have to kill him?” he attempts to make you smile, but the joke falls flat with you today. 

“To be honest, it all happened really fast. One second we were good, really good. And then he just kind of shut down and called me a taxi and kicked me out at like 2 AM.”

“Wait, that dickhead kicked you out at 2 AM? I should fucking kill him! What if something had happened to you?” Yoongi’s ears are red and his eyes glint in anger. Leah reaches out a hand to soothe him as you speak quickly to do the same.

“Nothing happened to me. I’m a big girl, Yoongi. I’m pretty sure I said some hurtful things to him, and if the situation was reversed, I would’ve asked him to leave, too. If I had been a little more sober, I probably would’ve left on my own volition instead of getting into an argument.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Leah cuts in tentatively, “you do like Jungkook, right? Like not just as a friend?”

Your face says everything your mouth won’t as you shift in your seat. Leah nods knowingly, and Yoongi takes a deep breath. 

“Okay. You’ve already told Mom and Dad that you’re dating him or whatever, so what’s holding you back from taking that step with him if you like him so much?”

It takes everything in you to not cut your eyes at him. You see Leah cover her mouth; the mirth there doesn’t match the situation, but she can’t help but feel like her very smart and emotionally aware fiance is missing some important social factors. You don’t blame her for the smile, in fact, you welcome it, knowing full well that she gets it.

“What’s holding me back? Maybe that conversation with Mom earlier this week, where she nagged at me for being single and not giving her grandkids, and then when I told her I was seeing someone, she ridiculed Jungkook’s age? Or how about the fact that the stupid goth art teacher talked shit about how young Jungkook was?” You shake your head, defeated. “Everyone judges the relationship between me and Jungkook, before it’s even a relationship. So what happens when it is real?”

“What changed?” Leah’s brows are furrowed, and you can see her mind sorting through the information you’ve given, or lack thereof. “Something must have happened to make what you had going no longer work for either of you, right?”

You decide to trust them both and tell the truth of what happened.

“So after we left the club, we went back to his place since it was late. Taehyung, Jimin, and Hoseok are now fully aware that there’s something between me and Jungkook because he wasn’t exactly subtle. To be fair, I didn’t stop him either, so I guess if I’m being honest, we weren’t exactly subtle. We get back to his place, and it’s business as usual.” Yoongi grimaces as he reaches for his whiskey, downing the entire thing as you skim most of the sex, though a memory surfaces as you let the night replay in your mind. 

“Oh god!” You slap your hands to your face, covering your mouth. “I just remembered…I kind of let slip that I loved him while having sex,” you mumble into your hands, head dropping down in embarrassment. “And then right afterwards he’s receiving a ‘you up?’ text from SoHee—with a fucking topless picture!—and I just lost it. There was an argument, which I honestly can barely remember what was said. We were both so mad, you know?”

“Wow, no wonder you were mad. I’m guessing he didn’t say anything about your confession,” Leah questions, validating your feelings in a way that warms your heart. You definitely think you and your new sister-in-law (as of tomorrow) will get along great.

“No, he didn’t. And it’s not even that he has to say it back or anything, I didn’t say it for that reason, but the fact that we just had—”

“Please don’t say it again!” Yoongi interrupts.

“I wasn’t! Anyways, the fact that we just had such an intimate moment happen, and here comes SoHee texting Jungkook her perky tits asking if he’s awake? I know a booty call text when I see one.” 

“Wait, but you just said SoHee texted it to Jungkook, right?” Yoongi sits back, a quizzical look on his face. “So, he got a text from SoHee and you got jealous. But I’m gonna be that person right now and point out to you that technically, you and Jungkook aren’t together.”

“Yeah, thanks for stating the obvious,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “Anyways, we were in the bathroom,” you think back through the specifics. “His phone went off, and he set it down to dry my hair, and then it went off again. The message lit up his phone, so I saw the text from SoHee.”

“Sis, you know I love you, but I think you’re jumping to conclusions. It sounds like Jungkook was just the recipient of the messages, not necessarily the instigator. Guys can receive unsolicited tit pics just as much as women get dick pics. People just think all men are horny 24/7, but we also can feel uncomfortable in these situations. If we’re at work or start dating someone new, and an old flame sends us a ‘you up’ text or sends nudes? Not to mention, sometimes we just aren’t attracted to the people sending us stuff. It causes issues no one asked for.” 

Yoongi’s eyes show no malice as he speaks a truth you’re upset with yourself for not realizing in that drunken stupor, or even in the light of today. “Jungkook’s hot, you know? He could’ve just been the recipient of unsolicited nudes. He might actually get quite a few that he ignores, because that man is high-key in love with you.” 

“Honestly, I’ve seen you and Jungkook together, and I agree. Who cares what other people think, especially the ones who don’t know either of you well enough and shouldn’t matter enough to sway your happiness with each other.” Leah looks at Yoongi, and he takes her hand gently. “This wedding tomorrow will not be my first one, but it’s the one that matters the most to me. Your brother loves me on a level that I never knew was possible, thanks to my ex, and though our age gap isn’t as big as yours with Jungkook, I’m still older than him. Both of these are things your mom took issue with, but you know your brother.” She looks over to him with a fondness you understand. It’s how you look at Jungkook. “The only thing that matters is what you and Jungkook want. I know it’s not easy, but it’s infinitely worth it.”

By the time Jungkook finishes a sponge-bath and documents the care Min-Ji received during this time, he realizes it’s past the typical lunch time and that the husband has yet to eat. The three children he mentioned live on the other side of the country, but are traveling now to be with their parents. He had hoped they would arrive earlier with the promised food Mr. Kim is waiting for, but Jungkook insists he get something to hold the man over for the time being. He reminds him of which buttons to press to contact the phone in Jungkook’s pocket, then heads to the canteen.

The employees share the cafeteria area with the visiting families of patients, and it is bustling quite a bit as Jungkook exits the elevators straight into the lobby of the cafe. To the left, the room extends into a seating area once past the cashier lines, and Jungkook sees the moment SoHee spots him through the crowd. 

He’s tired of hiding from people—tired of hiding from his feelings, really—so he decides not to run away this time. If SoHee decides to talk about the messages she sent last night, he will address it and let her down easily. They’re still friends, in Jungkook’s mind, so he smiles at her as she approaches him, soft pink scrubs swishing lightly from her quick steps.

“I am so excited about the wedding tomorrow!”

Jungkook can tell; her smile is glowing. Once upon a time, he might’ve been enthralled by it, it’s still a beautiful smile, and it sucks to know that he might be the reason it fades in a few moments.

“Yeah, me too. I actually wanted to talk to you about it.”

“Yes, that’s why I came over here, in fact, so we could finish coordinating and—”

“SoHee, wait.” Jungkook knows he’s being rude, cutting her off, but the longer she stands there, grinning up at him like that, the more his chest feels tight. “I can’t be your date for the wedding.”

As he predicted, the rosy apples of SoHee’s cheeks lower along with her smile as she processes his words.

“I don’t think I understand?” She's polite as she speaks, head quirked to the side as if showcasing her confusion, but Jungkook is no fool to the glint of a woman’s eye as she braces for battle. 

“I know that it took me a lot longer than I promised to get back to you about this, but I’ve only just figured things out myself, and I just don’t want to string you along.”

“What have you been doing then, if not stringing me along?” SoHee crosses her arms across her chest, stance shifting to one of defensiveness. “I’m not trying to be a bitch, Jungkook, but from my point of view, it kind of seems like you’ve been doing exactly what you claim you don’t want to do.”

Jungkook sighs, restraining himself from rolling his eyes at her words and tone. He can’t help but feel that SoHee is being a bit dramatic—it’s not like he was the one who started all this wedding date talk, and he never even agreed to be her date! He did put off turning her down, but she’s the one who texted him to say he didn’t need to feel obligated to take her. And then she sends nudes and a booty-call text message at the worst possible moment last night and wants to get mad at him?

“Look, SoHee, I know that you probably feel like I’m the bad guy in this, but—”

“You’re an asshole, Jungkook.” SoHee’s voice carries a little too well, and other nurses standing nearby tune into the conversation. He really hates public confrontation like this, especially when he didn’t do anything wrong, and yet, here he is dealing with this bullshit.

Jungkook doesn’t mean the words he says in the way that they come out, but he feels cornered. “What do you want me to say, SoHee? ‘I’m sorry that I like somebody else’? Or possibly, I’m sorry that you sending me nudes I never asked for at 2 AM fucked up my relationship?” He probably could’ve said it with a little less attitude, probably should’ve held back from the second example, especially when he sees the way SoHee’s eyes begin to fill with tears as she looks at all of the gawking bystanders. One of the other nurses walks over and places an arm around SoHee’s shoulder, glaring daggers at Jungkook as if willing him to keel over on the glossy linoleum. 

“You really are an asshole, Jeon. Why would you say that to someone, in front of a crowd? You have no tact.” 

Jungkook is about to fire back at the other woman, but a hand on his shoulder reigns him back in despite his blood continuing to boil.

“Janice, why don’t you escort SoHee to the employee lounge for a bit? I’ll have a chat with Jungkook here.”

Frozen eyes sending a final chilling glare, the women disappear as Jungkook finally moves through the cafe line to the cashier, Jin following quietly. He continues to shadow Jungkook as he makes his way back to the palliative care and hospice unit to deliver the food. As he rounds the doorway, he sees that the patient’s adult children have arrived, a few grandchildren as well. 

To his surprise, Min-Ji is awake, but this only makes him worry about what’s to come. He sets the food to the side, greeting the members of Min-Ji’s family as he does a quick check of Min-Ji’s breathing. The pattern appears abnormal—though normal for someone approaching the end of life. He’s glad her family made it in time to see her; he knows that before the day is out, possibly even before his shift ends, she’ll quietly cross the veil.

Jungkook slips back out of the room to give the family some privacy, and to meet with Jin, who he knows is waiting for him. The two men walk to a nearby empty nurses’ desk, and Jungkook waits expectantly for Jin to speak. 

“Well, that went swimmingly.”

“All thanks to you, my friend,” Jungkook responds snidely, “not only is SoHee mad at me, I’m also not talking to You-Know-Who right now because of a pretty serious fight we had last night.”

“Calm down, she’s not Voldemort,” Seokjin snorts out. “But you two fought about something serious?”

“Yeah…She was at my place last night and saw a series of messages from SoHee that included a nude. She kind of went spastic on me, accusing me of requesting the nudes from SoHee after having sex with her because I’m ‘too young’ to behave any differently. I honestly was so angry, I called her a taxi and sent her home.” 

Seokjin blinks at Jungkook dumbfoundedly before speaking. “Maybe if you’d already told our dear friend you’re banging his sister, and then told her that you want to date her, none of this would have even been able to happen.”

“This advice would’ve been better than encouraging SoHee’s imagination,” Jungkook grumbles out, though his voice takes a softer tone when he says your name as he continues, “if she had wanted to date her brother’s youngest friend, I think she would’ve said something by now.”  The condescension towards the age gap is laced through every word. Seokjin ponders his words before speaking his point of view.

“You know, I think that maybe the two of you put too much weight on this age gap. Even now, you’re taking on this submissive role, waiting for her to tell you or make the first move. But let me tell you a little something about women. No matter their age, they want someone who isn’t afraid to want them back. And you, my friend, are shaking in your scrubs.”  

“I’m not scared,” Jungkook instantly defends, but even he can hear the lie whistle through his teeth.

“Then why are you waiting for her to make all the decisions? Why haven’t you had an adult conversation, sat her down, and told her what you wanted for a change?”

“Because I—” Jungkook pauses, unsure of how to answer. In all realness, he is scared. He enjoys what the two of you have going on, and he worries that if he speaks up for what he wants, if he asks you to change the friends-with-benefits status to something real…being incinerated by the sun after being lit on fire by jet engine fuel would hurt less than the hypothetical rejection he fears. 

Seokjin just gives him a knowing look, his eyes soft with empathy for his younger friend's dilemma. “Just talk to her. Show her you want her, and not just in a friends-with-benefits way.” He once again gives Jungkook that knowing look. “Tomorrow is the perfect opportunity to clear the air. Everyone loves a good wedding.”

“Except SoHee is also going to be there.”

Seokjin curses lowly under his breath and is about to say more when Jungkook’s phone begins to emit a shrill tone for attention. The two men silently make their way back to Min-Ji’s room, knowing that if the phone is ringing, it’s not for any good reason.

It’s been a long day full of revelations. The long talk with your brother and his soon-to-be wife has left you feeling drained and empty. Sitting on your couch, you open up the app to order food from your favorite takeout place barely a block away. Carelessly, you reorder the last meal you placed before slumping backwards into the plush cushions. 

Now that you’ve ordered, you really wish you had chosen delivery, like the lazy ass you want to be, but it’s not that far from your place. You close your eyes for what feels like a moment, but an alert jerks you out of the light slumber you’d slipped into. Your food is ready to be picked up. Sighing, you rock back then forward to lift yourself from the sunken spot on your comfortable couch and shrug on Jungkook’s hoodie for the trek. 

The weather teases a light rainfall, the petrichor scent enveloping you as you quicken your steps through the glass door of the establishment. Approaching the counter, the cashier recognizes you and pulls your order—two plastic bags with a brown paper bag inside each full of steaming hot food.

Checking the receipt stapled to the first bag, you see that you’ve accidentally ordered twice as much food; your last placed order was a meal for two, and the extra food? Jungkook’s favorite dishes from here. With resignation, you grab both bags, attempting to balance them on each forearm and use your foot to push open the door, but the door swings open as a man with an umbrella steps through. 

Jungkook says your name as if it's a curse and a prayer, sidestepping back onto the sidewalk to hold the door for you to exit. You thank him, fully intending to keep walking past him, but he follows you instinctively. 

“Let me help,” he says, his hand reaching out to grab one of the bags, and like muscle memory, you allow it, both of you walking in tandem until you reach your place. Unlocking the front door, he follows you in if only to set down the bag, but you stop him with a hand to his wrist before he can leave. 

“I, uh, accidentally ordered your favorites when I rushed my last reorder. You can have it, if you want. I can’t eat all of this.”

Jungkook just shrugs, and you finally notice how he looks. It’s not good—well, he always looks good; he can pull off anything. It’s more so that he doesn’t look well; his face is pale, eyes listless and devoid of any joy, parts of his face a bright red from being picked at. It’s one of his habits you’re well aware of, like when he bites his nails when nervous. Reaching into the bag, you lift out the container and pass it to him along with napkins and utensils. Taking the food from you, he steps into your living room, plopping down onto your couch as if muscle memory has taken over, he takes off the lid and begins the motions of eating the meal.

Your own thoughts are racing, unsure of what to do or say, so you just say nothing, instead pouring two glasses of water and delivering them to the coffee table before going back for your food. You end up sitting on the smaller couch, the corner closest to where he sits on the larger couch. The room fills with the sounds of you eating, an awkwardness that never used to be there lingering in the air. Your eyes flit from your food to Jungkook’s slow movements, so after you swallow your most recent bite, you take a sip of water before speaking.

“Is everything okay, Jungkook?” The urge to call him ‘baby’—to cuddle him to you and comfort him—is strong, but you resist.

His hand moves the food around a bit, and you watch him as he gathers himself to reply. It feels like hours, but he finally looks at you. “Yeah, I just had a really hard case today. It was a hospice patient, and I spent most of the day with her husband. Well, second husband—but the love of her life, I’m sure.” 

“Oh,” you don’t know what to say; you’re not really sure what made the case so hard, so you wait for Jungkook to elaborate.

“They, uh, knew each other for a long time, since they were kids, you know? But he was the younger brother of her best friend, and she married someone else before he worked up the courage to pursue her. He ended up married to one of her friends instead, but she left him. He said his first wife knew that no one could compete with the girl he actually loved. So when the first husband died in the Gwangju Uprising, leaving her a single mom with a small baby, he stepped in to provide them with a place to live and just help out, but they ended up together eventually and they have a big family.” Jungkook’s eyes look back at his food, a bit teary. “I met their kids and grandkids. They arrived right before she—” he clears his throat, but a small tear sneaks down his cheek.

You reach out for him, pulling the food from his hands and placing it on the table. You scoot closer to him, taking his hands into yours as he looks down at where the two of you connect. He sniffles, trying to stabilize his voice before he continues with his story.

“They arrived right before she passed. She’d been asleep the whole time I was there with her husband, but once everyone arrived, she woke up and was talking to them all, told them she loved them one last time, and then she just…slipped away. I don’t think I can ever forget the sound her husband made as he cried.”

“Oh, Jungkook…” unable to bear it, you join him on the same couch, holding him close to you as he cries. Your own eyes are wet; something about this couple’s story resonates with you after everything that you’ve experienced today.

“I can’t imagine going through that,” Jungkook says with a wobbly voice. “Losing the person that you love the most in the world? I mean, he almost avoided having to go through this, she married someone else! And the chance comes around for him to be with her and he takes it, but the way he cried when he lost her…I’m not sure it’s worth it in the end.” 

His words cut like a knife to your heart. You want to remind him of the good that he told in the story, how the couple had a large family, how the wife was surrounded by the evidence of their love when she died. How the man taking that second chance meant a single mom and her baby had a better life—that anguish he felt when he lost her was because they shared a love like no other. To you, it’s always worth it. 

Instead of saying what you want to say, you ask him what he needs. And those beautiful teary eyes look up at you and he whispers one word; “You,” and you’re unable to say no to him. Not when his lips meet yours with a desperation that you can’t begin to decipher, not when his hands pull you closer, and he clings to you like a lifeline, and definitely not when he sighs out your name against your lips, as if the simple utterance fills him with solace and relief of all that ails him.

His strong hands relieve you of your clothing as his lips remain fervently attached to yours. You relish in the feel of him as your naked form meets his own body, skin to skin, while he lays you back onto the couch. His kiss leaves you dazed; you have no idea how long it took for you both to end up naked, and by the time the question is flying through your mind, Jungkook is already nestled between your thighs, his cock hard and throbbing pressed against your lower stomach and your ankles crossed at his lower back.

When he pulls away slightly—reaching to line himself up with your slick opening—you bite his bottom lip where it was resting against your own, and the sensation causes him to surge his hips forward, fucking himself deep inside you. The intrusion is orgasmic, stretching you to a fullness you only experience when he doesn’t take time to prep you. Jungkook is needy, fraught with a raw emotion he can’t yet put words to, but his body can.

With each stroke, he finds comfort, the grip of your walls building the friction to a pleasurable high that he wants to drown in. Is there anything better to ease his mind than to be buried inside of you? He knows you're close, can feel the way you quicken—hurtling towards climax as you dig your nails into his back and cry out his name. Your body wrapped around him brings him a level of peacefulness that allows his mind to empty and his heavy cock to release thick spurts of cum until you're full and leaking around his softening member. 

You lay underneath him, holding him close as his chest rises and falls, and he peppers kisses along your shoulder. His movements are slow and you can feel the effects of the day taking over and pulling him into sleep. He slides his body so that the two of you are back to front, him curling around you as the big spoon. He grasps the blanket you keep across the top of the couch and attempts to cover you both, but you take over for him. 

He drops his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest as he kisses the back of your head once more. 

“I’m sorry, Princess,” he mutters before he’s softly snoring, and you lay there in his embrace, contemplating what his apology could be for. 

Was he apologizing for sending you home last night? For that thumbs up he sent that ruined your day? Because he feels bad that he only made you cum once after using your body to make himself feel better?  It’s only when you’re about to drift off that you remember his words about his patient, and your mind wonders if his apology is telling you sorry because he can’t give you what you want the most. Himself.

stay tuned for “i’ll be loving you right, seven days a week” coming 9-?-2023!

↣all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2023. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

[ariundercovers]

Choke on It - Dark!Joel Miller x Reader

Pairing: Dark!Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: (AFAB reader) takes place post-TLOU. They’re both members of the Jackson community, often put on patrols together. Reader has a penchant for destruction and rage, especially in the face of self-preservation. Sometimes, they just want to be able to let go.

Word Count: ~2.8k

Warnings: explicit 18+ graphic depictions of sex and violence. dubcon, choking, breath play, degradation, skull fucking, spitting, forced blowjobs, idk. It’s dark. Kinda a hate fuck? They like each other tho. Semi-established/FWB situation.

a/n: PLEASE HEED WARNINGS. Joel is not a nice man. Y’all, its dark again. Please heed the warnings. Maybe this is where I live now. (No, I don’t – I’ll never get enough of writing fluffy Din fics.) Not a lot of plot. Mostly porn. At least partial credit for this one goes to @ezras--moon! We had a blast working on a VERY similar scene with two other characters, and I woke up this morning with thots, so I needed it to be full-length.

Enjoy, you filthy animals.

This fucking woman.

She was one of the most vicious and notorious members of the patrol in Jackson: the first one they sent out when there were murmurings of a group of raiders, or big trouble past the walls. And he was fucking infatuated by her – always had been. From the day he met her – all grumpy eyes and deep mistrust – something in him always drew him to her.

He looked over at her on the horse just a few meters beside him, sunset framing the shape of her face from behind. It could’ve been one of those super expensive pictures in a museum, he thought. A fucking Michelangelo, or a Bernini, or whoever those old famous artists were that they learned about in high school. Hadn’t thought about them in at least two or three decades, probably wouldn’t think about them again.

The two of them were peas in a pod, really. They ran on the same wavelength – self-preservation, protecting the ones they held close, and a total lack of trust for anyone outside of their inner circle. Joel was all too happy to lean into it, lean into whatever this was with her, especially now with the way that Ellie looked at him like she hated him – his last lifeline connecting him to something more human, severed. She was the last thing for him to grapple onto that gave him any sense of human connection outside of his brother. He took every patrol he could with her, every task in Jackson that would allow him to work near her, with her, in earshot of her, in view of her.

He was a goner, really. That stupid little perfect ass of hers, the way her lips puckered when she spoke. The curve of her breast, the way the scars littered her stupid, perfect face. The devious look in her eye when they went on patrol, when she got herself in trouble – and then, of course, the way she killed things: infected, clickers, raiders, without even the slightest hesitation. The way she shot her rifle without batting an eyelash, sunk a dagger into her enemy’s eye socket without a second thought. The way she let herself just kill, with reckless abandon.

Oh, and kill, she did.

There’s a glint in her eyes that he catches sometimes – it’s fierce, brutal, kind of like the fire he can watch travel under her skin at the smallest hint of danger ahead. It’s like watching lightning strike a tree – explosive, frightening. It all plays a part in why Joel just couldn’t keep her out of his mind. Her presence was all-consuming to him in a way that he couldn’t manage to slip out of. He was bound up in her talons like a falcon’s prey.

It’s her voice – not Joel’s -  that eventually fractures the silence between them as they move along their scheduled patrol route.

“Sun’s almost down, we should set up camp for the night. I’ll take first watch, you get some rest.”

He glanced over at her, intrigued. Even the way she commanded things to him – something he wouldn’t take for a second from anyone else – thrilled him. A spark shot down between his legs as he thought about taking that from her, shutting her up and making her follow his own rules, instead.

Their camp for the night is just an outcropping of stone with a few closely spaced trees – they’ve used it before. It’s a small fire and a couple sleeping bags and a flask of Tommy’s shitty home-grown alcohol, held tight to his chest. It’s the silhouette of her damn gorgeous body on display for him, lit up by the flames, just for his viewing pleasure. “I know you’re awake, Joel. Stop staring and go the fuck to sleep.”

How could he possibly sleep? He was too busy thinking up all the ways he could touch her and disassemble her right now.

“Can’t just do that, darlin’.” His voice is gravelly when it comes out, partially due to lack of sleep and partially due to the arousal he’s been trying to fend off since they started their patrol this morning.

“Yeah, you can, Joel. Shut the hell up and close your fuckin’ eyes.” The eye roll she gives him is magnificent – makes him suppress a chuckle in the back of his throat. He sits up, glaring at her, and he slides sideways out of his sleeping bag.

“Now why the fuck would I do that, sweetheart, when you’re jus’ sittin’ there lookin’ good enough to eat? When I could be using that perky little body of yours for whatever I wanted?” His words are laced with something salty-spicy-sweet, cutting her deep while he praises her, catching her off guard.

She blinks back at him a few times, taken aback by his forwardness. He’d never been this direct before – she always had to coax it out of him, convince him it was a good idea, that they should let off some steam with each other every once in a while.

It was threatening. And thrilling.

He stands, slowly, and his movements are labored now that those joint just don’t work the way they used to anymore, but his eyes are back on hers in an instant, glaring daggers right into her soul. She’s sitting on a downed tree a few feet from the fire, and as he stalks his way around it to breech her personal space, she can’t help but recognize the gushing feeling between her legs. This was a different Joel than the one that usually came on patrols with her – a kind of Joel that she always thought he had in him, but he’d never let himself show.

“Yeah, Joel? Not sure you have it in you to make that happen.” She doesn’t move from her spot, perched on the edge of the log with a rifle strewn across her lap. Her eyes stay trained on his, not backing down even an inch, and her body stays relaxed, calculated – unafraid. The taunt is deliberate, teasing the waters of whatever this version of Joel was willing to put up with.

The toes of Joel’s boots click against her own and he crouches down in front of her, eyes still trained on one another with snipers’ gazes.

“That a challenge? I don’t think you wanna challenge me right now, darlin’. I’m feelin’ all kinds of ways about that mouth ‘a yours.” Her eyes narrow at him and she stands, slowly, dropping the rifle into one hand.

“Real cocky for a half-deaf almost senior citizen with two bad knees and a fuckin’ savior complex.” His hand jolts out before his brain has a chance to choose otherwise, wrapping around her neck instantaneously and squeezing – not enough to completely cut off her air supply, but enough to make her feel it. Her hand that’s not on the rifle comes up to claw at his forearm.

“Fuckin’ watch it, sweetheart. I am not in the mood.”

She blinks back at him and smirks, still cocky even with the hand wrapped around her throat starting to squeeze tighter with each passing moment. “Do your fucking worst, Joel. You. Don’t. Scare. Me.”

The chuckle that comes out of his throat is dark – maybe even sinister. His eyes narrow at her and he inches himself closer until their noses are almost touching.

“My worst, sweetheart? You’re gonna regret that. Almost feel sorry for your fuckin’ throat.” He uses his grip on her neck to push her down, dropping her hard onto her knees as she looks up at him with hooded lids. Releasing her throat, he runs his hand through her hair before fisting it in the locks tied up at the crown of her head. He uses the leverage to yank her head backward at an uncomfortable angle that throws her off balance – she’d fall right over if he let go right now.

A wicked smirk comes over his face as he reaches down with his free hand and unbuckles his belt, then his pants, pulling out his already hard, leaking cock. Her eyes widen just slightly, always a bit shocked by the size of it, and he uses the grip in her hair to inch her mouth closer to the tip.

“Open your fuckin’ mouth, sweetheart. Couldn’t keep it closed a minute ago.” He pushes the tip just past her lips and she lets her jaw drop, taking him in as his width stretches the muscles in her jaw.

He’s not kind about it – he slams her head down onto his cock so hard she’s sputtering and gagging at the bottom end, no chance to adjust to his size. The hair in his hand becomes the reins he uses to rock himself into her at a violent pace. Her hands instinctively rest at his thighs, nails biting into the jean-clad flesh as she gags and chokes at every thrust. He pulls her off him and watches as her saliva remains in strands – connecting her to him even while she isn’t touching, running down her chin like she just bathed in it. Her breath comes out in pants, trying to catch it before he makes his next move.

This was what he was aching for, he just didn’t know it until he had it in his hands. Needed to see her this fucking wrecked because of him, messy and broken. He’d break her more tonight – this was just a crack in the outer shell. Letting out a quick puff of air, his smile is sinister when he offers her his next command.

“Deep fuckin’ breath, darlin’.”

He watched her take a few short breaths and then a particularly large one. At the top end of it, when he could see that her chest cavity was full, he forced her mouth back down onto him as far as she can go, holding it tight to his pelvis so she couldn’t move.

“20 seconds, now.”

The nickname sears her as she blinks back the salty tears that start to fall without her permission. Her nose is buried in his pubic hair and the cock in her throat is so deep she can’t swallow, can’t even gag, really, and definitely can’t breathe. She has no other choice but to hold her breath while she’s locked onto his cock like this. Her grip on his thighs increases as the tears in her eyes start streaming more steadily.

And then, finally, he starts counting.

“1… 2… 3…” His grip on her hair is legitimately bruising – skin stretched over her skull to the point of pain. It’s like he’s ripping the back of her skull off while simultaneously pushing her down and it makes the gears spin in her brain faster than she can process them.

“6… 7… 8…” She looks up to him and his eyes are locked on hers. If she could form a coherent thought in her brain right now beyond breathe, breathe, breathe, she’d realize he was watching her closely – the way she flinches, how her throat spasms around him, the twitching of her body as she struggled for oxygen he so expertly deprived her of.

“12… 13… 14…” He’s not rocking his hips into her mouth, luckily – at least not yet. He’s just holding steady, actively pushing in with his hips and his hand in such a way that it made it impossible for her to get any semblance of relief.

“18… 19… 20.” He yanks her head back from his cock and she sputters around him, gagging as he finally pulls himself from her throat. Her muscles spasm and contract from the abuse, breath shaky and panicked. Coughing, her lungs burn as they fill back up with air, and she’s not sure what’s saliva and what’s saline tears on her face anymore.

“Another one, darlin’. Breathe.” Joel watches closely while the muscles of her neck expand and contract, waiting to see that big breath he needed her to take. At the peak of it, he pulled her hard onto his cock again, burying her nose into his pelvis bone, even a fraction deeper this time, and starts to count.

“1… 2… 3…” She was just so damn pretty with so many tears rolling down her face - eyelashes clumped together, face a shiny mess of bodily fluids. He watched the way her eyes were getting redder as the tears came more freely this second round, enraptured by the way they turned bloodshot, illuminated by the warm glow of the campfire.

It was just so lovely.

“9… 10… 11… 12…” This time, he started rocking his hips now, pushing a bit deeper where he could. Strategically, he thrusted only about an inch at a time – still deep enough to cut off her airway completely but giving him the satisfaction of fucking into her throat at the same time.

“18… 19… 20.” In truth? This was like watching a star explode around his cock - this usually powerful, dominant, no-fucks-to-give woman with a penchant for violence and decimation everywhere she went reduced to rubble in his hands, putty on his cock. He ripped her head back off of him once more and groaned at the way she sputtered out immediately, coughing as tendrils of saliva broken splashed back and forth onto his dick from her mouth, chin, and neck.

“Breathe, darlin’. So fucking beautiful for me. You’re such a fuckin’ whore, so wrecked on this cock.” She caught her breath, a panicked look in her bloodshot eyes as she met his again, holding a hand to her throat. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, ‘m not gonna make you do that again.”  He squeezed her jaw tight in one hand, letting go of her hair with the other. Fingers dug into her cheeks, he could feel her teeth through the thick flesh as he pinched her cheeks together, as her hands scrambled up to cling to his wrist, pleading for him to stop, to keep going, to move faster, for something. She didn’t even know what.

“You did alright. Gonna make you count to 30 for me next time, though.” He steps up toward her and spits on her face, her eyes and mouth wide open as his saliva makes contact and mixes with her own. He rubs it in roughly with his free hand and pushes her away. Off balance, she falls back onto her heels, and she turns over onto her hands and knees as she continues to heave and cough, spitting on the ground below. He crouches over her again, his chest now inches frond her back, and he whispers darkly.

“Gonna fuck you like the whore you are, now.”

A shaky breath catches in her throat as she composes herself before lifting her head and turning it back to him, meeting his eyes while still trying to heave breaths back into her lungs. She smiles wickedly, teeth bared. That glint is in her eye that gets him every time.

“Do your fuckin’ worst, Joel."

[kiwisa]

stupid love ✩ lh44

Lewis Hamilton x Fem! FWB! Reader

angst • 600 words

IN WHICH... you're so fucking stupid for thinking this thing between you could've been more.

If someone had told you three months ago that you’d be in love with Lewis Hamilton, you would’ve laughed.

Lewis Hamilton, the man you had considered for years as one of your friends. The one you grew up with, who saw you cry, smile, laugh. The one who had accompanied you in both the best and worst moments of your life.

The one who shared your bed now almost every night, when the urge was too strong and no one else could satisfy him quickly enough.

You were always the closest geographically, apparently. He told you so himself.

“It’s more convenient,” he had said. “And it’s not like guys are queuing at your door. No risk of being disturbed,” his words still resonated: hurtful, mocking.

You’d rather think he didn’t mean them.

A simple agreement, nothing else. That, too, he had made it clear. A simple convenience. Just fucking. None of this “making love” bullshit. Pure carnal pleasure. No feelings. At least there should have been none. Perhaps the most important point of his speech.

“I hope you don’t expect anything else. And, let’s be honest, I would not see myself as your boyfriend.”

He had laughed, saying that. That laugh that would haunt you for the rest of your life. That innocent laugh, the exact opposite of his words, pitiless. As always, you had simply nodded, preferring to enjoy his body warmth than to think about whether or not he truly meant it. The sensation of his skin against yours had the gift of making you forget everything.

It was your favourite moment. Too bad it was also the shortest.

He never stayed the night. Sometimes he’d go to see another girl. Other times, he would go home, leaving you alone, naked, vulnerable in a cold and empty bed.

Lewis Hamilton was odious. There was nothing left of that nice man you had once called your friend. Instead, a stranger addicted to lust was there, and his heart seemed to have been exchanged for the hardest of stones.

However, if Lewis Hamilton was odious, you, Y/N L/N, were stupid.

All those words, these gestures, which blackened and broke your heart piece by piece, should have made you leave. You could have freed yourself from this agreement months ago without coming out more broken than you already were.

But no, you’d rather go on, you preferred to destroy yourself mentally so you could feel Lewis’s lips against yours. You’d rather live in that illusion. And now your stupid heart would stupidly accelerate at the sight of that stupid smile, the one that warmed your stupid and treacherous cheeks.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

This was stupid, so were you. What was even more stupid was this crack, so noisy, so painful, that split your heart in half, leaving it to fall at your feet.

Tears silently rolled down your cheeks, your hands curled up against your chest to protect you from the pain, from him.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Why did you say that? Why didn’t you shut your stupid mouth? Why?

“Oh my god, I told you not to fall in love with me. Look where we are now… Fuck… You hurt yourself by doing this, and we have to put an end to… this. Yeah, we’re over. If you had listened to me, we could’ve avoided this bullshit and we could’ve fuck like we always do,” he had replied.

The door slammed, but your sobs masked the noise.

✩ taglist !

@sad1esgf @muglermami @i0veless @16solace @kenanlotus0 @till1am @itsnotgray @lilsiz @starkwlkr @missflobelova @mehrmonga @fxllfaiiry @crimeshowjunkie @anicega @kosmosgalore @lovemarvel16 @charles-dimple @hiding-behindmy-glasses @exatse @serenityleah @flowerchild-96 @hopiiex @ivegotparticulartaste @jivas0 @screechingtrashkid @gxp30 @lauren--maex @almostjollypizza @sunfairyy @scuderialavender @f1version @motorsp0rt @xoxmariaxox

[box-of-roses]

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:Casual :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

Pairing: Saeko x Fem! Reader

Words: 699

Synopsis: You ended your fwb relationship and go to a bar to mourn the loss of the friendship. You meet a pretty bartender who listens to your woes and offers you solace. After the bar closes she takes you to her house and you watch movies as she comforts you.

Going to a bar might not have been the best decision. What else were you to do though? You had just ended your relationship, if you could even call it that. It wasn’t so much a relationship as a way to break your own heart. 

You sit down at the bar and put your head in your hands. The bartender comes up to you fairly quickly. It is only 1 in the afternoon, the bar is pretty empty. “What brings you here? Anything I can help you with?” She asks and that’s when you finally get to look at her. She’s beautiful- not what you should be thinking about right now. 

“I don’t know, I’ll take anything really.” You sigh dejectedly.

“Seems like you don’t need to find answers in a shot glass. You need someone to talk to.” She smiles kindly at you. “Who better than a stranger you’ll probably never see again.” She instead gives you a glass of water with some ice in it and some fries. 

“I ended one of my friendships. It needed to be done, it was really tiring.” She nods at you to keep going. “I decided it would be smart to get into a friends with benefits relationship with someone I had a crush on. Spoiler alert; not a good idea.” You take a sip of your water and play with the straw. “It was inevitable it was going to end badly. When has that situation ever ended well?”

“It’s hard to say how things will go. I’ve definitely had my fair share of awkward and tiring experiences.” She laughs and steals a fry off your plate. 

You scrunch your nose at her. “Hey! Those are mine!” 

“Technically, my employee discount paid for those.” She smiled and leans her head on her fist. Were her eyes always this pretty? You shake your head. You needed to get yourself together. Now was not the time to be ogling a bartender you didn’t even know the name of. 

Probably for the best. Strangers made it so much easier to tell your problems to. 

“Fair enough,” you say with a laugh. 

“So, tell me more about what’s got you so upset.” 

“It’s mostly the attachment of it all. Their mom invited me to her house on multiple occasions cause she thought we were dating. I didn’t have the heart to tell her. I literally had clothes at his house because he wanted me to stay the night so often.” You sigh again and eat more fries. 

Eventually though, the topic shifts from your ex? If you could call him that- to your life. The things that make you happy. You let her talk about herself too of course. You learned she had a brother in high school who she was incredibly proud of. She went on about him for a while.

The two of you never used names. Her shift was close to ending soon but neither of you wanted to stop talking. “Do you want to go back to my house? Completely PG promise!” She says a little nervously. You smile and nod. As she closed up you gather your purse and pull out a twenty. You hand it to her as you leave.

 “Now you’re making me feel like an escort.” That causes both of you to howl out with laughter. 

“I literally spent your entire shift talking to you! It’s your tip for being such a good bartender!” You say between laughs. Once the two of you reach her apartment she leads you inside and takes your coat to put away. 

“Movie and ice cream?” 

“Sounds great.” You put on the house slippers and head over to the couch. You pull the blanket on top of you. She comes back and hands you a tub of ice cream and sets her own down on the table as she crawls under the blanket too. 

By the end of the night your numbers are in each other’s phones. Names simply ‘Bartender Cutie’ and ‘Bar Babe’ one day you would share names but for now you both find comfort in the anonymity.

Maybe going to that bar was the best decision you could’ve made.

This is unfortunately the last fic in my pride series. I have finished my Y/N Woman Kisser Agenda and can now rest. No but seriously I hope you guys liked this little series thing I did. My requests are open though I should warn you again I go through them like really slowly!!

taglist: @nnnyxie @sanaexus

masterlist

rules

[piedpiperslists]

Jungkook One Shots (LXIII)

* s - contains smut

Obviously by @ugh-yoongi wc~3.7k / secret relationship, roommates au

about u by @ugh-yoongi s wc~7.3k / angst, exes au Summary: This song is about a love that you can’t reconcile—wanting to make a home out of a person that has proved to you time and again that they are not a home; they are just a person. It’s about retracing scars, negative patterns, all with the silent belief that moments of communion and understanding might justify months of misfiring and regret. We’re all just trying to get back to that ‘first high’ feeling—an honest endeavor, however futile.

The Bane of Your Existence by @oddinary4bts s wc~2.6k / angst, FWB, college au Summary: “You really were the worst thing to ever happen to me. I mean that.” + “It could’ve been worse. We could’ve fallen in love.” + “It’s hot when you talk back.”

King of Hotels by @bangtanstanst wc~4.1k / established relationship, idol au Summary: Shall we play a game?

Strawberry Boy by @bubmyg wc~2.7k / friends to lovers Summary: “Promise?” “Pinky promise.”

Plastic Yellow Eggs by @bubmyg wc~2.9k / friends to lovers, fake marriage Summary: “…did we?”

Clink by @bonvoyagenoona s wc~4.1k / exes au, PWP Summary: You’d spent years with Jungkook. It’s been years since you’ve last seen Jungkook. You’ve never seen him quite like this.

Rum Raisin by @lemonyko0 s wc~3.6k / established relationship Summary: You find someone else’s lipstick in your boyfriends car, and he makes sure you know you’re his.

Tongue Technology by @ki-yomii s wc~2.2k / ft MYG, boyfriend!Yoongi, PWP Summary: Yoongi teaches Jungkook how to eat out his girl.

[...] Sugar Plums & Red Bums by @thatlongspringnight s wc~12.6k / established relationship, PWP Summary: When life gets too hectic, trust that Jungkook knows just how to help you relax…and trust that you know just how to reward him. Or, a story of how he gets put on the nice AND naughty list, all at once.

[minologistt]

DEVOTION | JJK mini-series

in which jungkook is your friends with benefits who confessed his love for you and spends a week trying to prove his love to you.

genre fwb -> lovers

warnings more lowkey rejection, implied stalking

tag list -> @mochminnie

S.LIST

TUESDAY

the sound of train tracks were muffled, people snoring and babies crying were all you could hear. you were sat in silence trying to wrap your head around your current predicament.

yeah, you have been actively ignoring his text messages since monday night but you weren’t going to deny that you did feel a flutter when he took you to dinner. maybe you were just hungry and him paying for the meal was what caused that light fluffy feeling.

as you continue to think over the even you hear a tap at a window but you don’t pay any attention until you finally look up after the 4th tap. a shocked expression was planted upon your face.

there he was. the man you’ve been dreading to see since last night. jeon jungkook was hanging off the side of the train as he was struggling a bit to hang on.

he’s a maniac! a true lunatic!!

he seemed to be singing his heart out while he hung on for dear life. you rolled your eyes and moved from your seat. you tried making you way to another car but it seems as though jungkook had quickly made his way to the door and was waiting there as if he wasn’t swinging off a train mere seconds ago.

“jesus christ koo, you could’ve died just now!” you raised your voice. it seemed he wasn’t listening because he grabbed your hand as he moved passed you.

“so where are you going? you’ve been dodging my texts all day and i didn’t see you at your normal spot this morning,” jungkook rambled a bit as he sat down in an empty seat row. he pulled you down beside him and put an arm over your shoulders.

“how did you get here jk..?” you had an eyebrow raised and arms crossed over your chest. “actually i don’t wanna know, but i’m on my way home from a long case.”

“whaat, i could’ve taken you with my car ya know! you never told me about this case either..” his big eyes searched your face for god knows what.

“i don’t need to tell you that koo, it’s not your concern..” you shrugged his arm off your shoulder and shockingly he let it slide off. your heart felt like it was going to explode if he kept his arm there but things are always too good to be true. his hand landed on your thigh and rubbed lightly against the soft fabric of your pants.

“you don’t have to but i like knowing things about you..” he pouted and laid his head upon you shoulder.

“you’re so nosy for someone who isn’t my man.. jeez,”

“so let me be your man!”

a few people glanced over which in turn caused you to try and hide yourself using jungkooks large figure.

“koo you’re so loud, people are looking..!” you whisper-yelled.

“so what? i’d rather let everyone know i want you than hide it.” he smiled and kissed your forehead.

“you’re impossible.. just go away okay,”

“i’ll go away if you come with me—“

“that defeats the purpose! fuck off already kook.”

“love you more”