#drabble fanfiction
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Drabble/One-shot Inspo Check-in!
I’m feeling super inspired to write for any CE Babe! Are there any prompts/asks that yall have been wanting to read for a while?
(Send me to me, Rachel 🙏🏼)
Important Note: These would all have some kind of smut/slight smut unless otherwise stated in individual warnings!
Angry!Ransom x Reader(Princess) Ask Answered
#steve rogers fanfiction#Mel asks#Mel drabbles#ari levinson fanfiction#ransom drysdale fanfiction#Frank Adler fanfiction#curtis everett fanfiction#Nick gant fanfiction#Drabble fanfiction#chris evans imagines#chris evans fanfiction
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
**NEW DRABBLE** Vicissitude
Vicissitude
Summary: Late nights and coping. Read on AO3.
#sesskag#sesshoumaru#kagome#sesshomaru#inuyasha#sesskag fanfiction#inuyasha fanfiction#drabbles#drabble#drabble fiction#drabble fanfiction
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
It’s the first time Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley sees you cry that something in him changes profoundly. You had always had your different skill sets out on the field, it was what made you such a powerful duo for the task force. You were sly, agile, a killer in the dark and he was a brute show of force and strength, able to kill with his bare hands. You argued a lot, though. Your differences that made you work so well also made you clash time and time again. He found you annoying. You found him arrogant.
But after a mission, Ghost finds you collapsed on the floor in an empty building— Crying. He’d never seen you do that before, but he knew you were a softer more sensitive soul, you were just good at hiding it.
He was moving before he realised it, crouching down in front of you, eyes narrowed as he tried to find your gaze that was lost in a heap of warm tears. His hands got clammy and his throat dry because how could he make it stop? It was like the sight had reached in and seized a part of him long gone, maybe one he’d never found before now.
��Stop crying.” He said foolishly, but his tone had lost its usual edge, and the very rare lilt of pleading had laced into his voice. Why did he suddenly grab your shoulders and press your trembling body into his? He had no clue but he wanted to shield you from whatever had made you look so vulnerable before him.
A part of him didn’t like seeing this, didn’t recognise the garbled sound of soft sobs, the way your body’s strength seemed to evaporate into a fragile, soft one that he wanted to pick up and put back together. Another part of him was sucking in this moment, afraid it would get lost and maybe feeling a bit guilty about it. But this feeling of… was it protection? Protection, yes. He’d never had it like this before. Usually, protecting means killing and hurting. Right now it meant nurturing as your small hands reached around his neck and you curled into him. He reacted immediately, sitting down and scooping you into his lap.
He closed his eyes, his chin resting on your head with a sigh. He had no idea what came next. This had to change your dynamic in some way because he couldn’t ever look at you the same. He saw your softness and maybe he fell in love with it right there, and wanted to be the one you showed it to. Only him.
“Im sorry” You whispered into his chest. His hands flexed around you, fighting the urge to smother you even more against him.
“Dont say that. Just keep holding onto me.” His voice was more hoarse than usual as his fingers unconsciously combed through your hair.
Whatever had happened, he was sure you felt it too, or you would’ve never let him this close. And he wished for everything you would let him again one day.
pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4
#simon riley drabble#simon riley x y/n#simon riley hcs#simon riley imagine#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon riley smut#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost Riley smut#simon ghost Riley fic#simon Riley fanfiction#simon Riley angst#ghost x you#ghost smut#ghost cod#ghost x reader#ghost#ghost angst#ghost fanfiction#ghost call of duty#cod x reader#cod mwii#cod mw2#cod#task force 141#task force x reader#tf 141#itsoutrageouss
9K notes
·
View notes
Text
simon is one of the girls (sort of)
boyfriend!simon was always invited to girls’ night—not out of obligation, but because everyone genuinely wanted him there. he fit into the group effortlessly, his quiet, protective presence becoming a staple at every gathering. whether it was lounging around in pajamas with face masks on or heading out for a wild night at the club, boyfriend!simon was part of the plan.
if it was girls’ night, boyfriend!simon was there. need someone to open a bottle of wine? he had it uncorked in seconds. carrying heavy bags for a night in? already done. if the group was heading to the club, simon was always the first to volunteer to drive everyone home safely at the end of the night.
boyfriend!simon never overstepped, but he wasn’t a silent bystander, either. when conversations got lively, he’d chime in with the perfect sarcastic remark or sly observation, earning a mix of giggles and mock glares. and when a topic turned to relationship drama, he always gave it to you and your friends straight.
“dump the bloke,” he’d say bluntly, not even looking up from his drink. “if i hear his name one more time, i’m blocking his number myself.”
your friends always groaned, but soon enough, they started messaging him directly for advice.
out on the town, boyfriend!simon was the designated protector. no one had to ask—he was always at the edge of the group, watching for anything suspicious. he made sure no one lingered too close, and if someone tried to chat up one of your friends unwantedly, simon’s presence alone was enough to send them packing. if they didn’t get the hint, simon would step forward, voice low and deadly calm: “you’ve got somewhere else to be, mate.” that always did the trick.
despite his intimidating size, boyfriend!simon never felt out of place during your quiet nights in. he sat comfortably among blankets and pillows, scrolling on his phone as face masks dried and reality tv droned in the background. your friends teased him mercilessly about it, but he didn’t mind.
“you’re basically one of us now, si,” one of them joked once.
he gave a small shrug, not looking up. “just don’t expect me to paint my bloody nails, yeah?”
with boyfriend!simon around, you and your friends could relax fully, knowing he’d take care of everything—from heavy bags to creeps at the bar. he wasn’t just there for you—he was there for everyone you cared about, making sure nothing went wrong on his watch.
one night, after everyone had left and it was just the two of you, you leaned into him, curious. “why are you so sweet to my friends?”
boyfriend!simon didn’t miss a beat, brushing a strand of hair from your face as he answered softly, “because they mean a lot to you—and you mean everything to me.”
an. i desperately need a man like him.
#call of duty#call of duty fanfiction#cod#cod x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#fluff#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost fluff#simon riley blurbs#simon riley headcanons#simon ghost riley headcanons#simon ghost riley blurbs#simon riley x you#protective simon riley#task force 141#modern warfare#modern warefare ii#simon riley fanfiction#drabbles#simon riley fluff#ghost headcanons#ghost x female reader#ghost x f!reader
8K notes
·
View notes
Text
ੈ♡˳ imagine you're wearing logans dog tags as you ride him. 18+
you're rolling your hips on him, riding him just how he wants. his firm, calloused hands grip your hips with purpose, digging into your flesh so hard it will surely leave bruises. he wants to leave bruises, evidence of how much he wants you, needs you. growling like a fucking animal as his cock slides in and out of you with ease, each slap of his hips connecting with yours earning soft moans from your lips and rough grunts from his.
he loves staring into your eyes while he fucks you, watching those pretty eyes of yours roll back into your skull - but not tonight. tonight he can't help but be mesmerised by the way his dog tags around your neck bounce each time he thrusts. the soft jingling of the metal fills his ears, adding to the sounds of skin on skin and ragged gasps.
fuck, they looked so good on you. his rough fingers trail across your lower stomach, snaking their way to the tags. the metal around your neck, a sign that he owned you, watching the metal coined with his name slap against your soft skin rhythmically.
"that's it," he yanks the chain suddenly, causing you to gasp and place your hands on his fuzzy chest to steady yourself, "atta'girl. . ." logan coos, as he pumps up into you, meeting your every movement. by now, he knows your wet hole is just aching to be filled. it started aching the moment you crawled into bed beside him.
every. single. night.
and you're his, you know you're his, you've given yourself completely to him. your hand grips around his on the tags as if solidifying this, silently granting him ownership.
logan grins, feeling his cock twitch inside you.
you looked so pretty with his name around your neck.
#a little drabble#my writing#wolverine x reader#deadpool x reader#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett x f!reader#wolverine smut#logan howlett x you#logan howlett smut#wolverine fanfiction#the wolverine#wolverine#logan howlett x y/n#logan howlett#deadpool#deadpool and wolverine#james howlett#deadpool 3#deadpool movie#james logan howlett#x men#xmen fanfiction#x men movies#marvel x reader#marvel#mcu#marvel cinematic universe#marvel comics#marvel mcu
10K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
Spencer gets a bad bout of amnesia. Or, your boyfriend forgets he’s your boyfriend, but he still has a crush on you. [3k]
c: fem, bombshell!reader, head injury, hospitals, amnesia, fluff, spencer can’t believe he bagged you, requested here
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚⋆
Spencer wakes to an empty room.
He lays on a pillow too flat, neck twinging, the back of his eyes throbbing when he moves.
He struggles to breathe through his nose and lets his mouth open for a few achy breaths, his mouth dry like he’s been sucking on cotton balls.
Spencer’s alarmed, without a clue what it is he’s done. He wonders where Gideon is, if the older man has come to see him yet. He hopes somebody told his mom he’s okay.
Maybe Hotch will come. He and Hotch have grown closer while Gideon was on his mandated recovery time; Gideon spends far less time in the office, sticking to lectures, seminars and consults, while Hotch, Morgan and Spencer handle the away cases. Spencer might go as far as to say Hotch likes him. And Morgan can tolerate him now, less grudging when Spencer offers a random fact or statistic to further the case.
A stab of pain at the back of his head makes itself known sharply.
Spencer doesn’t want to move, but he needs to assess things. He frowns at his arms, naked as they are. His silver watch is missing. A t-shirt that he doesn’t remember buying stretches over his chest. What state are they in, and who dressed him?
He’s scowling at the window with it’s wide-open blinds and all the sun when the door opens.
You’re looking at the bags on your arm as you come in. Spencer startles in his blankets —what are you doing here? Agent L/N, Morgan’s friend and a candidate for the open position on the BAU team. You’re from the Sex Crimes Unit, like Greenaway.
Spencer flusters every time he sees you, not just because of how kind you’d been the first time you met, or even the easy flirtation you send his way when you cross paths. It’s because you’re the prettiest woman he’s ever seen. He’s not talking about the golden ratio or statistical beauty, you’re just stunning. You stop him in his tracks whenever you steal into the office. It’s better when you notice he’s awake and light up like he’s the winning numbers for tonight’s lottery pull. Everything about you illuminates.
“Hey, babe!” you say, not not yelling as you drop your bags in the seat by the bed and reach for him.
He doesn’t think to move away as you take his face into your hands.
“I’m so glad you’re finally awake, you almost slept for the full twenty four hours.” Your hands are soft. They smell like neroli. When you stroke his cheek and lean down to give him a chaste peck, he almost passes out there and then. “It's a good thing, obviously,” you say, and then kiss him again distractedly. Spencer squeezes his eyes closed. “You heal more when you’re asleep. Or so I’ve heard.”
You pull away, Spencer blinking for his life. You have such a nice mouth, but Spencer’s never thought about what it might feel like on his. He doesn’t have the audacity: in what world would you ever kiss him? That’s the joke, right, when you flirt with him in the office?
“How are you feeling?” you ask, losing some of your pep. “How’s your head, handsome? You know, there are easier ways to get a haircut.”
“They cut my hair?” he croaks.
“Shaved it at the back to stitch you up. Not much, don’t worry. They were pushing for a buzz cut but I put my foot down on that one,” you joke. You nudge his legs aside without worrying about sitting on him as you get comfortable. “It’s not much. You can’t tell.”
“I…”
“You feeling okay?” you ask softly. Your nice mouth purses. Your eyebrows pinch. They’re cute eyebrows.
“You look different than the last time I saw you.”
He doesn’t mean to say it aloud. He’s noticing things now. You’re wearing less powder under your eyes than you used to. You seem to have gained a little weight, and you look good. You didn’t look bad before, but this is different. Your hair isn’t too different, nor your brows, but you’ve begun lining your lips in a new way. Your blush is a subtler hue. Spencer doesn’t claim to know everything about you, but he can say that you look neatly the same each time you visit. Why the sudden change?
“It’s hard to sleep when your favourite person in the world gets his head cut open,” you say, taking his hand where he’d left it loose in the blankets.
Your fingers slip into his with ease.
“Can I tell you something?” he asks, attempting to swallow his nerves.
“Of course you can.”
He licks his lips. “Uh, I think I’m confused. I don’t– I don’t remember what happened, and…”
“Oh, right. They told me this might happen.” You draw yourself up with a breath. He’s fascinated by the movement, an air of heat around him as you begin rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb. “You got hit in the back of the head with a cinder block, honey. Went down like a lead balloon.” You turn your face to show your cheek. “We’re even now on good scares, yeah?”
You have a scar on your face he’d missed, carefully concealed but yet not invisible. Your hand in his feels so alien he holds it wrong, fingers twined but palms apart.
“What happened to you?” he asks.
Your brow crinkles. You go very still. “My cheek?” you ask.
“What…”
“Spencer, what’s the last thing you can remember, honey?” you ask, all the horror in the world to be found in your eyes.
“Uh…” He feels sick to his stomach.
“Spencer?”
Without having to be told, you slip off of the bed with two taps of your shoes and reach for the bedpan, thrusting it into his lap.
His mouth fills with spit. “I’m fine,” he says.
“No, I don’t think so. Let me get a doctor.”
“Wait,” he says, clutching the bedpan and pushing his wave of nausea as far down as he can. “Please don’t go.”
“My face was months ago, honey. I got hit in the face with a hammer by a UnSub, you don’t remember?” you ask incredulously.
“Why do you keep calling me honey?” he asks. He knows the answer, but it’s not computing.
Your face drains of any happiness. “I’m going to get a doctor,” you say, shoulders rigidly tight as you exit the room, leaving Spencer in your wake wishing he’d just pretended he knew who you were, just until you kissed him again.
—
“And he really can’t remember you at all?” Morgan asks.
You’re a little less startled than you had been, and you’re trying not to punish poor Spencer, but realising your boyfriend forgot years of flirting, and yearning, and friendship —years of kissing in secret and otherwise, years of holding hands, and staying at each other’s places to get that extra time together, even if it was just getting to sleep in the same bed between cases— was a slap.
“He remembers me,” you say, leg crossed over the other, arm over the railing of Spencer’s bed to hold his hand. “He just doesn’t remember a thing after Gideon came back, after Boston.”
“I remember when you had hair,” Spencer says to Derek.
Derek glares at him, “This Spencer doesn’t get to sass me.”
“But I do eventually?”
“How come you’re holding hands if he doesn’t know who you are?” Derek asks pointedly.
You shrug. “We talked about it, didn’t we?” you ask Spencer, who perks up every time you talk, which isn’t unlike your usual Spencer. Whenever he catches himself doing it he flusters. Every time you call him baby he loses his mind. “He doesn’t remember me, but he wants to. And I remember him.”
“This must be pretty weird for you, kid,” Derek says.
“Sort of,” Spencer says.
It’s funny. Now you know Spencer thinks he’s twenty three again, you can’t not notice his shyness and his awkward tries at casualness. You’d forgotten what he was like back then.
“Wait, does that mean you don’t remember Emily?” Derek asks.
Spencer frowns. “Uh, no?”
You sit up in your chair. “Emily’s one of your best friends, honey. She joined the BAU when Greenaway left.”
“Not you?” he asks.
You dramatise your pain as Derek laughs. “Not me. I didn’t transfer for a long time, unfairly. It’s okay, though, you’ll remember Emily eventually.”
When you realised Spencer wasn’t as okay as you’d thought, you gathered a gaggle of agitated doctors to assess him. He knew his name and birthday. He was wrong about the date, the president, and the state. You’re in Arizona where he’d thought Indiana. Your bag talks to the heat: Spencer’s fan, his sunblock, his antihistamines. He couldn’t believe it when he asked where his stuff was and you passed him your handbag.
You’re trying to drive home to him that you’re not just dating, you're common-law partners, Spence. He adores you. You’d spend life in his lap if you could afford it.
“How’d she get you to believe her?” Derek asks Spencer.
“Uh.”
“I kissed him a couple of times before he came clean about the amnesia,” you say. “So I didn’t have to explain.”
“I didn’t mean to lie,” Spencer says.
He’s looking less haggard now you’ve brushed his hair. It was sweet to watch his shoulders relax. He shuddered when you tucked a strand behind his ears, and didn’t flinch when you asked if you could kiss his cheek. It’s hard to have him vulnerable here and not be allowed to lick his wounds for him. You feel better the better he feels. You’ve fluffed his pillow, wrapped him tighter in blankets. When he got up to pee and you offered to help, he gave a resolute No Thank You, which in hindsight is hilarious but at the time made you wanna squeeze your eyes out.
“It’s okay,” you say softly, “I don’t mind kissing him, even if he doesn’t remember me. Just so long as he doesn’t mind it back.”
Spencer manages to squeeze your hand. It’s a soft one, but it’s real. “I don’t mind.”
“You dog,” Derek says.
“Stop, stop. He’s not doing anything wrong, is he?” you ask. “I’m the evil one, forcing kisses on him when he doesn’t know me.”
“I do know you,” Spencer says.
“What’s it like to have a crush on your own girlfriend?” Derek asks, unwilling to quit his teasing where he’s crossing his arms in the chair opposite, his cup of coffee drained on the side table.
Spencer swallows. “Uh, nerve-wracking.”
“Believe it or not, that’s not so different to now,” Derek says.
Spencer looks to you for confirmation, which you love. You slide your chair closer to him and clasp his wrist with your free hand. “Sometimes you're still a little shy, but it’s not so bad. Full of myself I may be, Spencer Reid, but you do love me. It’s easy with us.”
“Do we really live together?” he asks. “You said common-law.”
“Not technically. I stay at your place four nights a week. You stay with me for the weekends.”
“Every week?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“We’re never apart?” he asks.
His face is turning pink. You could kiss every bit of colour on his cheeks.
“Derek, would you get Spencer something to eat from the cafeteria? Please?” you ask, levelling your friend with a pleading gaze.
Derek gathers himself up. “Sure. We gotta feed the string bean something, don’t we?” he asks.
Alone again, you draw lines up and down Spencer’s arm with your nails. You’re going to be indulgent in yourself, and ask him everything you’d ever wanted to know. And then a little extra, too.
“You’re not as skinny anymore, have you noticed? You’re quite lean.” You stand to sit where you’d put yourself before he confessed. Your hand falls to his knee. “Solid, sometimes. You and Derek go for walks occasionally.”
“We do?”
“Mm-hm. And me and you do yoga in the living room when we can summon the energy. We tried couples Pilates, but Pilates is hard.”
“We did?”
You smile warmly. “It’s nice to be in love with someone who loves in the same way.”
“How do you love?”
His ears are bitten-red. “Oh, you know. I’m too affectionate. It’s hard not to be with you. Everyone used to think we were… I don’t know, playing a game.” You slide your hand up his thigh, leaning on him to watch his pupils blow. “But I love you for far more than your constant propensity to blush. You get me flowers every time you see my favourites, and you never let me go to sleep without a kiss. Usually here.” You poke the skin beside your eye. “But sometimes you’ll surprise me and kiss my nose.” You're going lax with love, remembering things he’s done, and does every day. “On a Saturday morning we make tea and I put my hands in your t-shirt. You do the crosswords for fun. Sometimes we time them.”
“That’s not how you love, that’s what you love,” Spencer says.
“Oh, you want a play by play of things?” He ducks his chin, but he smiles when you laugh.
“I just can’t believe this is happening.”
You try to think of things you don’t think about anymore. “You love my sugar lip gloss, so I always wear it.”
He reaches out tentatively. Shy as a wren in a hedgerow. You let him curl a hand over your elbow, feel the crook of it with his index finger.
“I buy you stamps, and t-shirts for bed, and stupid stuff you wouldn’t get yourself. We’re… it’s like, it doesn’t feel like gift giving anymore because we’re always getting stuff for each other. You’re just as sweet, you know? When I first started sleeping over you bought me this huge pack of socks ‘cos yours are all odd,” you laugh. “I knew I loved you already, but…”
It’s a little sad, actually. He can’t remember all the stuff that makes you the couple you are. It’s not what you’d meant to get into.
“Can I ask you something?” you ask.
“Anything.”
He’s slept-in and breathless, like he ran laps in his dreams.
“What do you think of me now? I always wondered if you liked me back then, or if I just caught you off guard.”
“Who wouldn’t like you?”
“But did you?”
He looks away hurriedly, his hand dropping from your elbow. “I guess so. But it’s not– not real. I have a crush on you.” His mumbling is sweet. “I have no idea why I’m telling you that.”
“I had a crush on you, too, back then. It wasn’t anything serious, but it wasn’t a joke. And the more time we spent together, the more I thought we could fall in love,” —you take his hand and put it back on your arm— “and we did.”
You toy with his fingers. Without looking, ashamed of your own self-indulgence, you ask another question. “What do you think of me now?”
“I can’t remember,” he says sorrily.
“What do you think?”
“You feel like a dream.” He shakes his head. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. I don’t really get how this is real.”
You shouldn’t be surprised that he’d say it, you practically begged for it, but you can’t stop yourself from sitting up to kiss his forehead gently. “It’s real. Promise. And for the record, you’re handsome. They stopped saying ‘aged like fine wine’ a while ago. Now they just say ‘aged like Spencer Reid’.”
He gives a choky laugh.
The door opens again. You lift your head expecting Derek and find a weather worm Hotch in the doorway. “Reid, you’re awake,” he says, not bothering with a smile. “Morgan said you have amnesia?” He directs it at both of you.
Spencer’s looking at Hotch in clear shock.
“He hasn’t aged that badly,” you chastise teasingly.
“Hotch, you’re– I thought you would’ve– You’re still–?”
Hotch squints. “You didn’t think I had the stamina for it?”
Spencer squirms under his gaze. “No, sir, it’s not that–”
“Sir,” Hotch says, and then he smiles. “I forgot when you both used to respect me.”
“I have the utmost respect for you, sir,” you say through your own smile.
“Has she been kind to you, Reid?”
“Uh, yes? Is she not usually?”
Hotch presses his lips together rather than answer. There’s a sympathy in his expression you resent.
—
It’s a thankfully quick bout of amnesia. The memories start to draw in like a dusting of powdered sugar, his head finely silted, one particle at a time. He finds that the more you talk, the quicker his memory is jogged. You tell him about your first kiss —I tried to kiss your cheek but you moved, it was the funniest thing— and your second. You spin stories of cases, the worst ones and the best, all the times you held hands without people knowing, the times you’d been caught. He can’t imagine it, goes hot with the memory, picturing kissing you as you’d described and the mortification of being walked in on.
You tell him about your vacation to Nevada a few months ago and he thinks about how you’d fallen asleep on the plane. Your nose in his arm, your unhappy sigh at the tight leg space.
Remembering you is more than half of remembering himself.
Your hands —his hands. Your smile —his laugh. The way you fold his hands in your lap —the urge to catch your chin for a kiss.
He doesn’t know how to deal with it, and then suddenly he feels like Spencer. Your partner, your love, his proudest title for years. You’re standing at the end of the hospital bed in pajamas folding your clothes, allowed to stay the night while he’s so urgently confused and upset, you can’t make him stay here alone, please, I know you guys have those little cots for the kids ward, and he just knows you completely.
Hours of diligent if embezzled storytelling gives it all back to him.
“I like the lipgloss because you used to wear that perfume that smelled like sugar donuts,” he says, scratching a hand through limp hair. “And every time I crossed the square by the station–”
You let out a surprising squeal of joy. “Spencer!” you say, racing to take his hands, “Yes! The donut truck!”
You go in for a kiss he gladly returns. “Oh, you remember,” you say, softening as he takes your neck into his hand. “I was getting worried.”
“Some of it’s still hazy, but not so much you.”
You wrap your arms around him for a hug, careful of his sore head. “I missed you, Spencer. I still loved you when you couldn’t remember me, but I missed you. Do you remember you?”
He traces the scar on your lower cheek with his thumb. He’s genuinely relieved to be able to say he does. He’s not scared of what you think of him anymore, ‘cos he knows that everything he feels for you is mutual. “I remember you telling me my bad feeling was just a case of the heebies.”
You bend into his touch. “Honey, I’m sorry. How was I supposed to know you’d get your skull whacked with a cinder block? It was a bakery. I thought the worst that could happen was getting a face full of red velvet or something.” You kiss his nose quickly. “I’m so glad you’re you. Now I can sleep in the bed with you, and not that collapsible camping cot.”
He shushes you. “Don’t give us away. They’re not gonna let you stay if they think I’m fine.”
You giggle excitedly, arms around him again for another squeeze. “I missed you so much. You’re so devious now.”
He rubs your back. “I missed you too. And I still have a crush on you, I swear.”
“Thank you, honey, that means a lot to me.”
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚⋆
thanks for reading!
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
Toji always puts you on his back when he's doing pushups, that man says you are his warmup weight even if you weigh 90 kgs, he will come into your bedroom with his protein shake and smirk like a teenager and you know what's about to happen, you're used to this. he's putting you over his shoulder to then directly put you on his back and start doing pushups, fast af too. You just latch onto his neck for dear life and he's laughing while doing his workout.
He will also make you a dumbbell for working his biceps.
Then while doing squats he will put you on his neck.
He just wants to get a good workout in but, also spend time with his girl.
You talk to him while he's getting his workout in, literally on his neck or back and he's just responding with grunts and mhm's.
He loves how you talk so much, He just loves you too much <3
#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#toji fushigro x reader#toji fluff#toji x you#toji x reader#toji x y/n#toji fushiguro fanfiction#toji fushiguro fluff#toji fushiguro x reader#ain talks🩵💙#itsafairytalekay-works#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk fanfic#jjk x fem!reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jjk fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen toji#jjk men x you#jjk men x reader#jjk men#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#anime fanfic#jjk drabbles#jjk fluff drabble
6K notes
·
View notes
Note
I need some soft sex with Theo :( need him to push into me slowly and tell me how much he loves me as he kisses me and leaves a bunch of love marks all over my neck and chest :(
And be still wouldn’t be able to help himself as he wraps his hand round my neck, gently though<3
Oh my god anon YESSS !!! Let’s get into it, yeah?
Ti Amo
Theodore Nott x Reader
Summary: Little Drabble of your boyfriend showing you just how much he loves you
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, Chars 18+, College Au, bf!theo, softdom!theo, dom!theo, choking, hickies, soft slow sex, relationship, soft dom, PIV
His hips slowly rolled his cock inside of you, his breathing heavy. One of Theo’s hands was wrapped around your throat while the other propped him up. Your doe-eyed gaze remained locked on his, your whimpers heard throughout his dorm. “Cazzo— I fucking love-” He pauses for a moment to let out a pleasurable groan, kissing along your jawline. “—You…So much, Bambina.” With harder, elongated thrusts, he moaned against your cheek.
“Theo—Gods…I love you too— please…please keep fucking me like that.” Squeaking out through your own little cry of pleasure, you could feel Theodore’s strong hand tightening around your neck. A little gasp freeing from your swollen lips. “That’s it, Tesoro…who do you love, huh? Who do you fucking love?” Now kissing down your neck, he sucked ever so slightly, leaving his love bites all over your sensitive flesh while he softly pushes his throbbing length in and out of your pussy. Struggling with himself to not pound you senselessly.
Your moans only progressively got louder, his bed frame rocking along with his slow thrusts. “Y-you…I love you—“ Your eyes were practically rolling to the back of your head now. He was bringing you to a state of pure ecstasy. A state you knew all too well with him. “That’s right…you love me…” Theo’s thumb gently caressed against the skin of your neck, feeling the rapid pulse within it. “I have your heart in the palm of my hand, amore…Ti amo tanto…” Even through the sensual lovemaking, his dominant nature was slipping through. But fuck did you love it.
Slowly pumping his dick into your warmed and soaked core, you could hardly contain the immense amount of pleasure that was now soaring throughout you. Not only pleasure…but love too. “Theo, baby I’m so close—“ Whining as your body squirmed from the nearing climax, a satisfied smirk tugged on the corners of his lips. “My good girl…Cum all over my cock...Show me just how much you love me.” Encouraging you, he kept his slow and steady pace, feeling you progressively get wetter while your tightened walls clenched around his aching cock.
Hehehe a small lil Drabble of softdom!theo he’s just so asdffkghlhlk
Hope my sweet smut sluts liked this one💋
Divider pinned in my masterlist🌙
#theodore nott#theo nott#theo nott smut#slytherin boys#theodore nott smut#theo nott x reader#slytherin#theo nott x you#theodore nott x reader#harry potter fandom#theo nott smutt#theo nott drabble#theo nott fanfiction#theo nott imagine#theodore x reader#theodore nott fic#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott drabble#theodore nott x fem!reader#theo nott x fem!reader#theodore nott smutt#theodore nott fanfiction#theodorenottsmut#theodorenott#theodorenott x reader#slytherinboys#slytherin boys smut#theonott smut#theonott#theo not
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
Simon that goes feral after seeing you wear his dog tags.
"Hm what's that you're wearing love? Those my dog tags?"
You give him a supple nod in return, a light blush dusting your cheeks.
"Where'd you find that hm?" He approaches you slowly with a smirk plastered on his face.
"I found it on your desk.. didn't think you'd mind.." You try your best to sound confident, yet you fail miserably.
He holds your chin between his two fingers, caressing your bottom lip with his thumb. "I ever tell you how gorgeous you look?"
"Everyday." You gaze up at him, your innocence showing.
"Good," he whispers softly, his breath warm against your skin, before closing the distance between you and drawing you into a kiss.
Lifting you gently by your thighs, he carries you with ease to the warmth of your shared bedroom. As he crosses the threshold, the soft glow of the lighting wraps around you both. He sets you down on the plush fabric of the bed, the comforting texture embracing you as you sink into it.
In a swift motion, he pulls off his pants, the fabric pooling on the floor, and then settles onto the bed beside you, his skin warm against the sheets. An idea flickers in his eyes, and a light smirk crosses his face.
“Need to see you ride me.” He guides you to straddle him, before slipping your shirt off and pushing your panties to the side, bullying himself in. The sudden intrusion makes you gasp as he moves fervently, showing no signs of slowing down.
He gazes his eyes to the dog tag that's wrapped around your precious neck.
The atmosphere in the room thickens with a mix of hushed gasps and soft moans. Simon's heavy breathing cuts through the tension as pleasure envelopes him, growing more urgent.
“Tell me how good it feels love.”
As you near the edge, words struggle to get out, the only thing audible is your gasps.
“C’mon. Use your words,” he grunts out.
“Feels so fucking good Simon. Don't stop..” your words are followed by a whimper, your legs getting tired as you struggle to bounce on his massive size.
Noticing your struggle, he flips you over and mercilessly pounds you into the bed, aiming to finish you both off.
“That’s it, angel. Right there. Fuck you're so perfect.” he intertwines his fingers with yours, he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles before resuming his thrusts.
As soon as you start cumming, Simon doubles his efforts, reaching his hand down to rub your swollen clit. He feels you tighten around him, legs trembling as your orgasm washes over you.
“Fuck, look at you.” he slows his movements, pulling out after he fills you up.
“Spread your legs for me sweetheart.” he spreads your legs a little more, positioning his face between them, planting a little kiss on your clit. He smirks as he maintains eye contact, his tongue darting out to tease your clit with a tight touch, circling it slowly.
His movements speed up, eventually adding his index and middle finger, slowly curling it to hit that perfect spot that makes you see stars.
You moan even louder than before, not even worrying about the neighbors. “More…” you manage to utter, your voice barely rising above a whisper as you use your last bit of resilience.
“Greedy little thing ain't ya?” his fingers move faster, deeper, as he maintains the intense abuse on your clit.
You throw your head back in pure ecstasy as you've officially been fucked dumb.
His fingers pump in and out of you ruthlessly, curling up periodically. He can feel you getting ready to cum again. He looks up at your thrown-back head, his mind racing with more ideas. “Turn over.”
He quickly flips you over into your hands and knees, positioning himself behind you. He spreads your legs apart slightly, exposing your cunt. He spits on it, using his thumb to rub the saliva around your entrance.
He lines himself up with your dripping pussy, rubbing the thick head teasingly along your slit.
He pushes forward slightly, stretching you open as he sinks inside. “Fuck you're so tight, baby girl.” he pauses, letting you adjust to his size once more before starting to thrust slowly.
The dog tags jingle as he pounds into you, grabbing your hips tightly and pulling you back onto him with each powerful thrust. “Such a good girl.”
He reaches around and rubs your clit in firm circles, tormenting it further. “I can feel your little cunt gripping me. You gonna cum angel?”
Seeing you nod, he leans over, pressing his muscular chest against your back, his breath hot on your ear. “Then cum for me sweet girl.”
He growls deeply, feeling your pussy convulse around his cock as you cum. As he finishes emptying himself inside you, he collapses onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms and nuzzling into your neck. “You’re so perfect.”
He kisses your neck softly, holding you close as his cum leaks out of your spent cunt. As he whispers comforting words into your ear, you feel yourself dozing off, completely spent from the night’s actions.
Simon smiles softly, adjusting you so you're comfortable against his chest. He pulls the blanket over the both of you, ensuring you're warm. A hand cups the back of your head, rubbing soothingly in your hair, making sure you feel safe.
“Sweet dreams, love. I got you.”
Proud of this one ngl
#smut#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#ghost fanfiction#ghost cod#ghost x reader#cod smut#cod x reader#cod modern warfare#cod#cod mwii#cod mw3#cod mw2#fanfic#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty#ghost headcanons#ghost#simon riley smut#simon riley#simon riley cod#simon riley imagine#imagine#cod imagine#call me a good girl#drabble#headcanon
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
whatever you want
words: 1.5k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, ab riding, tit fucking, semi public sex, established relationship, cumming in mouth, mentions of future and past sex, lots of talk about rafes muscles, reader is kinda described as having big (or at least decent sized) breasts, lots of banter can these bitches just shut up and fuck oh my goddddd
“again.” you call, almost sounding drunk despite being completely sober.
rafe sighs, rolling his eyes, but the side of his lip quirks up, unable to hide how much he likes your fascination.
rafe flexes again, his arms bulging and pecs tightening. you reach out, smoothing your hands over the hard muscles.
“you're so strong.” you coo, sat on rafes lap despite the hot temperature of the day, which resulted in rafe pulling his shirt off.
"you're acting like you've never seen me shirtless before.” rafe says with a chuckle.
“shh, let me appreciate you.” you shake your head. sure, you've seen him shirtless plenty of times but rafe was bulking up for summer and it caused all his muscles to be deliciously defined.
“alright, whatever.” rafe flexes again, not going to argue too much when he has your hands obsessively touching every part of his body.
your hands move down to his stomach, fingers running over his abs. “if you let me ride your abs, i’d let you do whatever you want to me.”
“you-” rafe places his hands on his hips, sitting up straighter. “you want to ride my abs?”
“yeah.” you nod, quirking your head to the side. “you know, like rub my pussy against them.”
“shit, do it right now.” rafe looks down at your short shorts, barely covering more than your underwear does.
“yes!” you squeal out, hopping up and tugging your bottoms and panties off, not caring that you’re in the backyard and anyone could theoretically come by. “lay back.” you instruct.
rafe lays on the couch, smiling up at you as you climb on top of him. “you’ll have to flex for me as im doing this.” you inform rafe, placing your pussy on his abdomen. “especially your pecs.” you poke his chest.
“you’re such a slut for my body.” rafe chuckles, hands coming to your hips, pushing you further down, feeling your wetness as your thighs spread even more open.
“i can’t help that you’re so sexy.” you shrug, hips starting to move back and forth in a slow rock, carefully building up the pace, wanting to enjoy being sat on his stomach.
you lean forward, placing your hands on his chest for stability, pressing your clit further against his muscles. rafe flexes his muscles and they harden underneath you.
“rafe!” you squeal.
“i guess you like that, huh?” rafes hands squeeze at your hips and lift up, placing you harder back down on his stomach. “oh, you like that too.” he smiles as he bounces you again and you moan out.
“i really like that.” you hum, eyes struggling to stay open with the pleasure, but you want to keep your eyes on rafe beneath you. its rare he lets you take over like this.
you moan as you both bounce, using your knees to go up and down while rafe assists so you don’t get burnt out.
you pull your top off, revealing the bikini top you’re wearing underneath, ready to go swimming whenever you’re done playing with rafe, needing to get in the water on this sweltering day.
“jesus, your tits are perfect.” rafe smiles as he watches your chest bouncing, sitting up to rub his face in between your pushed together breasts, the bikini top holding them tight together.
“not as perfect as yours.” you giggle, hands squeezing at his chest, palms over his nipples.
“don’t call them tits.” rafe rolls his eyes as he lays back, head against the cushion.
“well, whatever you wanna call them, i fucking love your muscles. your pecs-” you squeeze your hands again, digging into his soft flesh until rafe flexes and they harden. “your biceps-” you move your hands, and rafe flexes again, his muscles bulging. “your abs.” this time you press your pussy down, rubbing against the contours and ridges.
“you’re lucky that you offered to let me do whatever i want to you otherwise i wouldn’t have agreed to this.” rafe smirks.
“oh yeah?” you raise an eyebrow. “what are you gonna do to me?” there’s truly nothing rafe could do to your body that wouldn’t bring you pleasure, you glow just under his attention alone.
“fuck your tits.” rafe smirks, eyes moving down from your face to your chest. “as soon as your done, right here for anyone to see.”
“damn, you could do anything and you don’t want to fuck my asshole or tie me up?” you laugh, expecting something more from rafe.
“you’d let me do all that whenever anyways.” rafe pushes your hips down, grinding you against him. you moan and lean forward, your hands coming back to rafes chest.
“keep doing that.” you whimper, eyes sliding closed as your mouth drops open, moans filling the air and being carried away by the wind.
rafe keeps moving, the veins in his forearm flexing as your wetness spreads over his abs, coating them in your slick, allowing your pussy to drag even easier.
“im-im close.” you warn, swallowing thickly.
rafe grunts and increases his hold, tightening his grip on your hips so you can’t slip loose, grinding you down as he flexes his abs, the hardness rubbing against your clit making you moan out, body falling forward as you cum hard, shaking as rafe lets up on you, hands loosening and moving to rub your back.
“fuck.” you whine, snuggling into his chest, letting your hips drop down, feeling rafes hardness pressing against your stomach.
rafe starts to move as you cry out, not ready to do anything more than close your eyes and feel his warmth against your cheek.
“come on, brat.” rafe chuckles. “i wanna fuck your tits while you’re all spaced out from your orgasm. you know i love you like this.”
you hum a sound thats close enough to agreement that rafe flips you so you’re underneath him, laying on your back on the couch as he stands.
“you’re so gorgeous like this.” rafe says as he undoes his belt buckle, then pushing his pants and underwear down, his hard cock popping up.
“wanna taste.” you whine, eyes still droopy.
“nope.” rafe shakes his head. “we made a deal. i know you like to taste me, but im fucking your tits. take your top off.”
rafe pulls at the strings of your bikini, flinging it away to reveal your pink nipples to the sunlight.
“fine, but will you at least cum a little in my mouth?” you pout as rafe kneels on either side of you, glad that the outdoor couch is big enough for all of these activities.
“sure, baby.” rafe chuckles, just another way of showing how desperate you are for him.
rafes hands land on your tits, palms rubbing on your nipples, feeling them harden against his palms, not unlike when he was flexing his muscles for you earlier.
rafes hands move to the sides of your breasts, pushing them together. “god, you look so fuckable right now.”
“yeah? gonna fuck me later then? maybe out on the boat hm? after you’re done with my tits?”
“the boat, the bed, the counter, the shower, im gonna have you everywhere.” rafe bends down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose.
you smile up at him, a lazy, tired smile. rafe angles his hips down, the head of his cock pushing against the underside of your tits before slipping in between them.
“oh!” your eyebrows raise, surprised at the unusual feeling, but certainly not disliking it as he begins to move back and forth.
“shit.” rafe grunts. “fuck.”
you swat rafes hands away, pressing your tits together for him. rafe leans forward, hands landing on either side of your neck, his face contorted in pleasure directly over yours.
you look down, eyes watching the head of rafes cock appearing and disappearing between your breasts.
“this is- this is fucking good.” rafe grunts, moving faster. “im- im not gonna last very long.”
you stick your tongue out, rafes cock just long enough to hit it with the tip of his cock as he thrusts. you relish the taste, pulling your tongue back into your mouth every couple thrusts to spread the taste.
“thats it, baby.” rafe moans, one hand moving to your mouth, two fingers pulling at the side of your lip, spreading your mouth wider.
you moan out, tongue open and ready for his cum. rafe fucks forward as fast as he can, just like he does your pussy when you spread your legs wide for him.
“cumming.” rafe manages to say as he surges forward, burying his cock in your mouth as his hand wraps around his length, stroking up and down as he reaches his high, cum spurting into your mouth as you happily swallow.
rafe moans slowly die out and become quieter until hes pulling out of your mouth. “get up my legs are about to give out.” he says quickly, and you barely slide off the couch before he collapses.
you giggle and climb on top of him, pressing kisses to his cheek as his chest heaves up and down.
“im guessing you liked that.” you rub your thumb over his bottom lip.
“yeah.” rafe smiles, his eyes sliding shut.
“so, boat ride now?”
“jesus, woman give me a second.” rafe laughs, pulling you into a gentle kiss.
#TWO FICS IN ONE DAY EVERYONE CHEERED#EVERYONE SAY GO CASSIE#EVERYONE SAY GOOD JOB CASSIE#EVERYONE COMPLIMENT ME RIGHT NOW#rafe smut#rafe cameron smut#obx smut#outer banks smut#rafe fic#rafe fanfic#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe x oc#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x oc#rafe cameron x reader#rafe imagine#rafe drabble#rafe blurb#rafe one shot#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron one shot
8K notes
·
View notes
Text
it was always you.
for as long as you remember, you’ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, jeon jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years.
so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor.
or at least, that’s what you think.
pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 13.2k
rating: 18+
content: fluff, semi-angst, childhood friends to lovers au, pining au | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + brother’s best friend!jungkook; professor!reader + editor!reader | inspired by purple hearts
warning/s: swearing, potentially wrong medical & military information (i’m sorry but i tried to do as much research i can 😭), mentions of having type 1 diabetes, making out, heavy petting, implied sexual content: oral (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (this is only fiction!)
MINI PLAYLIST: ♫ die with a smile — lady gaga, bruno mars ♫ juno — sabrina carpenter ♫ selfish — *nsync ♫ nandito na ako — benj pangilinan, angela ken
opening note. omg this is my first full length fic in two damn years i think??? certainly took a long time before i had the motivation to write again but i hope y'all like this! to my og readers who still keep up with my shenanigans, this one's for you 🥹💗
“Any questions?”
A boy wearing half-rimmed glasses raises his hand and you gesture for him to speak. “Can we get an extension on the Save the Cat project due tomorrow?”
You sigh, just as several of your students begin agreeing with him and muttering reasons of their own why the extension should be approved. It’s the week before finals, and you’re aware that the class must be packed with assignments and projects for several of their classes because of it, hence the rather last minute request. They look tired and pleading, a complete reflection of how you were when you were the one in their position nearly a decade ago, begging for an extension from a professor who you thought was kind enough to be swayed with the proposition.
You scan the crowd. “How many of you are at least 70% with it, hm?”
More than half of the class raises their hands.
“Okay, that’s honestly unexpected,” you say, pleased to know that they aren’t slacking on your subject. “Does Monday sound good? That’s three more days, to be fair. I don’t want to extend it further because I have to read everyone’s work and you guys know I don’t like rushing it before turning in your final grade.”
A chorus of relief and thanks echoed in the room, all of your students either dramatically sinking in their chair or erupting in an animated conversation with their seatmate or making crying faces to portray how grateful they are.
“Thank you so much, Ms. ____!”
“I love you, Ms. ____!”
“Ms. ____, I will offer my first child to you,” one theatrically adds and you smile a bit, rolling your eyes at students like this one who is now opting to flatter you way too much for your act of kindness.
“Alright, alright. Just get it done and I’m expecting quality work, okay? Class dismissed.”
The whole class begins to gather their things at the cue and you don’t stay there a minute longer after your announcement, exiting the lecture hall to head to the faculty room where you’re certain half of the teaching staff have gone home already. It’s already 8:47 p.m., and all you want to do is head home to get the rest you deserve after an eventful day.
There was a time that having a schedule from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. wasn’t the norm for you. You used to value work life balance so much—it was even a nonnegotiable you used to say in interviews, saying that if you didn’t get enough rest within the week, then the job most likely wasn’t for you. But things have been very different for the past months; you have definitely grown out of that mindset due to the fact that you’re simply in need of another source of income to pay for your monthly rent, utility bills, and now your medication. You’re in a stage of your life wherein you consider working part time as a professor was a blessing rather than a big nuisance.
Making a right turn to where the hallway to the faculty room is, you’re too busy rearranging the papers inside the folder you’re holding to notice a man sitting on the bench placed just beside the entrance. He notices you the second you appear in his line of vision though; he straightens his posture and proceeds on standing up immediately upon seeing you closer, calling your name softly when you failed to look at his direction, too preoccupied with the thought of finally coming home that you’re oblivious that the man trying to catch your attention is Jeon Jungkook.
“____,” he calls again and this time you notice him, your eyes widening instantly.
“Holy shi—” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence. “Jungkook?”
He grins. “Hey, lamb chop.”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Is that how you greet an old friend?”
“Oh, fuck off.”
He laughs, following suit to you who’s already giggling just by his presence alone, outstretching his arms then. “You gonna hug me or what?”
You beam and step forward to embrace him. He returns it without hesitation, muscular arms circling around you and squeezing tightly that it lifts you up from the ground for a quick second. The faint smell of fabric conditioner on his clothes enters your nostrils and you feel like a teenager again, warmth rushing to your face while your heart hammers loudly in your chest. Regardless of how old the both of you are, you think your hopeless crush on the guy will forever live on and constantly transform you into a middle school girl whenever opportunities like these to have him near arise. You’re just happy you’ve trained yourself to be better at hiding it now compared to when you were younger.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in base or wherever it is that you’re designated?” you ask, the first to let go from the hug.
“Actually, I returned from deployment three days ago. I’m on leave for two weeks.”
“Wow. Two weeks, huh?”
“Yep. It’s the longest break I’ve gotten in a while.”
“That’s good. Everybody needs a break from time to time.”
“Says the girl has a day job and a night job.” He points out with a smirk; your heart does a little leap at how handsome he looks doing that. “When the hell did you get into teaching, by the way? I never pegged you to be the kind who can tolerate it. You hate kids.”
“You’ll find yourself tolerating lots of things in this economy.” You snort. “And my students aren’t kids. They’re in college.”
“Yeah, which you graduated from six years ago. Still technically kids.”
“Are you seriously jabbing at my age when you’re two years older than I am?”
He rolls his eyes at that one, an indication that you won the argument. “Anyway,” he starts again and you grin, “I didn’t come here to compare how old we are—”
“You didn’t?”
He sends you a look. Your grin gets even wider.
“I’m here because I was hoping to treat you to dinner.”
“Dinner?” you repeat, not masking the surprise from your voice.
Let’s get the facts straight before we proceed to this conversation.
It isn’t a lie when you say that you and Jungkook are great friends. You have been since you were 7 and your family just moved into the house next to theirs. He was a natural playmate, a companion when you couldn’t tolerate the antics of your older brother, the boy who looked out for you aside from said older brother, and the person you’ve shared significant history with throughout your youth that you can never seem to forget nor disregard.
It’s just that you never deemed that you were great enough friends for him to go out of his way and visit you at your workplace, offering to treat you for dinner. Gestures like that were reserved for your older brother, Seowon, who’s the same age as he is and who you’re sure is considered as his best friend. Compared to them, yours and Jungkook’s dynamic shifted slightly after graduating from college. What once was a really close friendship turned into a casual one, with mostly just teasing, light talks, and the occasional welfare checks at times you hear certain news from the other that’s worth speaking directly about.
At the mention of that, realization dawns on you on why he must be here.
“Jungkook…” You’re trying not to sound mad but you can’t hide the exasperation from your voice. “That’s not the real reason you’re here.”
“Of course, it is. Why else would I be here?”
“He told you, didn’t he?” you ask, not willing to drag this out. “You’re just going to give me another lecture that I definitely don’t need.”
Jungkook frowns, like he’s dismayed that you caught on pretty swiftly.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” You pressed.
“He meant well, ____.”
You scowl. To remark that Seowon is unnecessarily nosy and coddling would be an understatement. That man hasn’t left you alone the second he was aware of your condition. Usually, whenever he gets into his ‘big brother tendencies’, his girlfriend Winnie steps in and helps you lay him off your back. However, it’s different this time; no matter how much you reinstill your independence and insist that you’re fine, it’s like you’re talking to a wall.
“What exactly did you hear from him?” you query.
He seems hesitant in answering that. “That you got diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.”
You wince.
“Look,” he steps forward towards you, “I wasn’t going to bring it up unless you did, okay? I’m just here because I’m genuinely worried about you and I want to know how you’re doing.”
“I’m fine.” You murmur. “You don’t need to worry.”
“Worry doesn’t vanish magically just because someone says so.”
“Well, it should—because I’m fine.”
“You sure? I heard that you’re struggling to buy insulin among other things you’re having a hard time paying.”
“Fuck. Seowon told you that too? That’s private.”
“My parents know. He just filled me in because he wants you to have as much support as you can get.”
“I don’t need that. I’m an adult. I’ve lived by myself for years. I can fend for myself just fine.”
“It doesn’t look like it from what I’ve been hearing.”
“All you’re hearing is a warped and exaggerated version of the story told by Seowon who won’t listen to a word I say.” You huff. “I’m fine and I’ve been doing everything I can, alright? I’m taking care of myself. I’m going to the doctor whenever I need to. I’m making ends meet, buying treatment for this goddamn disease and regulating my sugar levels all the fucking time. Why do you think I’ve been working two jobs for the past year? It’s because I’m doing everything I can to stay alive.”
Jungkook doesn’t reply, he only remains gazing at you.
“If you’re here to offer me money or whatever because of what he said,” you add, already embarrassed that you can’t even look at him anymore, “then I don’t want it.”
“That’s not what I’m here for,” he says.
“Then are you really just here to treat me to dinner?” you question sarcastically.
He laughs and you dare return your eyes at him, catching him peering at you with a fond expression. “Yes. It’s my way of doing a welfare check.”
“Welfare check.” You echo with squinted eyes. “Well, in that case, here I am—alive and healthy.”
“I can see that, and I’m glad.” He smiles. “But I need more than just seeing you. I need a conversation and an apology.”
“An apology?”
“For being the last person to know about your condition.”
“And we’re still talking about that apparently.” You mutter under your breath. “Sorry. I didn’t think that you wanted to know.”
“Of course, I would have wanted to know. It’s you we’re talking about here.”
Something about how he said you causes your lips to twitch as you fight off a smile. This isn’t a good time to dive into your romantic feelings for your childhood crush, but when he’s letting go of lines like that which are sure to have your heart soaring out of your chest, it’s hard to keep on a cool and unfazed facade. You just convince yourself that he sees you as a little sister and that’s why he’s so worried; you should already be past your ‘delulu’ phase at this age to be affected by such statements.
“I didn’t want to add to your worries,” you reason. “You already have your life to think about. Add to the fact that you’re a naval aviator—so you literally have your own life first to think about.”
“I can make space for you.”
Is he flirting? Is this a normal thing to say between friends?
You blink. “Okay, uh, that’s… that’s completely up to you, I guess.”
“I just like knowing those things first hand. It makes me worry less.”
“Got it. Next time I learn I’m dying, I’ll tell you.”
“____,” he says your name in warning, and you know he’s serious.
“Sorry.” You heat up. “I couldn’t resist.”
“Don’t be a pain in the ass.”
“I promise that’ll be the last time I make a dark joke, Lieutenant.”
Jungkook’s nostrils flare. You prevent yourself from grinning like a fool again in success of getting on his nerves.
“Are you done here? Because I’m hungry and would really like to get going now.” He changes the subject and gestures to the faculty.
“Yeah. I’ll just get my things and then I can get out of here.”
“Great. You’re letting me take you to dinner, right?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“No.”
“Fine.” You deadpan.
This time, he’s the one who’s beaming at you. “I’ll wait for you here and we can go.”
“Okay.”
****
When Jungkook discovered that you had type 1 diabetes through a phone call with Seowon, he spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, ignoring the snores of his squadmates and overthinking what’s supposed to happen to you now that you had an autoimmune disease which he was told didn’t have a cure. He was assured that you were okay despite it, that there was medication to treat it, and that you had access to them and have been very careful with your lifestyle due to the diagnosis ever since.
He still couldn’t be put to ease though. As ridiculous as it may sound, he had this overwhelming realization that life truly was short, that you had to make certain decisions all the time because you need to adjust to what the universe is only willing to give you. It was funny coming from a person who risked his life for a living. He thinks that perhaps he never understood the philosophy of the quote ‘time is gold’ until he had a loved one on the same trajectory, always one step closer to possible death.
And so that same night, he decided to file a leave for two weeks, effective immediately after his deployment.
He wasn’t sure what his game plan was exactly in filing that two-week leave. Was he supposed to barge in your life and force you to let him take care of you? Was he supposed to demand why you ended up having diabetes? Was he supposed to act as a big brother like your actual big brother because he was that worried about you? But if Jungkook was going to be truthful, he already had an idea on what he wanted to do in the back of his head—he just didn’t want to execute it because it was absolutely insane.
Until he heard Seowon suggest it himself when they met up at a bar to share a drink together.
“She would never say yes,” Jungkook said, beyond doubt that you won’t be persuaded that easily with a plan like that.
Seowon made a face. “I know. That girl is so hyper independent—she’d rather die than accept help.” He scoffed. “She needs it though. It’ll help with her medication and she won’t have to pay rent for that shit apartment she’s living in. Plus, she'll actually get the chance to take care of her body if she’s not juggling two jobs to have sufficient income.”
“You’re right.” Jungkook shrugged.
“You’ll do it then?”
He took a sip of his beer. “Yeah. I’d do anything for ____, you know that.”
“Even as crazy as marrying her?”
“Sure.”
Seowon stared at him, narrowing his eyes and morphing his expression into a teasing one. “Are you sure you’re not just considering this because it’s a perfect excuse to marry my sister? I know you like her.”
“I don’t like her.”
“You’re in love with her.”
“I don’t—” Jungkook began to deny but Seowon was staring him down. “Fuck you, man. Don’t make me some kind of pervert who’s trying to lock her into marriage because he likes her. You’re the one who brought the idea up.”
Seowon laughed out loud. “I know, I just can’t believe you’d agree. It’ll benefit ____, that’s for sure—you, on the other hand? It’s career suicide.”
He shrugged. “I’m okay with the thought that she’ll be okay.”
“Because you love her, man.” Seowon pushed. “Why on earth would you consider this if you weren’t? It’s a fraudulent marriage. You’ll be thrown in the brig and be dishonorably discharged if you get caught.”
“We don’t even know if she’ll agree to this whole thing. You said it yourself, she would never say yes.”
“Yeah, unless maybe you’re the one who tries to persuade her.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to buy her a ring and kneel down before her or something?”
“That can work.”
“What?” Jungkook laughed.
Seowon raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how she’s been crushing on you since we were kids.”
He barked out a laugh again. That he knew; it was impossible not to when a lot of friends and cousins kept on teasing you before, especially at instances Jungkook was in the very same vicinity. “We’re not kids anymore and I barely see her though.”
“Still, it ought to count to something. It raises the chances of her agreeing.”
“You’re really cool with me marrying your sister, Won?” Jungkook asked.
Seowon placed down the beer bottle he’s consuming on the counter. “Yeah. You’re a good guy. You’re not perfect, but I know you enough to know that you won’t do anything that will purposely hurt her. Besides, if this sham marriage ends up to be a real relationship and then for some reason, you fuck up and decide to break her heart—I’ll easily know what to do, where to find you, and then I’ll do everything I can to fuck you up.”
Jungkook pressed his lips together to stifle a chuckle.
“Noted.”
****
It’s always been a big wonder to you how no matter how long it’s been since you saw each other, it still feels like no time has passed between you and Jungkook. You think that’s why you can never get over him; he always had this comforting and familiar aura that you appreciate—something that you sought for in every other person that you liked. Maybe it was impractical, maybe it was the reason you can never hold a relationship for more than two years, but unless you gain the courage to confront your feelings and tell Jungkook about it, then you constantly dispel any doubts you might have whether this was good for you or not.
You don’t want to lose him. Admitting that you harbored romantic feelings for him would just make it awkward for everyone: your brother, your family, and then his family. You don’t think you can ever trade his smile, the sound of his laughter, and all the good things about him for anything in the world.
“Are you dating anyone?” he asks.
You choke on your drink, having just poured yourself and Jungkook a glass of water after the server arrived with the pitcher. You’re in a Japanese restaurant near the university, aware that the cuisine was a favorite for the both of you hence why it’s what you recommended when he asked where you wanted to dine. The place is packed with people from the workforce and students; you’re thankful that you don’t see any of your students within the mix.
“We’re getting straight to it, huh?” you say.
Jungkook smirks. “I’m just making sure I’m not upsetting a boyfriend by meeting you tonight.”
“Don’t worry, you’re not upsetting anyone.”
He nods in understanding. You don’t want to add more meaning to his actions for the evening but he seems glad about the information.
“How about you?” you ask back. “Are you dating anyone?”
The ends of his mouth lift a bit upwards. “Nope.”
“Why? You don’t have the time for it?”
“Precisely.”
“It must be really hard dating when you’re in the Navy then.”
“Kinda. We’re away a lot and stationed in different places most of the time. It can get really dangerous for us too and people don’t like the stress that comes with that.”
You bob. “Does it get lonely?”
“Sometimes, but when you’re on duty, you don’t get to think about those things.” He chuckles. “Besides, I don’t know if this sounds fucked up or not—but it can get exciting. Flying a plane can be fun, you know. Not to mention that it helps when you’re surrounded by good men in your squadron.”
“You’ve always been an adrenaline junkie.”
“And you’ve always been a scaredy-cat.”
You scoff at the declaration. “No, I’m not.”
“Remember when Seowon and I forced you to ride that ship in the amusement park that sways left to right and as it goes on it falls from a higher standpoint?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But you do, and Jungkook knows you do, it’s evident by how your expression is trying to feign innocence. That memory is your villain origin story; the whole pretext of why you refuse to ever visit the amusement park or ride an exhilarating ride again. Yet you can’t help but recall that it’s one of the rare instances wherein you got to hold Jungkook’s hand when you two were younger, as his hand was the one you were clinging for dear life when it happened while the other was too busy slapping Seowon in irritation.
He snickers, appearing like he’s replaying the scene in his head. “We should do that again with Seowon during my break.”
“Hell no.”
“I thought you weren’t a scaredy-cat?” He challenges.
“I’m not.” You give him a kittenish glare. “But I am busy. I have to send the final manuscript of this book I’m editing to the chief editor next week and it’s about to be finals week for my students as well.”
He fakes a shiver. “I don’t know how you can do two jobs like that, ____. Truly.”
“You work as a naval aviator so I’d say we’re pretty even.”
The waiter arrives with your orders not long after, and you and Jungkook carry on with your conversation, jumping from topic to topic without difficulty. You’re not certain when was the last time you saw each other like this to have so much to talk about—was it last Christmas? Or was it more recent or longer than that? Nevertheless, it feels good and you find yourself blushing multiple times throughout the night, whether it’s because of how his words can have two meanings or how his eyes are staring at you so intensely whenever you’re the one who’s talking.
You like the undivided attention, the back and forth that’s occurring as you discourse, the subtle touches one of you does when something funny arises, how your knees are touching underneath the table. You wonder what’s so different with this encounter that the energy feels so bizarre in a good way? As far as you’re concerned, you’re positive that you’re acting like you always have in his presence—lively, smiley, sarcastic—and aside from the little touches of flirting here and there, Jungkook’s acting like he always has too.
When dinner was done, Jungkook offered to drive you home. You obliged, no longer in the mood to annoy him for you were tired to make the effort. Before stepping outside the restaurant however, you excused yourself to the restroom first, checking your blood sugar with the glucose meter you brought along wherever you went. It’s a hassle but it’s necessary, largely because you’re still in the middle of saving up for the insulin pump that would help you regulate your sugar levels easier.
After administering yourself with the insulin injection you have, you spend a few more seconds inside the enclosed room. You should be past the point of feeling sorry for yourself, but it’s times like this wherein you’re with a loved one that the dejection hits and you wish that you’re in a better predicament than you are right now. You’re close to being broke, you’re overworked, you’re somehow fatigued all the fucking time—those factors aren’t soothing your worries at all. It’s a miracle how you manage to keep an optimistic mind amidst everything.
“Ready to go?” Jungkook smiles at you once you’re back at the table and you nod, clutching your bag tighter against your body and following him to his car.
He drives you to your place, turning the radio on, and letting it play while the both of you sit in silence. You’re both tired and you almost even sleep during the ride. It’s only when Jungkook gently shakes you awake that you realize that you’ve arrived in front of your apartment building.
“I’ll walk you up,” he insists as you’re unbuckling the seatbelt.
“That’s no need, Kook.”
“Of course, it is,” he says. “I’ll walk you up. That’s nonnegotiable.”
So, you allow him.
It takes five minutes tops to reach the door leading to your apartment. As you rummage through your bag to grab your keys, Jungkook patiently stands there, occasionally glancing around the hallway and even smiling when the old lady that resided in the same floor got out of her room to throw out the trash. He receives a smile in return which you notice and grin fondly at.
“Well, this is me.” You turn to him, done unlocking your door. “I’d invite you inside but you should probably get going. It’s quite a long drive back home.”
“Yeah.” He breathes out a chuckle. “Hey, tonight was fun. It made me realize how I missed you.”
Your brain temporarily malfunctions; you force yourself to recover quickly. “Me too. I had fun tonight. Maybe we should do this again whenever you’re on a break.”
“Agreed.”
You flash him a smile. “You can go now. Goodnight.”
Jungkook nods, however doesn’t move a muscle. He’s looking at you, like really looking at you, his eyes moving from one feature to another, as if he’s memorizing your face or having a hard time arranging the words he wants to say. You guess it’s the latter, familiar with a tongue-tied Jungkook that it takes you a few good seconds before you’re demanding why he’s impersonating a mannequin.
“There’s something I want to say,” that’s what he utters and you almost snort due to your assumption being right.
“Okay…” The smile is still on your lips. “What is it?”
“Promise me you won’t get mad first.”
“Well, if you’re making me promise that then it’s probably worth being mad about.”
“It’s not as bad as you think.”
“That’s not convincing at all.”
“It’s just…” He begins and trails, biting his lower lip, “it’s… it’s why I went here. Why I went here to see and meet you, I mean.”
You unconsciously recoil at the revelation. It’s certainly a rookie mistake to believe that there was no ulterior motive in Jungkook meeting you today. You just didn’t reckon you’d actually be truly disappointed at that—at the idea that he just didn’t randomly decide to visit and be with you earlier until now.
You draw a long breath. “Well, I knew you weren’t just feeling generous and wanted to treat me to dinner out of nowhere.”
There’s a pause and then he resumes. “Just—before I say it, you have to hear me out, okay? You have to let me explain before you berate me.”
“I can’t promise that either.”
“You have to.”
“Why do I have to?”
“Because what I’m about to say is for your own sake. You know I always have your best interest at heart, don’t you?”
You wrinkle your forehead in further confusion. “Can you just get on with it? The vagueness is making me more annoyed.”
“I just don’t want you to misunderstand.”
“Misunderstand what?”
“What I—and Seowon—genuinely think is the best option.”
“Oh, and Seowon is in on this too?” You bellow. “Have you and Seowon just been conspiring behind my back the whole time?”
“Calm down.” Jungkook puts his hands on your shoulders, a chuckle inevitably escaping him. “I’m sorry for dragging it out. You should know I’m high key afraid of you, that’s why.”
“You should be.” You grumble.
Another chuckle, but he’s back to appearing anxious. You want to shout that this isn’t healthy, that you’re close to giving him a real reason to be afraid of you—yet once he blurts the confession out, you’re speechless, gawking at him and staggering backwards in complete shock. Perhaps you would have bolted as far away from him as possible if not for his solid grasp.
“What?” You hiss.
He swallows hard.
“I want you to marry me, ____.”
You don’t bolt away running. You shake off his hold on you though, and before he gets another word in, you’re hastily rushing inside your apartment and slamming the door to his face.
****
Jungkook was your first kiss.
It happened in a game of truth and dare. You were at a party of a mutual friend and when the bottle miserably pointed in Jungkook’s direction, the person who was tasked to think of his dare when it was his pick said that he dared him to do 7 minutes in heaven with you.
He profusely refused at first, especially since Seowon was in the same party, but everybody began booing and next thing you know, Jungkook was agreeing as long as it was fine with you. When you nodded to make your consent apparent, your friends were quick to shove you both in the closet, some of them pulling Seowon back who was complaining how it wasn’t right to bully you into doing 7 minutes in heaven with Jungkook. They calmed him down once they bullied him into agreeing too.
“We don’t have to do anything,” Jungkook told you in the darkness, his breath fawning over your face. “You don’t have to feel pressured. It’s just a stupid game.”
You blushed.
Secretly, you were hoping that he’d kiss you or touch you. Who didn’t want to do anything with their crush at the age of 15? A lot can happen in 7 minutes. You were aware that sometimes people made out, went as far as third base, and although you didn’t want to go that far with Jungkook, you wanted something to happen while you were stuck in this small closet with him. There weren’t a lot of instances that put both of you in this kind of situation; you wished that you were brave enough to ask him to kiss you or do the first move yourself.
5 minutes in, Jungkook turned towards you.
“Is it true that Taehyung kissed you last week?”
You whipped your head so fast that you might have given yourself whiplash. “That’s—that’s not true. Where did you hear that?”
“During homeroom. Some girls were talking about it.”
Your cheeks burned. “Oh.”
“So, it’s not true?”
“No.” You shook your head. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” You laughed weakly.
It was his turn to seem stunned. “You haven’t had your first kiss yet?”
You shook your head again, then realized he might not see you doing so. “Not yet.”
“Want me to change that?” he asked, grinning.
He said that with a boyish grin and teasing tone, but you sucked at social cues (plus, you really couldn’t see shit that much) that you started nodding.
“Okay,” you told him.
“Huh?”
“You can kiss me.”
“Oh, oh, shit—I didn’t—” He was blabbering, about to take back what he offered. “I mean, I was just joking but—”
You widen your eyes. “You were? Oh my God, I’m sorry, I thought you were—”
“No, it was my fault. That was a little out of line for me. I’m sorry.” He was laughing and you felt like burying yourself 6 feet under. “It was a stupid thing to say. But if you want me to kiss you, it’s cool.”
“It is?” Hope sparked within you.
“Yeah. It’ll just be a peck anyway.” You can tell he was smiling through his voice. “Just don’t tell Seowon because he might punch me in the face for kissing his sister.”
You cackled. “Deal.”
56 seconds before the 7 minutes were up, Jungkook leaned down to match your level and placed his lips on yours.
****
You’re seething with rage, the embodiment of Godzilla, channeling the God of War, Ares, in your body; you harshly press Seowon’s number on your phone to call him and he answers after three rings.
“What’s up?”
“I will fucking murder you,” you snarl.
A beat. You hear shuffling. Then he answers, “you already talked with Jungkook?”
The nonchalance and calmness in his voice drives you to be more frustrated than you already are. “Yes, I have! What is wrong with you? Why would you plant that idea on his head?” You yell, not caring that your walls are thin and that your voice can probably be heard by the couple that lived next door. You’re feeling a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and every negative emotion that exists at the moment. You’re comparable to a bull who just saw the color red.
“____, it won’t be a big deal if you don’t make it to be.”
“Are you hearing yourself right now?”
“Did you even let Jungkook explain?”
“I don’t need him to spell everything out. I know why he’s asking me to marry him.”
“Then you know too that it’d be good for you.”
“Marrying him won’t be good for me.”
“Why not?”
“It just won’t!”
“You’ll get health insurance benefits that you don’t get with your current jobs. You can pay less rent once you move in at Jungkook’s place—there’s a huge chance he won’t even let you pay him while you stay there too. He’s away most of the time anyway, so staying there wouldn’t be a problem. Plus, you can start studying for a masters degree like you’ve always wanted.”
You groan. “Not like this. This is crazy.”
“The both of you can divorce once you’ve saved up a little. It really isn’t that complicated.”
“It’s a sham marriage!”
“It’s a sham marriage with Jungkook.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“Are you sure? Your grade school diary might disagree.”
“Oh my God, that’s fucking low of you to bring that up. You just gave me another reason to hate you.” You stomp around the living room, acting like a teenager because of your brother’s behavior. This isn’t the first time he revealed that he’s read your diary before; that doesn’t mean it’s less infuriating to be reminded that he has. “I swear, you better fucking sleeping with one eye open tonight. I’m choking you to death.”
Seowon laughs out loud. “Just marry him. He’s surprisingly amicable with the idea.”
“That’s because you’re pressuring him! I bet you and Mom devised this entire thing together.”
“Mom doesn’t know. To be fair, she’d probably have the same reaction as you. It’s all me and Jungkook.”
“Wow. You have two brains and yet none of you thought this was goddamn stupid?”
“It’s not stupid. It’s genius if you come to think of it,” he says. “Jungkook just wants to help you, dude. He wants to make sure you’ll be okay and all that shit. You’re the reason he filed for a two-week leave, did he tell you?”
Your heart does that jumping thing again. “No.”
“Well, he did. He’s on a break for two weeks because he wants to convince you to marry him and actually marry you within that time frame.”
“This is nuts.” You sigh, finally flopping down the sofa and rubbing your face with your free hand. “The both of you are nuts. How are you okay with this?”
“It’s Jungkook. I trust him. Don’t you?”
“Of course, I do, I just—” you cut yourself off and frown, “I just feel like it’s unfair for him. I’m marrying him because of military spouse benefits and what does he get?”
There’s a long pause, and you almost check your phone to see whether Seowon has already hung up on you or not.
“It’s better that Jungkook answers that question,” he tells you finally.
“Why? You can’t answer it on behalf of him?”
“Something like that.” You can imagine him shrugging. “All I know is that he’s genuinely concerned about your health and your financial status right now. So, just think about it, okay?”
“God, fuck it, fine. I’ll think about it.” You grimace.
You hang up and glance at the door.
You don’t think the conversation you just had with Seowon took that much time. The initial rush you had upon having your longtime crush propose to you is wearing off and you’re realizing that it was a dick move to literally slam the door right in Jungkook’s face earlier, leading you to stand up from your seat and look through the peephole to check if he’s still there.
He isn’t, which you sigh in relief at.
As you lean against the door and regulate your breathing, you think how funny it is that Seowon is right about one thing—and that was grade school you would have been delighted at the thought of getting married to Jungkook. He’s your dream guy; your parents loved him, his parents loved you, the both of you got along very well, and his personality and looks are everything that you’re looking for in a partner. It sucks that you live in a world where the only reason he wants to marry you is because he’s afraid you’ll die because of self-neglect.
Your phone pings and you unlock the screen to look at the message that flashes on it.
Jungkook: hey, seowon just messaged me to say that you two already talked Jungkook: i’m sorry for jumping on you with a topic like that… Jungkook: i’m shit at confrontation lol Jungkook: also it’s the first time i’m proposing so give me some slack
You scoff at his audacity to joke about it this soon.
You: it’s okay You: i’m sorry too for what i did You: the answer is no btw
Jungkook: already??? Jungkook: let’s talk about it first
You: no need You: i don’t want to marry you
Jungkook: oof that’s harsh
You: sorry not sorry?
He doesn’t respond and you think you’re safe. Maybe Jungkook does take no for an answer and you’re confused because you’re a little disappointed that he’s not falling on his knees, begging you to marry him like what your imagination is supplying you.
However, after you took a shower and went to check your phone again, you see that Jungkook messaged you a few minutes ago in response to your last message.
Jungkook: give me 10 days and i’ll change your mind
You have the urge to go take a shower again because of how hot your body is feeling at the statement.
You: hate to break it to you but you’re not matthew mcconaughey
Jungkook: 🤣🤣🤣
****
It’s not part of Jungkook’s branding to chase a woman. Typically, women chase him; they chase him in every city and country that he gets stationed in, flirting with him and hoping that they’ll get the chance to take him home for the night for a mindblowing one-night stand. They never succeed though, for despite their pretty faces and sultry gestures, Jungkook only smiles and declines every offer, saying that he had a girl waiting back home that he loved very much.
He used to think that he only used that as an excuse because he’s not the type to hook up with every attractive girl he meets. There are times when he succumbs, when he gives into the temptation of a little fun, especially after a life threatening or highly stressful mission—but most of the time, he thinks he declines and use that pronouncement of his because his mind reverts him to the idea of you, to what would happen if he just gained the balls to ask you out.
Evidently, although asking you out and asking you to marry him are two completely different things, he’s a bit afraid that your answer will always be a hard no. It’s what you’ve been literally spelling out to him since the day he presented the idea, regardless of how he’s trying his best in swooning you or explaining how this is the perfect plan to help you gain an upper hand with your diagnosis.
“I’ll file a restraining order against you, I’m serious,” you say to him when he appears yet again outside the faculty room, waiting for you to gather your things and head home. You’re wearing a white button up shirt and pinstripe wide leg trousers, an outfit combination that he ogles at before he goes down to business.
“You wouldn’t.” He glares at you. He gestures for you to let him take your backpack, and despite what you said, you let him. “Also, what the fuck is in this thing? You’ll break your back if you keep using this.” He swings your backpack on one shoulder.
You laugh. “My laptop, its charger, a couple of notebooks, books, pens, then the outputs of my students.”
“Aren’t they supposed to submit virtually? What happened to Google Classroom?”
“I still use it, but sometimes I like to have their work printed out so I can write the comments better. How do you know Google Classroom?”
“I have a squadronmate whose kid uses it for class.”
“Ah.” You nod in understanding.
You two continue walking forward.
This has been your program for the past few days. Jungkook goes to the university you work at, he’ll wait outside, you’ll threaten him with something ridiculous, he’ll take your bag, he’ll offer to take you to dinner, you’ll decline, and then he’ll drive you home anyways. Before that routine ends, he’ll lean on your door frame and give you his best puppy eyes, asking you to marry him for the sake of your welfare, and you’ll scowl at him, insisting that you don’t need his help to survive.
“Dinner?” he asks, right on schedule.
You glance at him. “No. I want to go home and sleep for 12 hours.”
“Busy day?”
“Yep.”
“You know, if you marry me, you won’t have to work two jobs and overexert yourself.”
He doesn’t need to turn to you to know that you’re giving him a dirty look. “I won’t marry you, Jungkook.”
“Why not?”
“Because marriage doesn’t work that way.”
“It does. Billionaires do it all the time. The mafia does it too. It’s always been some kind of transaction.”
“Well, if I marry you, what do you get?”
“The assurance you’re taken care of.”
“That’s cheesy.”
You share a laugh and he grins.
“It’s true,” he says. “I’ll be fine as long as you are.”
He waits for you to quip back a reply, flickering his eyes to you when it takes longer than usual. Instead of the sneer he’s expecting, you appear to be flustered, an expression that is very recognizable for him who’s known you since forever—an expression that makes it too obvious for Jungkook that the crush you had on him that he thought has been long gone was still there. He’s been seeing it a lot lately, particularly when he’s uttering lines that sound flirtatious on purpose; he’s positive that you’ll threaten to kill him when you discover that he basks on the fact that he can still make you all flustered and cute, which encourages him to do and say anything that would elicit a reaction from you. Was it unethical to seduce you into marrying him? He might have to rethink that part too.
Reaching the parking lot, he unlocks the doors to his vehicle and places your bag inside the backseat. He watches you walk around the car, about to go to the passenger’s side, but then you wobble a bit and his attempt to get inside is instantly forgotten.
“Hey,” he strides to where you are, gazing at you as you now hold onto the hood, “you alright?”
You raise your chin up. “Kook, can you get my bag?”
Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s swinging the door again and getting your bag from the other end of the backseat while you get on the passenger’s seat, keeping the door wide and placing your legs outside, your feet planted on the concrete.
“What do you need?” he asks, crouching in front of you and zipping the bag open.
“Glucometer.”
He halts. “What does that look like?”
“It’s in the yellow bag. There.” You point at it right when he rummages through a certain part.
He brings it out and you take it from his grasp. Your movements are sluggish but he can discern that you’re doing your best not to be too slow; he’d present to help but he knows that he might prolong what you’re doing due to his cluelessness, so he just observes, noting how you’re pricking your finger with a device and then pressing it lightly to the glucometer which shows that your blood sugar is low.
“Apple juice,” you mutter to him and he finds it faster than the last one.
You grab the juice pouch from his grasp, prying the straw attached on the back, pushing its end for it to pop out of its plastic cover—then your hand shakes, preventing you from continuing and punching in the straw properly.
“Let me do it,” he says.
You don’t fight him, you just slump against the seat as Jungkook picks up from where you left, and the moment he does the job and guides the straw to your awaiting lips, a long exhale through your nose escapes you.
“How are you feeling?” he whispers. He didn’t notice that he was holding his breath the entire duration of the scene.
Another sigh. “Better.”
“Does this happen a lot?”
You seem to hesitate. “Not a lot. Just when life gets a bit too hectic.”
“____—”
“Just take me home.” You don’t give him the chance to lecture you. “Please, Jungkook.”
Defeated, he nods. “Alright.”
“Thank you.”
He helps you position yourself properly on the passenger’s seat. “But we’re talking about this at your place.”
Before you can protest, he closes the door.
****
Lee Hyunwoo was the name of the guy that you brought home for Christmas Eve eight years ago. It was the first time that you did, and Jungkook hated how Hyunwoo was considerably handsome, intelligent, and kind—the exact kind of person he always imagined you deserved.
In the short time Hyunwoo spent with theirs and your family that night, everybody loved him and was already inviting him to the next gathering, all the while Jungkook avoided him at every cost, puzzled by this strong dislike he was feeling for your guest. He was annoyed at the manner in which Hyunwoo had an arm around your waist the entire evening, how you grinned up to him, eyes sparkling and all that shit. Hell, you used to look at him like that.
“Honey, can you get the mango float we have in our freezer?” Jungkook heard your mother tell you, and without thinking, he stood up from his chair and made a beeline to where you were, telling you he’d accompany you to your house.
“That’s fine,” you told him. “It’s literally next door.”
“Yeah, but it might be heavy.”
“It’s not.”
“Better safe than sorry.”
You rolled your eyes and agreed then, excusing yourself from Hyunwoo who was in an engaged conversation with Seowon. The pair were geeking out because of their mutual love for the MCU and the next film slated to be released the following year.
Upon arriving at your home, you dashed to the kitchen with Jungkook trudging behind you. He wasn’t sure what his next course of action should be now; all he wanted was some alone time with you, away from the presence of that college boyfriend of yours, but now that he had that, he couldn’t think of anything that he wanted to say or do. He wasn’t even sure why he was feeling a bit jealous—was it because of that saying? Wherein people are bound to want what they can’t have? Or was it that you only appreciate what you had when you’ve already lost it?
“How long have you and Hyunwoo been dating?” he asked, leaning against the counter as you pulled your freezer open.
“Four months, I think.”
“Four months? And you already brought him home?”
You snorted at his tone. “His family is in another country so I thought it’d be nice to invite him.”
“You must really like him then.”
“Yeah, but I’m not in love with him or anything.” You placed the mango float on the space beside Jungkook on the counter. “He’s nice, and he likes me too.”
“Does he treat you well?”
You flashed your eyes at him, amusement dancing in them. “What’s with that question?”
“What’s with it?”
“Nothing, it’s just that…” you trailed, a smirk etched on your face. “Wait a minute, are you… you can’t possibly—” Jungkook was widening his eyes, ready to deny your accusation once you questioned whether he was jealous of Hyunwoo or not— “are you pulling an overprotective brother skit on me, Kook?”
Fuck, thank God, he thought.
“I prefer ‘overprotective friend skit’,” he said.
“That doesn’t have a nice ring to it.”
“But I’m not your brother.”
“You don’t have to be, I’m just saying that you and Seowon have been acting similar since Hyunwoo and I arrived.”
“Nonsense. Seowon likes him.”
“Oh, so you don’t?”
He pressed his lips into a tight line.
“Did you just admit that you don’t like Hyunwoo?” you asked, chuckling. He was grateful that you didn’t seem to be offended by it.
“I didn’t say I didn’t like him.”
“Instead you implied it.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You kinda did.”
He heard you laugh and he couldn’t help but allow himself to laugh as well.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Maybe I’m just not used to you dating anyone. You are chronically single.”
“Can’t say you’re wrong.” You snorted and picked up from the mango float, marching back to his house and gesturing for him to follow you.
He did, no words spoken between the both of you once more. Though when you were entering their place again, with Jungkook holding the door open for you, he mentioned something he never reckoned he’d have the guts to mention out loud.
“When you open my gift,” he began, “don’t do it in front of Hyunwoo, okay?”
“Why not?” You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, intrigued by his warning.
“He might not like it. You’ll see.”
That night, at the comfort of your bedroom, Hyunwoo nowhere near but instead sleeping at the coach downstairs in your living room, you opened Jungkook’s gift and saw that it was a necklace with your birth flower as its pendant.
You smiled, rolling your eyes to yourself, and slept with that giddy look never leaving your face.
****
“Not so fast,” Jungkook grunts.
Did he think that you were going to be less difficult since he was helpful earlier? Yeah, he did. He likes to think that if it wasn’t for him, you would have taken longer in feeding yourself with apple juice, so he at least wanted a thank you in the form of your willingness to have an adult conversation with him tonight. However, that clearly isn’t the case because when he walked you up to your apartment like he always did, you’re attempting to lock him out, shutting the door as fast as you can once you’re inside, thus trying to prevent him from initiating that talk he wanted the two of you to have.
“Seriously?” He successfully pries the door open and you scowl at him.
“Jungkook—”
“No, you don’t get to reason your way out of this. I’m done hearing you out. It’s your turn to listen to me.” He steps inside your apartment.
You groan, striding to the sofa and throwing your bag there. “You can’t force me to marry you.”
“Is marrying me so fucking bad that you can’t get over it for health insurance benefits that can really help you?” He demands, infuriated.
“That’s not the issue.”
“Then what is?”
“You can get arrested!” you exclaim. “And so can I! Does that not freak you out?”
“We’ll only get arrested if we get caught.”
“I’m not willing to take the risk.”
“I’m not willing to see you die.”
You scoff out a laugh. “Who the fuck said anything about dying? I’m not dying.”
“You almost passed out on me. You almost—”
“It’s an error on my part, I admit.” You sigh. “When I get busy and preoccupied, sometimes I forget to check my sugar levels regularly throughout the day. I’m sorry.”
“And you expect to be convinced that you have everything handled?”
“God, I’m not a child. Stop treating me like I can’t do shit for myself.”
“Please, ___,” he approaches you with the most pleading expression he can muster, and he watches as your hard expression crumbles, “just accept my help. It’s really not a big deal—you won’t even see me often, so keeping up with the whole marriage ploy wouldn’t be difficult. We’ll divorce in two years, we can pretend we never got married after that.”
“You just don’t get it, don’t you?”
“What do I not get? If you think I don’t understand something, then explain it to me—”
“I can’t marry you,” you say. You do so like it’s final, like there’s no point in arguing with you because he can never change your stand on this. As he’s pleading with his eyes to urge you to agree, you’re communicating with your eyes in a similar way that’s wishing he would just drop this. “It’s wrong.”
His eyebrows furrow. “This isn’t the time to go on your high horse and decide what’s wrong and what’s not. It’s a fraudulent marriage—of course, it’ll be wrong to some degree.”
“No, I mean…” You turn away from him, rubbing your face in exhaustion. “It’d be wrong of me to marry you. I’m taking advantage of you if I do, and I don’t like that.”
Jungkook shakes his head, frustration worsening at the childlike excuse. Surely, you weren’t that naive, were you? “You’re not. I’m not doing this against my own will. Besides, we get extra pay just for being married. If it makes you feel better, I won’t split it with you.”
“That won’t make me feel better.”
“Then what will?”
You flop down on the coach and lean back, closing your eyes. He knows he’s being a pain in the ass but he can’t just stand here and do nothing. He thinks he’s already come too far in convincing you, he isn’t going to back out now. Every single day spent together, he can feel you warming up to the idea of marrying him for health insurance. Your connection and entirety of your relationship has been off the charts recently that it’ll be harder for him not to be assured that before he leaves for his job, you’ll be taken care off.
Jungkook goes to the spot beside you, sitting down. Your knees bump together, he keeps on gazing at you, waiting for you to focus on him; a minute passes and his gaze moves to your hand that’s laying on the small space between you.
Without overthinking, he stretches out and clasps it, allowing his fingers to play with yours that finally captures your attention. The moment he glances up, he sees that you’re staring at him and he doesn’t let go, he even smiles, a quiet promise that he’s always willing to listen to whatever you want to tell him.
You hesitantly smile back. “You know,” your eyes train back to your intertwined fingers, Jungkook reveling in the warmth of your skin, gaining more confidence in acting out his feelings, “there was a time wherein I would have said yes immediately if you asked me to marry you.”
He smirks, can’t deny how hearing that inflates his ego a bit although this route in the conversation isn’t where he expected to go. “What changed?”
“For one, I grew up.”
“Ouch.”
You laugh. Then you stay quiet for a while before speaking. “Can I confess something?”
That piques his interest. “Anything.”
“But you have to promise not to make fun of me.”
“That’s impossible.” He teases. “What is it?”
You stall, readjusting your position so that you can directly face him. Jungkook doesn’t let go of your hand, he keeps it in his grasp, his thumb rubbing along the expanse of your knuckles.
“I like you, Jungkook. I really really do,” you finally say and he blinks, startled.
It shouldn’t surprise him, considering that it’s been long established that he knew of your crush already, though he doesn’t seem to have anticipated for you to boldly admit it when all these years, it’s only been some kind of unspoken understanding that neither of you downright acknowledged.
You continue speaking. “In fact, I like you so much that maybe it developed into love at some point—I’m not sure. I’m at this stage of no longer being afraid of what I feel, I think? Most of the time, I just let it occur like it’s something so natural. Like it’s a feeling that I can never get away from? Like whatever I do, there’s no way to shake you.” You chuckle half-heartedly. “Though never in a million years would I have thought that I’d confess all of this. What for anyway? I don’t want you to be burdened with what my teenage heart couldn’t rub out.”
His mind is racing; hundred thoughts, hundred scenarios, hundred experiences he’s spent with you since the day you met. Jungkook never realized how much he needed you to say that you liked him—that maybe you even loved him—until he heard it from your very mouth that you did, causing every inhibition and doubt he had to vanish. Now, he only wants to engulf you in an embrace and shout Yes, I feel the same way! Sorry for being a fucking corward and not doing this first!
He would have done all of that in a flash if it didn’t appear that you still had something to say. Based on your rather constipated posture and the hand he’s holding that’s becoming clammy, he discerns that you’re just in the first part of what you wanted to admit.
“Actually, that’s also why I can’t let myself marry you,” you say. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don’t know… it feels really icky somehow. I feel like I’m holding you hostage, or that I’m tricking you because of an ulterior motive, or that I’m defying the laws of the universe by having the chance to marry you. I’m not sure. I just know that I don’t want to marry you if it means I’ll only get to do so because you think you’re doing me a huge favor. I don’t want to be your charity case, Kook—I deserve to be more than that, you know? I’m not traditional or whatever but if it’s not for love, I’m not keen on getting married.” You abruptly pull away from his clutch, embarrassment washing on your features by what you stated. “Plus, two years might not be that long but what happens when you meet someone and you like her? How can you explain that you’re only married to me because I need it for my medication? It’ll just be unnecessarily messy. I don’t want to hold you back from those kinds of things. I don’t want to be a hindrance.”
That’s his cue. That’s when he knows he’s supposed to kiss you and take your breath away, to admit that he’s certain that he has loved you since that one time when he was in the Naval Academy and although the training was hard as fuck, the thought of you gave him strength and he didn’t want to see anyone as much as he wanted to see you after—that when you and Seowon visited him, that familiar urge to have you alone was all he felt the entire time, solidifying the idea that perhaps he didn’t just see you as a friend.
“You’re unbelievably dense, ___,” he murmurs, smirking at the play of events, and you glance at him, expression showing disbelief that he’s somehow treating this matter lightly.
“What?”
“Do you honestly think I go around and offer marriage to every woman out there who can benefit from being a military spouse? Do you think I’m that generous? I’m not. I wouldn’t ask anyone to marry me for the same reason if they weren’t important to me—or if I didn’t like them. I’m not that much of a saint,” he adds. “I mean, I’m taking a two-week break to convince you to marry me. I’m spending time with you every single day. I’m driving for almost an hour and a half, enduring the traffic to get from my apartment to the university you work in to do that—and you think this is because I want to be charitable?”
Silence. Your forehead wrinkles. He thinks you’re still not getting the point.
“I’m in love with you, ____,” Jungkook says.
Your breath hitches in your throat. You’re opening your mouth, then closing it, then opening it again, then pressing it into a thin line. He thinks you look cute, being taken aback like this, and he’s wishing that he’s done this sooner so that the last five days of him chasing you around like a lost puppy was spent with talking more about what’s possibly waiting for yours and his relationship next.
“Are you serious?” you ask after what seems like forever. “Or are you just saying that because you’re that desperate to have me on board with the whole fraudulent marriage thing?”
“God—” He’s inching closer to you now, laughing, watching your lips twitch at his reaction— “I’m convinced that you were born into this earth to drive me fucking crazy.”
And just like that, he no longer restrains himself from kissing you.
It takes you a few good seconds before you will yourself to move. You can’t seem to process the reality of Jungkook admitting that he was in love with you and then taking the liberty to plant his lips on yours. You’re not complaining, of course, but you are a bit overwhelmed that it literally makes you freeze, unaware of what you’re supposed to do now that your fantasies are coming into life.
However, once you feel him angle his head to the side, doing so to deepen the kiss, your reflexes kick in and you’re kissing him back, encircling your arms around his neck and leaning towards him, Jungkook sighing in what appears to be relief. He grips your hips to support you as you try to straddle him, but your movements are so clumsy that you end up sprawling against his chest instead, perched on a leg of his that provides pleasure on the spot you need him the most. He chuckles at your lack of gracefulness, gliding his lips to your cheek and down to your jaw, nipping.
“This okay?” he whispers with a palm drifting to your bottom.
You nod and Jungkook’s mouth is back on yours in an instant. He squeezes your ass, takes his time in fondling with it, cheekily slapping whenever you get brave yourself and push your tongue past his lips, before he skims his hand lower to your thigh and signals for you to mount him. Upon being properly sat on his lap, you get an immediate feel of his hard length through his jeans, prompting your imagination to run wild and induce the filthiest things he can do to you if neither of you stops.
“Holy shit,” he curses, your kisses roaming to the base of his throat where you lap and suck.
It becomes a dirty pattern for a while. The both of you will take a brief pause from making out to remove a piece of clothing or kiss every other exposed skin there is: the cheek, the jaw, the neck, the collarbones, the shoulders. Then one of you hauls the other back for another passionate kiss, hands skating everywhere on your bodies, sounds of arousal echoing inside the room; you’re starting to get lightheaded but you’re positive it’s not because of your sugar levels running low.
“I hate that it took us so long to get to this point,” he mutters.
You grin. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m the man—I should have confessed long ago.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know. ‘Was afraid to lose you, I guess.” He draws his head back and admires your blissed out expression. “But then when Seowon told me you had diabetes, I panicked and thought that I might lose you either way.”
You go back to making out, Jungkook guiding your hips in grinding on his clothed length. It’s addictive—the intimate feel of him, how he’s not shy in making sure you know how much he’s craving to be as close to you as you are to him. You think you can spend the whole night just doing this and be okay with it.
“Fuck, Kook,” you groan against his mouth, a hand descending to his stomach and to his manhood, “you’re so… so fuckin’ hard.”
You’re palming him now, tracing the erection evident under his boxers.
He lets out a grunt. “Yeah, baby, I know.”
“Do you… do you want me—” You’re breathless, not able to continue whatever it is that you want to say.
He understands you just fine though. “No.” He shakes his head. “Don’t do anything.”
You’re not sure what Jungkook means by that. How are you supposed to do nothing when you want to do everything to him? You soon comprehend what he means when he guides you to lay down on the sofa, when his lips skim lower and lower, passing your breasts, giving them the attention they deserve, until he goes lower than that and discards your underwear, kissing you in between your legs.
It’s like he’s releasing all the pent up emotions he’s been keeping all these years. His tongue and fingers are relentless, his voice is telling you that he’s eager to coax an orgasm out of you, and as he lifts himself up to return to his previous position, face hovering yours, you’re positive that he’ll get everything he wants because without a doubt you’ll give him everything he wants from you too. Hell, if he uses this opportunity to ask you to marry him again, you might answer yes straight away, no longer bearing in mind the worries you expressed to him earlier.
Although did that even matter anymore? Jungkook said he loved you. He said you drove him crazy. You never thought you’d come to see the day he’d utter those words but here you are. The man of your dreams is kissing you, pleasing you, and looking damn enthusiastic as he does all of that.
“Last chance to stop me,” Jungkook teases. His eyes are glassy and you can feel his cock nudging on your thigh.
You giggle, bringing his head closer to press another long kiss on those pink and plump lips of his. “Please never stop.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
“I’m going to take you up on that.”
“Please do.”
After this night, you’re certain that you’ll never allow yourself to be with another man aside from Jungkook. At the back of your head, you always thought that you were his, regardless if that wasn’t true or that there was no real relationship to prove that—however, at this moment, as he thrusts in and out languidly, you unquestionably know that you are. You belong to him now and he belongs to you; he lets you know through his love-filled gaze, his passionate kisses, and the manner wherein he moans your name.
“I love you,” he says, like he’s still in deep longing for your touch and affection.
You hum, tangling your fingers through the strands of his hair. “I love you, Kook.” You stare at his eyes. “I can’t remember a time I didn’t.”
A boyish grin erupts on his features.
Time passes by quickly. In a few more of his kisses, of the intoxicating slam of his hips, of his seductive whimpers, you’re coming beneath him, Jungkook pulling out and jerking his length until he too comes, his seed landing on the base of your tummy. You have the nerve to giggle at that, grinning at him with low-lidded eyes, and Jungkook hastily wipes his cum off your skin, attacking you with another passionate kiss that leaves you breathless.
“There’s no way you’re not marrying me after this,” he murmurs.
You teasingly graze your teeth on his bottom lip. “I’ll think about it.”
He groans. “Don’t think about it. Just say yes.”
“At least let me sleep on it, Kook.”
“Fuck—fine.” He grabs your sides and pulls you flush against his body. “Guess I’ll have to keep on convincing you until you agree.”
****
“God, why is this so difficult?” Jungkook whines, keeping you in his embrace, head tucked between your cheek and shoulder.
The air is very humid and Jungkook’s in his naval aviator uniform, which doesn’t look cool in a sense that air is properly flowing through the material. He doesn’t care though, doesn’t care that it’s sticking to his skin as he refuses to let you go, not even when you complain playfully.
“Kook, I’m fucking sweaty.”
“I don’t care.”
You laugh.
He’s leaving to return to his duty and you’re here with him outside the base before he enters, being with him until the last possible minute because that’s how much of a good wife you are.
Yes, you and Jungkook did get married. Three days ago in fact, at the city hall’s courtroom. Neither of you invited your parents; they didn’t know about the occasion and you refused to tell them, afraid that they may be critical about yours and his choices when they discover the true reason why you’re rushing to be wed. The only people that remained to be aware of it was Seowon and his girlfriend, Winnie, who served as the witnesses, which was fine by you. In your understanding, this was just for the papers and your health, and not the real deal yet to be celebrated lavishly.
“I’ll propose to you again after a couple of years,” Jungkook promised after the ceremony. “Let’s renew our vows and I’ll give you an amazing wedding.”
You would have told him that there was no need, but who were you kidding? You did want a proper wedding with Jungkook. The previous week didn’t even feel like you were newlyweds. Yes, the both of you compacted all of the dates you could have if one of you weren’t such a chicken in five days, and yes, though the honeymoon stage was experienced and practiced—it was only because you were a new couple who after years of hiding their feelings for one another, was now finally free to express it as much as they desired.
“Call me everyday?” you ask when he finally pulls back, Jungkook pecking your lips one more time.
“Definitely.” He smiles. “Visit me whenever possible?”
“Of course.” You kiss him too.
His smile transforms into a grin. “Take care of yourself, alright? Keep me updated all the time. No sugarcoating allowed.”
“Yes, Lieutenant.”
Rolling his eyes, he gives you another kiss and engulfs you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground that causes you to giggle.
“Okay, pack it up, love birds!” Seowon shouts.
The two of you turn to your brother who’s leaning on his car, the vehicle that was used to transport the three of you today. You’re still in the middle of moving your belongings at Jungkook’s place and Seowon was kind enough to volunteer helping, always dubious that you could do stuff on your own. Despite your reluctance, you let him assist you, mostly because you’re trying to make a conscious effort in not upsetting him again.
Let’s just say that when the judge hailed you husband and wife at the civil wedding, Seowon wasn’t thrilled to see that the kiss shared between you and Jungkook wasn’t as fake as the supposed sham marriage, leading him to the conclusion that in the middle of Jungkook’s ruse of convincing you to be his wife, something must have happened that led to your approval and that rather 18+ rated kiss. Mostly though, he’s just offended that neither of you thought of telling him that you were an official couple before the wedding.
Jungkook unwillingly places you down.
“I think I need to go,” you say.
He nods with a sigh. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too.”
“Call you tomorrow?”
“Yes.” You affectionately caress his cheek, bringing his face down for the very very very last kiss.
He leans into it. “Fuck, I don’t want to leave.”
“Seriously—hurry up!” Seowon shouts and you pull back.
“I will kill him,” you tell Jungkook.
“He’s your brother,” he says. “And now, my brother-in-law, so I can’t let you do that.”
“That might be your very first red flag, Jungkook, insinuating that you’re choosing my brother over me.” You cross your arms. “Tell me, if the both of us were drowning, would you save me or Seowon?”
“You,” he answers without missing a beat.
You narrow your eyes. “Is that the truth?”
“Of course. Seowon would probably undrown himself anyway and you’re shit at swimming. It’s an easy choice.”
You punch him hard on the shoulder and he feigns hurt, snickering. “For the record, I don’t think anyone can ‘undrown’ themselves—but fine, you pass the test.”
Jungkook faces Seowon’s direction and does a final salute, your brother returning it swiftly, and just like that, you and him share your last farewells. You watch as he goes through the entrance of the base and sends you a wave of goodbye; you weakly copy the gesture and stand there for a few seconds, just watching him fade from your view the further he trudges inside. You don’t think saying goodbye to him ever felt this heavy, and you blame it on the fact that after all this is the first time you’re saying goodbye to him with the assurance that he loves you too—and that alone weighs millions.
You spin on your heel and go to Seowon who’s already in the driver’s seat. As soon as you get in and wear your seat belt, he’s giving you a dirty look.
“What?” you ask.
“Please never do that in front of me again.”
His statement makes you smirk. “Why? Didn’t you want this?”
“Want what?”
“Me and Jungkook to be together.”
“When on earth did I say that?”
“You previously admitted that you were lowkey playing cupid by suggesting that Jungkook marry me for health insurance.”
A short pause. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have to watch you two reenact a porno every fucking time.”
“We’re not—”
“You are. Don’t deny it.” He grumbles. “God, every time I see you two, it’s like I’m Ross from that one Friends episode where he accidentally sees Monica and Chandler doing it from the window of his apartment.”
“Yeah, I remember that.” You laugh. “In my defense, you haven’t seen me and Jungkook actually do the deed so—”
“Wait, so the two of you have?”
Your expression drops. His tone is approaching older brother protectiveness territory and you’re quick to attempt diffusing the situation. “I will not dive into that. All I’m going to say is that I’m a grown adult and so is Jungkook.”
He grimaces before starting the engine. “Yeah, never dive into that. I don’t need to hear the details.”
You share a laugh and then silence fills the car.
You press your lips together, looking at him while he backs out from the parking spot. “Hey, thanks, by the way. For driving today, and for offering to help me later, and maybe for also never minding your own business.”
You recall how Seowon was the one who couldn’t stop worrying about you and finding a solution when you told your family that you had type 1 diabetes. Your parents were concerned, they pestered you for months to force you to accept financial assistance from them, but they gave up soon after. Seowon though? He never did. He persisted through every outburst you had; he tolerated your bitchiness and your dirty looks all the time. Out of everyone in your life, you always felt like regardless of how stubborn and prideful you could be, Seowon was worse—in the best way possible.
A crooked smile illuminates his face. “You’re my kid sister. It’s my job to never let you experience peace in your whole life.”
You scoff. “Well, you’re damn great at what you do.”
When you reach Jungkook’s apartment, unloading the boxes and arranging your stuff to its designated places, your heart swells in happiness as the reality sinks in that your life is heading in the right direction after months of feeling hopeless. It drives you to be more thankful to the little things, to the people who were always by your side, to your previous circumstance that although wasn’t ideal was still manageable. A lot don’t get to have that kind of privilege and you promise yourself that you’ll make an effort to find more things to be grateful about from this day forward.
“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Seowon approaches in the middle of you arranging your books on Jungkook’s near to empty shelf, “Winnie wanted to give you this. She would have handed it over herself but she’s going to be busy for the next few days.”
You take the frame from his hand and see that it’s the picture Winnie took of you and Jungkook after the ceremony. It’s in the restaurant that you ate at to celebrate the civil wedding. Jungkook was grinning at you with an arm around on the backrest of your chair, you were leaning towards him, smiling at the camera—and the absolute selling point of why this was the best picture ever taken was because of how cake icing was scattered on your faces, places on spots in an artistic manner like it was planted there on purpose for the picture and not because the both of you were being silly that instance.
You think it showcases your relationship with Jungkook marvelously. It’s playful, it’s sweet, and most of all, it demonstrates how you two are clearly great friends.
“This is so beautiful, Seowon,” you say.
You immediately send Winnie a heartfelt thank you message for the gift and continue to take a photo of the frame, sending it to Jungkook as well.
Once you hit send, you type out a message to accompany it.
You: look how cute we look 🥹
You’re certain it’ll take hours before he replies so you keep your phone again, going back to staring at the picture which is now placed on one of the shelves. It’s the sole picture frame you have with Jungkook. In fact, it’s the only picture that Jungkook has in his apartment, and you like to think that this might be the mark of the new beginning you’ll have with him. Even though your relationship wouldn’t be traditionally explored given his occupation and how he’s most likely going to be away a lot, you don’t mind.
If there’s one thing you really believe in, it’s that waiting for Jungkook—whether consciously or unconsciously—always brings out the best outcomes.
gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡
#jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook imagines#jeon jungkook#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook imagines#bts#bts imagines#bts x reader#bts drabbles#jungkook drabbles#bts scenarios#jungkook scenarios#jungkook x you#jeon jungkook x you#bts x you#jungkook fanfiction#bts fanfiction#jeon jungkook fanfiction
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
Dick on the phone, at 3 pm in the afternoon: Forgive me father for I have sinned.
Bruce, just woken up, squinting at the alarm clock: Dick it's 3 pm. what is this.
Dick, tearfully: My confession! I couldn't sleep, Bruce. I was the one who drove my hamster to suicide! I didn't feed him malt cookies like I was supposed to! He climbed on the exercise wheel and didn't stop running until he died.
Dick: *continues sobbing*
Bruce: okay so first of all.
Bruce: I'm not a priest.
Bruce: And second of all. Animals don't commit suicide.
Dick: Mari did!
Bruce: You named your male hamster after your mother...?
Dick: NOT THE POINT, BRUCE!
Dick: but yes.
Bruce, sighing: There's so much to unpack here I don't know where to start.
Dick: I killed him, Bruce. I should have died along with him!
Bruce:...
Bruce: It's possible that you've associated your hamster's death with the trauma of your parents' death, possibly because of shared names, and you've displaced your survivor's guilt from the first onto the second.
Dick:...
Dick: So what should I do.
Bruce: In my experience, the best way to deal with survivor's guilt is to save as many people as you can, possibly people in the same situation as the loved ones you have lost, hoping that the heroic nature of your deeds lets you sleep at night.
Dick: And what if that doesn't work?
Bruce: Then you drink. Get shitfaced drunk every time you feel a pang. Or you can pray to a nonexistent god and an uncaring universe.
Dick:...
Dick: If I come over, will you break out the good whiskey.
Bruce: I thought you'd never ask.
#batman#dc comics#bruce wayne#crack fic#dc fanfiction#funny#humor#batfamily#batkids#crack post#dick grayson#nightwing#robin#trauma#survivor's guilt#One shot#drabble#my fic#original#incorrect batfamily quotes#incorrect dc quotes#incorrect batman quotes#batman and robin#bruce wayne is a good dad#bruce wayne is a good parent#? i guess
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
Winter's Chance
Summary: It's Rafe's turn to have your son for the weekend, but it seems the weather wants you to spend the holidays together.
--Finally some Baby Daddy Rafe
With delicate rubs to your son's tummy, you desperately tried to get him to calm down with soft pleads and overeager soothing. He'd been fussing all day, so much that you'd called the doctor to make sure everything was okay.
They simply reassured you that it may just be a prolonged stage of fussiness. Most babies grow out of it around 4 months which is exactly where Max had just reached a few weeks ago.
Just when he was finally beginning to calm for a moment your ears are filled with the chime of your doorbell. Max picks up his crying as if he had never stopped. Your eyes roll, already knowing who is on the other side of the door.
You gently scooped him up to rest over your shoulder on top of the little binkie you tend to have thrown over your shoulder at all times for moments like this. He was cute, but the spit-up was never pretty and you were always prepared.
Opening the door from a distance you weren't expecting to see Rafe step in partially covered in snow. It distracted you momentarily before Max's cries cut through the shock.
"I know, I know." You whine, gently rocking him, backing away from the cold air that swept against your feet. "Hurry up, and close the door." His eyes roll, "Hello to you too." He closes the door and stomps off the snow from his boots before stepping out of them and hanging up his jacket.
"Woah, woah, what are you doing? This is just a pick-up, then you can have fun trying to calm him down at your place." Rafe stands still, his thumb gesturing to the door behind him, "You haven't seen the news, have you? They're closing the roads, so we're snowed in. The only reason I made it here is because of the suspension on my truck."
Your face turns sour and Max continues to cry.
"So why did you come in the first place if you knew you wouldn't be able to make it back?" He ignores your question for the most part, "Relax, baby. As excited as you are to see me, I didn't come for you. I came for my son. There he is," Rafe's expression lights up as he reaches for Max and takes him out of your hold.
"Rafe you can't just take him and expect him to calm-"
For the first time in seven hours, silence consumes the room. No more screams and tearful cries. "You've got to be fucking with me," You don't say it loudly, but Rafe still hears.
"Guess he was just missin' his daddy, huh? Isn't that right, Max?" Rafe's tone is playful as he pokes at Max's tummy which elicits tiny giggles and the brightest smile you'd seen all day.
You walk away, headed towards the kitchen. Not sure why you were moving so fast, Rafe was hot on your heels. "It's not your fault, it's probably just been a long day-" He finally shuts the fuck up with his smug remarks when he hears a soft cry, "Y/n," Your name rolls off his tongue, tender and sweet. "Baby, what's wrong?" Effortlessly, he supports Max with one hand while he reaches to turn you so you're facing him.
Your eyes are filled with tears, lips quivering ever so slightly and he knows what's coming. He's seen you like this more times than he can count. He takes you under his arm, your cheek pressed to his chest and you break down, muttering into the fabric of his hoodie.
He comforts you with a big hand rubbing your back, soothing you the way he learned from those parenting books that he swear he never read. "It's so hard, Rafe." Is all you manage to say through broken cries for the first five minutes before you're pushing off him, expression more angry than upset? "He was crying all day, and the second you walk in, he's perfectly fine."
Rafe's lips frown, puzzled. "And that's a bad thing?--"
"Yes! Why do you get to be Superman?!" Earlier, the sound of a pin drop would disturb Max from calming, but now even your exclamations left him unfazed, as long as he was in Rafe's arms he was unbothered.
As a matter of fact, with a second glance, you notice he'd actually fallen asleep. Just Perfect. Another win for Superman.
He chuckles, leading you both to have a seat on the couch. Your son sleeping soundly in his father's hold. "Well, I think I've got the abs for it." His shit-eating grin spreads across his lips.
"You try carrying a baby in your stomach for nine months, and you tell me if you still have abs after." Subtly, his tongue wets his lips at the memory, "All I remember is how good you looked pregnant. Shit, wanna do it again?" You'd never wanted to hurt someone so badly.
"You're lucky you're holding my son." He scoffs, leaning in slightly as if to speak away from the baby. "I seem to remember the two of us going half on the conception, and a few times after that." You air-swat him and stand, making your way for the stairs. "I'm going to take a nap."
The hours flew by as you finally had your first uninterrupted nap in what felt like years. By the time you woke up, the sun was long gone, and there was a thick layer of fresh snow sitting on your window pane. You headed downstairs and stopped at the bottom of the steps to appreciate the view.
Nothing melted you quite like the sight of Rafe taking care of Max. You hated to admit it, but he was a good dad. A really good one. Hot, too. Rafe held the bottle to Max's lips, murmuring some undistinguishable babbles with a soft smile. Surely speaking a language only the two of them can understand.
"I hope you warmed the bottle before you gave it to him." You say, and he finally notices you standing by the stairs, stalking your way over and sitting beside him.He ignores you, knowing that you're just trying to get under his skin. "You look well rested." He remarks and you sigh with a soft nod. "Yeah, I am actually." He grins to himself, "Must be a miracle to sleep well on that cheap-ass mattress you got up there."
"Sorry, we can't all have premium mattresses." Rafe pulls the bottle back once he realizes Max has had his fill. "Y'know my money is your money right? I give you ten thousand a month but everything I have is yours, too." Standing him up on his lap first, Rafe holds the baby over his shoulder, gently patting his back.
"Well, I don't need to live in a fifteen thousand sq ft house to be happy unlike you." He shakes his head slowly, his gaze falls on you, somber. "I seem happy to you? I don't give a shit how big my place is. It's always going to be empty without you two in it... " He trails off, alluding there's more to come.
"Rafe.. What are you saying?"
"Move in with me, again." Your head shakes before you sputter profuse denials, "No, Rafe, we can't we tried that before remember? We don't get along. Technically, we're not even together." The conversation is briefly interrupted by a small gurgled burp on Max's behalf.
Rafe leans down to place a drowsy Max in his rocker in front of the couch before sitting back up. "Things were different then, we were eighteen. I can't do the back-and-forth anymore. Don't you wanna wake up in the morning, see that Max is taken care of and I'm making you breakfast, then we go back to bed and I take care of you? Huh?" He hums, his voice igniting sparks along the length of your neck as he nosed along it.
"Rafe.." your voice is shaky, feeling the heat from the discussion.
"Whadd'ya say, hm?" You reflect, having Rafe stay with you today, in just a few short hours you'd been able to take a break, he held you when you cried like he always did. You'd hardly even fought. Though that was no surprise, the two of you fought considerably less ever since Max came into the picture.
"Okay, yes." You can feel the lines from his smile stretch against your jaw just before he begins to pepper kisses on your cheek. "Y'know, we made the world's cutest baby ever right?" You smile, both your gazes focused on the little one before you.
"He's got your eyes, for sure." Rafe states and you giggle, "You're just saying that because they're brown." He sits up straight, heartfully disagreeing. "I'm not. They're the same eyes that I fell in love with when I first laid my eyes on you, and the same ones that humbled me when they looked up at me for the first time in the NICU."
His words were touching. You're seeing a whole new side of him. Not the usually hot-headed and impulsive man you were used to. This one was sweeter, softer, and more sincere.
You reeled him in for the first kiss, his lips soft as they pressed against yours, his hands confidently holding you at your waist. "Ah, I see you're taking me up on my previous offer. Let's go for a girl this time, yeah?" He grins, and you pinch him.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x you#rafe cameron smut#rafe drabble#outer banks smut#rafe obx#outer banks imagines#rafe smut#rafe cameron blurb#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe blurb#rafe cameron imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#bsf!rafe#rafe cameron drabble#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron fic#drew starkey smut#drew starkey#obx fic#outer banks#outerbanks rafe#obx#dilf rafe cameron#dilf rafe#baby daddy rafe
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
— A BOY WHO’S JACKED AND KIND
jason todd x reader summary: you trick jason into participating in a certain tiktok trend a/n: a little drabble because I’ve been doomscrolling on tiktok and jason is most definitely jacked and kind and I need him desperately
You can tell that Jason is getting more annoyed by the second. He can’t continue reading his book for longer than five minutes at a time before glancing up at you from across the room with a curious frown. You move around the kitchen fixing yourself an iced coffee while absentmindedly scrolling through your phone and occasionally letting out a laugh or smiling.
By the sixth time you let out a snort, Jason decided he’s had enough and shuts his book, flinging it onto the coffee table before walking over to join you in the kitchen. “What’s making you smile that isn’t me, babe?”
“Huh?” You pull your eyes away from your phone to see Jason attempting a casual pose, leaning against the refrigerator, but he’s borderline pouting. You bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing at him and shake your head. “It’s nothing, just some videos.”
“What kind of videos?” he asks quietly, reaching out to start playing with a strand of your hair that’s escaped your claw clip as if by reflex. He’s still frowning slightly and you roll your eyes, deciding to put him out of his misery.
“Just a cute TikTok trend,” you explain, pulling one of the videos up as Jason peers at your phone eagerly. “See, you get your boyfriend to see if he can pick you up and put you on his shoulder. Some of them are really cute, but look, there’s some who can’t hack it.”
Jason nods slowly in revelation, still engrossed in the rest of the video that’s currently playing before he huffs and shakes his head. “How the hell is that guy struggling? Easy work,” he mumbles.
You’re about to tell him that not everyone has that Red Hood strength on their side before a plan starts forming in your head. Suppressing a smirk, you glance up at him and raise your eyebrows. “Oh yeah? You think you could do it better?”
Jason looks at you with a blank expression. “Was that a joke, or…?”
“I know you’re strong,” you say, shrugging as you nonchalantly take a sip of your coffee, turning away to hide your grin as you walk over to the living room. Jason is hot on your heels as expected. “I just don’t think you could do this as easily as you think.”
“Let’s go,” he says, clapping his hands together. You slowly turn around and tilt your head in questioning. “Let’s make the video, c’mon.”
Hook, line and sinker.
“Alright,” you sigh, setting down your coffee to prop your phone up against it. You pull up the app. “If you insist. Do you want your face in it or should we do it facing backwards?”
“I’ll just cover my face with my hand,” he waves you off, rocking on his heels impatiently. “I only need one of ‘em to lift you.”
He says it so matter-of-fact, and the knowledge that he’s not actually trying to boast has your mouth going dry. It doesn’t help that he’s now shucking off his hoodie and wearing a short-sleeve black t-shirt. His biceps flex as he flings the hoodie onto the couch and you resist the urge to forget about the video and pounce on him. Just for a second.
Clearing your throat, you busy yourself with pressing record and turning a timer on to allow you to step back towards Jason.
“Moment of truth,” you say, challenging him with your doubtful expression and he merely smirks. “Try not to pull any muscles.”
Jason snorts and goes to cover his face with one of his hands, the other already seeking out your waist.
“Wait, not yet!” you remove his arm to place it back at his side and he peeks through his other hand to let you see him rolling his eyes. When the timer is done, you allow yourself to grin, unrestrained and count to 3 in your head. “Okay, go.”
Before the audio has even played halfway through, Jason bends down slightly to factor in your height compared to his and his one large hand grips your hip to lift you off the ground. It feels effortless as he settles you on his shoulder, steady as a rock and you yelp, not expecting him to be that quick.
The rest of the video is you squealing as Jason unexpectedly spins you around in a circle, his one hand gripping your thigh as the other still covers his face. “Jay!” you shriek, looping your arms around his neck to steady yourself. The only reason you’re unsteady is because Jason’s shoulders are shaking with silent laughter.
The video stops recording when the audio ends and you tell Jason as much, making him drop the hand covering his face to grin up at you. He raises an eyebrow as if to say ‘I told you so’, before flexing his free arm for dramatic effect.
“See?” he says, rubbing small circles on your thigh with his thumb and talking up at you with all the ease of talking to you as if you were on the ground in front of him. “What did I say? Easy work, babe.”
“Big show off,” you say, wrinkling your nose at him as you begin to slide down his body. You go slowly, considering the man is basically a human skyscraper and he seems to take advantage of the fact, hands shamelessly roaming up your legs and your sides. He hooks your legs over his own waist, making you cling to him like a koala.
“Can I help you?” you ask, squinting at him when he doesn’t say anything, choosing to just stare at your face instead, drinking you in. You break his concentration by leaning in to press a short, sweet kiss onto his lips that he chases when you pull away. “Earth to Jason?”
“Y’know, I’d be more inclined to participate in your stupid TikTok trends if they all end like this,” Jason mutters, running his nose along your jaw and down your neck before nestling his face there. He doesn’t initiate anything, simply wanting to bask in the comfort of your skin.
You grin at the successful ending to your grand plan, disentangling yourself from your boyfriend to jump down, ignoring his groans of protest.
You run to your phone to save the video to your drafts - no one else needs to see how good Jason’s arms look in a tight black tee - and pull up your folder of couple TikToks. “Oh, well, if you’re finally offering,” you start saying, circling Jason’s wrist with your hand and pulling him onto the couch. He sighs, previously sweet smile being replaced by something skeptical. “I have a whole bunch of ideas.”
“This feels like a set-up.”
© angelfic 2024.
#jason todd x reader#jason todd#jason todd fic#jason todd imagines#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd fluff#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd drabble#jason todd x you#batboys x reader#jason todd x y/n#batboys x y/n#dc comics x reader#jason todd scenarios#red hood x reader#red hood x you#red hood imagine#jason todd imagine
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
ᯓ★ “ I WANNA FUCK WITH THE LIGHTS ON ” — clark kent.
MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: this movie isn’t out yet but i can’t wait that long to take advantage of my superman kick and fuck this man. unfortunately i don’t know much about his characterization other than the trailer content. WARNINGS: fem reader ノ established relationship ノ explicit sexual content ノ size difference ノ dick riding ノ objectification ノ p in v ノ praise ノ clark has huge dick syndrome.
“Just… take it slow.” CLARK KENT encourages, but it’s said more so for himself than you. A large, flattened palm emphasizes his instruction, gesturing for you to relax without grabbing you to take over your actions. You stop, his eyes flickering to meet yours questioningly, until he takes a shot in the dark. “Please.” It’s delightfully endearing, and it loosens you up a little.
“It’s not that, Clark, I’m just—you’re just so… you know,” Big. You try to hint at it without blurting it out. Hovering over his lap too long, a tremor builds in your thighs, and you bite down onto your lip as you let it pass through you in a shudder.
His expression adjusts as the realization dawns on him, “Ah,” he exclaims thoughtfully, and he tests the waters, bringing his hands to your body to rest in comfortable places. Your waist seems appropriate, and your fingers fiddle with the muscle in his shoulders as you keep chewing your lip. “Do you want me to take over?” the question is punctuated with a shift of his hips, arranging himself in a better position to begin, but even the marginal movement has you whining with need. It alerts him, tensing up instantly as he freezes while your pretty face twists in pleasured agony. You’re still wrapped around his reddened tip, and it’s a burning kind of stretch that makes you wish you could just shove him in all the way—at the cost of ripping you in half.
Through your heavy lids and thick eyelashes, you manage to meet his gaze with darkened pupils that don’t want to cooperate. You hum a pitiful “uh-huh” while you nod your head, signaling to him that he’s right. His thumbs on your torso stroke at your skin comfortingly, big hands clamped around you as he raises you. The lip of his head catches on the rim of your pussy, and you suck in a breath as an emptiness replaces what used to be filled.
“We’re gonna take it nice and easy,” Clark talks you through it, but even his exhale hitches when cold air hits his slit. Carefully, he lowers you back on, feeding his dick back into your silken walls before taking it away again—all to introduce your hole to his size little by little. The method chips away at your tightness, and you try to follow his movements with yours even if you’re weak in the knees. “Wanna look at me, duchess? Let me see your eyes?” He tilts his head, his curls falling over his forehead as he chases your gaze. You do your best to peel your eyes open one-by-one, granting him his wish as you pant through your open mouth taking his cock one agonizing inch at a time. The sight of you barely holding on when he’s not even halfway in, stretches a smile onto his face, and if you were more coherent, you’d say it’s one of pride as well as endearment.
One hand cautiously releases your side, while the other takes your weight entirely, bobbing you up and down as if you were no heavier than a fleshlight. His other slides between you two to seek out your pretty bud, resting his thick fingers on your thigh while his thumb comes to stroke at that clit. The new sensation slicks you up as quickly as it occurred, and you gasp at how elevated it all feels from a simple action like that. “That’s what you were missing. Right, baby? It’s hard to loosen up without it. You’re so tight…” You know he didn’t say it like it’s a compliment, but it makes your insides jump anyway. Your muscle contracts and suddenly he can fit a lot more in. “Does that feel good?” he asks, his thumb leisurely circling your bud as your pussy drools around him.
Desperately, you nod your head with a couple of “mm-hmm’s!” that lead him to speed up—introducing you to more of his length as he picks up the pace on petting your clit. Your hands abandon gripping his shoulders for stability and instead overlay his. Yours are dwarfed by him, but he takes your guidance, absorbing how you’re putting pressure on his knuckles and replicating it against your poor pearl, getting puffy from the stimulation and the lack of getting railed. It all lights a fire under your ass, and your body moves for you, bouncing in place to try and force more of his cock into you. You can’t overpower the Superman, but he does let you take it all down to the hilt—his strength making a sex toy out of you.
#6k#indy: drabbles#ch: clark#clark kent drabble#clark kent smut#clark kent x reader#clark kent x fem reader#clark kent x you#clark kent x y/n#clark kent imagine#clark kent fanfiction#superman smut#superman x reader#superman 2025 smut#david corenswet smut#superman 2025#david corenswet#reader insert#smut
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
Ain't Right
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: You have a major (borderline obsessive) crush on Joel, and you're on a mission to fuck him.
Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, age gap (56/20), swearing, fingering (fem!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, size kink, cum eating, name calling, kinda mean Joel, alcohol, vomiting, an extremely brief mention of suicide
Disclaimer: I lowkey don't know the logistics of the show so if some things are wrong please look over it I'm just trying to write smut about Joel Miller godbless.
Ain't Right part 2
Ever since that tortured old man showed up in Jackson, your life hasn't been the same.
Tommy's older brother, and your absolute undoing.
When Joel Miller rode into town, it was like everything suddenly made sense. The skies got clearer, the air smelled better, and the birds even chirped their love songs louder.
Everything about him drew you in; his cold demeanor, stoic face, tired eyes—but gentle around those he cared about, which was only a few select people.
And you certainly were not one of those select people.
Joel didn't know what to think about you.
To him, you were odd. Yes, you were undoubtedly the most beautiful girl in Jackson, but he felt distance between the two of you was essential.
He felt this way because he knew.
Joel wasn't oblivious to your stares; he might've been an old man, but he remembered the laws of attraction fairly well.
He didn't like the thought of you liking him.
You were young, attractive, and had plenty of age-appropriate prospects just begging for your attention. Every boy in Jackson wanted a piece of you—but you only had eyes for Joel.
He was getting old and tired, ain't no reason why you should be so fond over him.
He also didn't like that you made your attraction so obvious. It made people whisper, and Joel about had enough teasing from Tommy.
"You gonna let that young thing jump your bones or what, Joel?" Is an example of the few things his brother would chirp at him whenever you were around and had eyes on him like he was a target.
So, all things considered, it's no surprise when Joel is reluctant to make a supply run with you.
You had begged Tommy to let you go out and finally start pulling your weight, carefully adding that Joel would be a great teacher for a first timer like yourself.
You stand near the truck, squeezing the straps of your backpack while watching Joel and Tommy whisper to themselves a couple feet away.
"You can't find anyone else?" Joel growls lowly, narrowing his eyes at his insufferable brother who he’d really like to strangle right now.
"Are you seriously scared of a twenty year old girl, Joel?" Tommy asked exasperatedly, throwing his arm out in disbelief. "It'll take two hours tops, what the hell are you so scared of?" Joel is exhaling through his nose, dragging a hand down his jaw in complete disgruntlement.
"You know what the hell I'm scared of Tommy—goddammit," He gets in his brother’s face before realizing you’re still watching them.
He takes a moment to back up and calm down, breathing out through his nose.
"I do not need this town thinkin' I am encouraging this girls...feelin's." He murmurs lowly.
Tommy rolls his eyes before shoving Joel's backpack into his chest.
"Just don't fuck her, Joel. How hard could it be?"
Joel watches as Tommy turns his back and walks away, leaving just you and him.
Joel had spent a lot of time making sure he was never in a situation alone with you—now he was about to be your unsupervised mentor.
He feels a groan try and crawl its way out his throat, but he pushes it down.
He starts walking to the truck, not even looking at you as he passes and yanks the driver side door open with more force than necessary.
"Let's make this quick." He grunts out, climbing inside.
You do the same, only with a little bit more enthusiasm. ***
The trip is a complete bust.
Joel barely paid you any attention, no matter how many flirty gestures you made at him.
You'd say something remotely suggestive and he'd either glare at you, or just flat out ignore you.
But you were relentless. Giving up on him wasn't in the cards for you, no matter how many judgmental looks he casted your way.
You guys had been driving back to town for around five minutes; Joel has kept his eyes firmly on the road in fear of you sparking a conversation with him.
But you do anyways.
You turn your body to face him in the bench seat, your eyes cascading down his breath-taking side profile.
You zoned in on the gray patches of his beard, and how his face had the remnants of a long, unforgiving life weaved into his wrinkles and scars.
You're momentarily rendered speechless by his looks before he side-eyes you.
"What?" He huffs out, not being able to handle your intense stare any longer.
"Why not?"
A beat.
"What?" He asks again, his brows furrowing together, an annoyed and confused expression painting his features.
"Why won't you fuck me?"
Joel physically winces at your language, scoffing in what looks to be disgust as he starts shaking his head.
"We're not starting this." He snaps firmly, a tone in his voice that you haven't heard before.
Completely disregarding his words, you start.
"Is it because I'm not pretty enough?" Joel groans out, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Is it because there's someone else?" He's close to snapping. "Is it because you can't get it up? I heard thats a problem with guys your age-"
Joel slams on the brakes, sending you lurching forward. He shoves the truck into park before turning to face you, a scary look on his face.
"I am not going to fuck you--Christ almighty," Joel raises his voice at you.
You're staring at him, wide eyes and lips parted in surprise. You weren't really expecting this.
"you're bustin' my fuckin' balls, Look kid," He starts up again, this time with a softer tone. "M'about 40 years too old for you-"
You cut him off with a murmur. "36, I did the math."
"Same damn thing," he snaps, shaking his head. "Point is—you don't needa be wastin' your time with me; there are plenty boys your age that will satisfy your...you."
You scoff in his face but try to disguise it by clearing your throat.
"I'm not asking you to marry me, Joel," You start, a sad smile spreading across your lips. "S'just sex." You say with a shrug, blush coating your cheeks because now your mind is imagining sex with him.
He stays silent and looks away from you, closing his eyes like he couldn’t believe this was happening.
That urges you to say more.
"I won't tell anyone," You're practically whispering, looking down at your fidgeting hands in your lap. "I'd let you do anything you wanted to me."
Joel's heart cinches in his chest at your words, mostly because he can tell you're being so genuine.
Why the hell did you like him so much? He just couldn’t understand it.
But he can't entertain this any longer because he knows if he did, he'd give into you.
"I don't wanna hear another goddamn word outta your mouth." Joel says in a strikingly even and calm tone, putting the truck into drive and continuing back.
He's eerily silent, and so is the rest of the trip because you're too dejected to speak.
Eventually, you both arrive home and you're fast to get out of the truck.
You slam the door and keep your head down as you walk away, snow crunching beneath your boots.
Joel takes his time, watching you storm off with tired eyes.
He feels bad for being so rough on you, but he figured it was the only way to get you to stop liking him.
Tommy walks up, a concerned look on his face as he looks back between you and Joel.
"Guessin' you didn't fuck her."
***
Nobody had seen you in days.
The pain of rejection had you in a mental place that you had never experienced before.
No one has ever denied you—ever.
The situation was 100x worse considering you actually liked Joel, and he wasn't just another toy to play with.
Joel figured his life would get easier with you not around, and it kinda did in some aspects.
But he couldn't stop the gnawing feeling of guilt slowly eating at him like a parasite.
He'd been cruel to you in the way he went about things, and he felt bad.
Had he really broken your heart? He didn't know you liked him that much.
He sits in his living room, contemplating how to go about this entirely fucked up situation.
He debates making amends with you, apologizing and rejecting you again but in a gentler way.
He deliberates on his plan of action while nursing a glass of whiskey before he's interrupted by three bangs on his front door, followed by a screeching: "JOEL"
He mutters a 'what the fuck' under his breath, walking to the door and picking his 9mil up on the way.
His eyes widen when he sees you-standing there in all your glory.
It's the middle of winter and snowing like hell, yet you're wearing shorts and a tank top with a beer bottle in your hand.
"Jesus, kid-what the fuck," Joel ushers you inside quickly, taking his big jacket off the coatrack and draping it over you.
He also tosses his gun to the side, obviously you were no threat.
"You tryin' to get frostbit? Christ," he's swearing and muttering profanities as he guides you over to the couch, now basically swaddling you in blankets.
You've never been inside his house before, only ever walked passed it a few times. It smells like him.
You, however, smell like alcohol and bad decisions.
Joel picked up on how drunk you were the minute you stumbled through the door. He takes the bottle from your hand and sets it aside somewhere, glaring at you like how a mad parent would.
"The hell are you doin' out in the snow like that? Fuckin' death wish or somethin'?"
His words are kinda fuzzy in your ears, you're so drunk that you barely even register them.
An unprompted giggle spills from your lips as you shake your head at him.
"It's not snowing silly," You chide, making him out to be an idiot when, in actuality, it's a damn blizzard outside.
He knows from that statement alone that you are way off your rocker tonight.
"How much have ya had to drink, kid?" Joel asks, raking a hand through his graying hair.
"Don't call me kid," You snap, a quick flash of anger in your expression. "M'not a kid."
Joel rolls his eyes so hard that he probably caused a tsunami on the other side of the world.
“Yeah yeah, whatever. What are you doin’ here?” He asks exasperatedly, dragging a hand down his jaw while looking at your trembling figure.
There’s a long pause before you answer. You just got distracted by his big brown eyes.
“Jus’ wanted to say hi.” You murmur, unable to tear your gaze away from his face.
“Say hi?” He reiterates, looking at you like you’ve actually lost your mind.
You probably have.
After a moment, Joel can’t help but chuckle in disbelief, letting his body lean back against the couch.
The absurdity of it all turned humorous to him.
Here you are, sitting in his living room, practically nude with only his coat and blankets protecting your modesty, having just trekked through the snow all for what? To say hey?
You’re still sitting there, motionless and trying to remember how to breathe because his laughing face has your heart lighting off fireworks.
“Fuckin’ hell—hi.” Is all he says, turning his head to the side to look at you as he crosses his arms over his chest.
You smile like a dope at him, so extremely happy to be there in his company.
But the alcohol in your system is fighting you, and you’re finding it hard to keep your eyes open.
“S’it cool if I say the nigh?” You slur, falling vertically on the couch, your head crashing onto Joel’s thigh.
You nuzzle your cheek against the fabric of his jeans and Joel is just about to gently push you off, but he stops himself.
You look so comfortable and so at peace that Joel can’t do anything except stare at you.
Your cheek is slightly smushed, your lips are parted, your eyes are shut and don’t plan on opening—it’s insane to him how at home you looked.
Like you belonged here, head rested on his lap.
Fuck.
He was fucked this time.
He doesn’t move you. Instead, he fixes the blankets on top of you so you’re fully covered, and sits there with you the entire night.
He’s really gone soft.
***
When morning comes, you’re first to wake up, accompanied by a splitting headache.
You don’t even notice how Joel’s hand had fallen onto your waist some time during the night because you’re too busy making a b-line for the bathroom.
You chuck your guts up into the toliet, clutching the porcelain and groaning out in pain.
Joel wakes up to the sound of your hurling, momentarily disoriented before he remembers last nights events.
He’s quick to come to your aid in the bathroom, wasting no time gathering your hair in his fist to get it out of your face.
"S'right, get it all out," He murmurs out encouragingly, seemingly unfazed by the disheveled sight of you.
You’re too sick to be embarrassed, that’ll come later surely.
He sits on the wall of the tub as he continues holding your hair back, yawning every now and then like this was just a regular Tuesday morning.
Eventually, by the mercy of God, you get it all out of your system and slump up against the wall.
“M’sorry,” You immediately apologize, figuring that is the only right move in this situation.
“Don’t be. Been through plenty'a that in my day.”
His words are uncharacteristically reassuring and you find yourself taken back by them.
You soon realize this is probably just the hazy morning Joel, the Joel where he isn't worried about anything except coffee and breakfast—like everything wrong in his life is put on the back burner for this short minute in time.
“I’ll get you some water and Advil, sit tight.” He grunts before standing up on his feet, knees popping as he walks out.
You watch as he leaves, wiping the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand.
Aside from the vomit part, you could get used to this.
You've never seen him so...domestic. His hair was all messy, his voice was raspy, he had that morning haze over his features that you felt so honored to witness.
You suddenly felt compelled to look at your own appearance, hopping to your feet and looking in the dirty mirror.
You resist the urge to audibly gasp at your reflection, opting for a disgusted look instead.
Your hair is a rats nest, your clothes are a mess, and your mascara has rubbed off in black smudge all over the skin around your eyes.
In a desperate attempt to look at least semi-presentable, you wash your face with water and comb through your hair with your fingers.
The idea that Joel had seen you looking like that was making your stomach churn again.
Before you can grovel about it any longer, he rounds the corner with a glass of water and little brown pills in his hand.
“Here,” He says softly, handing you the water and tilting the pills into your open palm. “Take these ‘n drink all that water and ya should get to feelin’ better.”
You do as he says, swallowing the Advil in one go before taking a big sip to wash it down.
His eyes drift down to your shoulder, where your tank top strap has fallen. No doubt from all that vigorous throwing up you were doing moments ago.
Without thinking, his fingers graze your forearm before bringing the strap back up to its correct position, clearing his throat in the process.
A beat of silence falls over the both of you.
You’re gobsmacked by the complete nonchalance of his touch, staring at him with your mouth slightly open in shock.
“What?” He asks defensively, his tone pointed.
You look between him and your shoulder strap, then slowly move to set your water down.
“Are you sure we can’t fuck?”
“Goddammit—” Joels cursing before you can even finish saying the last word in your sentence.
He turns away from you, probably the fastest you’ve seen anyone turn in their life, and walks towards his room with an accelerating pace.
He shakes his head in disbelief all the way down the hall, pivoting on his heel to duck into his bedroom.
You follow him, not really fazed by how he completely refused to answer your question, though you didn’t think he would anyway.
Before you can step foot into the threshold of his room, Joel walks out, causing you to back up.
He shoves a stack of clothes in your direction, looking down at you with a frustrated face. “Put these clothes on and go home.”
You look down, realizing he was letting you borrow a sweater and jeans of his so you didn’t die walking back to your house from the cold.
Your heart warms at this thoughtfulness.
Without wasting any time, you take the clothes from his hands, smiling happily. “Can I keep them?”
“Why the hell would you wanna keep my clothes?” He’s got that confused/angry look on his face as he asks, and you have to suppress a giggle at the sight of it.
You bring the pieces of fabric up to your nose and inhale, humming as you breathe out again. “They smell like you.”
“Christ,” Joel beings his hands up to rub at his eyes. “Fine, do whatever. Just hurry up and change, jesus,"
Ever the tease, you set down his clothes and begin to lift your tank top like you planned to change right in front of him.
Joel's hands shoot out to stop you, a 'don't try me,' look on his face.
"Put them on over your clothes," Joel says sternly, watching the way you sigh because you weren't fast enough in lifting your tank top off.
However, you sieze the opportunity in front of you.
Joel's hands are holding yours down, so you work to intertwine your fingers, invading his space by stepping forward.
"Or, you could take my clothes off," You purr, your chest now flush with his torso.
Joel exhales through his nose, his jaw clenching as he tried deciding how he was going to get out of this situation.
But then he paused.
Looking down at you now, so eager and wide eyed, made him wonder.
If he fucked you, and made you realize it wasn't what you were probably imagining in your head, maybe then you'd finally leave him alone.
He would just...pretend to be awful at sex.
(Even though it had been so long and he wasn't sure if he'd actually need to 'pretend' anymore.)
There's a long silence that drags out between the both of you.
Your stomach is doing flips because it's looking like he's finally going to agree.
His resolve cracks and Joel can't do anything but sigh in defeat.
Slowly, Joel pulls you back into his room, closing the door behind you both.
Time is moving in slow motion.
You can't believe it's finally happening.
He guides you back until the back of your knees hit his bed, prompting you to sit down on it.
"I'm only going to do this once," Joel's voice is uncharacteristically low and calm, and it has your core tightening.
You nod in acknowledgement, waiting to see what he's going to do next.
With care, he pushes your shoulder down so you're laying on your back. "Are you sure you want this?" He asks, brown eyes searching yours.
"Have I not made it obvious?" You quip, a giggle following shortly after.
Joel only shakes his head before his fingers latch around the fabric of your shorts, pulling them down and off your legs.
"S'pose you have." He murmurs, scratching the back of his neck.
You're vibrating with excitement and you repeat what you tried earlier, only this time succeeding with taking your top off.
Of course, you're not wearing a bra.
Joel realizes in that moment that he bit off way more than he could chew.
He hasn't seen breast that weren't on a soggy piece of paper in at least a few years, and yours--well, his cock stood no chance.
You hear him swallow, watching as he can't seem to stop staring at your chest.
Realizing that he might need a little encouragement to start speeding things along, you smile up at him and whisper, "touch me Joel".
Yeah, screw this. His plan of pretending to be bad was now entirely forgotten—he was going to do what he wanted, so help him god.
He huffs out a curse before sliding a hand up your torso, stopping once he's fully cupped one of your breasts in one hand. He kneads it like dough while using his other hand to disappear under your panties.
A choked moan erupts from your lips once you feel his fingers brush along your clit, rubbing around and spreading your slick around all too slowly.
"haven't even done anythin' yet and you're already fuckin' soaked..." He murmurs really to just himself, his eyes casting down to watch as he rips your underwear off impatiently.
"M'always like this whenever you're around," you mewl to spur him on, spreading your legs wider.
"Oh you are, huh?" Joel repeats back, the tiniest bit of cruelty in his tone that makes you shiver.
You nod, bucking your hips into his hand desperately.
"don't get why you like an old man like me, s'gross." His tone is flat but it's clear he's teasing by the way he curls his fingers inside of you. He's not really expecting a response, but you feel compelled.
You lurch forward, gasping at the feeling. "I really like you," You rush out breathlessly. "I'd do anything you wanted me to." You say earnestly as you stare into his eyes, loving what you're seeing.
Joel remembers when you told him that the first time, his heart cinching the same way it did then.
Joel is at war with himself. One side of him is screaming that this whole situation is fucked up and he is better off without you.
Another part of him thinks that this is the most he’s ever felt in a long time. And he doesn't want to lose it.
You can see the gears turning in his head. His fingers have slipped from you and you wince at the loss.
Slowly, you sit up. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, your nipples pressing into his shirt.
He's confused and momentarily panicked when your faces get so close together, his hands seeking purchase on your hips.
In an unexpected move, you rake your hands through the side of his hair, looking lovingly at his face.
"I just wanna be someone for you," You murmur, your face breaking a little as Joel's resolve also cracks. "Doesn't matter what. I'm very versatile." You mumble the last part to try and lighten the mood.
Joel just stares at you—something swimming behind his eyes that you can't quite place.
Eventually, he crashes his forehead against yours, sighing out.
"You're makin' this fuckin' impossible." He rasps before kissing you with a passion you've never felt before.
You feel victorious.
He's finally given in to you.
Eagerly, you kiss back, wrapping your legs around his torso and grinding your bare cunt against the bulge in his jeans.
"Then stop trying so hard to get rid of me," You sigh out, chasing his lips even as you're trying to speak.
He groans and you catch it in your mouth, the pressure on his clothed cock making him dizzy.
“Fuck,” He’s quick to unbuckle his belt, sliding it out of the loops and tossing it somewhere on the floor. “Lay back.” He demands and you immediately follow suit.
He's never been that...assertive with you before. It makes you tingle all over.
He looks starved as he peers down at you, specifically your cunt.
He literally can’t tear his eyes off your sex—he only looks up to your gaze when you let out an impatient whine.
He rips down his pants, letting his cock spring free and slap against his stomach.
Now you can’t tear your eyes away from his sex.
You’ve only dreamt it so many times, but now that it’s finally in front of you—it all just feels surreal.
It’s better than you imagined, perfect.
“I don’t have a—”
You know what he’s about to say so you cut him off immediately. “S’okay, like it raw. Closer to you that way.” You murmur.
Joel looks physically pained that he’s not inside you right now. For some reason, you just know all the right things to say.
“Closer to me?” He huffs out, hooking his arms around your thighs and pulling you down to the edge of the bed where he stood.
Now your cunt is flush with the base of his member and the sensation drives you both insane. “You’re fuckin’ insane.”
Joel rasps, but the way he says it reveals just how far he’s fallen. He knows you’re crazy, and yet here he is, balancing you out.
He glides his member back and forth against your folds, gathering up your wetness with a clenched jaw and furrowed brows.
He looks so concentrated—meanwhile you’re writhing with pleasure and impatience. Your cunt is clenching around nothing, desperate for him.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs to himself, eyes tracing all over you.
You freeze.
Joel had complimented you for the first time, and it was genuine.
He notices you stiffen and takes a moment to pause.
Your entire body erupts with goosebumps, your heart beating at exceptionally fast speeds.
He's worried for a second that something is horribly wrong.
“What?” He asks, confused at what’s got you so wound up.
Your face is flushed red as you bashfully giggle. “You called me pretty.”
Ah fuck.
Joel finds you so charming it hurts.
After he remembers how to breathe again, he rolls his eyes and clears his throat.
“I have my cock to your cunt, of course I find you pretty.”
You smile and shrug. “Still. Nice to hear.” You’re all smiles until his tip prods at your entrance, causing a gasp to leave your throat.
He continues to apply pressure with his tip and it’s driving you crazy.
“Fuck Joel—are you trying to kill me?” You whine, hips wiggling to get him in.
He scoffs and shakes his head. “Relax, m’almost there.”
Slowly, he begins pushing his way inside. His mushroom head breaches you entirely and it feels like you can hear the angels singing.
He continues forward, the stretch being mainly around the middle of his thick cock.
But you’re taking it like a champ.
Joel braces himself with hands on both sides of your torso as he bottoms out, a groan crawling its way out of his throat.
The sensation is absolutely delicious.
A little bit of pain from the stretch, but so much pleasure from the fullness.
“Joel, ohmygod you feel so good inside me.” You moan, throwing your head back.
Your hips start moving on their own, but he immediately stops you with two large hands.
“D-Don’t move—fuck.” Joel grumbles out, his face pinched together in what looked like pain.
You’re confused for a moment, thinking maybe that he might just be really into cockwarming.
But then it hits you.
“Were you gonna come?” The tone in your voice makes it seem like you’d be elated if that was the case—like the most flattering thing in the world.
Joel looks pissed that you caught on so quick.
In truth, the moment he put his tip in, he was holding back his orgasm.
Can you blame him? He’s only fucked his hand for the last couple years.
“S’been a while.” Is all he can say, his chest heaving up and down in concentration. You know he’s embarrassed, but you can’t help but smile like a dope at him.
“If you come, please do it inside, please,” you beg, reaching out for his arms that caged you in.
Joel's rational mind feels like it just touched down in looney town after hearing your begging.
He feels crazy because he liked the thought of the idea you proposed. You even see him hesitate. But then he scoffs and shakes his head.
Joel drops down closer to your face, slowly starting to rock his hips into you. "Tryin' to baby trap me, girl?" He grunts in your ear, making you moan out.
Your walls are clenching down on him, and it’s making it that much harder to hold back. “No-no, promise, just wanna be full of you." You manage to blubber out...unconvincingly.
You probably didn't really want a baby with Joel, but your lust-driven brain was working on fumes and you just wanted to do what felt good.
Joel's grunting in your ear was not helping things. His fingers were gripping your hip so hard, you figured it would probably bruise tomorrow
Good. You wanted whatever he would give you.
"Christ--m'not gonna last much longer," Joel groans, picking his head up a little to meet your gaze. He wanted to kick himself for not being able to last, but when he saw your face, all those feelings disappeared.
You looked so--perfect. Soaking up the moment in case it was the last, god you hoped it wasn't the last time. Now that you've finally had a tase of him, you weren't sure you could live without it.
Your legs tighten around his waist, keeping him firmly in your cunt. Joel notices this and also your pleading eyes, a growl leaving his throat.
"Please, please, please, please," you beg, never breaking eye contact with him as his thrusts pick up speed.
He ruins your long string with pleas with a needy kiss, shoving his tongue down your throat like a starving man.
You accept it happily, moaning out into the kiss while Joel manhandles your hips to take his cock.
The feeling is damn near euphoric for both you and him. It gets even better when Joel's hand comes down to rub at your clit again.
Your back arches off the bed as you gasp and moan out, wrapping your arms back around his shoulders. "F-Fuck!" You moan into his ear, probably drooling on his shoulder in the process. "thankyouthankyouthankyou-" you sputter out in choked sobs. He was really good at working on your clit, you couldn't do anything else but thank him for it.
Joel feels a surge of something when he hears you. He's never had a woman thank him in bed before.
It's enough to push him over the edge. And apparently you too.
"I'm gonna come Joel, please don't stop," There are pools of tears in your eyes that Joel is just now noticing. He's about to reply to you, but he finds himself speechless when he feels your cunt start constricting and fluttering around him like a vice.
"Fuck!" He groans out loudly, his hips starting to falter in their rhythm. But then he picks up speed again, and in no time he's like a madman jackhammering into you.
You're a mess of screams and cries and moans underneath him, happily taking everything he was giving you.
When Joel feels himself about to come, he notices how your legs are still tightly wrapped around him, keeping him inside, and he manages to scoff out.
"Gotta let me go baby," You've never heard that pet name from him before, and it makes you crumble. His hands move to grab at your thighs, kneading the flesh there.
You whine out but reluctantly release the grip your legs had on him. Joel doesn't waste time before hugging both your legs on his chest, keeping them firmly placed while your feet squirmed by his ear.
"Atta girl," he murmurs before picking up speed again, his cock head pressing into your cervix.
It's all too much for you. Joel looks so amazing pounding into you from above, his concentrated face, his sweat, the way his salt and pepper hair is all disheveled, you're losing your mind.
Your core is on fire and you can't stop yourself.
In a staggering turn of events, you come first.
Your walls come down like bricks on his dick, you cry out, throwing your head back in complete bliss and ecstasy.
Seeing and feeling this, Joel is quick to follow in your steps. He rips himself from that warm hole of yours and pumps himself dry onto your stomach.
You watch it all with wide eyes, you wouldn't have missed Joel's orgasm face for the world!
Of course, his eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth was open as he was breathing heavily, and his eyebrows turned down like he was mad.
God he was so beautiful.
His thick ropes of cum shoot all over your stomach and even your breasts as he jerks himself off to completion.
When he finishes, he takes a moment to catch his breath, finally opening his eyes to see you scoop up his cum from your breast with your finger and shove it in your mouth.
Your tongue swirls around his seed and you swallow eagerly, humming out in satisfaction at the taste of him.
Joel's watching in complete fascination, though his expression looks a little angry. When does it not?
"taste so good," you mumble with your finger still in your mouth, looking up at him with your big eyes.
He moves before he can think about it--ripping your hand away from your lips and caging you in a slow but deep kiss.
He soon falls down beside you and soon rolls over onto his back, his chest rising and falling from the excursion.
You curl into his side, watching his side profile so intently. You had just fucked Joel Miller.
And it was everything you had dreamed of. Extreme happiness doesn't even begin to describe your feelings right now.
There's a long stretch of silence that drapes over the both of you. Eventually, Joel breaks it with something extremely off topic.
"Last night...you didn't just come here to say 'hi', did you?"
You're momentarily speechless, not expecting that question from him at all. But you can't stop a giggle from coming through your lips.
"Actually, I came to confront you." Your voice is soft as you begin speaking, thinking back to last night's ordeal.
Joel doesn't expect this answer, his head turns to look at you while you speak. His arm comes down to drape over your shoulder.
"I was really upset cus you rejected me n'all. I just couldn't accept the whole, 'age gap' excuse. I wanted to know if you just really didn't like me or not." You're murmuring, drawing soft lines with your finger on the skin of Joel's chest.
He huffs out a breath at the explanation, shaking his head. "Guess you got your answer, huh." He grumbles out, somewhat ashamed of himself that he couldn't hold back.
You smile and lean up to kiss his cheek. "I did," you chirp happily, admiring his face again. "You know you're gonna have to fuck me, like, everyday now, right?"
You're kidding. But you're also not at all.
Joel scoffs and sits up, moving to pick up both his and your shirts. "Fat chance. Barely had enough stamina for one round." He grunts out, finding the neck hole in your tank top and putting it over your head for you.
You don't bother to pull it down over your breasts so Joel does it for you.
"It's okay, we can build up your tolerance over time." You quip with a teasing smile, loving the way Joel turned to glare a you.
He couldn't believe the youth these days.
#joel miller#joel tlou#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#the last of us hbo#smut#one shot#drabble#tlou fanfiction
3K notes
·
View notes