#it doesn’t look like Curt but the lighting are | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vngelicc · 7 months ago

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w e c a n ’ t b e f r i e n d s

⋆ TAGS — ANGST like rlly bad, toxic relationships, oc and jk dated since they were young, canon au but the boys don’t go to the military, arguing (lots), protected sex, cowgirl styleee, jk’s a little mean, dirty talk, jk’s slightly possessive(?), pussy eating under the sheets, slight face fucking and cum swallowing, bad ending oop, hinted cheating but not between oc and jk, does it count if they weren’t together ur honor, making out, jk’s a really bad bf, oc’s also quick to jump to conclusions sooo toxic combooo

⋆ WORD COUNT — 9.8 k

It’s the same thing (over and over) where you fight and break up, then kiss and make-up. The cycle’s everlasting and it feels like you’re just going in circles.

The littlest things were enough to set either one of you off. It could be that Jungkook looked at you some type of way, or that you used a tone he didn’t like. You fought over the dumbest things but somehow always ended up back together?

Childhood sweethearts, they called it. You started dating all the way back when you were just teens, Jungkook was a bit awkward around the edges but the sweetest boy ever. It was a miracle your relationship survived after he left to train and then you did too.

But as the years went on it seemed sometimes like the love was fading. It just wasn’t the same anymore (evident in your frequent fights). What felt like love once now felt stagnant, like you two just existed in each other’s world and co-existed together.

Yes he was your boyfriend, and you his girlfriend but that was all. Just y/n and Jungkook. It didn’t feel special anymore. When did the love start to die out?

You’ve been thinking about it for a while now in between your breaks from the relationship, and the very thought terrifies you.

“I thought you and Eunwoo were going out?” You softly asked, a bit surprised to see Jungkook still here in the living room.

“Change of plans.” Jungkook shrugs, “Something came up.” He’s curt and brief, doesn’t even look at you when he’s talking which annoys you a tiny bit but for your sake and his you don’t comment.

“Oh, that sucks,” you softly say and slip onto the couch opposite of him, “did he cancel on you or was it just not a good time?” You’re sitting on pins and needles watching him and his reactions closely.

“I dunno,” Jungkook sighs like he’s exasperated by the conversation, “he didn’t tell me.” You know he’s starting to get annoyed when he does that thing with his tongue inside his cheek.

“You wanna watch a movie?” You quietly ask. You’re worried Jungkook didn’t hear you at first but a couple of seconds later he’s nodding and holding out the remote to you.

It doesn’t feel right. It makes you feel like he’s generously giving you the light of day to entertain your “silly ideas”. You don’t like it.

You go about picking a movie, not even bothering with asking him what he wanted to watch. You doubt he’d even reply to you, maybe if you were lucky he’d just say “Pick whichever one.”

“I heard this one’s good.” A hum, “Came out—I think, last month..? Yeah.” Another hum, “Should I bring snacks?” Head shake.

You kinda get the memo and shut up after that, the ache you’re feeling still lingering in your heart. The credits roll in and the movie’s starting, you look out of the corner of your eye to get a look at Jungkook. He’s just sitting there quietly, eyes focused on the TV screen.

It feels normal—looks normal, but you know and feel that it’s really not.

After arguing with yourself in your head, you finally muster the courage to slip off the couch and into Jungkook’s side. You hide your face in his shoulder and lean against him comfortably. Jungkook doesn’t respond for two seconds before he’s casually slipping his hand over your knee.

It feels..good again. You, Jungkook, and his thumb that caresses your knee ever so gently like you’re made of glass. Maybe you really were worried about nothing. It was probably your head messing with you again and making you think things that weren’t true.

Are they though? I don’t know.

“Oh how prettyy,” you softly marvel at the white dress the actress on screen was wearing, “I wanna have one like that when we get married.”

Jungkook doesn’t utter a word and at first you’re like okay, it’s whatever he’s been doing this already anyways. You don’t really begin to think about it until you feel gentle caresses come to a stop. You turn to him to ask what’s wrong but you think you have your answer.

“What, you don’t wanna marry me?” You softly joke but you’re met with silence. He looks troubled, like he wants to say something but can’t get it out, “.. Jungkook? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” Jungkook shakes his head, “I was thinking.”

Your stomach does that weird thing again where it feels like it’s dropping. You can hear your own heartbeat ringing in your eardrums too, “About?” You whisper.

Jungkook finally meets your eyes with a pinched expression, “I don’t know if I’m sure about marriage yet, I don’t think I’m ready.” He quietly explains, “I don’t feel ready. I feel like there’s so much more I can still do before settling down.” With you…?

Your eyes almost water but you refuse to let them, “So..you don’t want to marry me?”

“What–no, I said I wasn’t ready,” Jungkook blinks rapidly, “I.. I didn’t say that.” He says once he recovers from the initial shock.

“Then what did you mean?” It comes out snappier than intended, “Because to me it feels like something else.”

Jungkook grows visibly irritated, “y/n you’re blowing shit out of proportion again, I didn’t even say anything about you specifically, why the hell are you twisting my words?”

“You make it sound like I’m being weird about this, you were the weird one when all I said was a tiny joke. You’re the one taking it some type of way.” You’re trembling with adrenaline.

“I was just telling you how I feel,” Jungkook stands up and paces back and forth, “why are you being like this? You always wanna say it’s me who starts arguing but look at you!”

Hot tears of anger well in your eyes, “Because it is always you! You give me weird ass attitudes when I’ve done nothing to you, I barely even talk to you!”

Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, “I’m not doing this again with you. I just fucking can’t, I mean fuck, look at us! All we fucking do is fight, fight, fight and you expect me to wanna marry you? To be stuck with this? No thank you!”

You wipe your tears and stand up, “And there it is, at least I know how you really felt. Saved me my time too.” You glare as you pass by him in the direction of his room.

Jungkook shakes his head, “Where are you going? It’s late.” He calls out loudly, “y/n, answer me.”

“I’m going home Jungkook, it’s fine we’re done. We don’t have to keep doing this anymore.” You look back with dry tears, “I’m done too, I’m tired of pretending everything’s okay when it’s not.”

He doesn’t respond to that, he knows it’s true. “At least let me walk you out to the car.” He quietly murmurs.

“No.”

“y/n, don’t–”

“Leave me alone.” You whisper and storm out of his apartment, away from your home without your heart.

It takes three weeks for you to realize that he’s not coming back. He hasn’t texted or called and suddenly it feels real. You were in deep denial the entire time thinking maybe he’d come around and you could talk it out like you always do. He never showed.

You don’t like this, it hurts like a deep ache you can’t seem to get rid of. You find yourself choking up every time you think about him, you don’t want this. You never wanted this.

“Fuck, please,” you whisper shakily. A few rings go by and then you finally hear him.

“..y/n?”

“Jungkook, I need you.” You softly whisper into the phone, “Please..?” He goes silent on the other end and with each passing beat you’re more worried and anxious.

“Where are you?” He softly replies.

“Home.” You quietly croak, the relief filling you in an instant.

“Okay, stay right there I’m on my way. Please just—just sit tight okay?”

You nod like he’s right here in the room telling you face to face, you don’t even know why. He stays on the phone with you in comfortable silence, you hear when he leaves his apartment, when he starts his car and when he finally pulls into your parking garage.

“Is the door the same code as before?” Jungkook asks quietly.

“Yeah..”

“Okay, I’m here outside.” He hangs up the call briefly and then you hear the beeping noise of your front door unlocking.

The sight of Jungkook has your heart breaking into millions of pieces when you realize he’s not yours. Not anymore. You blink away the fresh tears welling up, he visibly softens and holds his arms out for you.

“Come here.” He softly murmurs. You don’t waste a second and cross the living room into his arms in an instant.

Jungkook wraps his arms around you tightly and holds you against his chest. He shushes you softly and sways side to side while you softly cry into his chest. He whispers everything’s going to be okay but it’s not—not with him not by your side.

“Sit, I’m gonna go bring you some water.” Jungkook softly says as he leads you over to the couch.

You nod quietly and watch with red rimmed eyes as he walks off into your kitchen. There’s a million things running through your head right now but you were more concerned with Jungkook. You hated how distant he was, it felt alien-like and weird.

“Here,” Jungkook murmurs as he comes back with the glass of water, “I brought some tissues too.”

You quietly accept with a soft thanks as you wipe your nose and take a tentative sip of water. He watches you with pity in his eyes, and you don’t want him to look at you like that. It makes your skin crawl and leaves you frustrated because you didn’t want his pity.

You just wanted him.

“So what happened?” Jungkook quietly asks after a few minutes of letting you gather yourself.

“I miss you and it just hurts so bad the way things ended. I’ve been regretting it and it hurts–” You can’t even finish because you’re already tearing up again and Jungkook hushes you softly.

“I know,” he solemnly says, “I know it does. Trust me you’re not the only one feeling like shit about this, you think it’s easy for me to let someone I’ve loved walk away after years? It’s fucking hard.”

He sighs shakily, “But I know that if I truly did love you and wanted the best for you, I’d do this. I just can’t keep up anymore, all the arguing is just not good for us y/n and you know it.”

“I know, I know.” You say into your hands with a sniffle, “But I don’t feel like letting go.”

“Me neither,” Jungkook gently brings your hands into his and looks into your eyes, “but we can’t keep going like this. We tell ourselves it’ll be fine but it’s not, it never is.”

You stare silently into eachothers eyes until Jungkook finds his voice again, “Which is why I think we should just take a break for I don’t know how long but we need to work on ourselves. If you truly loved me like I do to you, you’ll let me go and work on myself. You’ll want me to get better.”

And it’s true. You’ve only ever looked out for his best interest and wanted nothing but good things for him. But is it so bad to want to be a little selfish?

“I know.”

“So you understand we have to actually put in the effort if we want this to work out in the future? We can’t half ass this and rush into things anymore, that’s not how I want it to be between us.” He whispers softly.

You look at Jungkook miserably, “Yeah, I get it..” You quietly say, “I just..just promise me you’ll still be here in the end.”

Jungkook cups your cheek gently and smiles which doesn’t look genuine, it's a more sad bittersweet smile. “I’ll be here.”

“Okay..”

“Okay.”

You’re not together but it doesn’t feel like you’re not together? You don’t know how to explain it but it’s weird.

Before it was obviously a shitshow with all the arguments and whatnot. Several things actually like Jungkook’s attitude and his weird bipolar moods, and then you with your misinterpretations and spiteful words. It’s different now.

It almost feels like you’re happier with him now than before when you two were actually together. It’s funny that it takes a break up for you two to start being civil and loving—more than before actually. You don’t act like exes, and you both know you don’t.

Exes don’t call each other every night to ask how their day went, neither do they sleep over or cook for each other. It’s one thing to call up your ex from time to time but everyday? Were there no boundaries because you two clearly needed to set some.

Your friends tell you they’re proud but you don’t feel so good knowing you’re still going back to him every night. Sometimes you fuck, sometimes you don’t, most days he’ll just want company or someone to come with him to shop for groceries. You do all these things telling yourself you’re just here for support, nothing wrong in that right?

There’s nothing wrong with being friends with your ex, right? That’s all it is, just friends.

“Hold on, I'll be back, I got a call.” You excuse yourself from the table and head into another room for more privacy. “Hello?”

“Hey, are you doing anything right now?” It’s Jungkook again and it makes your tummy flutter with butterflies at the sound of his voice.

“Uhh, not really? I’m just having some dinner with friends, why?”

“No reason I just wanted to see if you could come over and maybe we can watch a movie or somethin’. I also realized I might have ordered a little too much fried chicken, old habits die hard I guess.” He jokes softly.

You think it’s a little cute and you can’t help but say yes right away, “Let me finish up real quick and I’ll head over in a bit.” You’re smiling like an idiot right now.

“I can come get you..? Only if you want me to though.”

“That sounds good to me, text me when you get here then.” You softly say, “Bye.” It’s a little awkward not saying ‘love you’ but then you remember you’re not technically together and your entire mood is soured a little.

Shit, what are you going to tell the girls? Something came up and you have to go? No, they’ll ask and you’re a horrible liar. Plus you’re stressing out a little over how you’re going to leave undetected, what if Soyeon tries to walk you out to the car or something? You don’t drive but Soyeon has a habit of walking you out whenever you leave her house (god bless).

It’s moments like these that make you wish Soyeon wouldn’t offer, just for today.

“Hey what’s up?” Soyeon says when she sees you re-enter the room, “Everything good?”

“Yeah but I forgot I had a meeting coming up, it’s about a comeback coming up soon and they need me for creative directing or something. Point is I gotta go guys, sorry.” You don’t like lying to them like this but they’re gonna give you shit and right now you don’t want to hear it.

“Oh cool, okay then we’ll hang some other time then yeah?” Soyeon smiles as she begins pushing her seat back. Oh no.

“Stay here it’s fine, the car’s almost here anyways and it’s a bit chilly outsideeee so stayyy.” You whine while pushing her back into her seat, “Also Miyeon’s literally here, keep her company don’t be rude.”

Both girls look confused as Soyeon raises a brow in question, “Miyeon’s fine she sees me almost everyday. Just let me walk you out weirdo.”

“You’re not even wearing shorts Yeon, just sit this one out I’m good. I’ll text you when I get in the car and stuff okay?” Soyeon doesn’t look convinced but she nods anyways and agrees to let you go reluctantly, “Bye!” You wave and hurriedly make your way out after Jungkook texts you he’s here.

“Byeee.” Once you’re out the door you let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding in. Why was that girl so damn stubborn? You love her to death but now was NOT the time.

jk: outside

You hurried down the hall and to the elevator. Jungkook was waiting for you in the parking lot outside of his car, just leaned back against the hood of it with his hands in his pockets. “Are you cold?” He asks as soon as you come in front of him.

“A little bit,” you smile and sink into his warm and welcoming embrace, “you’re super warm though.”

Jungkook chuckles quietly and strokes your hair, “Here I’ll give you my sweater.” He shrugs it off and holds it out to slip you in it, “You look funny.” He laughs.

“Your face is funny.” You stick your tongue out meanly meanwhile he laughs, “Alright hurry up, I’m cold and hungry.” You pull away from him and head to your side of the car, happily sighing as the warm air from inside hits you.

“I thought you ate already.” Jungkook snorts in amusement as he slips into the car.

“Well I’m hungry again.” You grumble.

He doesn’t respond verbally at least, he shifts the car into drive with a tiny smile on his face. You find yourself leaning back into your seat with a soft smile of your own. Times like these you were able to just sit back and forget about everything and anything. The only thing that mattered right now was you and Jungkook.

That’s it.

The movie ended up becoming background noise over the soft sounds of Jungkook’s lips meeting your own over and over again. The food lays discarded on his coffee table, half-eaten with a couple of soju bottles littering around the boxes.

It feels good like this with Jungkook’s hand tangled in your hair and his other settled over your hip. You’re sitting halfway in his lap, the angle a bit awkward but doable nonetheless. You hear him release a low grunt in his throat, lips smacking wetly over your own as he tightens his fingers on your hip.

You thread your fingers through his hair, stroking over his head gently pretending to not notice how he leaned into your touch eagerly. You barely even notice when he impatiently drags you onto his lap and sits you firmly over his thighs, your own bracketing his hips and closing him in.

“Jungkook,” you quietly sigh while bearing down on him and grinding over the thick bulge in his joggers.

“Yeah..?” He replies through a quiet sigh as his half-lidded eyes watch down below between you two where your clothed cunt is pressed tight to his hard cock.

You can’t reply because you’re caught off guard by a bubbling moan in your throat. You find yourself gripping the collar of his shirt tightly between nimble fingers when he suddenly bucks his hips up sharply. The print of his dick presses tighter against your slick folds, the head messily bumping into your throbbing clit.

Jungkook lets out a ragged groan as he tilts his head back and parts from the messy kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips. He guides your hips with both hands as he rolls you over his cock and holds you down to keep you in place. It makes your breath hitch and a stuttered moan slip from your lips.

“Fuck..” You pant softly as your toes curl, “Need you so bad.” You whisper in between the short rough grinds.

He bites his lip harshly and reaches down to unbutton your jeans, you help him slide them off as he hooks his fingers under your panties and tugs them to the side. You feel his fingertips slide through your messy folds, circling over your swollen bud and pressing down with the pads of his fingers.

The slide’s pretty slippery, you barely feel his touch but the pleasure bubbles over and leaves you tingly and hot down there. Jungkook teases you by dipping his fingers low against your fluttering hole that greedily squeezes around nothing. “Don’t tease,” you mutter softly and lean forward to press kisses against his jawline.

“Fuck, wait.” He reaches over and blindly pats the sofa for something you can’t really be bothered to look at. A low hum leaves him when he finally finds what he was looking for: condom.

You watch him bite the foil open and reach down to shove his sweats off, the way his dick slaps against his stomach has you squirming in anticipation. He hisses low through his teeth as he strokes the tip slowly before rolling the condom on. You watch hungrily as his cock’s engulfed in the thin rubber, standing hard ‘n tall with a beady pearl of precum getting trapped within the condom.

“Good?” He mumbles once he positions his cock under you, the tip’s barely brushing over your hole before you’re whining at him for more.

“I’m good,” you wrap your arms around his neck and tug him closer, “now fuck me..please?” You say after a couple of seconds of silence.

Jungkook huffs out a breathless laugh and shakes his head, “You’re cute.” His amused tone dissolves into a low moan when you start pushing his cock in, inching yourself down until your perk ass meets his thighs with a low pap noise.

Fuck you forgot how full he makes you feel when you ride him, your poor little cunt’s all stuffed up with his fat cock. It doesn’t help that there’s a little sting from the stretch with the way your pussy hugs his cock tightly. Jungkook though looks blissed out, he bites his lip and watches through hooded eyes, he’s moving his hands to grip your hips tight.

“Feels so good,” you slur out and start bounding idly, not too fast or slow, “feel..full.” Your tone comes out lewd and borderline pornographic. Can he blame you? His dick always fucked you stupid, turned you into a little yapper too.

Jungkook grunts quietly, “Yeah? You’re gonna be a good girl and ride me like you mean it baby?” The words slip out of his filthy mouth like nothing, you almost forgot the nasty shit he used to tell you when he was plowing your brains out on a Tuesday night.

“Y-Yeah,” you gasp softly as your eyes flutter shut when he hits that one spot you like, “so, so good Jungkookie,” you whine quietly while rocking your hips back and forth, your cunt greedily swallows him up through every push and tug.

Jungkook groans low and moves his hands to settle over your ass cheeks, he grips each cheek in his hand and squeezes, kneading the flesh under his palms. “Shit–like that,” he huffs softly as he guides your hips in smooth fluid grinds, “so fuckin’ good.” He groans again and tosses his head back.

You bite on your lower lip to supress your whimpers, your hips bounce lightly in his lap with a low fopping sound as Jungkook’s cock coaxes more slick out of your pussy. You’re dripping through the sides as a low squelch emits from your sopping cunt. Through the soft moans and grunts you there’s a skin on skin slapping sound your ass makes when they meet his thighs.

“Oh, fuck.” You whisper, breathing picking up as your hands slide down to settle over his abdomen for purchase.

Jungkook’s lips part, eyesbrows pinching together in concentration as he watches you fuck yourself languidly on his cock. His body lightly rocks upwards from your eager bouncing, the slapping noises only get louder the more you grow desperate. He can’t help but land a hard smack on your cheek, watching in satisfaction as you mewl from both pain and pleasure.

“You like that baby?” He breathlessly asks, “Like being slapped around like a slut? Hm?”

“Y-Yeah,” you gasp shakily and throw your head back, “love it so much Jungkookie,” you mewl.

Jungkook moves one hand from your ass up to your head, fisting the back of your hair and forcing you to expose your neck for him. “How much?” He grunts low, “Whose cock makes you scream like this?”

You swear the ache in your skull from him yanking on your hair makes you even wetter. The throbbing in your pussy has you wildly grinding against him for more, you can’t even reply because of the uncontrollable moans you’re letting out right now.

“Answer me,” he hisses with another smack to your cheek.

“You do! Only you,” you softly sob as he stops you and holds you in place, “please ‘m so close, wanna cum.” You try to bounce, move, anything—but he’s not letting up as he holds you in place and leaves you squirming all over his cock.

“Cum.” Jungkook darkly murmurs as he begins fucking into you from below, his sharp thrusts send you flying into his chest as you cry out.

He drives his cock right up against your g-spot with each hit, the living room quickly fills with the sounds of his balls hitting your ass and the couch creaking from the weight. He doesn’t hold back on his moans either, he’s cussing and groaning under his breath as he uses your pussy to his liking. You on the other hand..

“Jungkook..!” You feel your pussy clamp down and you reach down to rub at your clit in fast circles, trembling and whining as your orgasm approaches fast.

He grips your cheeks tighter and spreads you open as he fucks his cock in and out of your sloppy cunt. Your mouth falls open as the wind is knocked out of you, you’re coming fast and hard as stars explode behind your eyelids. You feel like a ragdoll in his hands as he fucks away into your oversensitive cunt.

“Shit—nearly there baby,” he whispers as his eyes flutter shut in pleasure, “oh fuck.” He grits his teeth and bucks up hard until his hips are stuttering in their pace and he’s groaning loud.

You wish he wasn’t wearing the condom as you feel every little throb and twitch inside. It makes you drool at the thought of his hot thick cum filling your ruined little pussy, it’d probably drip afterward too..

“Good?” He quietly asks as he tries to catch his breath.

You end up laying your head on his shoulder for a couple of seconds, enjoying the way he rubs your back gently in a comforting manner. “Yeah, ‘m okay.” You softly reply while clinging to him like a koala.

Jungkook hums, you don’t go home after that, or the day after.

“Damn when did it get so hot?” Taehyung complains under his breath, “Swear it feels like the weather was cooler yesterday, don’t tell me summer’s already coming.” He groans.

Jungkook hears Hoseok grunt in agreement, “Can you believe spring’s almost over though? We’re like a month away from summer starting.”

“What? No way.” Jungkook frowns, it can’t be, the last time he spoke with you was—

“You realize we’re in the last month of spring right?” Taehyung looks at him weirdly with a snort, “Have you been living under a rock or something?”

Hoseok joins in on the teasing but Jungkook doesn’t think it’s so funny anymore. Not when he realizes it’s been almost two whole months since you and him decided to take a break. He hasn’t really kept up with your life like that, the last time he spoke was when he asked if you were home and then he did go over and you guys ended up—

Holy shit.

“Jungkook,” Hoseok calls out, “your phone’s ringing.” By the looks on their faces they know who’s calling right now. Hoseok looks mildly disappointed and Taehyung just seems tired of it.

“Are you gonna answer it?” Taehyung asks tentatively.

Jungkook looks at your caller ID and then silences his ringer, “Nah, I’ll see what’s up later. Where do you guys wanna go next?” They look at him like he’s crazy and Jungkook sighs, “What?”

“We didn’t know you guys were still together, thought the breakup was for good.” Hoseok quietly admits.

Oh. Right, Jungkook’s been talking about how you’ve both been separated for a cool minute now. Of course they would naturally think that you’ve both finally realized you’re no good and left each other the fuck alone. He’ll never forget their proud faces when Jungkook admitted he walked away from it.

“Look, she’s a good person and all that but is it really worth it if all you do is fight and tear at each other? I mean it’s not like this is the first time.” Taehyung rambles slowly as Hoseok nods along to every word, “Don’t you think that maybe answering her would fuck up all the progress you’ve made so far?”

Will it? Jungkook likes to think that maybe he’s doing a good job but clearly not if Taehyung and Hoseok are calling him out on it. Of course they want the best for him too, they’ve been his hyungs since forever (but you were his forever too).

“Look I know it’s bad,” Jungkook sighs, “but I just can’t leave her like that either, it’s wrong. She’s been in my life since we were kids Tae, I’m not gonna just ditch her like that.”

“And nobody’s mad at you for it but Jungkook c’mon, you need to set some boundaries for your sake man. You can’t fall back into this nasty habit, not when you’re doing so good for yourself right now.” Jungkook knows Taehyung’s referring to his upcoming Golden album release.

“Listen, we’re not gonna police you because you’re a big boy and you can deal with your own shit but I’m just telling you right now it’s not a good idea whatever you’re doing with her right now. The sooner you begin to pull away, the easier it will be when you two finally decide on the future of your relationship.” Hoseok finishes quietly.

They’re right and Jungkook hates that they are. As unsettling as the truth is, that’s just what it is and Jungkook can’t change that.

You’re broken up but why does he still go over? Why does he cook for you two, watch movies in bed like a couple and then fuck you to sleep before the cycle repeats over and over? Did you ever break up to begin with?

“If you want this to work you need to let go.” Taehyung’s hand comes up to squeeze his shoulder, “Some things were not made to be forever, and unfortunately this is one of them.”

Jungkook looks up at the two men in front of him, they’ve each got reassuring smiles on their faces and for the first time he feels good about his decisions. He makes a mental note in the back of his head to speak with you later on, for now he’ll just enjoy this.

“I didn’t know you and Jungkook were still together.” Soyeon comments upon seeing a sweater she knew was too big to be yours and quite frankly wasn’t something you’d personally go out and buy yourself.

“Oh, that—we’re actually not.” You chuckle under your breath, “He left it here the other day–”

“The other day?” Yuqi frowns, “What do you mean? I thought you guys haven’t seen each other in two months?” You can tell they’re equally confused about the situation.

“We aren’t together-together, we’re just kinda hooking up here and there whenever we feel like it.” You shrug.

“Uh-huh, and he just leaves his clothes too?” Soyeon raises a brow, “y/n—babe, I love you but what the hell? I thought you and him were completely done already?” She says, Yuqi nodding along in agreement.

Now it’s your turn to look at them confused, “What? We’re just hooking up, it isn’t anything bad either I mean we’re doing better now than before.”

Soyeon sighs deeply and sits down, “Have you maybe thought about why things are better now? Because you’re not together y/n, you’re only doing ‘better’ now because you don’t have a label to the relationship because you’re both pretending shit’s okay.”

“This can’t be good either y/n, it’s not healthy it’s just gonna lead you both down the same path as before. You guys think that because you’re happy now, the issues aren’t gonna be there.” Yuqi shakes her head.

Of course you knew they were gonna start with this but your pride was too strong to admit that they were of course right about this. It’s something you’ve been intentionally ignoring, kind of like if you don’t think about it, it’s not true type of thing. Which in itself was a pretty bad mindset.

“But we’re gonna fix things.” You softly reply.

“Are you?” Soyeon looks like she doesn’t believe you, you don’t even believe yourself.

Yes, yes, yes—

“I don’t know.” You find yourself saying without thinking, that’s the truth right? Right..?

Yuqi sighs sympathetically and shakes her head, “It’s time to let go, it’s over y/n—for good. I know it’s hard love but you have to do it.”

“I’ll…talk to him later about it, can’t guarantee this but I’m going to try to break things off permanently.” You’re just tired of this back and forth with yourself wondering if Jungkook and you are truly going to be okay.

You know you both will be okay…just not together and that’s what hurts the most to think about. They don’t push the topic anymore, something you’re thankful for. The entire time you’re with the girls you’re stuck thinking about Jungkook.

you: come over

You spent at least ten minutes with your thumb hovering over the button before you actually pressed it. It shouldn’t be so fucking scary but you’re just extremely nervous right now. Your friend’s words ring in your head over and over again like a mantra and you feel like you’re going mad.

jk: rn?

you: yea, really want to see you

jk: me too.

read.

It’s the shit like this that makes you question everything. You hate how weak you are because Jungkook can sweet talk his way into your head and you wouldn’t be able to stop him. It’s not like he does it intentionally but still the power he holds over you, it’s stupid.

After the girls left you ended up cleaning the living room a bit, stopping in your tracks when you came across the sweater he left behind. You stare at it for a couple of seconds before slipping it on finding it much more comfy wearing his clothes. You hear the front door keypad beeping before it unlocks and Jungkook’s slipping in.

“Hey.” He greets quietly and shuts the door behind him.

You smile up at him and tug on the sweater paws, taking note of the sweaty state he was in, “You coming from the gym orrrr…?”

“Oh yeah,” he laughs, “I just got finished with working out when you texted me. Look at that,” he flexes his bicep to show you, “hot huh?” He grins.

“Ew no as if, go take a damn shower you probably stink.” You pretend to cover your nose and gag, giggling when he rolls his eyes at you.

“Yeah, yeah whatever.” He walks over to tug you into his arms, “This my hoodie?” He mumbles, “Looks good.”

You let him lay soft kisses over your pouty lips until you’re pushing him away with a low grumble, “Go shower now, I don’t wanna stink of sweat in your hoodie.” You snort.

Jungkook lays one last kiss over your forehead and walks in the direction of your room, “So mean and for what? It’s literally my hoodie who cares if it stinks? I’m gonna be taking it off anyways.” He smirks deviously.

You follow with a unamused look, one that leaves no room for anymore arguments. “I’ll wait for you out here,” you flop on the bed and turn on your TV, “go on, shoo.”

“Meanie.” Jungkook mumbles but makes his way into your bathroom nonetheless.

You catch up on some of your shows you were watching at the moment while waiting for Jungkook to come back out. You’ve long made yourself comfortable in bed, curled up under your soft comforter with the remote in hand. He doesn’t come out for at least fifteen minutes or so, you don’t really mind because it feels oddly domestic.

“You’re watching this too?” Jungkook breaks the silence in the room, “I’m on the last episode.”

You barely look at him as he walks over to the bed in nothing but his towel wrapped around his waist. “Yeah, I started this like a week ago I think.” You murmur distractedly as he flops in bed with you, “Don’t get my pillows wet,” you whine with no real bite to your tone.

“It’ll dry.” Jungkook snorts as he lays his head over your blanket covered lap. The two of you fall into silence afterwards with him loosely wrapping an arm around you.

Nothing happens after that, you lay together quietly while the episode runs in the background. Occasionally Jungkook turns to hide his face in your lap, you can’t help but slip your hand in his wet hair and gently comb over it, lightly scratching at his scalp.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if I spoiled it?” He pipes up out of nowhere.

“Do it and I’m throwing you out towel and all.” You glare as he starts giggling in amusement, “I’m serious, do it and you’re out.”

“I won’t, I won’t.” He says as he lifts his head up, “But I’m a little bored,” he pouts and draws circles over your thigh, “I already watched these episodesss.”

“I dunno do something. Go order food or find some in my fridge, I don’t know.” You sigh.

Jungkook doesn’t reply and instead nuzzles into you, “I have something else I can do in mind..” He trails off and slips his hand under your comforter to stroke your thigh.

You don’t say anything, instead you part your thighs for him as a silent ‘go on’. He takes the bait easily and slips under the comforter with a devious grin, “Jungkook– ow, don’t bite me you ass. Why did you do that?”

Instead of answering you he just reaches under for the waistband of your shorts, peeling them off alongside your panties in one go. You can feel his hot breath hovering over your pussy, his tongue dips low between your soft folds as he licks a stripe up your cunt.

He circles his tongue around your clit, swiping from side to side and front/back. It’s enough to have your knees buckling weakly as you reach over the comfort to place your hand where his head would be as you sighed in pleasure.

“Like you better when your mouth’s full.” You find yourself mumbling.

Jungkook grunts in affirmation, he wraps his arms around your and tugs your hips closer to his face. He’s literally buried in your soft cunt, nose poking at your clit while he licks over your slick lips, sucking on your soft fold with a pleased hum.

You push up with a low moan and angle your hips down so that he’s licking over your swollen clit. “Shit, jus’ like that,” you tilt your head back and close your eyes enjoying the sensation of his tongue.

He lays one hand flat over your pelvis and holds you down while he sucks on your clit feverishly. It sends your back arching off the bed from the sudden spark of pleasure. “Fuck..!” You hiss out when he engulfs your tiny bud between his lips and sucks.

Jungkook doesn’t disappoint. He slurps and licks like no tomorrow while he prods his fingers against your pussy. You’re literally scrambling to get a grip on him, your pathetic little moans and whines spurring him on as he finally slides his fingers deep.

“More, gimme more please,” you mewl.

You hear him shuffling around down there so you naturally take a peek out of curiosity. The sight has your mouth dropping in awe when you come across him fisting his cock from under the sheets while he eats you out like you’re the best meal ever.

“Coming,” you gasp softly as your fingers tangle themselves in his hair.

Jungkook sucks harder with a hint of teeth, he curls his fingers at the same time and fucks them right up against the roof of your cunt. It has you crying out his name and pushing his head away as your pussy clenches tight and then suddenly you’re gushing all over him.

“Jesus,” he whispers and covers your cunt with his hot mouth, licking up the entire mess you made all over yourself.

“Come here.” You dryly whisper after noticing he didn’t cum.

He obeys without hesitation, he knows what you want so he climbs up and kneels beside you with his weeping cock over your lips. “You sure? I don’t mind.” He murmurs.

“I want to.” You softly reply and part your lips, “Don’t want you to be gentle with me.. I can take it.” You murmur as you engulf the head of his cock slowly.

Jungkook hisses quietly and guides your head until your nose is meeting his groin. You gag around him with the saliva quickly building up in your mouth. He doesn’t mind though because he absolutely loves it when you slobber all over him.

“Don’t you look pretty with a mouth full of cock?” He grins teasingly despite being minutes away from coming, like he wasn’t edging himself before when he was eating your cunt.

You moan unabashedly as tears spring in your eyes. He doesn’t waste anymore time after that and begins fucking into your mouth unapologetically. He doesn’t even start off slow, he’s desperate to cum and you get it. You’re salivating at the thought of his cock filling your throat and leaving you sore.

He grips the headboard above to stable himself as he slides himself in and out of your mouth. Jungkook moans under his breath as he bucks his hips rather harshly, just listening to the sound of your gags and saliva dripping.

“So fuckin’ good,” he mutters, “you take it so good for me.”

You know he’s getting close when he starts getting quieter and instead puts his attention on his pleasure. The only noise around is the sound of your gagging and his labored breathing. You feel his cock start twitching and throbbing until he’s shouting from the pleasure and coming down your throat.

“Shit—stop, stop, stop.” He sighs as he gently pulls you off his cock, “Fuck.” He says after catching his breath.

Cleanup is fairly quiet, he helps you change the sheets and get dressed into comfier clothes before you’re both climbing back into the bed and sitting side by side, body to body. It feels all too real and suddenly realization is hitting you hard.

The silence is comfortable between you two, the scene feels a little familiar (you, him, a movie and your head on his shoulder) but you don’t comment because it makes you feel a little uncomfortable. Like before, Jungkook caresses his hand over your thigh gently with a comforting grip after.

“Why did we ever fall out?” You quietly pipe up, “Like where did it all go downhill?”

He stops in his tracks, he doesn’t look mad or upset that you brought it up out of the blue. He looks..at ease. “I don’t know, but I think it has to do a lot with the fact that we slowly grew out of each other? Kinda like we just lost the love and it wasn’t the same anymore, and instead of trying to fix it we just acted like our problems weren’t there.”

Jungkook calmly continues after taking in your reaction, “I love you don’t get me wrong, you’ve given me the best years but I just think we finally grew apart. Think about it—the fights, the breakups and make ups? We got to a point where we just didn’t care anymore.”

“I know, but it still doesn’t change the fact that I want you forever.” You softly admit.

“No you don’t y/n,” he replies equally softly, “you don’t want us—this, forever.”

It’s like a punch to your gut, why is he saying this? Why is acting like he knows what you want? You know what you want, and you want him. Is he trying to call you a liar? A saner part inside of your head eerily tells you he’s right, you don’t want that. You want happiness.

“I do know what I want actually, why are you thinking otherwise? You’re making a decision for me without even asking me how I feel about this?” You frown and push yourself off his shoulder.

“y/n,” Jungkook pauses briefly before shaking his head, “trust me I know you don’t want this. It’s not hard and it doesn’t take a fucking rocket scientist to see we’re not made for eachother. I’m sorry I need to tell you like this but whatever the fuck we had is something I sure as hell don’t want.”

It literally crushes your spirit because you knew what was coming, you KNEW he was going to tell you the cold hard truth sooner or later. It’s all everyone's been warning you about and now you have no room to cry about it. You had nobody but yourself to blame for your heartbreak. Not Jungkook, not Soyeon, not Yuqi.

Just you.

“You know what Jungkook, fuck you.” You fiercely whisper and push yourself off of him, “No actually, fuck you. You don’t get to tell me what I want and don’t want–”

“Because I know what the fuck I want and it’s not you! As fucking sad as it is y/n I can’t do this shit anymore,” he stands up too and begins hazardously dressing himself in his clothes again, “I know what I’ve done is shitty and I hope you can forgive me for it but I’m not willing to stick around anymore. Not after this.”

You watch in silence as he picks his things up off the floor and storms out. Not one word is spoken throughout the entire ordeal. Jungkook gets his shit and leaves like nothing ever happened, like you didn’t tell him to fuck himself and he didn’t respond by saying he didn’t want you.

When he finally leaves with a loud slam, your resolve crumbles and soft sniffles begin to fill the too empty apartment. You look around the room with red-rimmed eyes, now what are you gonna do?

You fucked up, again.

Jungkook doesn’t talk to you—doesn’t even text—for a total of two weeks and counting. You tried distracting yourself with work and your upcoming comeback but it was hard to focus. Not when your mind keeps going back to him and what happened that night.

“You don’t look so good, you sure you’re okay?” Your manager says with a look of concern on her face, “I can wrap things up and we can get you home if that’s what you want.”

“Please,” you find yourself nodding, “I’ll um let you know later on how I’m doing and stuff, for now I just wanna be alone.”

They understand you’re not doing well emotionally as of lately so they don’t question it when you request to be left alone. They simply wrap it up and call for your driver to take you home. A few staff send you off with tiny gifts and comforting hugs but none are enough to take away from the misery you’re feeling right now.

You make a quick stop at the store on your way home, you’ve never felt more dead in your entire life than right now. Even buying groceries proves to be a hard task but you somehow push through it and buy what you need.

The entire time you're there you think about Jungkook, should you call him to clear things up? Apologize for the shitty things you’ve ever said and for how you’ve acted towards him over the slightest inconveniences?

‘The phone’s right there,’ a little voice inside your head whispers, ‘just open up and click on his name, he’s right there.’

Do it, do it, do it, they chant.

Before you even realize it you’re dialing his number, the phone pressed tight against your ear as you wait with a bated breath for him to pick up. Three rings go by until finally Jungkook picks up with a quiet ‘hello’. “Hey,” you quietly mumble, “what are you doing?”

“Nothing much, I was cooking about a minute ago. You?” He sounds distant, like he’s catching up with an acquaintance.

“Cool, and nothing either, I just went to the store and bought a few things I needed.” You play with a strand of loose hair, suddenly finding that much more interesting to look at.

“That’s good.” He murmurs and it goes quiet after that.

Neither of you know what to say right now, you don’t even know where to begin. What can you say? Hey I’m sorry I told you to fuck yourself? I’m sorry for my shitty ass attitude? I’m sorry for being a bad girlfriend? There’s so much to say but you can’t find the words for it.

“Jungkook,” you hesitantly say after finding the courage to speak, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything, I know I fucked up over and over again but I want to let you know I’m sorry I treated you the way I did and for the things I said.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything and for a second he scares you thinking that he hung up or something. “I know, and I’m sorry too for the way I acted and shit. I know we haven’t been the best but for what it’s worth none of this was ever your fault. Things just didn’t end up working out.”

You hate that this feels like a permanent goodbye, it must have really been the last straw for him the last time you spoke. You find yourself tearing up and there’s a heavy lump sitting in your throat. You don’t know whether you want to cry, scream, or run off.

“It’s just hard when I miss you this much,” you quietly reply despite the wobble in your voice.

“I know,” you hear him take a deep breath and before he can reply you hear it.

There’s a low shuffling noise in the back, at first you think nothing of it until you realize it’s a feminine voice asking Jungkook if he wants her to help clean up the mess.

Your heart rapidly beats in your chest, the pounding in your ears so loud you swear you feel like you’re going to have a heart attack with how fast it’s going. “Didn’t know you moved on already.”

“It’s not like that–”

“Then what is it like Jungkook? Because to me it sounds exactly what I’m imagining right now—don’t try and treat me like I’m fucking stupid.” You wipe your tears of frustration while pacing back and forth.

“Okay fine, you want the truth: I met someone and I’m getting to know them, I’m thinkin’ maybe she can make me happy too. Is that what you wanted to hear from me?” He snaps back.

“When.” You coldly demand, the anger you feel right now is astronomical.

Jungkook holds his breath for a few seconds, “A month ago.”

Your entire world stops then and there. So while you and Jungkook were doing these lovey dovey things and still seeing each other, he was already talking to someone new. All this and for what? He found someone new while still using you as an escape from reality (for fun really), and to know he was doing this while having someone on the side waiting?

It makes you sick to your stomach.

“D-Don’t you ever come near me. We’re done, so fucking done. How could you fucking do that to me? You knew how I fucking felt about all this and you went and pulled this? I hate you, I hate you.” You can’t even speak, it physically pains you to talk.

Through your sobs you manage to shakily hang up and head for your bedroom. You toss a bunch of clothes on the bed and drag your heavy suitcase out of the closet. You don’t know where you’re going, but at this point you’ll go anywhere if it means you can get away from this place.

All that’s left is the sounds of your sobs and clothes shuffling as you stuff them into your suitcase messily. You feel so alone and empty wondering what everyone else in the world is doing right now. Surely not getting their heart stomped on like you, right?

As you're finishing up with your closet, you hear the front door beep and buzz. No, no, no, he is not doing this right now you think while storming out to the living room. He’s already coming in as you’re stepping out.

“y/n–”

“What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to leave me the fuck alone!” You throw a vase in his direction watching him yell out in shock as he barely manages to dodge it.

“Fucking hell—calm down! You’re gonna hurt yourself!”

“And why do you care? You didn’t before so what’s fucking different now!” You wipe your face and stomp to your bedroom with Jungkook hot on your tail.

He tries to grab your arm but you rip yourself away from him in fury which makes him get the memo instantly, “I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay, I don’t want you to hurt yourself or do anything stupid.” He stops in his tracks when he sees the state your bedroom’s in.

“y/n..what are you doing?” He quietly asks, his doe eyes filled with surprise and a mix of fear.

You take a deep breath and hold it in for a couple of seconds, letting it out slowly when you feel calm enough to reply, “I’m leaving Jungkook, all this—I’m done. I had hopes that maybe we could solve things and make it work again but it looks like only one of us wanted this.” You smile sadly.

“I choose myself Jungkook, I did some petty shit and said dumb things and I’m sorry for it. Looking back on it, it was me who refused to move on. I was so hung up on making things work I just didn’t realize I was dragging you down and forcing you to be with me.”

Jungkook visibly deflates with hurt written all over his face, “I’m sorry too, I never meant to lead you on and if I did I’m so sorry for it y/n. You deserve someone who can make you happy, and I’m sorry that someone can’t be me.”

You stand across from each other in silence. Jungkook looks down at your luggage with his own sad smile, “Maybe..we could be friends?”

“No,” you softly reply and get back to packing, “we can’t be friends, but I’d like to pretend.”

“So this is goodbye then.” Jungkook’s got his own unshed tears ready to fall.

“Yeah, I guess so..”

He looks up at you and tearfully smiles, “Goodbye y/n.”

You match his smile with one of your own, “Bye, Jungkook.” Maybe in your next life you will both be happy. But not in this one.

For now, it’s only me and maybe that’s all I need.

One year later.

“It’s only gonna be for two weeks, you big baby. You’re acting like I won’t get on a plane and go see you.” You laugh softly and shake your head, “Besides, I thought you were taking me to the beach in LA?”

“I am! But I wanted you there with me,” Mingi looks at you with pursed lips, “wanted you to see me on stage.”

You can’t help but coo and squeeze his cheek, “You’re so cute, don’t worry I’ll make sure I don’t miss it.” He smiles happily and you can’t help but lean in for a smooch on the cheek.

“Oh wait, I saw a guy selling ice cream back there. Wait for me right here, I’ll be back.” Mingi heads back to all the food stalls leaving you there in front of this cafe.

You hum under your breath and check on your messages, replying to friends who slid up on your story asking if you were finally back. It felt good to be home after all that went down before, you really needed the break.

“Hold on, I got it, let me carry it for you.” You hear a familiar voice say which instantly has you turning around to look.

It’s Jungkook and he still looks the same as before minus the hair he’s cut short now and has it in an undercut. You feel weird seeing him again after all this time. Weird in a good way? You don’t know, but it isn’t bad either. You kinda don’t feel anything.

You curiously look over at his girlfriend(?), stopping in your tracks when you notice a pretty ring on her finger. It suits her. You look back up and come face to face with Jungkook who stands there in shock too.

There’s a million things you can say or do right now, but you don’t. In fact you’re happy for him.

“Did I take long?” Mingi suddenly pops up behind you holding two ice cream cones, “I got your favorite.” He grins foolishly.

You break away from Jungkook and look at Mingi, “Thanks, how sweet of you.” You grin and lean in to kiss his cheek again, “Ready to go? I’m kinda tired of being outside.” You complain softly.

Mingi lets you take the cones from his hands and instead wraps his arm around your waist leading you through the crowd of people. Your heart races as you two get closer to Jungkook and his fiancé. Just for a second you meet his eyes, and then you smile before turning your attention back to Mingi.

Jungkook smiles back and just like that, you move on with your lives.

My love, I won’t wait for your love.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan @lilyflowerguk @sayokodiary @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore @rrosiitas

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut

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textmel8r · 3 months ago

Text

[ DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( eleventh installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro

୨୧˚ cw; sugar mommy! reader , sugar baby! toji , profanity , prostitution , bisexual! toji , smut , spit , gunplay

୨୧˚ an; if there are plot holes, no there aren’t. i just wanted an excuse to write toji suckin on some gun🧌

୨୧˚ join my discord server ! we share headcanons, fanfic recs, color roles, and more drooling emoji

His hair is wet, sopping and adhering to the canvas of his forehead. Back at the hotel, Toji set the record for the world’s shortest shower, forsaking even a once-over with a towel in favor of slipping his clothes right back on. He doesn’t even recall the shitty excuse he tossed at his one night stand, not bothering to stay long enough to hear her response. Quickness was of the utmost importance, the man told himself to justify blowing through four separate red lights.

Oh, the irony. Because now, Toji stands before the grand entrance of your extravagant abode with a palm flat against the column of wall beside the door as he staves off constant hitch wracking his lungs. Unhurried, stagnant, moving as though he was thawing out frozen limbs. The last half hour having been spent on nothing but hastiness, it is at this time when all of these troubles and concerns fight their way to the front end of Toji’s mind.

The most prominent question: why?

Why did you ask him here? What use could you possibly get out of his shriveled husk?

Toji knows where your spare key is. Beneath the clay pot, the one flourishing with a bouquet of pastel Hydrangea flowers. Glaringly obvious to any happening stranger—Toji had barked at you endlessly to swap its hiding spot for one a little less in plain-fucking-sight, and everytime you told him you’d get to it. And you never did. Idiot woman. He steals a glance to the pot once more and notices the flowers’ stems have a lot more limpness in them than he remembers. Wilted. Poor little things.

Toji knows where your spare key is. He knocks anyway. The side of his fist pounding poplar wood once, twice, three times, and then he takes a step back. Blunted thumbnails pick at the callouses welded into the inside of his knuckles.

He can’t even blink before the door peels ajar. Fast, like you’d been waiting nearby for him.

The permanent slouch in his spine corrects itself when Toji stiffens. Shoulders squared, thick fingers curled into iron fists against his thighs. And like the colossal moron he is, Toji doesn’t speak. He just looks at you, standing there in the openness between door and frame. A downy robe obscures you in its rouge silk, cascading down just barely passing the center of your thigh. Your thigh… Toji observes more carefully, noting the bulky extremity protruding out from the side of your shapely leg. A boxy bulge sheathed under a reddish robe; the man scoffs.

“Thank you for coming,” you break the silence first, offering all-too polite benediction. Almost robotic, like you’d recited it from a script you memorized.

“Yeah,” Toji replies, curt.

Mores standing, more silence. Melodic chirps from the crickets fill the chasms of dead air.

Then finally, finally, you make a move. Toeing the door wider with a bare foot, stepping back to accommodate his bulky constitution. “Come inside.” It is a quiet command, the last words you speak before pivoting on a heel and heading deeper into your home. Toji acts on the instruction, plodding in your trail. He kicks the door shut with the outsole of his muddy boot.

“Sorry,” there goes your second apology of the night, “I know it’s late.”

He doesn’t acknowledge it, doesn't care much for these pointless I’m sorry’s right now. You’ve guided Toji into the living room—back toward him, shifting weight between legs, plucking at the stitches along the seam of your garb. Toji stands merely ten paces behind, awkward in the way he is uncertain of what to do. What to say. Existing here, in your presence, in your house… it all felt so disgustingly unnatural now. He should've never come back to this place. God, he should’ve never done a lot of things.

“Why am I here?” Toji asks bluntly. Cutting to the chase, because the suspense of anticipating the worst has his stomach coiling in sharp knots. He’s waiting for a fleet of officers to come barrelling down your staircase, ready to gun him down where he stands. Or, alternatively and arguably more dread-inducing, you’ve corralled him here so you can collect proper reparations for all the anguish he’s put you through. Both would be thoroughly deserved.

A glance is thrown from over your shoulder. “I have something for you. Please, sit.”

“Okay.”

Toji settles on the sofa while you pad upstairs. He never cared much for your couch, its expensive leather was stiff and unforgivingly uncomfortable. Like it was brand new. Like you never had time to sit in it with the schedule you worked. That was the setting for the rest of the room, as well—unlived in in appearance, cold and empty.

Footsteps thud. He turns his head and watches you curiously as you reemerge from the second level of the house. A ball of worn fabric swaddles your fist.

Toji sits up a little, looking up to where you stand before him with the puzzling bundle of textile. “Is that my..?”

“Your shirt,” you finish for him, tossing the thing into Toji’s chest, to which it hits before tumbling limply into his lap. Not for a second does he bother sparing a glimpse to the useless shirt; still, he commits to your eyes, hoping that you can decipher the inquisitiveness in his.

Gravelly and mystified, “what?”

“You left your shirt here the last time—”

“What?” A decrepit, holey tee shirt cannot be the reason why he’s sitting on your couch right now. In a bone-crushing clutch, the shirt sits braving force from Toji’s iron fist. He holds it with such conviction that his fingers activate a tremble.

You’re not stupid. You’re the most intelligent, most sagacious woman—person—he knows. So it really fucking irks him when you continue to play oblivious.

“What do you mean, what?”

“I’m not here right now because of a dumb shirt.”

Your lips smack together pensively, looking fixedly at the drab, eggshell walls. To the porcelain tiles now scuffed from being grazed on by two bespattered tactical boots. To your own feet, to the perturbed curl of your toes. To anywhere besides him. Never had you avoided looking at Toji so unmitigatedly, as if locking eyes for even a split second would cause worldwide devastation.

He reflects upon the night you’d thrown him out, discarding him back to the streets where he belonged. “‘Get the fuck out of my home’, she says,” Toji mumbles a recitement of your own words, struggling to keep the muzzle on his distaste. Elbows on his knees, head in his hand, he taps his index to his lip in thought. “You hate me, and then suddenly you like me enough to return my damn shirt… What kind of game are you playing? Just fucking cut it out and be blunt about what you want from me because I’ve had a really shit day and I’m not in the mood to be cute for you, Y/n.”

You bear his outburst in stride, pulling a face of forlorn at his apparent exhaustion. You don’t shout back at him, nor do you comment on his attitude that you’d surely never let slide in the past.

“Okay.”

On tiptoes, you shuffle closer to fit between Toji’s spread thighs. There is a streak of hesitation that perpetually hugs around your body, he realizes, because every which way you turn oozes trepidation in its slow tempo. Jitters teeter down your person, oscillations so tangible that it sways your hair. “You’re shakin’,” Toji annotates, tilting his chin back to gaze up at you. Shaking like a leaf, in fact, and he wonders where all your composure has fled to. “Why’re—”

“I need to…” You take a pause to swallow down the thick ball of uneasiness clogging your esophagus. A sheen glints along your forehead, cheeks, neckline; fucking sweat. “I have to confirm something.”

You are off. This whole situation is off, and Toji can’t pin a point on any of it until…

Slowly, clumsily, your hand glides down the elegant curve of your oblique, toward the ponderous bulk against your thigh. With the brain of a seasoned assassin, Toji pieces the puzzle together with time to spare. Time he could’ve spent lunging at you, pinning you to the floor beneath his body weight, subduing your wrists in the cuffs of his own fingers. But he doesn’t. Be it a product of his own stupidity, his lackluster will to live, or maybe even his inextinguishable urge to devote his trust to you, Toji lets you draw open the curtain of your robe and pull your concealed gun on him.

With heavy puffs of breathing, you direct the barrel of your handgun toward the centerpoint of his chest. It wobbles in a hybrid of uncertainty and inexperience, and there’s a cold, metallic rattle discernible the whole time. Toji admires the gun—it’s a small thing, some flavor of a colt pistol with a cask forged from iron. It looks weighty and misplaced in the palms of your delicate hands.

“Nice piece,” he allots useless, apathetic praise.

Evidently, you aren’t in the mood to reciprocate his quips. “Be serious.”

“I am.”

There is something picturesque about you in this context, it overpowers the innate fear he should be feeling right now. You tower before him like a deus ex machina, his own personal angel of death, granting him divine reprieve from this remarkably bleak concept of life. Toji wants to kneel, call you beautiful, and kiss your feet in appreciation.

“I wasn’t lying when I told you I liked you.” Those words contradict the finger you hold against the trigger. You shake your head, contracting the muscles in your jaw. “Was it just a version of you that I fell for?”

Toji concedes. “Yeah.”

“Do I even know you?”

His thick eyebrows furrow at the question. Do I even know you? “There’s so much I haven’t told you yet.”

You sneer, “you mean, so much you’ve lied abou—”

“No.” Toji holds up his hand, a pardon to interrupt. Because he has never spewed untruths in lieu of keeping his double life a secret. He never lied about his job, his addictions, his mental instability—there were no flimsy excuses, Toji had simply pretended his weaknesses did not exist. You made him forget they were even there in the first place. “No, I didn’t lie. Not once.”

“Then what purpose did you have for me at all?” Wetness glistened over rounded eyes, and wistful tears began to collect along your lash line. Toji watches a bead of sadness break loose, hanging from a cluster of eyelashes. Looking up to the ceiling, you attempt to blink it away. “I just… Fuck. I promised myself I wouldn’t sleep with you—wouldn’t get attached—but you… Why did you lay with me?”

The gun still aims to his heart. “I wanted to.”

“I feel like my head is spinning,” you weep, sniffling in the air. So utterly hopeless. “I feel like I don’t know you at all. Or your intentions.” You were a woman of prowess and authority, a real powerhouse in the sense that you always seemed to just know. Knowing what, knowing why, knowing how; he was so strangely drawn to that superlative superpower, finding your wisdom one of the most alluring things in the world. So perhaps that’s why Toji feels worse than cow shit right now, subjected to the awful sight of your realization that you truly don’t know who he is. The reigns were relinquished from your hands. “I’m scared, Toji.”

“Of me?” A stupid question he already knows good and well the answer to, but he asks anyway.

You whimper out your answer with a dejected nod. “Yes.”

The sorrow that oozes from your stare physically hurts, something akin to watching an eclipse with naked eyes, so Toji fixates on the handgun instead. The metallic shine indicates that it was recently purchased and most likely never used. You must’ve bought the thing specifically for this purpose.

“Are you going to kill me, Y/n?”

There’s no response. It aggravates him.

“Are you?” Toji asks once more, projecting a rougher tone. Digging for an answer.

Through tears, you whimper out a little reply, a question to his question. “Will you stop me?”

No. No, he fucking won’t. He sees through your plan; you’re waiting for him to lash out, to fight for his life. You want him to give you a reason to pull the trigger and prove your theories right—theories that he’s nothing more than a dangerous, vindictive animal hell bent on satiating his bloodlust. But Toji isn��t much of anything other than a torpid waste of oxygen. He won’t combat fate, he won’t put his hands on you even in the face of death. Toji takes your shaking wrist into his hand, keeping every last movement slow and sticky. You flinch away upon contact, but the look in his eyes was nothing if not assuaging, so you let yourself be handled. He draws you near, close enough to press the end of the barrel directly against his head. “Aim here,” he instructs with a lulling timbre, and fixes the thing to rest harshly on his temple. “It’ll be quicker. Less blood.”

Horrified, “what are you doing?”

“I ain’t gonna get violent with you.” Toji feels ready. This is okay, to die in a room as pretty as this one, facing a sorry sight as pretty as you. It’ll be a hassle to clean up for you, but you’re sharp as a knife. You’ll figure it out. His other hand, the one not attached to your forearm, rises to touch at your hip. Massaging over the thick robe, holding the dip of your waist with a vice grip. “If this is what I gotta do to prove myself, then fine. I’m ready, so take the safety off and put a bullet in my brain already.”

“N-no…”

“Yes.” He jimmies your arm, coaxing you to shoot. “Fucking do it, I know you can.”

“No!” You roar in his face, lips reeled back in a desperate snarl. “No, you made your point!” A knee sinks into the space of cushion between Toji’s legs, a hand clawing at his forearm. “Stop it, enough already!”

Toji is bemused by your fanfare of emotion. He barely winces as you work hard to pry your wrist from his handhold, scratching overgrown and timeworn acrylics into the tough flesh of his arm. “I can’t keep up with you, woman.” He tuts, observing the struggle. “Y’kick me out, then you call me back. Don’t talk to me for months, but you’re paying my rent. Pull a gun on me, then start crying when I give you a push.” Reaching up, Toji finds the warmth of your neck, cupping his palm to it. Sliding up and up, pushing your jaw with thick fingers because he needs you to stop focusing on the gun and start focusing on him. Your head is steered by his ginger hand, forcing your guys’ eyes to bridge. “You had me fooled. Here I thought you were more mature than whatever-the-fuck this is.”

“You want to talk about maturity?” Like a coin, the doleful effusion you bled was flipped into bewildered agitation. Fire ignites underneath your tongue and Toji braces for its heat.

“Yeah, sure,” ever the impudent asshole, “let’s talk.”

You give him a funny look. A you have a lot of fucking nerve look. “It’s because of your immaturity that we’re here right now!” Getting closer, your other leg fits across the opposite side of his, effectively perching yourself over his thick thigh. Toji grunts under the force in which you sit down. “You and your stupid flirtations. You made me believe that we could have…” Breaking off into a frustrated groan, you shook your head. “How selfish can you be, Toji? To pursue me when you know damn well what you’ve done is unforgivable.”

The tip of his tongue finds his molars, and he looks away for a moment to analyze your question. A moment that is cut entirely too short when you return the favor of maneuvering his head. “No, you need to look at me, too.”

There isn’t any elaborate reasoning he can present to you on a silver dish. When it comes down to the brass tacks of it all, that was just it: Toji is selfish. The only taste of love Toji had ever gotten was when he was young and dumb in his early twenties, spontaneously marrying the first woman who convinced him that he was worthy of tenderness. God, she was gentle with him, seizing his heart in her hands with so much caution and kindness that it made him physically ill. When she passed, he was positive that his heart had been buried alongside her deep in the Earth. That warmth never returned, not once in the years following when he’d find himself falling into strangers’ beds for a quick living. And he’d curse himself, reliving memories of her every night before sleep. So young and dumb, far too much so to appreciate what he had; what he’d never get again.

But then you came along.

Man, what a plot twist you were.

“You make me feel things.” What the fuck is he even saying? ‘You make me feel things’? That explanation was about as insightful as a child would be. Toji has never so directly spoken about his feelings before, this is challenging.

Non-judgemental, you heed his message and urge him to continue. “Good things or bad things?”

“Uh,” Toji thinks for a second, “nostalgic things? I… Haven’t felt like this in a long time.”

“Felt like what?”

There comes a pregnant pause, and Toji takes this time to peer up at you. You sit tall on his leg, head at a tilt while you wait patiently for him to select a word. An attribute that you shock into his system every time you enter the vicinity. It’s a shitty, embarrassing answer, but he spits it out anyway. “Loved.” Using your quiet to his advantage, Toji prattles on. “Or somethin’ like that. I’m a fucking moron though, for thinking I could keep secrets. Selfish is a good way to put it.”

“You’ve killed people for money. You are the epitome of the word selfish.”

“That shit’s behind me.”

You reel, leaning back in his lap to gauge Toji’s expression. “Really?” It’s asked with skepticism, and Toji’s eye twitches.

“What, you think I’m bullshitting?” His hand involuntarily squeezes your wrist, a futile attempt to communicate his sincerity through touch. “No, I haven’t taken a job since last I left your place. I quit.”

This discovery retires some of that scorn. With a weaker voice than before, “officially?”

Toji gives you a subtle nod. “As much as you want to believe I liked dropping bodies, I really, really didn’t.”

There is a hint of a smile, just barely curling at the corner of your lip, before it droops back down into the biggest frown he’s seen you wear all night. “But then wait a second… Where have you been getting your income from? I stopped issuing checks when we—” You stop yourself from saying it.

“Ah, I’ve just been,” shit, what a dilemma. “Getting some sugar.” It comes out with an awkward chuckle. It’s not a complete lie, sugar baby-ing and prostituting—it was all sex work nevertheless. He isn’t fond of the whorish implication, but you know him. You’ve seen him at his sluttiest, and you weren't disgusted.

“You’ve been having sex?” You veer in toward him. There is no shock or discomfort lacing your words—you know him—only bona fide earnestness.

“Yeah.” Toji feels compelled to say sorry, but he doesn’t. “I needed the cash.” He doesn’t care to rally the question back at you, doesn’t care to know if you’ve fucked anyone else.

It’s subtle, but he can feel the pity radiating off you, seeping into his pores and burrowing under flesh. You look at him the same way you’d look at a scraped-up mutt abandoned on the side of the highway. He fucking despises that look from anyone else, but from you? It’s not so bad. If anything, it’s maybe even a bit soothing, the way you can console him with just your eyes.

“Toji, let go of my arm.”

He does as told, dripping your wrist. The handgun falls to the couch, neglected, but Toji doesn’t get the chance to watch it because you’re shrouding the view. A buxom body nestles against the convex of Toji’s ample chest, two arms coil around his thick neck, fingers scritching over his scalp. You’re hugging him.

“Is this okay?” You must’ve felt him stiffen under the weight of your affections, perhaps you took it as a sign of discomfort. But that’s not it at all; the hesitation was a byproduct of Toji’s emotional stoicism. A defense mechanism he’s built for himself, successful in warding off contingence. Sex was okay. Sex was gritty and rugged and crude, enough to make him forget he was being touched at all. But this? Fucking hugging?

How childish was he for submitting to something so teenage? This was the equivalent of popping a boner from hand holding.

And still… “I like it.” Once again, he lets you tear down his walls. Succumbing to you felt organic, almost as if Toji could just close his eyes and let muscle memory guide his limbs to their place. A heavy head knocks forward, plummeting in the valley between your breasts that have been exposed by the plunging neckline of your robe. Unbeknownst to you, the knot holding it closed had untied itself somewhere in the haste, and it has become more of a loose garnish to your body clad in nothing more than a matching set of dark, rebellious little underwear. Strong arms return the gesture, squeezing you to him so tightly that you must let out an audible oomph as your lungs constrict.

“I like it…” Toji repeats under his breath, nosing a path up to your clavicle. On you, notes of that saccharine, peachy body wash he’d once massaged into your skin. He takes self-indulgent whiffs, closing his eyes to hyperfixate on his sense of smell. “I like you.”

Totally abrupt, no sensibility in the manner, Toji blurts it out. Those three bedeviled words he swore to condemn to the pit of his guts, never to be released aloud. His conscience dictates his actions now, apparently, because the man has no longer any will to swallow his sentiments. After all the terrible, traumatizing shit he’s dragged you through, it’s the least he can offer. You’ve been deserving of those three words for a while now, Toji just never knew how to give them to you. As it turns out, it’s a lot simpler than his imaginations led him to believe.

“You’ve never told me that before.”

He holds you impossibly tighter, hands flat and feeling the landscape of your back. “You knew, though.”

The hand in Toji’s dampened hair clenches when he ghosts his lips over that throbbing neck vein. “Still, you could have said it sooner.”

“I’m sorry.” He kisses you there, then kisses you again. Slow and tantalizing, just the way you liked. “Sorry for being awful.”

Teeth peek out and catch your skin.

“I don’t—” you stop to gasp, cradling Toji’s head and holding him deep into the crib of your neck. “Think you’re awful.”

“Mm.” Blindly, he gropes the cushion beside his thigh, feeling for the discarded gun. Toji taps the cool metal against the chub of your cheek, attentive to the trigger—he never goes near it. Catching you in a lidded staring contest, “you use this on good guys, then?”

You pull a grimace. “I don’t use it at all.”

Toji is thoroughly amused. “You were gonna use it on me,” he chuckles quietly, so close to your pretty face that the point of his nose brushes yours. “Or were you just tryin’ to give me a scare?”

“I…” You trail off into brief thought. “I was afraid. I’m only a normal woman, Toji, it’s not everyday I find myself in the presence of a criminal.”

Again, he laughs, thumb sweeping back drapery that shades your thigh. You make no efforts to halt him, instead just following his line of sight all the way down to the black, leathery holster strapped high upon your thigh. Something about it is so enticing, the way fat pudges out along the sides of the tight strip. Like a garter belt, but a thousand times sexier. “‘Normal’ my ass.” Toji plucks the thing, gauging its limitation to stretch, before releasing it to snap back into place and choke your squishy thigh once more. You yelp, smacking his bicep.

“That hurt, asshole.”

“Sorry,” Toji apologizes loosely. He shakes the gun, hearing its rattle. “So this was a test, then.” There is no quizzical lilt, because there is no question about it. It was a test of trust. The weapon was a mere instigator, a tool to coax Toji into showing his ‘truest colors’; unmasking his supposed violent tendencies. All that trust you placed in Toji’s basket must’ve vanished on that rainy night, in the wake of his confession to murder. All that trust… It soured into bitter doubt.

“A very idiotic, very flawed test,” you sigh, on the cusp of a humorless smirk. “You passed, by the way.”

“I don’t feel like I did. You thought that I would’ve hurt you.”

“I was just preparing for the worst case scenario.”

The way in which he surveyed you was kindred to the nature of religion. Gritty fingertips explored your Holy face, and Toji worshiped every feature. Could you truly not see how sacred you are to him? Toji doesn’t caress the faces of his quick fucks, and he certainly wouldn’t surrender his life to them.

“Put that thought out of your brain. Right now. I will never put my hands on you.”

You look flushed. Your cheek kindles warmth beneath his hand. “I want to kiss you.”

Toji’s instantaneous submission was laughable. Jaw unhinging, scarred lips parting wide, tongue twitching with anticipation. He opens his mouth for you and waits.

His face gets clamped in between two tenacious hands. Nails dig into Toji’s face as he’s yanked in to meet you in a teeth-clanking lip lock. It feels like a breath of fresh air, to kiss you like this again. Suddenly, he forgets what those strangers’ genitals tasted like. He forgets the taste of coke dripping down the back of his throat after snorting his fifth line in one night. Forgets the taste of soupy, liquor-flavored bile. All Toji knows is you and your nectarous little mouth. Your honeyed tongue is a tyrant in his mouth, dominating every wet corner, branding your essence into his taste buds.

“I missed you,” Toji laments into your lips. He grapples with your hips, manhandling them into a constant gyration deep onto the crux of his lap. “I missed us.”

“I can tell,” you mumble and give a sharp grind against him. Against the prominent tent beaming up from the crotch of his pants, and he shudders. Then, you look at him stone cold sober from lust and ask him foolishly, “do you want to have sex right now?”

A nasally exhale huffs out, because you have to be joking with him. “My cock’s hard, ain’t it?”

You’re a beacon of po-faced prudishness, all the while he pants for more. “Your erection is a given, considering the position we’re in,” close-grained and consolidated in intimacy. You tap Toji’s forehead, “how do you feel up here? I’d like to know.”

Such shitty pillow talk, but even still, Toji felt rosy. It made him feel acknowledged; recognized as more than just a dick to bounce on. Fuck, you’re really turning him on with that corny, mushy bullshit. “I’m good,” he tells you honestly. “I want you.”

I want to be inside of you.

“And you’ll let me know if that feeling changes?”

He groans against your cheek, “Jesus, yes, just fuckin’ touch me.”

“Ask me appropriately.”

Here he goes, sounding like a little bitch again. “Please, m-ma’am… Take it out.” Another memory to add to his internal cringe compilation.

Satisfied, you sit up on your haunches. “Lift your ass.” He does so, and accepts your help to shimmy the waistband of those constricting pants down to quarter thigh. Just low enough to make a spectacle of the hard rod straining against the thin material of his snug boxer briefs; gray and breathable and damp with his pre-ejaculant.

“Shit.” Toji huffs, giving a weak jerk when your hands begin the delicate procedure of feeding his slippery appendage through the piss hole at the front of his ruined underwear. He watches you pull him out with grace—he’s privy to the consideration you show to his most sensitive spots when you handle him like this. He thinks it’s endearing.

There his dick stands, tall and proud in the valley where both pairs of hips meet flush with one another. Toji looks down at the pinkish thing, watches the way it drifts back to hit his navel, falling under its own mass. “Rub me,” Toji whispers with his forehead pressed against the shelf of your shoulder, gazing down under heavy lids to watch his own dick drool spittle into his tee shirt. A hand precipitously hangs below his chin, fingers and palm working with each other to create a makeshift bowl. Assuming to catch something.

“Spit, Toji.”

A second hand strokes the back of his skull, and the gesture emmenates patience. There’s only a split second of hesitation before he grants your vulgar request. Toji swishes his tongue around, collecting every ounce of saliva that coats the inner seams of his sticky mouth before opening up. The wet muscle unfurls, and a waterslide of spit cascades down into the palm of your awaiting hand. He’s rewarded for his efforts—good job, Toji—before you get down to business.

His spit is cold when it smears along his tip. Toji bites his lip, sinks his digits deep into the meat of your ass, and fixates on keeping a composed breathing pattern because fuck, your hand was magical. You jerk him off leisurely, maintaining languid strokes that squeeze tighter near the peak of his length. “This alright?” You coo next to Toji’s ear, keeping your free hand busy playing with his raven locks.

Toji makes a pitiful, throaty noise in response. “Do it faster.”

“No.”

He grits his teeth. “Unfair…” Toji’s hands tremble. To combat this, he begins grabbing at the robe still hugging over you, shielding that sexy body from his perverted glare. You make no indications that he should stop, so he doesn’t. Shucking off that expensive, red cape down your perfect shoulders, splitting the front open right down the middle. It’s a black, lacy little number, and the cups of your darling bralette plead transparency.

Toji pulls the thing up without dawdling, sighing blithely at the heavenly prospect of your perfect breasts bared and ready to be taken by his mouth. “God.” He captures your tit in one hand, squeezing it, playing with its weight. Your latter breast gets swiftly tucked between his lips, subjected to enthusiastic teasing from Toji’s tongue. He’s teething, rolling your budding nipple between rows of ivory fangs like he’s trying for milk.

“You’re so hungry for it.”

“You've been depriving me of this,” Toji emphasizes his point with a long, keen lick to your cleavage. “An’ you expect me not to be starving.”

You pull him off your chest by the scruff of his neck, hoisting Toji’s heavy head up at your face level. Saliva moistens his lips, and you take your time swiping up his spit with your deft thumb pad. “Shall we get on with it, then?” Condescension and sympathy duel each other when you speak to him, like he is the unreasonable one for becoming a frenzied mess of sensuality.

Toji is about to answer when it catches his eye. The glinting iron barrel, taunting him. It sits once more at the side of his thigh, untouched and forgotten. Begging to be used.

“I want you to fuck me.” There’s a brief intermission of silence while he collects the weapon, grabbing it by the cask and offering you its handle. You’re inquisitive, staring at the thing with uncertainty, so Toji lays his motives out across the table. “Hold this on me while you do it.”

You chortle, expecting his laugh to come next. But it never does, so you stop and raise a brow. “Come again?”

“You went through the trouble of buying this just for me, yeah?” It was obvious to anyone with two working eyes that you had no experience maintaining firearms. The gun was spotless, brand-spanking-new, and never had you mentioned to Toji that you keep something so dangerous in your home. So yeah, you can try to deny it all you want, but he knows that the only reason you now own a pistol is in case you needed to pop a cap in his brain. “Now I’m asking you to use it.”

“Toji,” you sweatdrop, “I don’t think…”

He takes your hand in his and presses the grip of the gun into your palm before securing your fingers around its silicon. Wide eyes look at him with pure solicitousness. “It’s okay.” Just like before, he steers you into position. “Jus’ keep your arm up like this. Hold it to my head. Yeah, perfect.”

“This is sick, even for you.” Despite your words, you don’t sound too dismayed.

“Been rocking a half chub the second you pointed it at me.”

“Filthy.”

Toji hums offhandedly, peeking down at your panty-clad pussy. Your undies were cute, he thinks, teasing the tiny ribbon bow perched on the waistband with a feather-light fingertip. Twin ebony fibers crafted the panties, just as chiffon as the bra. “Gets me off,” he shrugs, hooking his index beneath the gusset and dragging it to the side where it’ll stay in the crease of your thigh. Toji can feel the blaze of your core grate against his hand. You’re turned on. He looks back at you. “Putting my life in your hands.”

You’re shifting, stretching up a little higher to accommodate his cock. One of your knees props up at a right angle, the other remains firmly planted into the couch. “You’re so insane.” Ruddiness blooms along Toji’s neck when you hawk a wad of spit into your hand and bring it down to rub yourself. Lubricating yourself for him, moaning for him, fuck. He’s holding himself too.

“Aintcha feelin’ powerful, though?” Toji challenges haughtily, slapping his swollen tip against your pubic bone. In response, he feels the barrel of the handgun sink a little rougher into the thin skin on his temple, and it makes him chuckle out loud. “Makes you wanna give it to me harder, don’t it?”

Tacky, spit-soaked fingers catch the angle of his running jaw with a grip so taut, it squishes his cheeks and forces his lips into a reluctant pout. “What am I going to do with that mouth?” You glower, and his mind races with a catalog of hundreds of different risque solutions to propose. However, he doesn’t get one out before your next order: “Put it in.”

And he does right away. A concoction of spit, semen, and cunt juice made the insertion process quick and painless. Without delay, your hips crash down into his lap, and it draws a paltry cheep past his clenched teeth. Fronts stick together thanks to the bone-crushing bear hug he ensnares you in. You give in, throwing your arms over his broad shoulders to attune to the sudden adjacency. He can feel a hard, steely nozzle trace around the circumference of his skull, ending at the base behind his head.

And that’s how you two sit for a while; inside one another, breathing humid puffs of carbon dioxide into each other’s necks.

“I’m… Gonna move now.”

“Please,” Toji murmurs.

Hands walk down your spine, finding purchase on the malleable globes of your ass. Toji kneads like it’s dough; grabbing, pulling, grinding you back and forth. This is how sex should feel, you’ve made him come to realize. Equal parts raw and nasty in perfect tandem with intimacy and comfort. Hell, you have a fucking gun trained at his cerebellum, and even with that unusual addition, this is the safest sex he’s had in months.

You are an expert in the ways of motion, methodically pirouetting those godsent curves in the most salacious degrees. “Oh God, don’t fucking stop,” Toji pleads, lapping against the slope of your neck. It’s killing him, the way you’re fucking his body deep into the couch like you owned it. It’s physically strenuous to keep his teeth at bay. “Don’t you fucking stop.”

The gun clinks against his head, the thud echoing in his mushy brain. “Hey,” you manage to pant out between short grunts. “No marks, y-you know that.”

Oh. Right. Stupid fucking professional job bullshit…

In the throes of Toji’s desire to swallow you whole, your warning goes in one ear and flies right out the other. “It’ll be fine,” he hushes you, skimming his sharp canines up your throat.

“Toji.”

“How about here, then?” Before you could say ‘knife’, the tip of a tongue prodded into your ear. Swiveling around, collecting your flavor. Even here, you tasted clean. Like soapy chemicals, but not unpleasant.

“Toji!”

You’ve stopped fucking him. Toji blinks, and suddenly, he’s being pushed into the back of the sofa by a hand in the center of his pectorals. It takes a second to catch his breath, but when he does, “what?”

Gawking, you palm your ear and cast a horrified look. “You can’t lick there! That’s dirty!”

“But I felt your pussy squeeze when I slid my tongue in—” He hacks around the foreign object. Did you just…?

“Your fucking mouth.” The barrel now lodges in his mouth, pressing back against Toji’s tongue hard enough to trigger salivary glands. It’s obvious that his nonchalance had rendered you harebrained, but thrusting the gun between his jaws like that was the last thing Toji expected you to do. It appeared that the surprise of it all was mutual—you, too, ogle your hand that holds the firearm. “Oh my—Toji, I’m sorry I didn’t—”

With haste, you move to reel back. But Toji’s reflexes are military grade, so he’s able to snag your wrist and hold you there. The shock subsided, and in its wake was the most intense form of pleasure he’d ever felt. Has there ever been a more pure forgery of submission than this? Choking on the loaded gun of your lover, hinging on each breath, wondering if your next will be your last. The whole concept is giving him a headrush far greater than any drug could. So Toji holds you in place, muffling out his pleas through the metal. Staring at you down his nose, eyes teeming with his adoration.

I want it. And he means it.

Thank God you’re not one of those dumb bimbo bitches he normally fucks with. You understand the message conveyed in his eyes. You see it. You’re not dense, you know what he wants, and you’ll give it to him. “Tap my leg if you need a break.” He won’t.

The humping of his sore cock resumes, and any crumb of fortitude left within him curled up and wilted like the Hydrangeas on your front doorstep. He wilts too, collapsing back into the couch while you use his erection.

You mewl contentedly, bracing yourself with a gentle touch to his pec. A stark contrast to the way your latter hand thrusted the piece in and out of Toji’s willing mouth. He’s not averse to something long and stiff down his throat—desperate times called for desperate measures, and if he had to suck a few cocks to cover the bills, then that’s exactly what he was gonna do. Though this was more enjoyable by miles, he thinks offhandedly while he stifles his gags. There’s no musty stench burning up his nasal cavity, no foul taste of unwashed skin. And a potential bullet was much more appetizing than the inevitable gluey spunk guaranteed at the end of every hummer. Spit bubbles up into a foamy mess at the corners of his lips as he sucks the gun. Sucks it like it’s attached to you, like you’ll be able to feel the way he coils his experienced tongue around the metallic muzzle.

“You’re really i-into that..” Awe infuses each shaky syllable, and Toji hopes maybe in some twisted rhyme or reason, he’s impressed you. Once more, he tries to talk back, but the barrier between his teeth results in utter incoherence.

Orgasm was near shortly after, and the only warning Toji can supply is a broken half-cry, half-cough. His body began to jerk and twitch in strange ways. Like his right thigh, now sporting an uncontrollable tremble. Or his eyes rolling skyward. “You want to cum?” You asked softly despite your own impending climax, and you stroke the clenching muscles in his abdomen.

“Nngh.” Fucking pathetic, but it’s the best he can do.

The muzzle clips the back of his throat, and tears spring into Toji’s trundling eyes. Everything gets brighter, and atmospheric sounds jumbled together into deadened white noise. Very distantly, weight lifts from his legs, and that’s when he can’t stop from diving over the edge of his orgasm.

Toji shakes, then shakes some more. Oh, his mouth is empty. When did that happen? Everything is wet and thick and syrupy. The brightness starts to fade, but even still, he has to cover his sensitive eyes with a forearm while he gasps his way back to reality. “Fu… F-fu… Ck…” You have diluted him down to nothing but a babbling idiot. Jesus Christ.

“—ji… Toji!”

Hazily, he peeks down from underneath his arm. You’re massaging soothing circles into his restless thighs that have still yet to calm down. But you’re doing it all with a quiet grin. “There he is.”

I’m happy.

Because you remind me that I can have good things.

There is your beautiful face, shining at the end of his orgasmic rainbow. Ready to clean up his mess, ready to talk him into slumber, ready to hold and caress under a shared blanket. Maybe he can deserve this—you—if he works hard enough.

Summoning whatever remained of his stamina, Toji lurches off the couch’s back to meet you into a sweet kiss. A simple kiss, devoid of any spit swapping; just his lips to yours.

“Here I am.”

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moonstruckme · 12 days ago

Note

Hi lovely! Can you do poly!wolfstar or either of the two with reader who suddenly feels rlly overstimulated at a party despite the fact that she parties a lot? Thank you! <33

Thank you for requesting <3

cw: overstimulation, not explicitly a panic attack but looks p similar, thick crowd/claustrophobia

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

The crush of bodies is almost too dense to see through. Luckily, Remus can look over most heads.

He ought to have known better than to try to carry three drinks on his own. Nearly a third of the one that’ll have to be his has spilled down his hand and wrist, the three of them held over his head as he pushes through the crowd. It’s a rather large apartment, but an apartment still, which Sirius' coworker has absolutely packed with people. Remus is fairly sure if he looked over he’d see the door to the hallway is open, party guests spilling out into the hall where the smoke from cigarettes and spliffs floats back inside. It’s a nice home, but it smells like any underground club now, like smoke and drink and too many bodies.

You and Sirius aren’t where Remus left you. He doesn’t think much of it. It’s difficult to stay in one place with this many people moving about like undisciplined schools of fish. He skims over the tops of heads until he finds a familiar one, Sirius’ dark hair gleaming in the low light of a corner. He’s holding you close to his front, your face in his neck and his hand cupped protectively over the back of your head. He looks like he’s speaking into your ear, dark brows pinched.

Remus’ heart clenches.

He spills more of your drinks as he hastens to you, sets them down on a mantle on the way. Sirius catches his eyes when he’s nearly there. He says something to you, rubbing your back.

“Hi.” Remus has to speak louder than he likes, over the sound of too many other voices. He devotes one hand to the back of your neck and the other to Sirius’ shoulder. “Everything alright?”

Sirius shakes his head. He looks anxious. “I don’t know what happened,” he says. In a sweeter voice, his hand moving over your back, “I think we’ve just got a bit overwhelmed, hm?”

You haven’t reacted to Remus’ presence. Now that he’s closer he can see you’ve got your fingers curled in the front of Sirius’ shirt like a lifeline, your grip tight and rigid.

Remus gives Sirius’ shoulder a squeeze. “Sweetheart,” he says gently, “can you look at me?”

You turn your face from Sirius’ shoulder. Your eyes are glassy and wide, your chest falling in quick, short pants. You look like you don’t know what’s happening to you, either.

“You’re okay.” Remus presses a kiss to your temple, looking around to assess your options. “You’re okay, my love. We’re going to go somewhere quieter, alright?”

The door’s too far. If the crowd’s what’s overwhelming you, it could only make things worse to push through. There’s a line for the only bathroom. But there is a balcony, not too far and better than nothing if you can get to it.

A speaker nearby booms as Remus reaches for Sirius’ hand. He’s murmuring to you, something Remus can’t hear over the music, but he looks up at the touch.

“You’ve got her?” Remus asks.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He presses a quick kiss to the back of Sirius’ hand before starting to tug the both of you along.

The crowd parts more easily for Remus than it would for either of you. He mutters sorrys and excuse mes as he plows through with the two of you in tow. Sirius keeps you held tight to him, your hands still fisted in his shirt. When Remus opens the sliding door to the balcony, the difference in both air quality and noise level is pronounced.

“Can we have some space, please?” Remus asks the couple smoking outside. His voice comes out sharper than he intends, curt and all business, but he can’t find it in himself to regret it when they quickly put out their cigarettes and head inside.

Sirius helps you into a chair. “I know, baby, I know, just take a breath. We’re okay, see? Everything’s alright.”

Your first deep inhale sends twin tears tumbling down your cheeks. It shudders back out of you. You seem like you’d been frozen, trapped inside your own head, and now you’re coming back out.

“There you go.” Remus’ voice is softer now. It aches in the back of his throat, worry and love and guilt at leaving you two alone. Though you did have each other, and it seems it’s a good thing you did. “Just keep doing like that, babydove. We’ve got you.”

Sirius looks pained at your tears, but he rubs your leg and crouches on the floor so that Remus can take the chair beside yours. Remus sets a hand on his boyfriend’s head as he sits, smoothing down his hair to rub between his shoulders comfortingly.

They let you work through most of your anxiety in silence, offering only the occasional murmur of encouragement or weak, consoling joke about fire codes. Eventually your breaths even out and your tears stop. You let your head loll onto Remus’ shoulder, expelling a sigh.

“I don’t…” you mumble. “Don’t know what just happened.”

They’re both relieved to hear your voice, Sirius squeezing your leg affectionately while Remus smooths a few pieces of hair from your face. “There’s an awful lot going on in there,” says Remus, lips a whisper away from your hairline. “Gets to be a bit much, yeah?”

“I guess.” You sigh again, almost frustratedly. “Sorry, it’s not like I’ve never been to a party before. I don’t get why I did that.”

“You don’t get to be sorry,” Sirius says lightly. He drops a kiss above your knee. “The only person who should be sorry is Michael, when the fire department shows up here because he’s got too many people in his fucking one-bedroom apartment.”

“You tell ‘im.” You sound exhausted. Your head weighs heavy on Remus’ shoulder.

He touches his lips to your hairline. “You feeling ready to call it a night?”

You hum. “I could be, but I’m also okay with sticking around if you guys want to.”

“Oh, my sweetheart.” Sirius surges upward, hugging you around the middle. His nose nuzzles your shoulder, and you smile tiredly, patting him on the back. “You can’t stay here for us after all that. Fuck, I don’t think either of us want to stick around, either.”

“No,” Remus agrees. “This crowd is horrid. I’m ready to go home.”

“I’m ready for pajamas, and cuddles, and” —Sirius’ voice grows muffled as he mushes kisses into your neck— “our soft, soft bed.”

“You make it sound quite nice,” you say, smiling for real now. “I guess I could call it quits for the night. Twist my arm.”

“Yeah, I won’t be hearing any arguments. I want to go home, and you carousers can’t stop me.” Sirius plants a final, firm kiss on your cheek, grinning too.

“It’s going to be a bit of work to get through to the door,” says Remus. He brushes his thumb gently over the place Sirius’ lips had touched, chest warm with affection. “Once you’re feeling up to it, we can go.”

“Oh.” You turn your head to look in through the window at the densely packed apartment. “Do you think we can take a few minutes out here first?”

“Course, sweetheart.” Remus kisses your head, easing it back down onto his shoulder. “Take all the time you need.”

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cheolhub · 1 year ago

Text

BABY FEVER — CHOI SEUNGCHEOL ࿐

summary. after a picnic date at the park goes horribly wrong, all choi seungcheol wants for his birthday is to fuck a baby into you.

wc. 3.4k+

warnings. established relationship, kinda ? dom!cheol, f. reader, pussy-drunk-bitch-in-heat cheol, breeding kink, literal baby making, marriage kink if you squint, reader referred to as mommy (x2), unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), light body worship (f. receiving), vulgar language… heavy praise, pet names [baby, angel, princess] — MINORS DNI 18+

note. it’s an international holiday (aka cheol day) hehehe HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY LVRBOY <333 forgive me bc this is actually so rough… i forced myself to finish it in time for his bday 😍 please be gentle!! i promise ill make it up to all of u with a MUCH better cheol fic -3- happy coupsie day 2 u all x (thank yew @jeonghantis for reading this for me TWICE and always encouraging me <3)

you have to admit, this is not how you thought seungcheol’s birthday lunch would pan out.

no, you definitely did not expect to end the day with your legs wrapped around your beloved boyfriend’s waist while he split you open on his cock, breathily promising that he’ll give you a baby. a ring. a life for the both of you.

because when you took said boyfriend out for a picnic in the park, you did expect a serene lunch date with him and his favorite food. you even wore the sundress he bought for your birthday. it was supposed to be the perfect gift.

but you hadn’t realized how busy it’d be. how could you have known? it was just a random tuesday afternoon in the midst of august– arguably the hottest month of the year. who, besides the two of you, would want to be out on a day like this?

rowdy, unrestrained children. that’s who.

it seems that children and parents have nothing better to do than crash birthdays and cause you massive headaches.

when you looked over at seungcheol on the blanket halfway through your food, you discerned the faraway look in his eyes. he hasn’t said much. much less of how he feels about his “gift.” he wasn’t there– probably disassociated because of the noise. you realized then that you probably should’ve picked a different spot… or stuck to the homemade candlelit dinner you had initially planned. or done literally anything else.

“cheollie… do you wanna leave?” you asked, concern laced in your voice. “we don’t have to stay, we can go home and do whatever you want.”

his jaw clenched and unclenched at the sound of your voice. he offered a shuddered breath and gave you a curt nod. “yeah, let’s go home.”

and so you did. you felt defeated as seungcheol bruisingly gripped the steering wheel the entire ride home. you felt defeated as you sat in the passenger seat thinking of ways to fix his now-ruined birthday. you felt defeated as you two rode away in silence. complete silence.

when you arrive back at your home, you dejectedly drop the basket off in the kitchen without bothering to unpack it. cheol stays on your tail the entire time, following you back to your room after throwing the keys on the island next to the picnic basket.

and when you reach your destination, you let him in before closing the door behind you and then he pounces. he has you pinned to said door in an instant.

completely thrown off by his change in behavior, you splutter out, “ch-cheol, what the fuck?!”

“baby,” he mutters breathily, his eyes scanning your features. the faraway look in his eyes has been replaced, both of them filled with something completely different. lust. it’s like the last hour never even happened.

he has you caged in. one of hands pressed flat against the door and the other gripping your waist. there’s a mere inch of a gap separating the two of you and you can feel all the heat radiating off of his body.

still wide-eyed, staring up at him, you softly– apprehensively– ask, “cheol? are you okay?”

admittedly, seungcheol is not okay. not in the slightest. he doesn’t want to scare you, but watching kids run around– hearing how happy they were– had him thinking thoughts. thoughts of having a kid of his own.

it had his heart fluttering at first, the idea of having a mini him running around the house. it filled him with the utmost joy.

then his thoughts escalated. thoughts of having a kid turned into thoughts of having a kid with you. thoughts of getting you round and pregnant with his child rotted large portions of his brain away.

and it progressively got worse and worse. with every passing minute, the images in his brain became more clear till the only thing on his mind was folding you in half and fucking a baby into you while you begged for it.

he’s not sure how to relay said thoughts to you. the two of you have been dating for years and you’re in a really good place, both financially and emotionally.

but dropping the ‘i want a kid’ bomb? before he’s even proposed? it’s taboo…untraditional… it’s something you potentially don’t even want, so he should ease into the conversation of children and marriage.

but…choi seungcheol thinks he’s lost the ability to think and speak clearly. that’s why he blurts it out without logically thinking it over, lost in a haze of lust and need and burning hot desire.

“wanna have a baby,”

your stomach drops and the air in your lungs vanishes, leaving you breathless.

“w-what…cheol? a baby?” you ask slowly. “you… wanna have a baby?”

a small growl bubbles in his chest when you repeat his words. “wanna give you a baby.”

heat creeps up your neck and within seconds– when you realize the intent of his words– your entire body burns as arousal courses through your veins. seungcheol doesn’t just want to have a kid… he wants to fuck one into you.

you can’t say you’ve never thought of having one before, but it was always farther down the line. after marriage and settling down.

even still, your stomach swirls in anticipation, imagining seungcheol as a father. as your husband.

so you reply, “do… do you think we’re ready for that? we’re still pretty young and… we aren’t married…”

your words trail off and you look away, eyes trained on his chest instead.

“i’m gonna marry you.” he says as a matter of factly. “look at me.” he demands, the hand next to your head moves to grip your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “there’s no doubt in my mind. i’m going to marry you, baby.”

hearing that is surreal. he’s said it twice and the words are still rattling around in your empty brain. he’s gonna marry you. there’s no doubt in his mind.

you’d think your heart is about to lurch out of your chest the way it pounds against your ribcage. your palms are dripping with sweat, your knees are buckling about ready to give out on you, your stomach is in knots because, fuck yes, you want this. you want him. and– you guessed it– you want to bear his child.

you don’t know how long you’ve been standing, blankly staring at him. before you can even speak up, seungcheol is dropping to his knees in front of you, both of his hands on your waist now.

you almost think he’s going to propose, leaving you even more speechless, but he leaves a soft kiss on your tummy. he’s gentle, kissing you through the fabric of your dress right above your navel. his lips venture down, though, and his pleading eyes look up at you waiting for your okay.

you let out the breath you were holding, nodding your head.

and cheol swears he would lose it if he hadn’t already.

he reaches for your panties under your dress, yanking them off your body and letting them pool at your feet. his hand moves to hold your dress up, wrinkling it in his grip. the other lifts one of your legs and drapes it over his shoulder before he finally dives into your cunt.

“cheol!” you gasp as you feel his tongue lay flat against your folds. your hands thread through his hair, gripping at his locks as he laps up your arousal. “sl-slow– fuck, baby– slow down,”

seungcheol is a giver, that’s always been common knowledge.

but you tend to forget that he is exceptionally greedy when it comes to eating you out. he can never get enough of you, slurping at your hole and sucking your clit till you’ve cum countless times on his face. a glutton for pussy, you could say.

it’s why he can’t slow down despite your request. his tongue digs into you while he noses at your clit, moaning against your cunt to bring you closer to the euphoric feeling you’ve been craving since he asked to fuck a baby into you.

and it works. it always does. your moaning and whining and begging and it’s fucking music to his ears.

“tastes so good, angel,” he moans against you, words coming out muffled. the vibrations shock your body and you can’t help but jolt, back arching off the door. your hands tighten their grip on his hair, pushing him further into your cunt.

and that’s the thing about seungcheol being insatiable. you always end up greedier than him. it’s like an orchestrated plan.

“more,” you beg through a whine, grinding your pussy into his face. “please more, feels s’good, cheollie,”

he groans against you again, digging his nails into your thigh eliciting your pretty mewls. he tightly wraps his lips around your clit, flicking the swollen bud with his tongue. you throw your head back against the door, eyebrows knitting together as you’re overcome with pleasure.

it hits you before you can even blink. you’re letting out a breathless mantra of seungcheol’s name, your stomach knots up, your breathing increases and you completely lose control as you let go all over his face.

he keeps eating you out, whining while lapping up your release as if he’d been deprived of the taste of your cum for weeks. as if he hadn’t eaten you out just last night. and the morning before that. and three times in a row the day before.

when he’s finally done, he gently sets your leg back down. he observes the way you tremble, struggling to keep balance so his hands are back on your waist, releasing the wrinkled fabric and letting it fall back over your legs.

he stands to his feet, towering over you once again. his hard cock strains in his jeans and he gives you a look that screams ‘i need you’ to which you look up at him with hooded eyes. the sheen of your arousal on his skin, his disheveled hair is quite the sight.

“baby…” he pants, inching closer to you.

“put one in me,” you whisper. you, too, have no doubt in your mind about this. about him. you want everything he’s offering to you. “fuck a baby into me, cheol, i want it. i want you.”

seungcheol thinks his life flashes before his eyes when he hears your words. he thinks, maybe, he mishears you for a second, but when you keep that expectant look on your face, he knows that this is very real. that he’s gonna fuck you full of cum and pray it takes.

he closes the gap between you, pressing his lips against yours.

it’s not your average kiss. it’s hot and heavy and, fuck, you think he just might eat you alive. his body is flush against yours now and you feel his bulge digging into your tummy.

feeling him like this has you craving the weight of his cock on your tongue, but you know cheol has no plan of relinquishing any type of control tonight. even if it does mean he’s missing out on the world’s best head.

you kick off your shoes and fumble with the button on his jeans while whining into his mouth. you eventually give up after the button doesn’t budge, wrapping your arms around his neck and grinding against his clothed bulge instead, basking in the way he groans back into your mouth.

he pulls back, swollen lips turning down in a cute pout, “baby, need to fuck you right now…”

you tug at his shirt, whispering, “then fuck me, cheol.”

a guttural groan bubbles in the back of his throat. he pulls your dress up by the hem, growling a soft, “off.”

“you first.”

he raises an eyebrow at you but doesn’t say anything else, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it on to the ground. his hands are back on your dress, but you shake your head.

“pants, too,” you whisper with a cheeky smile.

“didn’t realize this was a strip tease,” he grumbles passively, stepping out of his shoes while his hands easily pop the button of his jeans and yanking them down his thick thighs.

your eyes flit down to his boxers and your saliva pools in your mouth, threatening to spill past your lips at the mere sight of his clothed hard-on.

he interrupts your gawking, gruff, stern voice filling your ears, “take your fucking dress off.”

you giggle, raising your arms. he’s not slow and he’s most certainly not gentle when he practically rips the dress up and off, discarding it into the pile of clothes that lay haphazardly on the floor.

he doesn’t even give you a second before grabbing– manhandling– you and guiding you to the bed.

he lays you down and internally melts. “you’re so gorgeous, baby,” he mumbles, spreading your legs open and eyeing your pulsing cunt. “you’re perfect.”

you don’t know how it’s possible at this point, but you grow even hotter. feverish. you always love his praise and you know he’s well-aware of the fact because he smirks as you squirm and clench around nothing.

“cheollie,” you whimper.

his hands splay over your bare stomach and his cock throbs as an array of dirty thoughts re-enter his mind.

“you’re gonna look so cute when i put a baby in you, isn’t that right?” he murmurs, hands ghosting over your skin before they land on your tits, fondling them through your bra without a care in the world. “gonna be such a pretty mommy…” he tells you, voice dropping an octave.

you moan at the contact and his promiscuous words. arousal drools from your hole, surely soaking a puddle into the sheets under you. you’re not sure how much longer you can wait for him to impale you on his cock before you become a weeping mess.

you whine, eyes threatening to close, “please make me a mommy, cheollie.”

seungcheol lets out a sharp breath, quickly removing his hands from your tits, opting on using them to push his boxers down.

when his length slaps against his abdomen, he lets out a soft groan. he doesn’t wait for anything else, grabbing his cock, spitting on it, stroking it a few times and, finally, pushing his angry red tip against your hole.

when the head of his cock gets trapped between the warm walls of your cunt, seungcheol curses. “tightest fuckin’ thing,” he mutters, shoving himself deeper and deeper, listening to your high-pitched whines and whimpers.

and when he’s finally balls deep inside of you, his eyes flicker up from your pussy swallowing him whole to your contorted, fucked out face that he loves dearly.

he’s breathless, asking, “you good, baby?”

you offer a broken nod and a weak, “s’good.”

it’s all he needs to hear before standing all the way up on his knees, grasping at your waist, and lifting your lower back off the bed.

you squeal, “cheol! what are you–”

you’re cut off by your own yelp when he pulls out and slams back into you without much of a warning. his cock reaches deeper than you think you’ve ever felt and it has your eyes rolling back and your hands pulling the sheets off the bed.

his hips are relentless, continuously driving his cock in and out of you at an impressive speed while groaning out words of praise. you feel his tip bruisingly kiss your cervix and the pained pleasure brings tears to your eyes.

“s-seungcheol–” you sob, arching further into the air.

“i know, baby,” he moans in response. “but, fuck, you’re taking it so well. look so fucking pretty taking my cock like this.” he wants to throw his head back in pleasure, but he can’t bear to tear his eyes away from you.

tears helplessly fall down the sides of your face and your mouth is cracked open, letting out the most gorgeous sounds. your tits spill from your bra, bouncing with every thrust and it’s too good. you look too fucking good.

and you’re going to look even better with his cum leaking out of your cunt.

you ache with the partial bridge seungcheol has you in. you’re not sure if you want to focus on the profound pain or intense pleasure, but when he drops your body back on the bed and his thumb catches your clit, you have no other choice.

you gasp, crying out and clamping around him with an iron grip, “fuh-fuck! cheol– cheollie!”

he growls, rubbing the sensitive bud faster and faster. “you gonna cum for me?”

you pant, chest heaving as you nod your head vigorously. your eyes screw shut and your jaw drops further as you feel the familiar knotting in your tummy. your impending orgasm bubbles in the pit of your belly, a stream of whines and moans leaving your mouth.

“cum f’me, angel.” he coaxes breathily, cock twitching and throbbing inside of you. “s’gonna feel so good, just cum for me.” he practically begs and you think it’s because he’s just as close.

you can’t even find it in you to care because the onslaught of pleasure wracks your body. you clench around him once, twice, three times– and, before you know it, the knots in your tummy come completely undone and you’re left a shaking mess under him.

“that’s it, that’s my fucking girl.” he nearly whines, fucking you through your orgasm while you jerk and thrash on the bed. “god, i love this pussy, your body, everything, baby– i love you.”

you cry, silently praying he’ll press his lips against yours because, god, you love him, too. so much. but your voice is hoarse and you don’t think you can conjure up the words to give him.

it’s like he reads your mind, slipping his hand in between your tits and pulling your body up by the material of your bra and wraps his arms around your body. his mouth presses against yours, swallowing all of your sounds as you swallow his.

your arms wrap around his neck, sobbing in overstimulation as he kisses the life out of you. when he pulls away, you wrap your legs around his waist, the heels of your feet digging into his lower back. you continue to whine, burying your face into his sweaty neck to muffle the noises.

he holds you tighter, pounding into you without any regard to your sounds. “gonna fill you up, princess. gonna fuck you full of my cum, give you a baby, marry you,” he grunts loudly. “everything. gonna– fuck– gonna give you everything.”

you nod, sinking your teeth into his neck.

and seungcheol can’t hold back, moaning your name before pressing his cock as far as he can go and stilling there. ribbons of his release coat your bruised walls and you feel the warmth radiate throughout your body.

cheol’s pants slowly morph into breathy chuckles as he comes to terms with what he’s done.

you shudder, feeling full in more ways than one. you pull your head from the crook of his neck, looking at his gummy grin and dazed eyes and you give him a lopsided grin. you look so content, even after he nearly fucked the life out of you.

“was it too much?” he asks gently after a few minutes of silently staring at each other.

“a lil…” you whisper, weakly clamping around him. “you know i love it when you get like this, though.”

“i know.” he mumbles, unraveling himself from you to marvel at his work. he pulls out of you and watches the way his cum slowly dribbles out of your hole. he can’t help but groan at the sight. “you think this’ll be enough, angel?”

“a few more rounds probably wouldn’t hurt.” you giggle.

“that can probably be arranged.” he hums cheekily. “but, seriously, baby. thank you… for today. you always know how to surprise me.”

“really? i kinda… thought you hated the whole picnic lunch date,” you murmur. “thought i ruined your day.”

“no, baby, i loved it.” he says through a smile, kissing the corner of your mouth. “it was great, i swear… i just thought about fucking a baby into you a little too hard.”

“i’m really glad.” you smile, “and, now that you hopefully did… how would you rate year 28?”

“10/10. truly the best birthday ever.” he says. “i got everything i ever wanted.”

#seungcheol smut #scoups smut #svt smut #seventeen smut

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writtenwhalien · 6 months ago

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jump then fall (into you) | part 2

banner by the talented @jimilter 💖

pairing ↠ jungkook x reader

genre ↠ cruise AU, fake dating AU, best friends to lovers AU | fluff, angst, smut

word count ↠ 52k (pt 2. 14k)

18+ | warnings ↠ swearing, drinking, sexual content: foreplay, oral m. and f., protected sex etc.

summary ↠ bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

note. i hope you're enjoying! ☺️ don't forget to interact please + here's a few songs that inspired me and this story (more at the end too!): photograph — ed sheeran i think i fell in love today — kelsea bellerini where are you now — lost frequencies & calum scott 3:15 (breathe) — russ words — alesso & zara larsson jump then fall — taylor swift

part 2

🍉 note. while I have your attention, I would like to divert it to those in palestine as israel commits war crimes against them. Innocent men, women and children are being tortured, degraded, displaced and murdered endlessly — it is a genocide and we are all complicit if we do nothing.

as a minimum, please donate to legitimate organisations + boycott the big 3 — starbucks, disney and mcdonald’s — as well as others. feel free to message me for more information and/or donation links, thank you <3 🇵🇸

You know what he wants you to say, but as you feel his fingers around yo, all you can think of is how wrong they feel — they’re not as long as the ones you’re most familiar with, not as calloused on the palms or soft from the back. Every moment with Jungkook from the past few weeks buzzes through your mind and it all starts to make sense – you’ve always known Jungkook makes you happy but you never thought about why…

Looking up at Lawrence, you nod slowly. “Yes,” you say, softening the words in the hopes it softens the blow.

It’s a quiet confession, not only because you’re pretending to date Jungkook, but because now you’re no longer sure if your heart is open to anyone else besides him.

Lawrence smiles, releasing a small breath he’d been holding. “I had to ask,” he chuckles.

You’re sure his cheeks are turning pink but with the dim lighting, you can’t be sure.

Lips pursing, you nod.

There’s another moment of hesitation from him, then he kisses your cheek once before stepping back.

“I’m glad I asked though, I’d probably regret it forever if I didn’t,” he adds, eyes gleaming as they look over your face.

You manage to smile despite feeling bad and a little awkward now — it’s not every day someone confesses to your face like this. “It’s okay, I get it.”

Just while your mind races to find an excuse to leave now, Lawrence’s gaze shifts to behind your shoulder and his eyes suddenly widen, face going somewhat pale. You turn around, eyes following his line of sight and when you see who’s standing there, you’re sure your expression mirrors Lawrence’s.

Jungkook and Alias stand more than a few feet away by the staircase towards the upper decks, but it’s not hard to see their expressions from here.

Alias purses his lips and looks at Jungkook before he shifts his weight awkwardly. But it’s Jungkook you’re focused on. His expression is blank and he just stares at Lawrence and you.

How long has he been standing there? Why isn’t he doing anything? And why do you only now realise how close you and Lawrence are still standing while holding hands too?

You let go, stepping back abruptly too but you know it doesn’t make a difference.

Jungkook's lips curl into a curt yet polite smile before he turns and disappears around the corner.

What the hell is happening?

Jungkook and you aren’t even dating for real for this to be a problem so why on earth does it feel like you’ve actually done something so wrong?

The guilty feeling in your chest grows as you stand still, still looking upon where he was.

“I’m so sorry,” Lawrence apologises immediately. “I can go talk to him, it was all my fault.”

“No it’s fine,” you shake your head, managing a smile. “I should talk to him, don’t worry.”

He nods and you walk away before he can say anything else.

“Walk with me?” you say as you approach Alias.

He nods, falling into stride beside you. “What was that about?” he asks, nodding back in the direction of Lawrence.

“Um, he told me he likes me, or at least did,” you wince.

“Ah, that explains it.”

You shoot him a look. “That explains what?”

Alias hesitates. “Well, he looked like he was about to kiss you.”

Oh gosh. “But he wasn’t!” you exclaim in a hushed whisper. “I wouldn’t do that!”

“I know!” Alias exclaims too, “But it still didn’t look good. I’m assuming that’s why Jungkook just left.”

“You think he’s upset by it?”

“Well what else could it be?”

Sighing, you slow down.

Alias looks at you confused. “What’s wrong?”

“What am I doing?” you ask rhetorically, thinking out loud.

Raising his brows, Alias points down the corridor. “Finding your boyfriend to explain what’s happening?” he says almost sarcastically.

“But that’s just it, he’s not actually my boyfriend so why did he walk off? And why do I feel bad about it?” You feel like you sound a bit helpless but at this moment you don’t actually care, at least not with Alias.

It’s confusing — first you find yourself having all these weird moments with Jungkook, then Lawrence tells you he likes you only for you to realise that maybe you actually do like Jungkook, and now Jungkook walking off like this…

Could he actually be upset by this?

Alias’s expression softens and he places his hands on your shoulders, squeezing gently. “I think you know why.”

You frown, lips pouting. “What are you trying to say?”

He chuckles, pulling you in for a hug. “I’m not saying anything. You’re figuring this out on your own.” He pulls back and takes your arm in his as he walks slowly down the corridor again. “Now, what are you going to say to Jungkook?”

His question is met with silence, but he doesn’t push any further as you take the time to think.

You’re well aware of what Alias is trying to say to you but there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to acknowledge it — more like you don’t know how to acknowledge it.

Maybe you do like him? Or maybe you’re just confused? It could definitely just be lust, or even just loneliness as it has been a long time since you’ve last been with anyone. Or maybe all the pretending has gotten to your head? — that’s definitely a plausible reason for the way you’re feeling.

Although, it really doesn’t feel like it. There’s a reason pretending to date Jungkook comes so easily to you. Being with him is natural to you because you’ve always felt like you belong together; now you realise you’ve been feeling that romantically not just platonically. Having been so close to him for so many years has created a safety blanket around you, one that you can’t imagine living without and most definitely can’t ever replace. Even the thought of coming on this trip without him felt so wrong. There must be a reason why it doesn’t feel surprising to you that at some point, your feelings crossed the line from friends to something more.

“I don’t know,” you groan quietly. “This is so weird, what does someone say in this situation?”

Alias actually takes a moment to consider this. “Actually,” he starts, pulling on your arm to stop walking. “You need to be sure of how you feel before you say anything.”

He’s right.

“Take some time,” Alias says. “Maybe just address what happened with Lawrence for now?”

You nod. “Okay, I’ll just tell him what happened.”

“Yeah, do that,” Alias nods too. He looks down the corridor but makes no move to walk any further with you.

Your cabin is only a few doors away so you hug him goodbye, and after he wishes you good luck, you make your way towards it.

Clearing your mind, you focus on the simple goal for now. Just let Jungkook know that there’s nothing between Lawrence and you — what he saw isn’t what it looked like.

Tapping into your room, you feel your heart race a little faster as your nerves rise. Jungkook isn’t anywhere in the cabin but you can hear water running in the bathroom.

Taking a deep breath, you mentally scold yourself to get it together. Some of your clothes from earlier in the day are still scattered on the bed so you decide to at least clear these away while you wait.

It isn’t long until you hear the lock clicking and Jungkook walks out of the bathroom.

You look up to see him patting his face dry with a towel. He’s already dressed for bed and you note that he’s wearing a top this time.

When he sees you, his face shows no surprise or even much emotion at all. He simply nods and averts his gaze almost immediately. “Hey,” he says, tossing the towel into the laundry basket.

“Hey,” you respond quietly while keeping your eyes on him.

He walks over to the bed and starts picking up some of his own mess. If the situation were any different, you wouldn’t really think anything was wrong by the way Jungkook is acting. But you know Jungkook.

For starters, he never folds his clothes neatly before putting them away. He usually just roughly puts them together and hides them away somewhere, yet here he is, laying out a shirt and folding the sleeves with much focus.

“Um, Jungkook…?”

He looks up immediately. “Yeah?” There’s no irritation or anger or anything else in his expression. Just the usual concern you’re used to seeing on his face whenever you call him.

“Are you okay?” you ask, feeling stupid as soon as you ask it.

“Yeah, of course,” he answers, shrugging as he resumes folding his clothes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

Turning away to put your clothes in the drawer, you frown to yourself. You know he knows why you’re asking — him walking off like that wasn’t normal and now him acting like nothing’s happened…

“So,” he says, clearing his throat. “You and Lawrence…”

There it is. You turn to face him again. He’s still looking down as he folds his clothes but you don’t need to see his face to know he’s not looking forward to the answer.

“You like each other?” His voice is steady but you can hear the quiet reservations that come with it.

“No,” you answer immediately.

He pauses for a second and you expect him to say something, but he doesn’t. He only nods and carries on putting his clothes away.

You tell him everything. “We bumped into each other during the game because I was kind of confused about where to go after me and you split up. We just started talking and it came up that I used to have a crush on him way back in high school, and as we spoke…” you watch Jungkook carefully, still unable to see his face as he stays looking down, “… he just ended up telling me how he used to have a crush on me when we were growing up and it apparently never really went away.”

It’s now that Jungkook finally looks up. He has a small smile on his face — not a smirk, not anything to show you it’s anything other than a genuine smile despite it not being his usual smile that meets his eyes.

“So Lawrence likes you then.” He says it more surely, as though he’s just reaffirming a fact rather than asking a question.

You hesitate. “Well, yes, he does but he knows I don’t like him.”

As his smile fades a little, Jungkook raises a brow. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you say, feeling something heavy begin to weigh down your chest.

Jungkook considers this. His gaze is steady as he looks at you from across the room, looking for any clue that might suggest otherwise to him.

The longer he stares, the more you feel the weight on your chest. You don’t like this — you don’t like that Jungkook could even think for a minute that you like anyone else. Since high school, you haven’t had any real feelings for anyone and as Lawrence made you realise, it’s all because of Jungkook.

“Jungkook?” your voice comes out coarse and quiet.

He looks away, jaw shifting as he now chooses to roughly fold his clothes together. Then —

“I think we should stop the whole dating thing, it was my fault so I’ll tell whoever I need to tomorrow.” He says it clearly and decisively. “I don’t wanna hold you back, you should give Lawrence a chance.”

With a scoff, your brows knit together and you frown at him. “I just told you, I don’t like him.”

“He was your high school crush for years, you’ve always wanted this.”

He says it so nonchalantly now and it makes you angry because you know just moments ago he was upset because of this. Sure, he didn’t say anything, but Jungkook is your best friend and you know him more than anyone else.

“Well not anymore!” you blurt. “Why don’t you believe me?”

Jungkook looks at you and immediately you can recognise the small signs of him feeling hurt but he does well to disguise it as best as he can. “I saw how you looked at him that night, Y/N. It was pretty clear how smitten you were, anyone could see it.”

Immediately, you’re confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Cartagena,” he responds, almost despondent. “You came out of the venue together and it was clear from your face that you were over the moon to have him there.”

Now you remember… and devastatingly enough, you realise Jungkook isn’t wrong. You remember how you felt when you initially bumped into him — it was a childish kind of excitement when seeing your crush but that’s all it was. Seeing him just brought back memories and that small part of you came out because it had been so long but since then you know there’s been nothing.

Jungkook, however, wouldn’t know that. You realise that you must’ve looked how he’s describing and gosh, you can’t even imagine how you’d feel if the roles were reversed.

Before you can ever try to find the words to explain how you feel, a knock sounds at the door.

Jungkook is the one who answers it since you’re still too caught up in your thoughts.

You even remember how you’d stupidly been flirting with him right in front of Jungkook, you pretty much called him ‘tall, handsome and mysterious’ when you were supposed to be “dating” Jungkook–

“Lawrence.”

You turn immediately at the sound of Jungkook’s voice. Sure enough, Lawrence is standing there in the doorway looking exactly as he was when you left him.

“Uh, hey,” he says, nodding awkwardly as he glances between Jungkook and you.

You just stare at him blankly. This really doesn’t help you right now.

“Hey,” Jungkook says with a smile, resorting to his usual politeness. “What’s up?”

Lawrence hesitates, still glancing between you both. “Sorry, I was thinking about whether or not I should come but I figured the sooner the better… uh…” he looks down, clearly feeling bad. “I just had to apologise, I told Y/N about how I felt and that was inappropriate and stupid of me when she’s with y—“

“We’re not together.”

Lawrence looks up and at the same time, your eyes snap to Jungkook.

If you thought him saying that was harsh, the blank way in which he says it hurts even more.

“We never were,” Jungkook says. “Y/N just agreed to help me out by pretending to be my girlfriend because my ex is on this trip.”

Lawrence’s face changes from confusion to surprise to realisation within a few seconds. But you’re not looking at him.

Your focus is solely on Jungkook. You can’t clearly describe what emotions you’re feeling. There’s a bit of everything — it hurts, that’s for sure, but you’re also angry at him for so rashly telling Lawrence and you can’t help but feel betrayed.

Pretending to date Jungkook has been nothing but easy for you and these past few days have taught you it’s because there’s probably a huge part of you that wants this. For Jungkook to just end it so suddenly makes you feel like he doesn’t want you the same way you want him.

You wonder if it’s naive to think he wants you back, but you do. Alex has told you countless times, heck all the Cirillo siblings have made a remark or something about Jungkook and you at least once every time you’ve met. Even Lawrence has seen it apparently. Though, none of this necessarily means it’s true.

With the silence in the room, Jungkook looks at you. He holds little emotion in his face but the way his lips are pursed tightly tells you he’s holding back something.

“Uh,” Lawrence glances between you both, “I’m gonna go. Sorry again for everything,” he adds in a mutter. He closes the door as he leaves and you’re left alone with Jungkook.

“Why would you do that?” you ask as soon as the door clicks.

“Because he likes you. I’m not gonna stand in the way of that.”

Your expression falters. Fuck, it’s been a long time since you last wanted to cry but you’ll be damned if you let him see you. Steeling yourself, your jaw clenches.

Despite your best efforts, of course, Jungkook still notices. His own steely expression softens and he almost says something but then stops. For a second, you think he might apologise and even tell you something you want to hear. But he doesn’t.

“What am I supposed to do?” Jungkook asks softly.

There’s a hundred other things he could do but he chose this — even after you’ve told him how you feel about Lawrence.

“Fine,” you flare. “Tell everyone.” Without another glance at him, you walk past him to the bathroom and slam the door shut.

It’s only after a quick shower and some much needed TLC, that you come out of the bathroom.

Truthfully, you didn’t expect Jungkook to still be in the cabin, but it doesn’t make the feeling in your chest go away when you see he’s not there.

There’s so many questions going round and round in your head that it hurts. You trudge across the room, slipping into the bed and finding solace with the comfort of your silk sheets that still smell of Jungkook.

Everything Alex said to you at the start of this trip keeps replaying in your mind — you want it to be true, and sure most of the time it feels true too. But with the way this past hour has gone, you can’t help but doubt it.

If Jungkook really liked you, he wouldn’t have told Lawrence the truth, would he? It doesn’t make sense, why would he? He should’ve wanted to have kept it up the same way you do. Pretending to date Jungkook is as close as you’re getting to the real thing and that’s something that you’re sure that you want.

Now though, you don’t even have that.

It’s not exactly something you can blame Jungkook for. There was no reason for him to keep it up, especially if you haven’t told him why you want to.

Maybe you should tell him now though?

No. That’s too scary. Sure, you want him to know, but the idea of him not feeling the same way is way worse than anything else. Plus, what if he starts to feel uncomfortable around you, you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if he felt that way.

Releasing a heavy sigh, you sink further into the bed and close your eyes.

You shouldn’t say or do anything else until things go back to normal. That’s the best thing to do.

With your mind made up, you try to fall asleep but it proves to be more difficult than normal. With every minute that passes, you wonder where Jungkook is and what he’s doing. It’s only been 15 minutes but you’re already deciding whether or not you should message him.

It’s always been like this with Jungkook — your arguments never usually last longer than a day and most times you settle them straight away.

This feels different.

The sound of the door clicking open simultaneously relaxes you and raises your heart rate.

As Jungkook makes his way across the room, your heart decides to do all kinds of acrobatics. Inwardly, you curse at yourself for not realising your feelings sooner.

You can hear the sound of his shirt being pulled off as he changes into his pyjamas. A moment later, he’s carefully moving the covers back on his side of the bed as he gets in slowly so as not to wake you.

Moments pass in silence and you wonder if he’s fallen asleep, but then…

“Y/N?” His voice is barely above a whisper and just like that, your heart jumps again.

Instead of responding, you turn around to lie on your back. As you lower your hands to your side, you accidentally brush his hand. Reflexively, you move your hand to rest on your stomach instead.

Noticing this, Jungkook turns to look at you. You’re sure he can’t see you very well in the dark but with the white of the ship’s exterior safety lights coming in from the gaps in the shutters, it’s still easy to see fairly well.

For a brief moment, he doesn’t say anything and you don’t turn to look at him. Then, he looks back up at the ceiling too.

“I’m sorry,” he says, sounding deflated.

It hurts you to know he’s feeling bad about something that isn’t even his fault. If it wasn’t for the way you’re feeling, you wouldn’t care about him telling Lawrence and you wouldn’t have argued with him for him to be apologising now.

“It’s okay,” you respond quietly, finding it too hard to find the words to say anything else.

“No, it’s not,” Jungkook sighs. “I shouldn’t have done that without asking you, especially since I made you do it in the first place. This whole thing was stupid, I shouldn’t have let it happen.”

“You didn’t make me do anything,” you mumble as his last words play over in your head – this whole thing was stupid. “It was Alex.” Does he really think it was stupid? It never felt stupid to you, it just felt right.

“Yeah, but it’s because of me it happened and I could've stopped it.”

“I didn’t mind…”

You feel lame saying it because the real reason you didn’t mind is because it was the closest you’d get to dating Jungkook, but you say it because you don’t want him to feel bad about any of it.

“I know,” he says softly in understanding. “I think it’s just best to tell everyone it wasn’t real.”

You haven’t experienced anything like this before – there’s a heavy feeling in your chest trying to fight its way out. It’s causing the lump in your throat and you can’t tell if you want to cry or just tell him the truth right here, right now.

But you don’t. “Okay,” is all you say.

He must hear something in your voice – he’s attuned to every frequency of yours and the emotion that comes with it, just as you are with him. You know how sad you sounded just then and undoubtedly he’s picked up on it.

He looks at you, trying to analyse your features in the dark. Then, his hand moves and you feel his palm closing around yours, pulling your hand between your bodies to rest on the bed with your fingers intertwined. “Again, I’m sorry.”

You’re looking at him too now. Have his hands always felt this warm? Have they always fit into your own so perfectly?

“I know, it’s okay,” you answer, still fighting that feeling in your chest.

His brows knit together. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

Gently, he squeezes your hand and his features relax.

That feeling in your throat pushes harder and you realise you want to tell him. Maybe it’s because it’s dark right now it seems easier to let the truth out, almost as though it’ll stay a secret in the dark.

“Also,” he says, voice suddenly softer, “for what it’s worth, I think Lawrence is an amazing guy.”

All other thoughts come to a halt in your mind and you swallow hard. “Why are you saying that?”

Jungkook looks back up at the ceiling and when he talks, it’s a little quieter than before. “Just, I know how you used to feel about him and if he feels this way about you now, well, it could be good for you,” he adds with a shrug.

You’re unable to mask the frustration in your voice. “I already told you,” you say, “I’m not interested in him.”

Jungkook looks at you again with his brows furrowed in concern. “I know…” he hesitates with a sigh, “I just…”

“Forget it,” you mutter, pulling your hand free from his. “I’m going to sleep.”

Jungkook says nothing as you roll over with your back to him, and you say nothing else either.

The feeling in your chest has subsided but it’s been replaced with another feeling, more like an ache which you’re determined to sleep away.

It feels almost impossible as your thoughts stream endlessly through your mind, each and every one about Jungkook and the words that you’ve left unsaid. But somehow, at some point, the thoughts slip away as the weariness of the day takes over and you finally fall asleep.

It’s hot.

Jungkook pushes you hard against the wall, his thigh parting your legs as he grabs your waist tight. His breaths are heavy as his nose skims your neck, teasing you before he settles in the sweet spot behind your ear.

You’re just about managing to hold yourself up though if it weren’t for his grip on you, you’re sure your knees would give way.

There’s barely any material separating you from his thigh and you’re desperate for some friction down there. With your arms around his neck, you rock yourself against him to find some much needed relief.

You’re moaning and Jungkook chuckles, a sweet deep sound that makes you want more, and he gives it to you as his hand slips between your legs.

Gosh it’s hot.

It is hot.

That’s the first thing that your barely conscious mind picks up on.

It’s the middle of summer–you don’t know why you can feel the weight of the blanket on you. You dimly remember getting under it when you got into bed but normally you always stick a leg out or something before going to sleep.

You try to move your leg now to push it past the covers and out into the cool air, but it doesn’t budge.

Something is in the way.

Still half asleep, you try again as you think it’s just the covers tucked under your leg — only now you realise that’s not the cover, it’s another leg and it’s not yours…

You didn’t realise something was missing when you were falling asleep a few hours ago. Why would you? You were completely preoccupied with other things to have remembered it.

It’s now that you come to your senses and realise what’s happened — you forgot the pillow.

You forgot the pillow as a physical boundary between Jungkook and you, and now the exact thing you wanted to avoid is happening.

Jungkook’s warmth surrounds you from everywhere. His breath is gentle and quiet by your neck, his chest close to your back and his legs are somehow tangled with yours. His arm is draped over your frame, hand resting comfortably by your stomach.

What’s most obvious to you though, is your ass tucked comfortably against him, no doubt right against his crotch.

Fuck. This is simultaneously a dream and a nightmare. It feels so good to be this close but you know it’s so wrong, especially after the actual dream you just had which given your situation now, explains why you’re still feeling so needy down south.

You try to shift slightly again but it doesn’t work — Jungkook sighs softly in his sleep, leg moving to rest on top of yours.

Great. Now you’re actually stuck like this.

Eyes closing, you try to think of what to do but as you run it through your mind, you come to the conclusion to stay exactly as you are.

How bad can it be? With the sun shining through the cracks in the blind, you can tell it’s probably 10 am so all you have to do is pretend to fall asleep again, Jungkook will wake up very soon, he’ll realise and then he’ll just move away. Then it’ll be as though nothing ever happened.

Besides, it really does feel so good to have him holding you like this. Sure, Jungkook hugs you a lot and in general is pretty affectionate with you but this. Having him softly breathing down your neck as he sleeps comfortably with you in his arms — it’s a feeling that satisfies something you never knew you needed.

The only problem is it’s more than a little difficult to fall asleep when you can feel the hard outline of his little friend down there. Fuck, life is really testing you right now and it really doesn’t help that your pyjama bottoms are silk so you can feel a lot more of him than expected.

Groaning internally, you try to scoot away once more but it doesn’t work. Not only that, you actually didn’t just groan internally but out loud. You almost clap your hand over your mouth when you feel Jungkook shift behind you once before going still again.

Except this time, you can’t feel his warm breath on you for a second… then it comes back, but this time it’s different. You’ve spent enough of your lifetime with Jungkook to know that he breathes heavily when he sleeps and right now, he’s no longer asleep.

You’re not quite sure what comes over you, maybe it’s the heat getting to your head, or maybe you’re emboldened by the fact that Jungkook is awake and he hasn’t moved away from you… ever so slightly, you push your hips back against Jungkook’s crotch.

A sharp intake of breath from behind you confirms exactly what you wanted to know.

You do it again and this time, Jungkook reciprocates in kind. You can feel him even better now and the hard outline of his dick pushing against you makes you let out the softest whine, barely audible but with Jungkook so close to you, there’s no doubt he heard you.

Fuck. You feel almost dizzy and you’re certain that you’re not thinking clearly right now – this is Jungkook, your best friend… you try to remind yourself of that as you wait for him to do something more, but the only thing that repeats in your head is this is Jungkook. Jungkook, the man you love and adore so much and right now you can only think enough to know that whatever is happening right now, you want it.

With bated breath, you wait for what feels like an eternity but is probably only a few seconds, then Jungkook’s hand slides from across your stomach to hold your hip.

“Y/N?”

His sleepy voice so close sends a swirl of excitement through you.

“Yes?” you answer in a breathy murmur.

“I…,” he whispers, barely audible. His hand slides up your side, stopping below your breast.

You can tell he’s hesitating to move further so without hesitation, you roll your hips against him which elicits small moans of pleasure from both of you and in response, Jungkook’s hand begins to move again and you’re anticipating the feeling of his strong hands grabbing on to you where you want them so bad–

Knock knock knock knock knock. “Sleepy heads, what time do you call this?!”

– Only to be interrupted by the one and only Alias.

Immediately, Jungkook withdraws and moves faster than you can even process. He’s out of bed and throwing on the closest hoodie just as you turn around, still catching on from whatever the hell just happened. Despite the dark lighting in the room, you can tell he’s flustered from the look on his face but goddamn he looks so cute with his messed hair and you could not be more annoyed about being interrupted right now.

He pauses, turning towards you and just as your eyes meet, there’s the loud knocking again followed by Alias yelling whatever it is he’s saying.

You’re more focused on how Jungkook is looking at you to comprehend anything else. In this split second, he looks like he has a thousand things to say but not a single thing comes out of his mouth except…

“I’m sorry.” He says it so fast that in the seconds it takes you to realise what he just said, he’s already at the door letting Alias in.

“You’re not even dressed,” Alias says the second the door opens and he sees Jungkook. “And you’re not even up,” he says as he sees you. Shaking his head, he walks over to the blinds, completely unaware of the tension that is still heavy in the room between Jungkook and you.

You glance at Jungkook again to see him looking at the floor but it’s as though he can sense your eyes on him because he looks up and your eyes meet for the second time. You’re sure your expression must mirror his – flustered, somewhat guilty, but mostly just confused.

You know why you’re confused – in the last few days you’ve come to the realisation that your feelings for your best friend are more than just platonic and this happening makes you wonder what the hell Jungkook is thinking… is he feeling the same way as you? God, you can only hope… Or is he repulsed by what he’s just done and is completely regretting it now?

“Honestly, Y/N, I’m actually surprised that I’m up before you,” Alias continues as he rolls up the blinds. “You’re usually the responsible one. And Jungkook, you know we were supposed to meet at nine, it’s almost 11 now and we’ll be arriving tomorrow morning and we were supposed to meet with Alex this morning to go through the plans for the weekend, did you forget—?“ Alias pauses mid sentence, turning to look at you with a frown.

For a second, you think he’s caught on to everything, but thankfully, it’s not that.

“Why do I sound like my parents?” He shudders, looking at Jungkook too. “I must be getting old.”

Both Jungkook and you laugh, albeit awkwardly. This, however, doesn’t go unnoticed by Alias. His frown changes to something more curious as he looks between you.

You expect him to say something about it but he doesn’t.

“Well, Jungkook, he’s still waiting to speak with you, he’s already briefed the other guys.”

“Right,” Jungkook nods, now avoiding your gaze as he grabs his clothes. “I’ll just get ready, I won’t be long.”

“Cool,” Alias says, taking a seat in the armchair by the window. “I’ll wait for you then.”

As soon as Jungkook has disappeared into the bathroom, Alias turns to you. “Did you tell him?” he asks immediately.

Still slightly befuddled, you frown. “Huh?”

“Last night, you said you weren’t gonna say anything about how you feel but why are you both acting so different?”

“Oh.” All of last night comes back to you in an instant. Lawrence confessing, your conversation with Alias and everything else that happened with Jungkook after. “No, I didn’t,” you pause, brows knitting even further together before you look at Alias. “But I think he might know anyway.”

Alias’s brows shoot upwards. “What makes you think that?”

Because he was just feeling me up in bed and if you hadn’t walked in it seemed like it would have gone further. Well, you absolutely can’t say that.

“I don’t know.”

Frowning, Alias moves to sit at the end of the bed. “Are you okay?” He reaches forward and puts a hand on your knee.

“Yeah,” you nood, smiling as you take his hand to reassure him. You’re sure you must look like a bit of a mess, not only have you just gotten up but your mind and pulse is racing from what just happened with Jungkook – whatever it was. “Could you just give us a minute though?”

“Sure,” Alias answers, getting up right away. “Just text me if you need anything,” he says. “I’ll be waiting on the deck for you guys.” He stops by the door, turning around. “But Alex is still waiting for Jungkook too.”

“We won’t be long,” you reassure him with a smile.

He nods once more before leaving the room.

You’re left with only the noise of your thoughts and the shower running in the bathroom. You can feel your pulse racing as you push the covers back and get out of bed. It still feels so hot in here so you find the AC controller and blast the cool air to help calm yourself down as you try to process what just happened.

What did just happen? Were you and Jungkook really about to do something? Just thinking of it sends butterflies swirling down south but they’re quickly sent off track when you ask yourself what on earth it means?

You know why you were okay with it all happening… if you didn’t have feelings for him, you would never have let it happen, but you do, so you didn’t stop it. Is it the same for Jungkook? The idea of Jungkook liking you is far from foreign – Alex has always been trying to tell you but you just never believed it… this, however, has you in two minds.

Or, there’s also the other more plausible reason. Jungkook woke up and realised his hard dick was enjoying the fact that there was another warm female body in such close vicinity to him so naturally, he made his move and you didn’t object so he went along with it. You’ve had your own small share of experiences with friends who you ended up doing more with without any feelings involved and so has Jungkook, maybe he just thought that’s what this was… God, even just the thought of that hurts.

The bathroom door clicks open and your head snaps up.

Jungkook walks out still scruffing his hair dry with a towel. He’s dressed casually for the day but he still looks as good as ever to you. He pauses after a few steps when he sees Alias has gone and slowly, he lowers the towel and looks at you.

You feel small because you’re so unsure of where you stand with him right now. Pressing your palms with your fingers, you try to relax and think clearly but it’s hard when your heart is pounding in your chest and wants nothing more than for him to confess he has the same feelings as you do.

Still, as you look at Jungkook, it seems like he feels small too. His fingers are squeezing the towel as he switches it between his hands and he hesitates, starting to say something before he stops.

You so badly want to say something, anything, but you have no idea what. How do you start? Can we talk about what just happened? Did you like it? Do you like me? Because I like you, a lot. Gosh, if only it was that damn easy.

“Um,” Jungkook starts but looks away from you. “I’m sorry about what happened…” He loosely points to the bed.

Startled, you just stand there for a moment. He’s sorry?… “You’re sorry?” you repeat.

“Yeah, I, uh, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“So, you weren’t thinking about what you were doing…?” you echo, starting to feel like a stupid parrot. He regrets it, of course he does.

Jungkook blinks, somewhat confused but you don’t blame him. You’re asking for clarification for selfish reasons – you need to know if he thinks what just happened was a mistake because it was far from a mistake for you.

“No…” Jungkook hesitates, his face rounding as he looks at you. You’re sure he can tell you’re upset by what he’s saying. “Were you?” he asks.

“No.” It’s not a lie – you really weren’t thinking about what was happening, just that you enjoyed it.

As soon as you say it, you’re sure you see Jungkook deflate. Did he want me to say yes? No, that doesn’t make sense, he said no first.

“Right, yeah.” He clears his throat as he fiddles with the towel again. “I’m sorry it happened, I wouldn’t ever want to make you feel uncomfortable.” He says it with such sincerity that your chest tightens.

“I didn’t feel uncomfortable.” The words come out before you can even stop them but you want him to know that, you’d hate for him to feel bad about something like this when it’s far from his fault that you let it happen just because you like him and wanted it to be something more.

Jungkook’s expression is the same as before, eyes rounding and there’s that barely-there pout to his lips as he asks, “You didn’t?”

“No, I didn’t.” Shit, what are you saying, Y/N? You can hear the blood rushing through your ears and you start to feel sick. “But… it wasn’t supposed to happen?” You mean for it to come out as a question but you have no clue if it did.

“I, no,” Jungkook clears his throat again and he nods. “It was just a mistake then, it won’t happen again.” Now he looks away from you completely as he goes and puts the towel into the laundry basket.

Suddenly, you feel yourself on the verge of breaking. How can he be so composed right now when you feel like you simultaneously want to shout at him to tell him how much he means to you, and cry endlessly because–does he really not feel anything for you?

“Alias is waiting for you upstairs,” you say, walking past him to go into the bathroom. “I’ll meet you later.”

You leave no time for him to respond but just before you close the door, you catch a glimpse of his confused doe eyes and just like that, your heart sinks again.

“Could it really be?” your dad pretends to rub his eyes, blinking a few times as his face morphs into a grin. “Our daughter is here to grace us with her presence, I don’t believe it.”

Your mom laughs, gently patting your hand as you sit down between them.

“Ha-ha, very funny dad,” you deadpan, throwing him a grumpy look.

“I’m only kidding, honey. I’m just glad you’ve decided to join us for lunch.”

“Of course,” you shrug. “I’ll even make your plates, what do you want?”

Your dad throws your mom a look. “Our princess is spoiling us today.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you head over to the buffet table to prepare two plates for your parents with everything you know they like. Just as you turn back to return to your table, you catch Jungkook watching you from across the balcony.

He’s on a table with Alex, Sophia and a few others. Meeting your gaze, he gives a small smile before looking away. Gosh you never knew a smile could hurt so much.

Ignoring the pang in your chest, you return to your parents and slump into the seat.

“Where’s yours?” your dad asks, already reaching for a sandwich.

“I’m not that hungry,” you mumble, taking a strawberry and biting into it.

Not so slyly, your parents exchange glances. They choose to say nothing for the moment, making small talk as they enjoy their lunch.

Once your dad is on his second cup of coffee, your mum takes your hand and squeezes gently. Looking up, you take comfort in the smile you see on her face. You know that both your parents are aware that there’s something on your mind – it’s why you’ve chosen to sit silently in their company while they have their own light hearted conversation. You also know that their advice is usually unparalleled to anyone else’s and right now, you could really do with some of their wise words.

“Is there anything you want to eat, honey?” your mom asks.

“The fruit is fine,” you answer quietly.

In response, your dad piles all the fruit into the plate in front of you while your mother gently continues probing.

“You’ve lost your appetite then… that usually happens for a reason, hm?”

You don’t say anything and she continues.

“Would it have anything to do with Jungkook?”

The rounded eyes you give your mom must give it away immediately as she lets out a small sigh.

“How could you tell?” you ask.

“He came down ten minutes before you,” your dad answers, “he normally always waits for you. Not to mention the funny look you gave each other just a little while ago.”

Sighing, you slump further into your seat. “We got into an argument last night,” you admit, feeling like a five year old again.

It seems so stupid to say out loud, especially because you don’t think you can bring yourself to reveal the real reason the argument feels as bad as it does – the reason being your feelings for him – but you don’t really care about feeling like a kid when it’s your parents. They’re the only people you can be this vulnerable with and at times like this, you want their comfort and company the most. You would love to tell them the whole story but there’s no way you’re telling them what just happened this morning so you go with everything else.

“It wouldn’t be the first,” your mom says, still holding your hand as she takes it into her lap.

“No, but this felt different…”

Your mom hums, gently playing with the bracelet on your wrist. Neither she nor your dad say anything, waiting for you to continue on your own.

Closing your eyes, you let out part of the truth. “Lawrence told me he likes me.”

Your mom’s fingers pause briefly before she continues twisting the charms between her fingers. Looking up, you catch your parents exchanging glances, most definitely surprised but they’re subtle about it.

“He told me last night and I made it clear it wouldn’t work… but I think it looked different to Jungkook and he just kept telling me I should give Lawrence a chance even though I told him I don’t want to.”

“That’s what you argued about?” your dad asks.

“Mhm.”

“Lawrence telling you that…” your dad pauses momentarily before continuing, “how did it make you feel?”

��It was weird,” you admit. “I used to have a big crush on him.”

“Oh, we know,” your mom says with a smile.

Despite it being in the past, it still feels so embarrassing — you were such a wide eyed 16 year old with a fat school crush that even your parents noticed.

“But I don’t now,” you mumble, cheeks warming as you keep your head lowered. “I told him that and I guess I felt kinda bad too. It’s been a while since we left school.”

Your father hums in agreement. “That’s a long time to like someone,” he says, head cocking as he looks at you knowingly.

“I know.”

Squeezing your hand, your mom takes over. “And what about Jungkook?”

“Well, when I told him, he was insisting I should give it a try.”

“That doesn’t seem like such a bad thing to suggest,” your dad shrugs. “I’d say the same thing, after all, you said it yourself that you liked him before and Lawrence is a good guy.”

“Yeah but I don’t now,” you reiterate. “I thought Jungkook would know that.”

“You’ve been single since you left college, Y/N, there’s absolutely no reason for him to think your heart is elsewhere…” he pauses, patting your leg, “unless you tell him.”

“Huh?” You look at your dad but he’s already looked away, a smirk on his face as he takes a sip of his coffee.

“I, what would I…?” you sputter, looking at your mom and seeing the smile on her face, you fall quiet.

So much for trying to keep this a secret — if your parents know then you wonder if anyone else knows. Although, of course no one else knows you as much as your parents and here they are telling you to tell Jungkook how you really feel but it’s still so nerve wracking to you.

There’s so many times you can think of that would make you think he likes you as much as you like him, but then there‘s also that voice of reason in your head that tells you you’re reading into it too much. Jungkook doesn’t like you romantically as much as you wish he would.

Chin lifting, you get up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say, “but thanks for the chat,” you smile, giving a quick kiss on the cheek to both of them.

“Darling, you’ll regret it if you don’t,” your dad says as you’re walking off.

“No idea what you mean,” you call out with an airy wave of your hand.

Walking across the length of the deck, you steal a glance in the direction of Jungkook only to see he’s no longer there. Looking around, you can’t see him anywhere. Resigned, you find an empty table that’s out of sight from everyone you know and slump into the chair to be alone with your thoughts.

No one knows you better than your parents, not even Jungkook and if they’re telling you to tell him then you can’t argue that there’s a big part of you that agrees and even wants to tell him. How would it feel to have Jungkook as yours? Sure, you have him more than anyone else right now — you share everything together, the good stuff, the bad stuff, and all the days in between…

It’s something you’ll forever be grateful for because if you can’t have all of Jungkook then you’ll take the little things whenever you can. Still though, you know it’s not the same when all you are to him is a best friend; his response to what happened this morning completely confirmed that to you. In some ways, it hurts more than anything else knowing that as his best friend, you’ll be there when he eventually does find someone to call his own and fuck, even just the thought of that hurts like a bitch.

Who knows if you’d even still be friends when that happens? It’s only natural that he and whoever he chooses would become closer than ever and you’ll just be that childhood friend considered to be like a sister…

“You’re moping.”

Turning around, you see Alex standing with his hands on his hips.

“And you’re interrupting,” you grumble, slumping back into the seat.

“Nope, come on, I’m not having this,” he says, coming right behind you and holding your head to look up at him. “The wedding is in three days and you are not going to spend it like this.”

“I’ll be fine for the wedding, I promise.”

Narrowing his eyes, Alex lets go and sits down next to you. “What about tomorrow?”

Tomorrow night is Thalia’s hen night and Alex’s stag night. The cruise will arrive at Porto Cheli around dawn tomorrow and most guests will be escorted to various villas rented out by the Cirillo’s. Meanwhile, you and a few close others, including Jungkook, will be arriving at the Cirillo family home. A grand estate which given its enormous size, will accommodate the tradition of keeping the bride and groom parties separate until the wedding on Saturday afternoon.

Thalia has never been much of a party-goer so she’s choosing to keep things simple with a fine dining evening although you’re sure Sophia has planned for strippers and booze to appear at some point during the night.

“I’ll be fine,” you repeat, plastering on a smile.

“I know you can fake it for everyone else but I actually want you to have a good time, Y/N,” he says, putting his arm around you.

Your smile turns into a genuine one. “I will, of course I will, it’s your wedding weekend and I’m so happy for you.”

Alex grins. “Thanks, I know you are.” He lets go and turns his chair to face you. “But I also know that you’re not talking to Jungkook right now, which means both of you will be moping until you make up.”

Of course he knows, you think. Well, he doesn’t know about this morning and you don’t know if you can bring yourself to tell him, it feels rather embarrassing for you. “Alias told you?”

“He told Sophia, she told Thalia and Thalia told me,” Alex shrugs.

It’s not like you expected it to stay a secret between your friends. Whenever Jungkook and you aren’t talking, it’s usually pretty obvious to everyone around you, especially your friends.

“Wanna talk about it?” Alex offers.

“Not really.” Talking to your parents was enough and you already know what Alex is going to say. “You probably think I should just be completely honest about how I feel, right?”

Alex shrugs again. “Yeah, although he should’ve been upfront about it first.”

Surprised, you look up at him and he continues.

“I know I've been telling you for ages that he’s whipped for you, but this kind of proves it, don’t you think?” Alex glances at you, eyes creasing in the corners as he hides a smug smirk. “There’s only one reason he reacted to Lawrence the way he did.”

It makes sense, but it also doesn’t – Jungkook purely could’ve been pushing you to be with Lawrence as a friend who just wants to see you happy. You’d hate to think it’s for the former reason, only to realise you’ve terribly misinterpreted the situation and end up stupidly admitting your feelings to Jungkook when he cares for you only as a friend. “It doesn’t really,” you say, trying harder to convince yourself than Alex. “I mean, he probably just didn’t want me to waste the opportunity.”

“Ha!” Alex scoffs. “Waste the opportunity.” He gives you a look. “Come on, Y/N, why are you fighting every reason that you have to try?”

“It’s not a reason,” you counter. “We’ve gotten into one argument and I don’t think me saying I have feelings for him will change anything–”

“So you do.”

“What?”

You look back at Alex and see his eyes wide and he’s not even hiding his smile anymore.

“You do like him,” he repeats.

“I, what…?” Suddenly, you realise you just said it out loud. Opening your mouth, you’re about to try to cover it up somehow but it’s too late.

“I knew it,” Alex laughs, seeming way too ecstatic considering how shit you feel. “This is gold, Y/N, this is it, I’ve always known Jungkook liked you but you liking him too, it’s perfect!”

“Shh,” you hush him suddenly, grabbing his hands as you look around in a panic. “Alex shut up, someone’s gonna hear you.”

“The whole world should know, Y/N,” he laughs happily again. Looking at you, he cups your face in his hands. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long, you need to tell him, Y/N, please!”

The thought of telling Jungkook is terrifying to you, even more so now that Alex is saying it out loud and someone could possibly hear.

With your expression split between worry and confusion, Alex’s smile fades a little but not completely. “Y/N, this is good, what’s wrong?”

For the first time, you let yourself say the truth out loud. “What if he doesn’t feel the same way?”

Alex sighs, his smile softening. “There’s only one way you’ll find out.

Now it’s you who scoffs, pulling away from him. “Yeah, right.”

“I am right,” he insists.

Sighing, you look at him. It’s so hard to hear Alex tell you that Jungkook likes you when youc an only think otherwise after this morning… “Something happened,” you start, watching Alex carefully.

For a second he still smiles but when he sees the worry lining your face, his expression mirrors yours as his smile fades. “Okay… you wanna talk about it?”

You quickly glance around to make sure no one can hear. “You promise you won’t tell anyone,” you say, “not even Alias or Sophia or Tha–” you cut yourself off. Asking Alex not to tell his soon to be wife is like asking him to cut off his hand, you already know that since he couldn’t even keep Sophia’s birthday present to her secret. “Fine, only Thalia.”

“Appreciate it,” Alex nods.

“Mhm, well…” You tell him briefly what happened this morning, sparing him the details but telling him every word of what was spoken after and he listens carefully, not interrupting you once.

You chose to tell Alex because he’s the one who has always been so sure of Jungkook’s feelings for you, not Alias, nor Sophia, or even Thalia. Sure, the others have hinted at it but only Alex has ever paid attention to everything between Jungkook and you so if anyone knows the whole story and can give you the best advice, it’s him. So, it feels a little alarming to you when once you’re done, he still doesn’t say anything for a moment.

Then, he purses his lips, grimacing before he finally speaks. “Honestly, that’s a bit confusing. If there ever was a way to confess, this was the perfect window to do it.”

For what feels like the umpteenth time today, your heart sinks. “That’s what I thought.”

“But,” Alex says very surely, taking your hand, “it doesn’t change every single other thing he’s ever done to show he likes you, and let’s be real, he’s probably just worried that you won’t feel the same.”

It’s what you want to hear but it’s still so hard to accept it because what if it’s not true and you make a fool of yourself in front of Jungkook.

“I wish that were true,” you mumble. “But I don’t think I can keep holding onto hope when it hurts like this.”

Alex squeezes your hand. “Y/N, we know Jungkook, he doesn’t exactly play with anyone’s feelings and I absolutely don’t think he would start something physical with you unless he was feeling it emotionally too.”

“I know, but what if it’s just because he was horny.” You’re still mumbling, cheeks going warm as you say it.

“Look, I think there’s a lot of guys who would sleep with their best friends if they had the chance,” Alex says, “but Jungkook isn’t one of them, he never has been.”

Thinking about it, you realise he’s right. Jungkook wouldn’t. There’s been way more chances in the past for him to have done things with you and you’re pretty sure there’s even been times where you drunkenly made a few moves on him but he never did anything himself.

“Still, I don’t know.”

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Alex says encouragingly, “how long have I been telling you he likes you? I haven’t been saying it for no reason.”

“But you have no concrete proof either.”

“Just take a chance, be brave and then you’ll see I was right,” Alex says, raising a brow.

Glancing at him, you chuckle. “This is coming from the guy who had to get drunk to say I love you to the love of his life for the first time.”

Alex smiles and leans back in his seat as he gestures around him. “It worked didn’t it? Look at me now.”

Well, he got you there. Plus, you can’t deny the big part of you that believes it. Jungkook and your friendship does feel more than friends sometimes and you know it’s not all in your head. This morning seemed to confirm that too.

Narrowing your eyes at Alex, you turn away to face the horizon. “Don’t say anything to anyone, but I’ll think about it.”

“Yes,” Alex laughs, hugging you. “I’ll keep my mouth shut,” he says, sounding so excited. “You won’t regret this.”

Laughing, you pull him into your side. “You could start now, half the deck can hear you.”

“Sorry,” he grins, squeezing you.

Maybe he’s right, maybe you won’t regret it.

Jungkook comes to a stop at the end of the balcony to watch the sun set behind the sea. It’s been a long day with Alex asking his groomsmen to assist him in all things wedding related and then Alias needed help sorting out the entertainment for tomorrow.

Jungkook hasn’t seen you since lunch. He went back to the cabin while you had lunch with your parents since he didn’t want to make it awkward for you when you eventually came up to finish packing and since then he hasn’t seen you as you’ve been with the girls all day.

Truthfully, after this morning, he doesn’t think he can bear to see you just yet. He feels like a coward. Not only has he probably ruined his friendship with you, but he also can’t help but feel like he’s hurt you. You looked so timid as you stood across the cabin from him and a part of him felt like you wanted him to say something other than what he said. If only he was 100% sure it’s what you wanted, Jungkoook would shout it for the whole world to hear, but what if it’s not and he really does ruin everything between you. Besides, you called it a mistake. That’s all Jungkook can remind himself of as it takes everything in him not to tell you he wishes that there was something more between you.

“Why the long face, Kookie?”

The voice comes from behind him but Jungkook doesn’t have to be looking to know who it is.

Valentina appears beside him and leans on the balcony too. She doesn’t even look at him but just watches the horizon ahead as Jungkook was. “Trouble in paradise, huh?”

Jungkook frowns. Of course that’s the first thing she would think of. “Not really,” he mutters.

As much as he wishes it was paradise between you and him, it wasn’t, none of it was real

and what he finds worse is that he couldn’t even keep up a fake relationship with you – he completely blew it.

“So what then? They didn’t have your favourite bagel for breakfast this morning?” She laughs lightly.

However, Jungkook internally scowls. It’s annoying that she actually knows him rather well despite the finer details of their ‘relationship’. “No offence, Val, but I really just wanna be alone right now.”

There’s harsher things he could’ve said, particularly naming her as the least desirable companion right now, but even without that, Valentina seems to get the message from his tone alone.

The humour in her expression disappears leaving only a small poignant smile.

Not expecting such a quick retreat from her, Jungkook immediately regrets his harsh tone but at the same time, he really is not in the mood for Valentina and her usual antics today.

She doesn’t move an inch though. With a small sigh she turns and faces the horizon just as Jungkook was.

Jungkook does the same; although he’d rather be left alone, he’s definitely not about to make it known again, especially since he now feels a bit bad.

“It’s always been her, hasn’t it?”

For a moment, Jungkook is completely thrown. Multiple thoughts run through his head – What? Valentina knows? How long has she known? Was it from when he was with her? Was he really always in love with you even while he was seeing other people? That must make him a complete dick, right? Has he always made it so painfully obvious that he’s in love with you?

His hesitation seems to give Valentina the answer she was looking for.

She glances at him and smiles before looking away again. “I’m not surprised really, I knew it from when I first met you, I guess it’s my fault for putting us both through everything we went through, it was damned from the start.”

“That’s not your fault,” Jungkook says, the guilt festering.

Valentina just shrugs. “It’s over now, no reason to care.” She says it meaninglessly but Jungkook can only hope she means it.

“So why the long face then?” she repeats, looking at him. “She’s yours, go be with her.”

“It’s not that simple.”

Valentina laughs, bumping her shoulder into him. “Yeah, you’re right. Pretending to date someone you’re secretly in love with is never simple.”

For the second time, Jungkook looks at her stunned. “How did you…?”

She shrugs, still sporting an amused smile. “I know you think I’m stupid, Jungkook, just a head in the clouds rich bitch like everyone else does, but I’ve gotten this far, haven’t I?”

“That’s not true,” Jungkook corrects her immediately. Sure, Valentina has her unbearable moments and more often than not, she plays dumb and innocent, but Jungkook knows that she’s more than that. “I wouldn’t have dated you if I thought that.”

“Don’t worry, Kookie, you don’t have to try to make me feel better, I really couldn’t care less about it. Now, back to the main issue here, you need to grow a pair and tell Y/N how you feel about her,” she says bluntly.

She’s not wrong, Jungkook thinks. “It’s just not that simple,” he sighs, turning away from her. It feels odd to be having this conversation with Valentina and despite her honesty just now, he doesn’t really feel like opening up to her.

“What’s complicated about it? You like her and she likes you.”

“We don’t know that.”

“You honestly think she doesn’t like you?” she asks, sounding surprised.

Hesitating, Jungkook eventually shrugs. “Sometimes I think so…” It’s true, sometimes Jungkook really feels so sure that you feel the same way, but then something always happens that changes things. He thinks of Lawrence – you liked him for so long and although Jungkook doesn’t know the extent of it, you always had this schoolgirl crush on him, even whilst you were with Alex. “But I don’t think she does.”

Valentina looks at Jungkook like he’s stupid and he’s vaguely reminded of why they never worked out. “Well, you can keep thinking that but it’s kind of obvious she does.”

Saying nothing, Jungkook looks out at the horizon again, leaning his forearms into the balcony. The sun is almost fully set marking the last day of the cruise. They’ll soon be arriving at Porto Cheli and it’ll be even harder to spend time with you once the bride and groom parties are separated. He wants to talk to you and to make things okay between you again, but he knows that he’s upset you and although it’s confusing him, he wants to give you space.

Valentina sighs, nudging him. “Just talk to her, you don’t want to regret it later on,” she says, straightening up as her usual flamboyance returns. “You know if it doesn’t work out, I’ll always be here for you Kookie pie,” she almost coos, making Jungkook laugh and cringe at the same time. As ditzy as she may act sometimes, Valentina is more smart than Jungkook ever gave her credit for.

She grins, winking at him before she waltzes off like the conversation never happened.

The cabin is dark when you finally return to your room. It’s well past midnight and you expect Jungkook to be here but as your eyes quickly adjust, you can see the room is empty. As you walk in further, you see his suitcase standing packed and ready in the corner of the room.

Deflating, you trudge over to your own open suitcase on one side of the room. You’re only half packed and you’d hoped Jungkook would still have his to do too so you’d have a chance to maybe talk to him, but it seems he’s already done it while you were busy with the girls. You wonder if he avoided you on purpose.

Pushing this thought quickly out of your head, you press shuffle on your ‘summer ‘23’ playlist in an attempt to cheer yourself up while you finish packing. It doesn’t really work but you at least keep your mind free from running rampant, instead singing along to some of your favourite tunes with no regards for your cabin neighbours, one of whom is Valentina and you’re more than certain she’s not in her cabin because you last saw her walking out of the premium lounge with a tall, handsome stranger whose face you couldn’t see and they went into an elevator going to the cabins on the other side of the ship, barely waiting to let the door close before locking lips.

Must be nice, you think sourly before shaking your head. Not cute, Y/N, you scold yourself. Although you don’t blame yourself for having negative thoughts since you are on the short end of an unrequited love story with your best friend, you’d still rather not be bitter.

Almost three hours later, you’ve packed everything, showered and are already dressed ready for the arrival at Porto Cheli soon. You’ve chosen a simple outfit, a sky blue linen co-ord with jewellery to match. Slipping into the comfiest sandals you own, you move your suitcase next to the door and grab your phone before heading out of the room. It’s almost 5am so there’s around an hour left until the ship docks at the port, marking the end of the cruise and the start of the busy wedding weekend. Most of you took a nap during the day, so deciding you wouldn’t sleep tonight, they all agreed to meet one last time on the cruise.

Despite everything that’s happened with Jungkook and the dampener it’s put on your mood, you’re still excited to celebrate Alex’s wedding. Not only is he dear to you, but you’re celebrating his marriage with so many of the people you love the most, making this whole trip special. It would be perfect if you could end it by fixing what’s happened with Jungkook but you feel like you’ve already made yourself so vulnerable to him and nothing came out of it.

It’s quiet and dark in the hallways as you make your way out to the pool on the top deck. It reminds you of the nights you were sneaking out with Jungkook to meet the other guys for whatever stupid stuff you were getting up to. It makes you miss him now and you subconsciously walk a little faster in anticipation of seeing him now as you all gather for the last time.

You can hear your friends before you see them and you smile at the sound of Alias’ laughter as you climb the steps to the deck. You’re certain any patrolling staff would have heard and they’re either being nice enough to let you all off, or Alias tipped them enough to keep quiet.

There’s a bunch of familiar faces hanging around all together, all friends of either Alex, Thalia, Sophia or Alias. You smile at a few as you make your way over to Sophia, Thalia and a few others.

The girls greet you warmly as you approach and Sophia hands you a drink as soon as you arrive. You take it and immediately take a sip. You weren’t planning on having anything to drink but one won’t hurt. There’s an excited buzz in the air, the same you felt on the first day of cruise but this feels special. The sun is rising on the horizon and you’re here with almost all of your best friends. Almost all of your best friends. Jungkook still isn’t here but you try not to focus on it and just have a good time with your friends.

It works, so much so that you’re mid laughter when a familiar face joins the deck and makes their way over to you, but you don’t quite realise until he pats your shoulder as the conversation progresses.

Turning around, your smile falters but doesn’t disappear. “Oh, hey.”

“Hey.” Lawrence looks nervous, an emotion you’re not used to seeing on him.

You also weren’t actually expecting to see him but you’re glad he’s here. Throughout everything, he’s still a friend and you’d hate to lose that relationship with him.

“How are you?” You ask, smile widening. You haven’t seen him since that night and you’d hate to think he’s been avoiding you when it’s the last thing you’d want.

“Good, thanks,” he nods. He seems to suddenly relax at your warm response. He glances at the group behind you and you turn too. No one is paying either of you any attention but Lawrence still asks for privacy. “Do you think we could talk?” he asks tentatively. “I’ll make it quick, I promise.”

“Of course,” you nod, following him as he turns right away and walks to the furthest side of the deck where it’s quietest.

You stop when he does, taking a seat on the bench beside him. It’s easy to see he’s nervous as he glances around quickly before looking down at the drink in his hand. You want to say something to make him feel better but you don’t want to interrupt whatever it is he wants to say.

“How have you, uh, how have you been?” He looks up, holding eye contact for barely a second before looking away again.

“Good,” you answer. It’s not the truth but he doesn’t need to know that.

He nods and takes a sip of his drink. You do the same and you’ve just swallowed when he speaks again.

“I‘m sorry for pulling you away from your friends, I just wanted to talk to you tonight before all the wedding stuff starts and I didn’t know if I’d get a chance.”

“That’s okay, I don’t mind.” You lean in a little so he looks at you and smile. “You’re my friend too though,” you say, feeling the need to remind him.

His smile mirrors yours and he nods. “I kinda messed it up though…”

You know this is of course what he wanted to talk to you about and although you don’t think it needs to change anything between you, you know yourself how easily feelings can change a friendship. Not only that, but he deserves an explanation from you too since you did have feelings for him for a good chunk of your teen years and later, plus your conversation ended before it was supposed to that night when Alias and Jungkook appeared.

“Not really,” you shrug. “I think it’s just how we deal with it now, no?”

“Yeah, if you’re okay with that,” he agrees. “I’d like to.”

“Of course I am. And I’m sorry too by the way.”

Lawrence looks confused and you don’t wait for him to say anything before continuing.

“I think it must have been confusing for you to be on the receiving end of my feelings for you while we were in college and maybe I even subconsciously made it seem like it after too.”

“Ah,” Lawrence purses his lips. “Well I didn’t really know.”

“I know, you said that before but I still feel like I need to say it. There may have been a few times I was coming off as more than friendly and that was wrong of me.”

Lawrence’s silence serves as an answer.

“So yeah, I’m sorry too. I hope we can go back to how things were,” you say hesitantly.

“It might be hard,” Lawrence responds honestly.

“I know…” your voice feels small. You know all too well how feelings can change a friendship. “But we’ll try?” You look at him and smile hopefully.

He nods. “Of course.”

You’re content with that. Of course you don’t know the extent of his feelings for you so you hope it won’t be hard for him to move on – after all, the two of you mostly ever met up at family functions and dinners of the same sort. It’s rare for Lawrence to have joined any of the outings with your friends. It was never his fault since his parents have always pushed for him to do more for their company, especially since he was an only child. It’s something that’s always made you more grateful for your own parents and their completely laid back and caring approach to your career, even all throughout school. The only thing they ever pushed for was your grades but they kept up that same effort in all areas of your life, even your extracurriculars. Sure, sometimes when you were growing up you felt the pressure but you always felt supported by them no matter what the final result was.

Lawrence has experienced the opposite of you to say it simply, and you’re sure that given time, he’ll find the right person for him as he prioritises himself.

“Thanks for talking to me though,” you say, “I’m glad you did.”

“Me too,” Lawrence says, taking another sip. “At least now I don’t have to avoid you all weekend long.”

You laugh, agreeing with him and soon enough, the conversation continues although it doesn’t last longer than ten minutes with Lawrence excusing himself.

You stay seated at the bench as he leaves. You didn’t realise you were concerned about your relationship with Lawrence but the relief and content you’re feeling now tells you as much. You’re glad you’ve cleared everything up with him, now if only you could get yourself to do the same with Jungkook.

Glancing around, you realise that he still hasn’t appeared. He definitely would have known about it so you wonder why he hasn’t turned up. Finishing your drink, you get up and head over to where Alias is sitting with his friends Kelce and Dillon.

“Hey, Y/N,” they all say in unison when you come and sit beside them at the pool. They’re definitely a little tipsy and you don’t need to see the cans beside them to know that. Their goofy smiles say it all.

“Hey guys,” you chuckle, patting Kelce’s shoulder. “Um, have you guys seen Jungkook anywhere?”

Alias immediately frowns but it’s Dillon who answers. “We were with him a while ago at the lounge.” He looks at the other guys. “When was that? A couple of hours ago?”

Kelce looks at his phone. “Yeah, it was around one.”

You went past the lounge at the same time, that’s when you saw Valentina leaving with that guy… for a split second, your mind goes there – could it have been him? – No. Absolutely no. The idea is absurd. You feel stupid for even thinking that.

“You haven’t seen him since then, Y/N?” Alias asks.

“No.” You ignore the seed of concern that settles in your stomach. You’re certain he’s not with Valentina, but where is he?

“We were gonna leave the lounge together but he stayed for another drink,” Alias tells you, seeming to share the same concern as you. “He seemed like he wanted to be alone so we left him.”

“Oh.” It’s not like Jungkook to drink alone – if he does, he’s usually upset about something. “Well, thanks for telling me,” you mutter, getting up and leaving the group.

Alias, however, gets up with you. “Hey,” he says, taking your arm. “You want me to find him?” He looks you over and you’re sure the concern in his expression isn’t solely for Jungkook.

“Um…” you hesitate. You don’t want to seem like a clingy best friend, especially not after what happened between you, but if Jungkook is drinking alone then he’s not feeling okay and you would normally be there for him. This time you feel like you can’t be, but Alias can. However, you don’t want to ask Alias to spend his night away from his friends and family.

Looking at him, you smile. “No, it’s okay. I’m sure he’s around somewhere.”

Alias doesn’t seem convinced. “But then he would be here.”

He’s right. “Or maybe he was tired and went back to the cabin?”

“You just said you haven’t seen him since we did.”

Chewing on the inside of your lip, you shake your head. “I haven’t.”

Sighing, Alias pulls out his phone. “I’ll try calling him but if he doesn’t get back to me in ten minutes we’ll go look for him.”

“Okay,” you nod. “Let me know if he replies,” you say, thanking him too before going back to some of the girls.

You’re not listening much to their conversation although you try to get involved to take your mind off of Jungkook.

It isn’t until you receive a text from Alias with a screenshot that your nerves are put to rest.

[3:01] Me: hey man where r u?

[3:13] JK: hey sorry bro, I knocked out on the balcony.

[3:13] Me: oh okay, it’s all good just wanted to know where u were. Join us now? We’re at the top pool deck.

[3.15] JK: I’m just gonna check all my luggage is packed first. Will join later.

[3:15] Me: cool see u.

So he’s fine, he just fell asleep. You still want to see him but you know that’s not going to happen unless you go down to the cabin room and you don’t want to seem clingy so you don’t. Instead, you turn your attention back to the conversation the girls are having and feel the excitement for the weekend to come.

Jungkook doesn’t get drunk often and he had no plans of doing so the last night of the cruise either, and he most definitely did not expect to get drunk with your father of all people…

“You coming Jungkook?”

Looking up from his drink, Jungkook shook his head. “Nah, I’m just gonna hang here for a bit,” he said with a smile so as not to raise suspicions from the already watchful eye of Alias.

Still, Alias frowned. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I still got a headache.”

“Alright, well text me if you need anything,” Alias said as he, Kelce and Dillon got up.

“Get well soon,” Kelce said as they took their leave.

“Join us later, yeah?” Dillon added.

“Yeah,” Jungkook nodded. “I’ll catch you guys later.”

He watched as they walked out, trying to find the same excitement in him for the wedding as they’re feeling but his head was full of other thoughts.

Sighing, he looked down at this drink again. It’s true that he had a headache. He even chose not to have anything alcoholic, opting for a mocktail from the extensive drinks menu available at the lounge. He’s not sure where it came from but he thought it’s most likely just because he couldn’t stop his brain from thinking and the lack of sleep didn’t help either.

Truthfully, he knew he was just moping. He knew what he had to do and he knew it before his conversation with Valentina. Although, the fact that she said it too just made Jungkook more aware of the truth.

The line between friendship and something more had always been blurry for Jungkook and the past few days only made him more sure of it — he’s in love with you and he always has been for as long as he can remember.

Every time the thought crossed Jungkook’s mind, it triggered the questions that come with it. How do I tell her? Does she feel the same way? She’ll hate me. What if she hates me? I shouldn’t do that to her? What’s worse, is that now it had come to the point that being with you was almost painful – not knowing if he could have more with you when all he had to do was confront his feelings, swallow his pride and be honest with you. Even if you didn’t feel the same, it was the point at which he realised he would rather you hate him for admitting his feelings and ruining your friendship, than stay quiet and never know if he can have what he’s always wanted with you.

That said, it still felt so hard to do – he had a lot to lose.

Head lowered, Jungkook tried to figure out the best way to do this when he heard a familiar laugh somewhere behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Valentina walking with a tall, handsome man beside her. Jungkook had seen him around a few times but he wasn’t sure if he was a part of the wedding party. Whoever he was, he sure knew how to make Valentina laugh; she was laughing as he put his arm around her and she raised her hand to hold his fingers loosely when she looked towards the bar. Making eye contact with Jungkook, she stopped and tilted her head.

Jungkook just smiled awkwardly and turned back around. He didn’t want to seem like he was staring even though that was what he was doing but for no bad reason – he liked to see Valentina happy. Despite her shortcomings, deep down she always had good intentions for the most part and making her happy was something Jungkook couldn’t do. However, he would’ve been lying if he said seeing her like that didn’t hurt – not because he was jealous of her, but because everyone around him seemed to be having such good luck in their love lives (whether there’s feelings attached or not) and here he was, unable to find the words to tell his best friend he loves her. It sucked.

“And what are you doing here, may I ask?”

Hearing Valentina’s voice so close to him all of a sudden startled Jungkook. He looked up, eyes wide. She stood with one hand on the bar and the other on her hip.

“Uh, just getting a drink.”

Valentina rolled her eyes. “I spoke to you less than 12 hours ago, Jungkook, do you not remember anything?”

“I do,” he replied, glancing across at her date who seemed super unbothered as he waited for her a short distance away.

“Then why are you here?”

“I just needed to think some things over.”

“Like what?”

“Just things,” Jungkook said, feeling somewhat intimidated by how serious she was right now.

“You know you’re just wasting time,” she said matter-of-factly.

“She’s with everyone else right now, I don’t want to ruin her evening,” Jungkook says defensively.

“I really don’t think anything you say or do could ruin her evening.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Well, yeah but you’re not doing anything about it so how is that any better?”

She wasn’t wrong but Jungkook was convinced he needed to give you time. “I’m just not ready yet,” he sighed.

Valentina sighed too. “Fine,” she shrugged and turned back towards her date. “But you don’t need to think, Jungkook, you just need to do what needs to be done,” she added with a wave of her hand.

He knew she was right but why did it feel so hard?!

Getting the attention of the bartender, he ordered a much needed drink, downing it all almost as soon as it came before ordering a second. At least he wasn’t a light weight. He knew this wouldn’t help his headache but it wasn’t like he was helping himself at all by sitting here and thinking endlessly. Endless thoughts of what could go right and wrong trailed through his mind, leaving him conflicted as he accepted that he wouldn’t disturb your night with this.

Halfway through his drink, someone came and took a seat at the stool beside him despite there being space elsewhere. Looking across, he was more than surprised to see the last person he would’ve expected to see here.

Lawrence only acknowledged Jungkook with a nod before ordering his own drink.

A multitude of emotions went through Jungkook at this particular moment starting with wanting to punch Lawrence in his perfect face, to feeling sorry for himself for being forced into this situation, then feeling sorry for Lawrence because he knew that he got the short end of the stick – at least Jungkook still has a strong friendship with you — and oddly, gratefulness because Jungkook knows what he needs to do now and without Lawrence, he wouldn’t have been forced into it and who knows how long he would’ve gone without telling you the truth (though he had yet to do it).

Saying nothing himself, Jungkook took another sip of his drink.

Lawrence, however, started a conversation. “You not joining the others?”

“Nah,” Jungkook answered quietly. He gave no reason but he didn’t need to.

Lawrence nodded in understanding but said nothing else. His drink arrived and he stayed seated, sipping quietly beside Jungkook.

Jungkook really didn’t care for conversation. He came to the bar for some peace and quiet so initiating a conversation is the last thing he wanted to do.

With all that said, Jungkook’s curiosity got the better of him.

“What about you?” He asked without even turning his head. “You’re not gonna head up there?”

Lawrence shook his head. “I’ll head up a bit later”

Jungkook nodded, wondering if Lawrence would see you while he was there. He could ask him but that would open the doors to another conversation which he didn’t really want to have.

Lawrence didn’t owe him any apology since you’re not really his girlfriend. He did seem to cross a line considering he didn’t know that at the time, but there was no reason for him to say it now.

Just when Jungkook took another sip of his drink, Lawrence put his glass down and looked toward Jungkook, sincerely.

“Hey, man, I’m really sorry for what I did.”

Although he harboured some slight resentment towards Lawrence for what happened, it immediately seemed to melt away in that moment. Their friendship extended well beyond the past few days and Jungkook has never been the type to hold a grudge, especially not when the other person is genuine.

“It’s cool,” he responded. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I did.”

Jungkook only had to glance at Lawrence to see he looked guilty and felt bad about it. “I was selfish and I wanted to tell Y/N how I felt. I guess there was a part of me that wished she wasn’t with you and that was completely fucked up.”

“She’s not with me though.”

It came out slightly harsher than intended, carrying the weight of Jungkook’s own feelings. Lawrence went quiet and Jungkook continued, resigned.

“Honestly I’d say you’ve got a pretty good shot with her, I’d go for it if I were you.”

“Why don’t you?” Lawnrence asked simply, without any curiosity or even peaked interest. His voice held more of a genuine want to help.

“What?”

“Why don’t you just go for it?”

Jungkook shook his head. “We’re just friends.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple.”

“No offence Lawrence, but how would you know?”… Now that did come out slightly harsher than intended. “The last time you even saw us was probably at Sophia’s graduation and even then you were gonna way before the night ended.”

Completely understanding, Lawrence backed up. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” Jungkook cooled off. “I’m sorry too. That came out wrong.”

“It’s alright.” Lawrence sat back in his chair, swirled his drink before taking three long sips to empty the glass.

“It doesn’t change anything though,” he said, getting up from his stool. “There’s a point at which you can pass friendship and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with treading beyond that line.” He put a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “Just do it carefully.”

Jungkook stared at Lawrence but Lawrence didn’t linger.

“Anyway, like I said, I’m sorry for everything.”

Jungkook watched as he walked away, the words swimming in his befuddled mind.

Lawrence was right. There was a line and Jungkook knew he was straddling that fine line and perhaps now it was too late to step back. Instead, he should be brave and put everything out on that line. It was easy enough to think with liquid courage flowing through him, that and the fact that you weren’t here right now. But maybe he should have taken advantage of the fact that he was feeling more confident now, he should find you, he found himself thinking. He should tell you he’s in love with you and then whatever happens next will happen. He can’t control that and right now there’s already a strain on the relationship that can only be fixed by the truth.

He should do it, he thought. The thought built up more and more, ushering Jungkook as he pushed himself off the bar stool—

“Where you going, son? I just got here.”

A firm band on Jungkook’s shoulder pushed him back down, contrasting the loving tone with which he was spoken to.

Your dad took the seat which was previously occupied by Lawrence and Jungkook could only stare for a moment as he called the bartender and ordered two drinks. If it was anyone else, Jungkook would’ve apologised and excused himself to carry out his plan of finding you, but with your dad it was simply not the case.

“You like a gin and tonic right?” He asked, after ordering.

Jungkook wasn’t particularly fond of it but he nodded. “Yeah, thanks. “

“How come you’re not with the others?”

Jungkook shrugged, hoping that your dad wouldn’t be able to tell he’d already had a couple to drink. “I just wasn’t feeling it.”

“And Y/N?”

Despite being the only thing on his mind for a while, the mention of you still threw him. “Huh?”

“Is she with the others?” Your dad asked coolly, reaching for some peanuts from the bowl in front of them.

“Yeah, I think so,” Jungkook answered as nonchalantly as he could.

The bartender arrived with their drinks and your dad took his and sipped slowly in silence.

Jungkoon was not uncomfortable around your dad, not in the slightest. In fact, he seemed to have grown rather close to him over the years and appreciated the almost father-son bond they shared. Having spent much time with your family, there wasn’t much he had yet to experience when it came to your dad, but this was something different. He’d never been sat at a bar, just the two of them making small talk over drinks.

Jungkook knew your dad well enough to know that that wasn’t the purpose of this. Your dad is just breaking the ice to another conversation… but what? Surely it had to be about you and that was the only reason Jungkook found his palms unusually sweaty.

After what must’ve been at least twenty more minutes of small talk about the weather and football, Jungkook had emptied his second glass.

Your dad laughed. “I forgot you can take your liquor, huh?”

Before Jungkook could even respond, another drink had been ordered for him and Jungkook willed himself to drink this one slower, wary that he was already more than a few drinks in now though he was grateful that your dad was good at keeping up

“So, what’s the real reason you’re not with the others?” Your dad asked, his own drink replaced with another as well.

Jungkook shrugged and answered honestly. “Just not in the mood to socialise. I think I’d be a bit of a Debby downer so I’d rather sit this one out.”

“That’s selfless of you.”

“Not really, kind of selfish actually.”

Your dad nodded. “A bit of both then.”

Much to Jungkook’s surprise, your dad emptied his glass faster than Jungkook had and didn’t hesitate to order another.

“Anything else for you?” he asked Jungkook.

“Uh, sure.” Jungkook wasn’t sure why he said yes but he did, ordering a whiskey instead.

Your dad pulled his phone out and sighed, muttering an apology about a work issue and Jungkook nodded, not minding in the slightest. But the issue must have been resolved quickly because he put the phone away only moments later.

“It almost feels wrong to be drinking with you,” your dad said.

“Why?” Jungkook asked, taking the smallest sip from his glass. “Because I’m younger than you?”

“Partly. I’ve known you since you were so young, it’s hard to believe how much you’ve grown up.” Your dad smiled. “Y/N too.”

Jungkook smiled. “It has been a long time.” He thought back to the first day he first met your dad and you. He was a shy kid, hiding behind his mom and at the time, you were pretty shy at the time too. It was your mom who encouraged you to ask Jungkook if he wanted to read a book with you. He looked at his own mom for reassurance before shyly agreeing and following you to the reading corner in your playroom. By the end of the night your affinity for him had grown and that was the simple start to your long friendship with more ups and downs than Jungkook could count.

“But at the same time it feels like nothing.”

Your dad raised his glass. “Exactly,” he said, with an agreeing nod of his head. “A lifetime and nothing, both at once. I sometimes wish I could go back.”

“To when we were young?”

“Further back if I could,” he smiled. “Maybe a few years before Y/N was born. Just before I got married.”

“Why then? Jungkook asked, curious. He’d known your dad for so many years and they’d had plenty of conversations about serious stuff and more light hearted stuff, but this was different. He’d not spoken much about his relationship witn your mother, especially not when partially intoxicated. And while Jungkook had seen plenty of the love they shared, he’d not heard much about it except from you.

“When I first met Y/N’s mother—gosh,” he sighed contentedly as though reliving the moment. “She was like no one else I’d ever met. She still is,” he added with a gentle chuckle. “There’s no one else I’d rather spend my days with. I’d give everything I have to be with her. Every minute of every hour, always.”

The smile on your dads face grew, as did Jungkook’s.

“We were young when we got married, you know?”

Jungkook nodded. “I know. 24 right?”

He nodded, the corners of his lips turning up further into a proud smile. “I didn’t want to waste another day without the promise of having her by my side. My friends said I was mad, too young.”

Jungkook shakes his head, knowing how it felt to not want to be apart from someone he loved so dearly. “I don’t think you were mad at all. You were in love.”

Your dad turned, now masking the smile that was on his face as he looked at Jungkook with a mischievous glint in his eye that Jungkook hadn’t seen before. “You know it when you feel it. There’s no mistaking it.”

Jungkook knew that now. He felt it more than ever with you now. But more pressingly, Jungkook realised – your dad knew.

If it weren’t for the drinks he’d had, Jungkook might have felt embarrassed.

In quiet admittance, Jungkook sighed. “I know.”

Your dad smiled. “You shouldn’t let this time get away from you, Jungkook. You’re young with a life to live. Do it with love and without regrets.

Jungkook nodded, feeling a tumultuous swirl of emotions inside. “I will,” he said, feeling more certain now than he had before, but he knew his head wasn’t in the right place to do this. First he ought to sober up…

There was a gentle pat on his back from your dad. “Good.” He flagged the bartender down for what felt like too many times to Jungkook. “But first another drink with me.”

“Sure.” Jungkook felt his words slur slightly. Then the cogs in his brain which were turning a little slower raised a question in his mind. his eyes narrowed and he turned to your dad. “Wait, is this a test?”

Your dad laughed. “I’ve always liked you Jungkook.”

“Me too.” Jungkook smiled though he still looked wary.

“Good.” Your dad returned the smile with even more fondness. “And no, it’s not a test. Let’s drink.”

So Jungkook stayed.

note. how are you finding it? :) let me know xoxoxo link for part 3 here

more song recs: lose control — meduza & becky hill & goodboys tenerife sea — ed sheeran i'm a mess — ed sheeran so good (stripped) — halsey crazy what love can do — david guetta & becky hill & ella henderson

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jjk fanfic #bts fanfic #jjk x you #bts x reader #jungkook oneshot #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

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shiggyscumrag · 3 months ago

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To fuck or not to fuck?

Synopsis- After joining the x men you train with them one on one till you are inevitably forced to train with Logan. During a rough training session a heated argument arises and there’s only one way to break the tension.

Warnings- open wound mentioned, blood mentioned, cussing, penetrative sex (pnv), cum play if you squint, light slapping, oral (male and female receiving), choking, gagging, a bit of crying, over stimulation, nicknames babe and princess used frequently, no pronouns are used for (y/n), I’m sorry if I missed any!

AN- look I’ll be honest I just wanted to write a situation where you hate fuck Logan 🙌🏻 also this is probably not gonna be lore accurate but does it really matter when it’s smut with no plot? NO!! so enjoy fuckers ;) I did channel Deadpool energy for this character bc why not? Also the characters power involves using their voice to manipulate the people around them into doing what they want. ily pookies 💋

Look you didn’t want to be a stupid X Men. You made it very clear since day one you just wanted to continue living your “civilian” life and to keep blending in. Of course it didn’t work out that way. Professor X was the one who pulled you out of this almost normal day to day life and threw you into his rich ass mansion full of freaks. Ok you’re a freak too but you’re not trained like them. You should be out working your five to nine barely making ends meet in your shitty one bedroom apartment, but no. Now, you’re tasked to help “save the world” from worse mutants than you.

Reluctantly, you decide since you have no choice being here, why not make something interesting out of this new arrangement? After the tour of your fancy new “home” (really a school/headquarters), it’s time to meet your new coworkers. Friends? Eh too soon.

It was a little intimidating with them all lined up staring you down when you walked into the final room of Xavier’s tour. Storm standing to your far left, Cyclops beside her, Rogue, Beast and finally the Wolverine. One by one they gave a greeting, some more friendly than others. Until Logan (you later learned) just muttered a “whatever” and left. Pushing past you while staring you down. Jesus, what’s up with that guy?

You decided it wasn’t worth it to fight on your first day so you let it go. Then weeks passed, with week after week going slowly from one mutant to another teaching you new techniques. When eventually the mutant you dreaded training with the most was up. The one and only Wolverine, Mister Logan Howlett. Bit of an ironic name you couldn’t help but chuckle at when Xavier introduced him officially. Since Logan was avoiding you at all cost the whole time you’ve been here you weren’t exactly familiar with his anger issues.

“What’s so funny bub?” You could see his claws starting to peak from his knuckles and didn’t stop another chuckle.

“Knives for hands here doesn’t even know me and he wants to shred me already. You sure I’m safe here?” You say as sarcastically as you can, really emphasizing the safe part. Xavier gave a curt nod and turned to Logan.

“Don’t embarrass me.” Leaving the room right after, you and Logan were dumbfounded. You finally let out the cackle you were holding back hunching over when the door finally closed.

“Ha!! You got in trouble!!” You stood up straight clapping your hands together “You should really start playing nice.”

“You’re real fucking immature, you know that?” He said his claws slowly peaking out more after each comment you make. You start to smirk.

“Yeah? Well I am 100 years younger than you sweet heart, so who’s really the immature one?” You could be less cruel and not want to irk him on, but that wouldn’t be interesting. Plus we’re here to train. so might as well get it started.

“I’m going to kill you.” Logan stops holding back and releases claws in one swift motion.

“What happened to this being a safe space?” Before you could continue being a smart ass he lunges at you.

Dodging you stop talking and actually try to use the training you’ve gotten to kick this guys ass. I mean what’s his fucking problem? You haven’t said a fucking word to him and he thinks he can just treat you this way with no consequences? Well fine douchbag you can get exactly what you want.

“You’re really fast! I can’t believe you’re like a thousand years old!” You say giggling as you move right in time to avoid a punch to the nose. “Now that would’ve hurt!” You spin around him kicking him straight in the back knocking him down. A quick groan and he’s back up in a flash.

Dodging and weaving his swift lunges and jabs, with a yelp you fall to the floor after he kicks your feet from under you. After being quickly tackled and claws threatening to break the skin right above one of your major artery’s you let out a small whimper.

“Are you finally going to shut the fuck up?” Logan growled a top of you teeth beared chest heaving and forehead sweaty. That was kind of fucking hot actually.

“Let’s just stop and talk this out, yeah?” You say holding your hands up next to your head giving him a big toothy smile.

Logan was more than a bit confused when his body started to move and his claws retracted. In his mind he’s screaming at his body for stopping. Pissed off at the fact he’s isn’t in control. Standing you dust yourself off and start again before he could get his control back.

“Now before you try to attack me again, let’s just take a breath and calm down. You’re fine by the way. I just have control over your body temporarily.” Anger flashes across his face and it hits you that it probably wasn’t the best idea to start with that.

“Since you’ve been a major fuck face these past few weeks you know shit about me. So let me have the pleasure of introducing myself again. My names (y/n) and I can control people with my mouth.” You smile pointing to your lips. He just stares back with slight confusion and disgust. “I tell them an action and they do it. I could hypothetically kill you at anytime too, so let’s be chill.” You say winking at him.

“Well it’s good thing I can’t die.” He says smirking back at you. Funny enough you released him a while ago yet he hasn’t attacked you again.

“You seem to be calm now?” You question. “Is that lesson one?” You poke at him.

“Don’t push it.” He huffs rolling his eyes and walking away. Doors closing behind him you crumble to the ground adrenaline rushing out of you.

A week or so of training later you and Logan still dislike each other as much as the first day you met, but you could feel a tension beneath the hate. A deep seated craving consisting of mostly hate but also a little curiosity. Maybe, even a bit of sexual frustration?

After a particularly long day of training you were quite irritated at Logan. He was being even harsher than he usually is, it was pissing you off. He lunged at you when you weren’t expecting it leaving a deep cut running down the center of your back and you couldn’t hold back a growl.

“What’s your fucking problem today?” Turning to him you stop making him hesitate. “Was I too nice for your liking, Wolvie?” You mock starting to walk towards him, frustration evident on your face.

“It is explanation enough to say that I just don’t like you?” Logan spit as venom coated every word, all while that stupid smirk wore his face. That’s it.

“Down.” Without a second to waste his knees hit the rough floor hard causing a groan to break his smugness. He couldn’t move, only being able to look at you and the anger that filled your eyes. Rage would be a better description. Joining him down on the floor you kneel as you find his chin making him lean closer to your face.

“You don’t have to be cruel Logan.” You pause looking right into his hazel eyes finding that look again. This time there was something different. You couldn’t help but soften slightly as your anger slowly started to fade. Then a sting of pain from sweat seeping into the cut he just gave you reignited the fire. Grabbing his chin harder he winces as you pull him against your forehead, noses practically touching and lips inches apart.

“Don’t let this happen again.” You push his face back hard making him tip over as you release him. Staring him down you finally turn once he stays put and leave.

Half way down the hall you hear the doors burst open with a loud bang and angry footsteps starting to rush after you. Turning you’re suddenly face to face again with Logan. This time your chins being grabbed and pulled towards his face.

“Look I don’t have a problem with you.” He whispers softly while he stares you right in the eye. It’s really hard to stay mad at him when his kitty hair is all disheveled and he’s flushed like a school girl who just got kissed for the first time.

“I didn’t mean to go as hard as I did.” He muttered out. You chuckled.

“I didn’t peg you as the type to be gentle. Unfortunately for you, I haven’t had the pleasure to figure that out.” With a smirk still on your face Logan swiftly throws you over his shoulder and starts walking down the hall. You wince as your fresh wound gets tugged distracting you from the fact that you’re going opposite of the med bay. Once you pass your room you finally noticed this not so fun fact.

“Hey, the med bay is the other way big guy. I kinda need to be stitched up here.” You say as a nervous chuckle escapes.

“I’ll stitch you up myself. I don’t need the professor all up my ass about it.” He doesn’t even look at you, just keeps walking. You hold in the laugh you so desperately want to let out because you don’t want to fuck this up. This is the nicest he has ever been. That’s right, that’s the end of that sentence with no buts! Except his actual ass being right in your view and if you could add you’d love to be all up in it.

Finally making it to his room he gently sits you on his bed. Turning around without saying a word he digs in his desk pulling out a fairly impressive med kit. Not one of those small ones no, no, like an actual emergency med bag. Your jaw dropped a little and he chuckled. Dropping it on the bed beside you he lifts your chin making you look up at him.

“You gotta take your suit off and lay down so I can stitch you up.” He said pointing to the clean plaid sheets. Looking where he pointed you chuckled.

“Well that’s a bit forward.” He rolled his eyes but this time he had a smile? “Wow I finally made you almost laugh!”

“Shut up and lay down already. I’m getting impatient.” Logan said it as harshly as he could but it came out more light than originally intended.

“Fine but turn around. You’re not getting a free show.” You wink as you give your finger a twirl. Sighing and softly shaking his head he turns around. Taking a moment to scan over his juicy toned muscular ass you then move on to actually do what you had him turn around for. Taking your top off you cup your chest and lay down.

“Alright bubble butt, I’m all yours.” Looking over your shoulder you see him turning around with an eyebrow raised until he finally sees you. His silent judgement turned into something darker. He collects himself and walks over to the bag once again shaking his head.

“Don’t stare at my ass, and definitely don’t make comments about it.” He says firmly, but you can tell he’s not being stern.

“Oh come on, it was right in front of my face! Plus, your hips sway slightly when you walk so it looked extra good-“ a loud whine stopped your sentence short when a sharp needle entered your back.

“A warning next time would be delightful!” You say sarcastically jaw clenched.

“I warned you not to talk about my ass.” That’s all he has to say?

“And once again, your ass was in my face! What else am I supposed to talk about? That’s a hypothetical by the way, it will always be about your ass.” At this point the adrenaline makes the pain in your back go numb. Fortunately, feeling his warm hand on your back kneading the needle through your skin has your panties wet. Luckily he’s fast with his needle work because two minutes later he’s done.

“Alright you’re all fixed up now.” He stands from the bed returning the supplies to his bag.

“Really?” You could have sworn that cut was huge. “Well I guess I’ll get dressed then.”

“Did you need me to turn around or are you going to finally act like I’ve seen tits before? That’s a hypothetical of course.” Mocking you with a cheeky smirk and one brow raised he tosses the med bag off the bed and onto the floor. Arms crossed he stares down at you still lying on the bed.

“Is that your way of asking to see my tits? I’d love to test and see if you’re as harsh in bed as you are during training.” Turning around still holding your chest you give your shoulders a slight shrug. “What’s it gonna be Logan? Hate sex or awkward eye contact in the hallway?”

As quick as he is in training, he’s now right in front of you, your jaw gripped by his hand. He leans down getting right in your face. You can feel his warmth radiating from his skin, it made you shiver.

“Don’t get all shy now,” He mocked. “I don’t hate you.” He looks you up and down scanning every inch of your body, unclothed and clothed. “I will fuck you though.”

“I didn’t think that’d actually work but show me what you got baby!” You say hands falling from your chest and pulling his jaw into a kiss. He kisses you back grabbing your side slowly moving to kneel on the bed. Lowering into the bed you’re now lying down. The pressure not the best feeling on your back you let out a quiet hiss.

“What’s the matter? Is it your back?” He asked gently leaning your back off the bed relieving the pain shooting though out you.

“Yeah, usually I wouldn’t mind missionary but I think your love swipe is begging for us to do something kinkier.” You say winking. Before he can say a word you hook your legs around his waist using your momentum to flip him under you on to the bed. Kissing the shock off his face he pulls back suddenly.

“Who taught you that?” He questioned, jealousy slightly peaking through.

“That’s a personal trick. Consider it a mini lesson of my own to you.” You leave a little boop to his nose finding his lips again before he could ask any more questions. Starting to grind down on him, he grabs your hips rolling them at a slower pace. It was deeper though, way harder. Slow hard and precise. You didn’t stop the moan that fell into his mouth. Groaning in response he squeezed your hips even tighter causing you to pull back. Arching your back while dry humping him you let out a breathy moan. Reaching up you grab your tits rolling your nipples in between your fingers. Still guiding your hips a low rumble growls from Logan’s throat as his head rolled back. A pretty erotic site.

“You’re killing me here bub.” He groaned out as he sat up meeting face to face. He starts kissing your jaw moving down to your pressure point playfully nibbling. You moan embarrassingly loud, you could feel his grin against your neck. That made you want to stroke your ego a bit. Pulling his head back by the roots of his hair you grind down extra hard feeling his hip buck to meet yours. You quietly laugh and push him back down. Crawling up an inch or two to give him one more sloppy kiss before sitting back up.

“Don’t worry baby you don’t have to wait for this pretty pussy any longer.” You’re unbuckling his belt and pulling his boxers down to remove his- holy shit huge cock.

“Damn Logan! They weren’t lying when they said you were huge down unda!” You turn to wink to the fourth wall.

“Usually that would kill the mood but you’re really fucking hot.” He pants out “Now back to what you were doing.” He pulls his pants further down his hips and you begin to stroke him.

Eventually getting to impatient you say fuck it and decide to take him all in one go. Loudly he groans, his eyes meet yours, his pupils fully blown out. At the sight you couldn’t help but start bouncing on his cock. Letting go of your hips he lets you set the pace. Grinding down you curve your hips so he could run against your walls deliciously rough. Getting slightly cock drunk after just a few strides your pace begins to increase wanting more of that feeling. Growing desperate you let out a whimpering moan. Hands falling from your chest to Logan’s chest.

“Logan, please.” You beg desperately. Still riding him you plead with him. You looked so pitiful, he couldn’t help the way his twitched hard deep in you. You’re so fucking beautiful.

“What do you want baby? Use your words.”

“I want you to fuck me.” You whine out, you want him to take control and fuck the shit out of you. “Fuck me so hard I won’t be able to walk tomorrow!” You moan out loudly as he bucks his hips up suddenly. Grabbing your hand he intertwines with your fingers squeezing hard and steadying you. Bucking up into you fast he doesn’t feel he is deep enough.

Moving to grab you by your waist he flips you onto your knees face being pushed into his pillows. Drool starts to pool in your mouth form being engulfed by the scent of his sheets. He pushes himself back in quickly making you moan out his name.

“This better princess?” He said with a big smirk “I only want to hear my name come out your mouth. Got it?”

“Yes, daddy!” You were half joking about that nickname. Good thing you felt his cock twitch before you let out that nervous laugh bubbling up your throat.

“Fuck me.” He moans out.

“No fuck me-“ cut off once again by his cock pounding into you. Grabbing at the sheets you could feel his hands move from your hips to rest on either side of your head. Hitting even deeper inside you he then grabs your throat with one hand making you sit up on your hands and knees. Still fucking into you he pulls you all the way up to his chest, grabbing his arm for support you feel him tighten his grip on your neck. This euphoria wasn’t going to last much longer because you were gonna cum hard.

“Logan- I’m gonna cum!” You could barely speak between your pants and erotic moans.

“Cum on my cock princess.” His other hand finds your clit rubbing it at the same pace his cock is pounding inside of you. Letting out a loud moan you could feel the warmth building fast.

“Want me to cum inside you? I want to cum with you.” Panting to the pace of his hips he continues “Fill you up like the slut you are.” He growls into your ear. His voice full of lust and desperation.

“Fill me up baby!” You laugh out in between moans. He groans as he feels your walls spasm around him. You feel bliss and see black speckles fill your vision as your cum dribbles down his cock. Reaching back your hands find his hair and dig hard into his scalp. The pain causes Logan to fall over the edge and cum hard deep inside you.

“Oh fuck, can’t stop!” He practically whined out still fucking into you chasing his high. Still rubbing your clit you start to whine out from over stimulation. Before he can stop himself from rutting into you anymore you come again. Almost screaming out a moan you dig your nails into his shoulders. You feel so fucking warm, soaking wet and tight. Logan can’t pull himself away from you. You feel to good.

“Logan, you horny bitch!” Smirking while grinding back into him you slow his pace down. Moving his hand away from your clit his hands find the inner parts of your thigh. Picking you up slightly to meet his hips even closer than before he groans into the side of your neck. You start to feel the familiar cold metal of his claws poking into your thighs.

“Feel good pretty boy?” You turn towards his face and move one of your hands to his jaw. Before he could answer you start to make out with him while still grinding into him harder. Logan moans into your mouth before pulling away. Finally stopping with his cock still hard inside you he sighs into your shoulder kissing you.

“Feel real fucking good.” Starting to leave a hickey right behind your ear you begin to pull away.

“You trying to go another round or do you need more time to recover hot stuff? I don’t want to hurt that metal hip you know how to move just right.” Squeezing his sides you can feel his abs move under your hands. You moan quietly moving your hands down to his v line. Eventually making your way to his ass giving it a firm squeeze. Turning your head at the same time you find the side of his neck biting down a little rough on the lobe of his ear.

He growls out and you can feel his claws start to push against the flesh of your thighs. Retracting them he pulls out and flips you around sitting you up on your knees facing him on the edge of the bed.

“Bend down and suck my dick loud mouth.” Grabbing you by the base of your hair you slowly started crawling down onto your hands and knees. Ass arched in the air you find the tip of his cock in your face. Pre cum falling from his pinkish tip. You lick your lips looking up at him.

“It’d be my pleasure.” Not getting a chance to say anything else he starts fucking into your mouth. Breathing through your nose you start to lick against his length going opposite of his thrusts. Loud squelching filled the room. It was absolutely filthy, but so fucking HOT! You moaned into his cock, the vibrations sending a shiver through him. Moaning loud he starts going faster. Tears start to roll down your cheeks and you feel nothing but pure pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum soon. Keep sucking baby.” His eyes are shut tightly and you decide then you want to see him totally fucked out. Sucking extra hard and messy you lock eyes with him when he looks down at you. Moaning loudly he starts to pant.

“Good girl! Fuck you’re really good! Don’t stop!” Using both hands he starts pushing your head down faster and way deeper. His dick was starting to go down your throat. Deep throating him you hold yourself down on his cock moaning out his name. Barely audible for obvious reasons, he pulled you off his cock.

“What’s my name princess?” He smirks holding the base of his cock in his other hand.

“Logan!” Sounding hoarse considering this is the first time you could breathe in the last 5 minutes.

“But I prefer wolf daddy!” Always gotta keep the mood light! Gently slapping you on your cheek he pushes your head all the way down his cock. Gagging from the sudden intrusion you quickly begin to suck on him again.

Logan’s hips bucked into your mouth over and over while his balls slapped against your chin. Slobber running down your chin reaching your throat dribbling all over his balls and down his pelvis. His pubes leading to a happy trail is all you can focus on for the moment. Some of your juice still glistening on his mound. You moan against his dick again finally pushing him over causing him to grip your hair tight. Swallowing every last drop he has to give you. A low hum comes from you as the veins on his chest pop out from the pleasure. God this man was fucking hot. Rock hard abs, a sweat glistened chest with the sexiest chest hair, his perfectly cut arms and beautifully sculpted legs. The full package. And god knows you LOVE his package.

Popping off his cock once he was down you swallow the rest of his cum in your mouth. Licking your lips you sit up meeting his lips so he could taste himself on your tongue. One passionate steamy kiss later you pull back running a hand through his hair down to his cheek.

“I’m surprised you can use that mouth for more than just shit talk.” He chuckles kissing you quickly on the cheek.

“You always have to be able to ride the cock if you’re gonna talk the talk. Is that how that saying goes?” Tilting your head he puts his hand over your mouth.

“Enough of that.” Shaking his head he leaves you on the bed going to his closet. He pulls out a new pair of boxers pulling them on and then grabbing a pair for you. Moving over he grabs a wife beater for himself and an over sized flannel for you. Walking back over he sets your clothes on the bed.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Pointing to your cunt that’s still dripping his cum. “It’s not very gentlemanly to leave a mess.”

Kneeling down he sits between your legs. Without saying a word he starts licking between your folds lapping up all the cum in its wake. Rolling your head back you fall back on to your elbows. Moaning out his name his tongue dives into your hole making your flinch. Hand instinctively finding his hair pulling a little. Finding your eyes he starts to suck on your clit. Flicking his tongue fast up and down, then swirling around you he moans. The noise mixed with being over stimulated already had you cumming again but this time into his mouth.

“God Logan don’t stop!” Riding against his face you stop a minute later once your high has passed. With a groan you fall limp against his sheets. Not even caring about the slight ache that goes through your back.

“I finally got you to shut up.” And without saying a word you’re already out cold. Getting a cloth he washes you up and dresses you in his clothes. I guess he didn’t mind spending the night with you in his bed. You were surprisingly cute when you slept snoring softly and cuddled all into his side. You were warm and soft too. Logan can learn to like this quiet side of you.

I hope you guys enjoyed this one, I haven’t posted for a while so it’s hard not to second guess myself. Let me know if you want anymore Wolverine and possibly even Deadpool content?

#logan howlett #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine xmen #x men smut #x men x reader

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spider-stark · 3 months ago

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SWORN PROTECTOR

Criston Cole x Targaryen!Reader

Summary - After sneaking back into the Keep from a night spent out in the city, you find your sworn protector, Ser Criston Cole, waiting for you in your room.

Warnings - fem!reader, targtower!reader, not edited, reader has mommy/daddy issues, duty turned devotion type bullshit, criston can't just guard a woman without falling in love ig, yearning

Word Count - 2k

!MINORS DNI!

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

Soft footfalls echo in the narrow corridor of Maegor’s passages. You keep a palm cupped around the candle in your other hand, protecting the flame so it won’t gutter out. Secret doors are scattered throughout the corridor, each leading into bedchambers or solars or other forgotten passages. Having already left your brother, Aegon, at the secret door leading to his room, you keep count of your steps.

One, two; seven, eight; thirteen, fourteen; twenty, twenty-one.

At just over twenty-five paces, the exact distance between his room and yours, you stop, turn to the left and blow your candle out, setting it on the ground for next time you go sneaking through to passages.

Cold stone bites at your palms as you press them against the aged door. You cringe with every scrape and groan as you push it open. When there’s a gap just wide-enough, you turn sideways and shimmy inside.

You’re greeted by warm light, candles flickering from all around your room, chasing the shadows of dusk into faraway corners. If you weren’t so preoccupied with heaving the door back into place, adjusting the tapestry that hides its seams from view, you may have noticed that there are more candles lit now than when you slipped out earlier, having abandoned the Keep in favor of a night spent in the city lying below Aegon’s High Hill.

When all is as it was, the secret door shut and covered, you turn around. Heaving a sigh, you shrug your cloak from your shoulders, letting it fall into a heap on the floor. Gooseflesh immediately forms along your arms, kissed by the chill breeze blowing in from the open balcony.

You walk to the vanity on the far side of your room, rolling your neck and shoulders, muscles sore from hours spent dancing among the smallfolk in a Flea Bottom tavern. Exhaustions made your bones weary, fantasies of crawling into warm sheets plague your mind. They tempt you, urging you to forego your nightly routine in favor of sweet, sweet sleep.

Your footsteps falter, casting a wistful glance down your shoulder to your bed when—

Seven Hells!

Your pulse jumps, a scream threatens to rip from your throat at the sight of a figure sat on the foot of your bed. You react quickly, clamping a hand over your mouth to muffle any sound, not wanting to raise alarm amongst the guards. Recognition washes over you in a matter of seconds, taking them in one detail at a time: their weathered boots and polished armor, tanned skin and ever-present frown.

Lowering your hand, you have half a mind to curse Criston for frightening you like this, for not announcing himself as soon as you snuck in—

Rational thought trumps what remains of fear.

He had to have seen you—sneaking in from the passages, hiding the door upon entrance.

Fuck.

The air turns thick. Every breath is like sucking treacle into your lungs, slow and suffocating. Criston’s stare is heavy, his expression like weathered stone. Armor grinds against itself as his arms cross over his chest. “Where have you been?”

There’s some relief that he doesn’t first question you about the passages. Does he already know about them, you wonder? After all, before Criston became your protector, he was sworn to your half-sister, Rhaenyra—who, in your youth, was said to be quite rebellious.

A trait Criston finds to be alive and well within you.

You look away from him, continuing to your vanity. “I was out,” you answer, purposefully curt. “Obviously.”

Nudging the vanity stool with your foot, you take a seat upon its plush velvet cushion. Criston pushes off your bed, and you fight a smirk at the sound of his footfalls, heavy and fervent as he strides to your side.

“Out where?”

You pull your neatly plaited hair over your shoulder, watching yourself in the mirror as you untie the ribbon binding it. “In the city,” you tell him, tossing the scrap of silk onto the vanity top. “Where else would I go?”

“Were you alone?”

You reach for your brush, begin combing. “What does it matter?” Before he can answer, you catch his gaze in the reflection, eyes playfully narrowing as you ask, “If I said that I wasn’t, would you be jealous, Ser Criston?”

He certainly looks jealous.

The knight’s breathing is shallow, tanned cheeks flush with frustration. At your question, a muscle feathers in his jaw, clenched so tight that you can nearly hear his teeth grind together. There’s a dark gleam in his eyes, a shadow of rage—not at you, you don’t think. But at whoever may have been graced with your presence tonight, showered with your favor and affection.

“As your sworn protector,” Criston says, voice strained, “I have a right to ask if you were escorted by another member of the Kingsguard.”

There’s such emotion in it—the way he said: Your sworn protector. A trembling betrays his fraying restraint, revealing the raw nerve beneath and exposing Criston’s desperation, a desire to not only be sworn to you, but to be wholly possessed by you.

Your sworn protector—no longer a title, but an identity.

Your sworn protector—no longer an oath, but a sacred devotion.

You set your brush down, holding his stare with a faint smirk. “I’m afraid that doesn’t answer my question, Ser.”

Something snaps. His mouth twists into a scowl.

“Are you truly so thoughtless, princess?” Criston asks, his tone maintaining a delicate balance between respect and disappointment. “Do you understand it’s your very life you play with? And that it’s not only you who would suffer the consequences of this… this utter lack of duty! This wanton negligence!”

You could have him dismissed from the Kingsguard for this.

For speaking so freely. For interrogating a princess. For trespassing in your rooms.

Criston continues, “If something were to happen to you, my life is forfeit. The king would–”

He’s interrupted by wood screeching against stone, the vanity stool thrust back as you rise to your feet. You turn to stand toe-to-toe with the knight, chin tilted to lock eyes with him. “The king,” you hiss with a sickly smile, contradicting the venom in your voice, “would do nothing—just as he’s done all my life.”

The energy shifts. Criston’s scowl morphs to a pitying frown.

“He is your father,” his protest is a tentative breath, laced with underlying uncertainty, “if something happened to you, he would seek justice.”

You laugh, low and bitter. Shake your head and shove past the knight. “If he mistook me for Rhaenyra, perhaps,” you say, kicking off your shoes as you head to the wardrobe next to your bed. “If not, then I imagine he wouldn’t even notice I’m gone. My life—the lives of my siblings—has never meant anything to him.”

Criston redirects, facing you now. He argues, “It means something to your mother.”—And to me, he holds back.

A scoff, throwing the wardrobe open.

Your mother loves you, of course—but it’s the kind of love that hurts. It’s cold distance and piercing scrutiny, violent words and stinging cheeks. If you were to die, she would certainly mourn. But it won’t change that she failed you. It won’t make her a good mother.

When you don’t respond, mindlessly digging through a drawer of nightgowns, Criston knows better than to broach that particular topic any further.

With a hesitant breath, he says, “It’s my duty to protect you. To keep you safe.” He takes several steps, decreasing the distance between you by coming to stand at the foot of your bed. You stay facing the wardrobe. “It’s true that I cannot tell you what to do—if you wish to fraternize with common-men—” such distaste laces this word—“then that is your will.”

There’s a pause. Your hands falter, swathed in a mess of silky fabric as you wait for him to continue.

“I only ask that you heed caution, princess. For you to allow me to accompany you and do my job—to safeguard your life, your virtue-”

Genuine amusement floods your chest. It spills from your lips in a string of vivacious giggles. “Is that what this is about, Ser Criston? My virtue?” You settle on a nightgown, turn around and toss it onto your bed. You glance to the foot of it, at Criston and his ever-present frown. “You truly are a jealous man,” you muse, smiling, “aren’t you? Thinking I go into the city to fuck common-men.”

His fists tighten at his sides, the blatant mockery in your voice having invited a wave of embarrassment.

“It was not my intention to imply that—”

The words catch in Criston’s throat as you turn the opposite way, slip your shirt over your head and shimmy out of your trousers, leaving the smallclothes beneath. All he can see is your back—the smooth column of your spine, brushed by tendrils of long, silver hair—but that’s enough.

Enough to make his heart jolt, hammer against his ribcage. Enough to make his knees weak, threaten to buckle beneath his weight. Enough to light a fire inside him, flames licking at every inch of his skin.

Grasping at the final shreds of his restraint, Criston averts his gaze to the floor.

He swallows on a too-dry throat. “King’s Landing is full of vile men, princess,” he tells you, a sense of guilt pricking at his conscience. “And vile men are known to commit vile acts.”

You reach out an arm, grab the nightgown and pull it over your head. Silk glides over your skin, covering the exposed flesh that tempts the knight so.

Whirling to face him, you ask, “And what about you?”

Criston doesn’t answer, still studying the rug beneath his feet with a staggering intensity. You catch his brow furrow, though, a small wrinkle forming there. You elaborate on your question.

“You’re a man in King’s Landing,” you tell him, leisurely placing one foot in front of the other, gliding to where he stands at the end of your bed. “Are you as vile as the rest of them, Ser Criston?”

Again, only silence.

You take another step. Less than a foot of space separates you, close enough now to scent the earthy musk of his armor. “Some might think it vile,” you continue, taunting him, “for you to be here right now—hiding in my bedchambers well after dark.”

Criston stammers, his words broken-up by serrated breaths, “I merely wished to know that you were safe, princess.” Dark eyes flutter up from the floor, drawn to yours. “My intentions were pure.”

“Were?”

His blood thrums. His lungs ache.

You continue, “Do you mean your intentions have changed, Ser Criston?”

Criston tells the truth. “No.” With you, his intentions are always pure. It’s his desires that complicate things. “My intentions are the same,” he tells you, clearing his throat, “I only wish to know you’re safe. That you’re well-protected.”

Your mistrust in his answer is evident. Lips pursed, your eyes scan his face, searching for something. At this moment, he feels every bit like prey. A cornered animal trapped beneath the searing gaze of a dragon, left entirely at your mercy.

A part of him is terrified. Another, utterly entranced.

Finally, you click your tongue. Reaching out a hand, you place it against his chest. His gaze falls, staring at where your palm is pressed to his armor. He wonders how it might feel against his skin. “You’re an honorable knight, Ser Criston,” you tell him, smiling. “A good man, too.”

Criston doesn’t remember the need for oxygen until your touch falls away.

Turning your back to him again, you stride back around your bed, pull the blankets back, and sit on the edge of your mattress. His mind is still reeling when you next speak.

“I was with Aegon.”

Criston blinks. “What?”

“You asked if I was alone,” you say, reminiscing on his earlier question, “I wasn’t. I was with Aegon—who was accompanied by Ser Erryk.” Sliding your legs beneath the blankets, you lean back against a stack of plush pillows. “So I was well-protected from those vile men you speak of.” Chewing on your lip, fighting a wider grin, you add, “I just thought you might like to know—despite how unjealous you are.”

Criston’s own lips twitch, curving upwards.

“Good,” he says, a bit awkward. Then: “And about that secret door…”

You groan, tossing your head back against the pillows. Criston softly chuckle, another lecture already poised on the tip of his tongue.

It’s going to be a long night.

a/n - idk man. I randomly decided at 8pm that I needed to write 2k words about this man after never writing for him a day in my life, and this is the product of that. any and all feedback is welcome and much appreciated!

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6esiree · 5 months ago

Text

Getting Dared To Call Them Daddy Pt. 3

Summary: You get dared to call Valentino and Angel Dust daddy.

Warnings: Swearing, slightly suggestive, Val being Val. I speak Spanish but not Italian, so I just went off of what I found online. Forgive me if I’m incorrect ❤️‍🩹 Also decided to reupload this to see how it’ll do + I made some minor changes.

Valentino:

Your sentiments about Valentino were mixed. As a bartender, the last thing you wanted to do was chat it up with the patrons, especially because they usually only spoke to you to try to get into your pants. While the moth wasn’t that blatantly obvious with his intentions, the language he used with you subtle and strangely bordering along sweet, you knew what he did for a living.

He was a pimp, exploiting people for money and power, so you didn’t trust him all that much. Still, you couldn’t help but find him…attractive, appreciating the moth from afar with fleeting glances. That was all you allowed yourself to do, prohibiting your mind from traveling past the superficial thoughts, and you made sure of it by being curt with Valentino whenever you interacted with him.

You did this for the longest time, but then Velvette convinced you to play a game of Truth or Dare one night, and suddenly, you had to interact with the moth in the worst way possible. “I dare you to call Val daddy,” She said, immediately halting what you were doing as you processed her words. Had she noticed the way you looked at Valentino? No, there was no way she had…or had she?

“I’m sorry, what?” You stammered, setting down the glass you were cleaning. “Come on, Vel—why the fuck should I do that?”

“Got a bone to pick with that fucker, that’s why,” Velvette said, shrugging before tapping the counter, asking for another drink. “Trust me, babe, he won’t hurt a single hair on your head.”

You complied, feeling slightly relieved that her dare had just been a mere coincidence. Slightly. You still had to call the moth daddy, which was weird because how the hell would that constitute as payback? That’s what you wondered as you grabbed a bottle of tequila, serving Velvette a shot knowing damn well that she preferred cocktails.

“Okay, but that doesn’t help me understand why I should do it,” You said, sliding the shot to her.

“Look, you’ll understand when you do it, alright?” Velvette said, shooting you a dirty look before downing it like a champ in front of you. “Also, never mind calling him daddy,” She added, and you would have sighed in relief if she hadn’t continued, “Say ‘Papi,’ or however the fuck you say daddy in Spanish.”

Yeah, if you used the Spanish version on Valentino, you weren’t going to be able to walk away from him—literally. You might as well ask him to fuck you. As you opened your mouth to protest, a familiar face slid onto the stool next to Velvette. ‘Fuck,’ you thought, averting your eyes and focusing on the dirty glasses you had set aside, trying not to panic.

“Do what?” Valentino asked, chuckling when Velvette shot him a glare over her shoulder.

“Nothing.”

“Uh-huh.”

Even though the background was filled with the chattering of people and the incessant sound of slot machines being used, the silence that enveloped the bar was painfully loud. You decided to speak up, the tension between the two overlords only serving to exacerbate your anxiety.

“So, uh, what d’ya want, Val?” You asked, clearing your throat.

Valentino turned to you with a hum, his antennas moving at the sound of your voice. As he faced you, you were glad that he had no pupils, irises, or whatever they were called, feeling only slightly intimidated under his stare. Your throat bobbed in anticipation as you watched him contemplate your question, though.

“Hm, tell me, what does the pretty little barkeep recommend?” Valentino eventually asked, his gold tooth glinting under the dim light as he grinned.

“Well, what are you craving?” You asked, backing up and leaning onto the counter behind you, gesturing to the various liquors around you, “I can make you anything—been doing this shit for a long time.”

“You know what? Surprise me.”

Valentino perched his chin on top of his knuckles, intent on watching you work. You mentally sighed, turning around and grabbing the first bottle of liquor you saw, which happened to be rum. It was easy to make something good out of it, so you had a cocktail whipped up for the moth in no time.

“Here ya go—oh! Where’s Velvette?” You asked as you turned around, the stool next to Valentino empty.

“Over there being a fucking piss baby,” He gestured to the other side of the bar with his head. “Nothing new.”

Velvette moved several stools down while you were making Valentino’s drink, which was a bit funny to think about, admittedly. She looked pissed, but he didn’t seem to care, his claws brushing against the back of your hand as he accepted the cocktail. You mentally cursed yourself out for the way your body reacted to the gesture, goosebumps littering your skin.

“Thank you, cariño.”

You were about to ask Valentino if he liked his drink, but then you felt something hit your arm, looking down at your feet to see a crumpled piece of napkin. Yeah, it had to be Velvette. You raised your head to look at her, and oh, did you regret doing that, the way she mouthed “Do it,” with a serious expression making your heart drop.

Chewing your lip, you backed up, hoping that everything would turn out fine. It probably would, especially as Valentino wasn’t that much of a threat compared to the other Vees. You couldn’t even imagine a worst case scenario if you wanted to…unless it had to do with the whole avoiding him thing—then no, everything would not turn out fine.

“So, did I do you right?” You asked, trying your best to appear nonchalant as you leaned over the counter.

You suddenly became painfully aware of everything Valentino did, but you particularly liked the way his antennas moved whenever you spoke, seemingly delighted by the sound of your voice. He placed his drink down on the counter, slightly craning his neck as he took in the sight of you. This was the longest you had ever interacted with him for, and judging by the look on his face, he knew that.

“Of course you did,” Valentino chuckled, the nickname affecting you more than the first time, “It would have been obvious if you hadn’t, no?”

“Right,” You said, feeling Velvette’s stare burn into the side of your head.

Valentino offered you a sly smile as he picked up his drink, but before he could attach his lips to the rim, you reached out and wrapped your hand around his. The way his eyes widened as you leaned in and helped yourself to something that was not yours felt so…powerful. He quickly recovered, though, and you knew that when the scent of cigarettes and alcohol wafted into your nostrils.

“Hm, yes, it would have been obvious,” You hummed, throat bobbing as you swallowed the alcohol.

“I told you,” Valentino said, thinking he had you right where he wanted you.

“I just had to make sure, y’know?” You said, resting your cheek on your palm, looking up at him through your lashes. “Now how’s about you do me right, papi?”

Just like that, Valentino switched up, recoiling as the word left your lips. It’s not that he didn’t like it—no, he fucking loved it. In fact, he’d rail you right there on the counter, forcing you to call him papi over and over again until your voice went hoarse. But the moth knew that you’d never willingly do that, the way Velvette cackled on the other side of the bar a testament of that.

Now, Valentino was pissed, and because you couldn’t tell who it was directed at, you tried to apologize. “I didn’t—“ You started, but then he grabbed your face, bringing you in for a searing kiss that left you feeling rather…dizzy, intoxicated even. “Once I handle this pinche puta desagradecida,” Valentino spoke against your lips, a wicked smile on his face as he watched a pink streak trickle down the corner of your mouth, your eyes half-lidded, “I’ll do you right, baby, mm?” You could only nod, feeling defeated, but at least he’d make you feel good.

Angel Dust:

The first person you befriended at the Hazbin Hotel was Angel Dust. He was friendly—too friendly, even—but you didn’t mind. You liked him, and honestly, you thought he liked you too. But then you saw how often he seemed to be in Husk’s space, never missing an opportunity to invite him into his bed. That is why you took everything Angel said or did with a grain of salt, failing to notice the way he looked at you longingly from across the room, wishing that you reciprocated his feelings.

But when Angel introduced you to Cherri Bomb, a close friend of his, you started to have second thoughts about everything. She quirked a brow at you an hour into a game of Truth or Dare, her eyes darting between you and Angel, who was practically glued to your side. You shrugged Cherri off, though, because what were you supposed to tell her that she didn’t know?

“Shit, ran outta beer. I’m gonna go get me anotha’ one,” Angel announced as he stood up from his spot on the couch. “Don’t ya two play without me, alright?”

Yeah, Cherri didn’t care, and she made that known as she turned to you with a wicked smile on her face. “Truth or Dare?” She asked you, taking a swig of her beer as she waited for your response. You didn’t want to come off as lame, so you put on a brave face and said dare, never anticipating that she’d make you confront Angel in the dumbest way possible.

“Bold—I like it!” Cherri said, looking over her shoulder before suddenly seizing the collar of your shirt. “Come ‘ere, darling.”

“What are you—“ You started.

But you interrupted yourself with a gasp, your faces only a few centimeters apart as she pulled you in. What the Hell was Cherri up to? You wondered, your nose crinkling when her breath fanned against your face. She eventually turned away and settled her lips next to your ear, which you were glad about…until she hit you with something even more unpleasant.

“I dare ya to call Angel daddy,” Cherri said, letting you go before you could process her words.

You shook your head, confused by the idea of calling Angel a term he sometimes referred to himself as. And what would calling him daddy achieve, exactly? Except for making things awkward between the two of you.

“I’m sorry, what?“ You stuttered in disbelief. “That’s—no! I can’t do that!”

“Wait, nah, you’re right,” Cherry said, but she wasn’t agreeing with what you thought she was agreeing to. “Do you know Italian? ‘Cause I think it’d be more effective if you said it in Italian.”

“No,” You deadpanned.

“It’s like, papino, or uh, paparino? Some shit like that. But neither sound that hot, ya know?” Cherry continued. “You can just call him papi, ehh…no, papino.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” You scoffed.

Angel liked Husk, and the last thing you wanted to do was get in between that—or did you?

“What? You gonna pussy out?”

No, you were not, but out of all the things Cherri could have dared you to do, why…that? She laid back on the couch adjacent from you, innocently swinging her legs over the armrest as you rested your face in your palms. You were so busy mentally cursing yourself for caring about how Cherri perceived you that you jumped when the couch dipped next to you.

“Is everythin’ alright with ya?” Angel asked you, your eyes widening when he settled a hand on your back.

As his fingers delicately stroked your spine, an act that felt intimate and therefore forbidden, you figured out Cherri’s reasoning behind her dare. You lowered your hands, peering up at Angel to see him looking down at you with genuine concern. His hand halted as your eyes scoured his face, but when a blush creeped up his neck, embarrassment flooded your brain.

Angel didn’t even look at Husk like that, you realized, most likely fooling around with the poor old bartender because you didn’t seem to reciprocate his feelings. That was a painful thought, but you had no time to beat yourself up over that, especially with Cherri watching you and Angel thinking something was wrong with you.

“Shit—no, sorry,” You quickly said, straightening your back and offering him a smile.

“Are ya sure, honey?” Angel asked, your stomach flipping at the endearing term. That was a first. “Ya took, like, quite a while to answer.”

“Yeah, do ya need to cool down for a sec?” Cherri added, a smug look on her face.

Of course she was acting innocent. But it made sense, considering that the two of you continued to play the game despite Angel telling you not to do so.

“Nah, trust me, I’m good,” You said, trying not to glare at her.

“Ehh, I’m startin’ to think that somethin’ happened while I was away,” Angel said, folding his arms as his eyes darted between the two of you, obviously suspicious.

Cherri downed the rest of her beer, saving herself from having to respond to the spider and leaving you completely at his mercy. It was times like these where you regretted skimping on drinking, so you had no other choice but to get over the stupid dare.

“Yeah, I have no idea what you’re going on about,” You said, leaning back into the couch and crossing your legs.

“I ain’t blind! The two of ya are actin’ all weird and shit,” Angel said, standing up and wildly gesturing around himself with his hands. “I was only away for a few minutes, so what the Hell did ya guys talk about in such a short span of time, huh?”

“Oh, you wanna talk about ‘actin’ all weird and shit’?” You got up from the couch and approached the spider.

Cherri sat up, interested to see what you were up to. You weren’t a pussy, and you were going to show her that.

“I—uh, what?” Angel shook his head, his brows knitted in confusion.

“Please, you act weird all the damn time!” You started, observing how flustered he was under your stare. “Yet I don’t tell you shit.”

“I don’t know what ya talkin’ about—“ Angel started.

“Bullshit.”

You placed a hand on his shoulder, his body immediately growing tense. This was the first time that you had touched Angel, so you weren’t entirely surprised to see him react the way that he did. But when you trailed your hand down, your fingers disappearing into the fluff of his chest, that just proved to you that whatever he felt towards you was different.

“This—do you feel this?” You asked him, noticing the way his heart-rate picked up underneath your palm. “Yeah, that’s what you do to me all the time.”

“I, uh—it ain’t no different than how I treat Husk,” Angel weakly countered, a nervous chuckle escaping his throat.

“I’m not talking about Husk,” You said, trying not to glare at Cherri as she squealed. “I’m talking about this,” You placed your hand directly over his heart.

“I make ya feel like…this?” Angel stuttered, reaching up to place his hand over yours.

“Yes.”

“Then why didn’t ya tell me anythin’?”

“Because of Husk.”

Angel stared right through you, thinking about how the two of you could have been together if you’d been honest from the start. That was what you gathered from his facial expressions, observing how they alternated between happiness and disappointment.

“I feel like such a jackass,” Angel admitted, pulling you in by the waist with his second set of arms. “All this time ya liked me, and I thought ya didn’t ‘cause—ah, I fucked up, huh?”

“Hey, I didn’t say anything either,” You smiled at him.

“That don’t compare to what I did,” Angel scoffed. “I mean, the whole time we could’ve—“

“How about you shut up and give me a kiss, papino,” You said, reaching up to cradle his face, thumb caressing his cheekbone.

You would have received your kiss if you hadn’t added the last part, but hey, you weren’t complaining. The way Angel melted in your arms was reward enough. “Did ya really learn Italian…just for me?” He asked you, too busy swooning over you to notice how your arms trembled as you held him. “Yeah, uh, something like that,” You chuckled, shooting Cherri a glare when she tried to interject. “I think—I think he’s the one that needs to cool down now,” She laughed, but the spider shook his head, mumbling something about wanting to do the opposite in bed with you. Yeah, you were in for a long night.

Credit for Angel’s part:

@/hazbingirliexoxo

(Not sure if they wanted to be tagged again)

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86espresso · 6 months ago

Note

can I get the "too much communication" with jack?

I think that's what your last post was for 😭

shut up (with affection!) | jh86

sum: in which jack likes to hear himself talk

prompt: too much communication (💀)

warnings: smut, angst, fluff ☺️ use of y/n :/ ,use of she/her pronouns for reader, short

wc: 908

a/n: help yes, im sorry i wasn’t clear with what i wanted but if you haven’t noticed im pretty small on hockeyblr 😔 so i didn’t think anyone would actually ask but omg so happy you did ❤️ also not sure why im seeing this decades later.

—

LIGHT shone through the curtains in Y/N’s bedroom, though that wasn’t what woke her up.

An arm was slung across her waist, legs were tangled with hers, a face was buried in the crevice of her neck, and soft lips were moving up and down her shoulder. She felt something go off in her stomach. She could get used to this.

“Awake, angel?” Jack’s rough morning voice reached Y/N’s ears and could’ve just melted right then. He had been with her for close to ten months now; meaning they had practically moved in with eachother, she was at every home game, he was at every soccer match, she had a drawer at his, he had a toothbrush at hers. They were slowly intertwining in each other’s lives and neither of them wanted to stop anytime soon.

And then he started.

The endless rambling that half annoyed, half endeared Y/N.

“Wait no- I mean that I should use a different word instead of pretty because you’re so many things and you like when i use long words, don’t you ? I should-”

“Jack, my love, slow down,” Y/N says, facing him and cupping his cheek. His hair is tousled, eyes droopy, bottom lip jutted out, and brows furrowed. He’s shirtless and the sunlight bathes him in a soft golden light. Her heart skips a beat as she assures him that complimenting her in any way would melt her even if it was the same thing, every day, for the rest of their lives.

—

The room was dark and hot and the bed rocked with Jack’s movements. He had one hand loose around Y/N’s throat and the other supporting her leg that was thrown over his shoulder.

It was all going fine until

“Y’know what Trev told me the other day.”

Y/N’s eyes snapped open. What the fuck???

His hair was falling in his eyes and a thin sheet of sweat covered his body. He looked so good and was doing so well.

“Jack? What-” she stopped short when he thrusted particularly roughly making her jaw drop and her eyes roll to the back of her head. Jack wasn’t phased though.

“He- told me how-oh fuck I’m so close, baby-” Y/N quickly shut him up by yanking his mouth down to hers. She really didn’t want to hear how fucking Zegras did whatever in her current position.

—

Y/N stood off to the side as Jack abruptly wraps up the post game interview after giving curt responses. She raised her eyebrows; normally it could get hard to not make him overshare.

Jack had already showered and changed into a delicious suit that was for sure coming off as soon as they got home.

“Hi, angel.” Y/N got on her tip toes to press a soft kiss against Jack’s lips. He wrapped his arms around her and sighed, pulling back and resting his forehead against hers. “Hey.”

It was short and quiet and so unlike Jack (even after a loss) and she hated it.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Y/N reached forward to cup his cheek and lightly caresses it with her thumb. He leans against her hand and his eyes droop.

“Nothin’, sweets. Just tired.” Y/N knew there had to be more, she could tell by the way his fingers were fiddling with eachother and the almost unnoticeable clinch of his eyebrows.

“C’mon, baby, talk to me,” Y/N softly murmurs, Jack’s new behavior doesn’t feel natural at all. He was so full of energy all the time (definitely because of the three hour naps) that she didn’t even have to match it if she was tired; he had enough for both of them.

“D’you-,” he pauses and steps back, removing his arms from her and running a quick hand through his hair. “Do you think I talk too much? Or I over share? Does it bother you?” His brows furrow deeper and Y/N’s heart stutters. She understood why he got so closed off all of a sudden. Her tough, strong boyfriend had such a sweet heart she could cry.

“Oh hon, well yes you do but it’s never bothered me. I actually really love it. You’re able to talk so much all the time and there’s nothing I love more than the sound of your voice.” Y/N watches as Jack’s expression softens. She steps closer and weaves her arms around him from the inside of his suit jacket.

“I love that you’re so expressive. I love how you just say anything no matter, I love how-” Y/N pauses. The three words dancing on the tip of her tongue, waiting and anticipating. She takes a deep breath and sneaks a glance at Jack, who had the hint of a smile that reached his eyes.

“I love you.”

He goes limp in her arms.

“Y/N I-”

“One second. Let me finish.” Y/N steps back and fully looks into his eyes. “And I know you love me too. You know why, angel? Because you tell me every single day. Every sweet nothing, all the random babbling about how I’m so sweet to you at any given time, gave me enough courage to say it right now.”

Jack looked like he could cry; Y/N didn’t get the chance to see it though, because of the soul crushing hug he just pulled her into.

“I love you so much more.”

“I might get dry as fuck during sex though.”

“Yeah? Wanna take me up on that?”

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #ellie writes 🙂‍↔��

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pedriscroquettes · 5 months ago

Text

𝐁𝐘𝐀𝐊 ✮ FLORIAN WIRTZ

summary. it’s kind of pathetic the way the two of you always come crawling back to each other.

warnings. emotional warfare. florian is down bad. light smut but heavy feelings. florian is lowkey pathetic in this. 18+

gabri speaks! unfortunately i am a florian girlie. anyways i’m back! heavily inspired by byak by alvaro diaz ft. rauw alejandro.

THE CROWD GROANS as florian hits the crossbar for the second time that night. the camera man makes sure to zoom in on him as his hands go up in frustration. florian stares at the goalkeeper in disbelief as he runs back into his position. another missed chance, another bad rating, another night of him stressing himself out. if there was one person in all of germany that night happy about his performance it was you.

your relationship with the player was controversial, what was once a promising relationship had turned sour, and quickly. the two of you had mutually decided that a committed relationship wasn’t in the cards for either of you. it had grown toxic to the point where you’d flirt with his teammates on purpose to provoke him which worked because you’d always end up in his bed and never in a foreign room. in fact you couldn’t quite remember when was the last time you had hooked up with anyone else.

meanwhile the brunette found himself staring at his phone on the ride home. chatter and music filled the team bus yet only one thing clouded his mind, did you watch the match? he was hoping a teasing message of yours would already be in his notifications, and when he saw there’s wasn’t one he sighed. as his teammates argued over their errors and mistakes he couldn’t help opening the messages between the two of you. the countless deleted messages and hidden pictures as well as the timed ones made him remember the many nights the two of you would spend on the phone.

the sound of your voice filled his head and when he saw you were online he immediately turned off his phone. was it possible you had finally gotten tired of your messed up relationship?

“bro, are you okay?” kai asked seeing the state his teammate was in. florian’s leg was bouncing and his demeanor had changed dramatically.

“i’m fine, thanks.” he offered him a curt smile before staring out the window again.

he wasn’t fine, he was far from fine, in fact he felt worse than he did after missing the goal. he’s not sure why but as soon as the team arrives back to the hotel he’s on his way to your flat. he makes a quick stop at the chinese place the two of you like beforehand making sure he doesn’t show up empty handed. it was already pathetic enough that he was showing up past midnight he could at least make up an excuse with the food.

he hopes the black hoodie he wore is enough to hide his identity from bystanders. although with all the pacing he does outside your hallway he hopes no one thinks he’s a robber. as he adjusts his hoodie he can’t help but think, why am i so nervous? after all it’s not the first time he knocks on your door at these hours.

“do you hate me?” is the first thing you hear as you open the door.

you study his frame and notice his disheveled hair and the training kit from the national team. you’ve never seen him so disorganized and upset — if that was the right word to use — you were amused. as his face grows concerned with your lack of answer you notice the takeout he has in his hands. the poor guy was either desperate or he had lost his mind. both of which could be true.

“what the fuck florian?” you look at him weird as you question him.

“you didn’t text me today.” he says as if that simple sentence answered your question.

“so what? i don’t text you every other week and you never show up at my apartment with food. what’s going on?” you’re even more confused than before.

“you always text me after a game.” he tries to explain like it’s the most logical thing ever.

you can’t help the half scoff and half laugh you let out. he couldn’t be serious right now. was he seriously at your apartment past midnight because he was freaking out over a message?

“okay seriously you need to get a girlfriend you’re starting to creep me out.” you joke.

“you say that while you’re wearing my jersey.” he l doesn’t even need you to turn around to know that you were wearing the leverkusen jersey he had gifted you months ago.

there’s a moment of silence between the two of you it’s entrancing. you stare at him and realize he’d made his way over to you immediately after the game. all because he was waiting for your message. meanwhile there’s something about you wearing his jersey for casually that makes you all more enchanting to him. there’s a mutual look between the two of you and in the blink of an eye his hands are on your waist, yours on his jaw, and his lips are on yours.

it’s poetic really the way he closes your door as he pushes you into your apartment and drops the takeout on your coffee table in the process. your hands already digging into his hair and his hold you tight as he carried you into your room. it’s all muscle memory. the darkness of your bedroom adds to the feeling of having him so close to you again.

“i think i-” he pauses not wanting to be so vulnerable in this predicament but you know what he wants to say. you freeze.

“florian you know i can’t. it didn’t work out the first time. i can’t do it again.” you grab his jaw making sure the two of you are making eye contact. his brown eyes captivate yours.

“i can’t either but i can’t live without you.” he whispers the end. “it will always be you.”

you drag his hand towards the waistband of your shorts. it would always be him too. the only person that consumed your every thoughts and the only person you were worried about getting hurt was him. always. you look into his eyes as he drags his fingers to your core and sigh as he begins to tease you. he’s also the only man you fantasize about.

“promise?” you ask him.

the moonlight barely allows you to see him fully but you catch the smirk on his face. the same one that had captivated you years ago at the bar. his fingers are so close to your needy hole. you can’t help but audibly gasp as he inserts them inside you causing an illicit groan from him. your nails dig into his shoulders as he starts fucking you with his digits. meanwhile he kisses you from your collarbone to your neck.

“i promise.” he whispers against your ear.

he pumps his fingers in and out of you slowly helping you reach your high. it was only fair you were treated right. it was small details like this that had you wondering why the two of you couldn’t just commit to each other. you’re distracted as he leaves marks on your neck and his fingers curve inside you. you can’t help the loud moans that leave your mouth as you reach your high. your hands dig into the sheets as you come around his fingers.

he continues kissing you as he begins to take his hoodie off. you’re quick to stop him before he begins undressing himself.

“do i need to remind you that you didn’t score today? you’re not getting any tonight.” you adjust your shorts.

“so you did watch the game then.” he wraps his arms around you pulling you closer to him.

“i always do.” you whisper as you cuddle into him.

that’s how you spend the rest of the night, snuggled into his body as it rains outside. it’s quite an intimate moment shared between the two of you. you’re not quite sure if you should be worried or content with the turn your relationship with florian took. you decide it’s rather late and with the way he holds you you don’t think much more. after all he promised and while you knew florian was many things he was not an oath breaker.

#pedriscroquettes comeback 😋#florian wirtz smut #florian wirtz x reader #florian wirtz fic #football smut #football imagine #football fic #gabri writes

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atomicladytimetravel · 1 year ago

Text

Quiet Type

Summary: Joel Miller doesn’t really care for small talk and he finally meets someone who respects that. Slow burn romance and PWP. Jackson era Joel, no mention of Ellie. Cannon game places mentioned but it’s HBO Joel.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. MDNI. Smut. Oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, light choking, pet names, some rough sex. Joel is really sweet.

I’m actually really proud of this one, I hope you guys like it!

Word count: 5,444

Joel Miller doesn’t really like people. With the exception of his brother Tommy and his wife Maria, Joel keeps to himself. He does his patrol, eats his meals (mostly alone) at the Tipsy Bison and goes home to his empty house. He likes it this way - or at least he likes to think he does.

Everything starts to change when you show up in Jackson. You were wounded, on the run from a group of raiders that ransacked your camp and took out half your group. The surviving half got split up as you fled the area, just trying to get out alive. You had run straight into Jackson’s patrol unit, hands in the air and begging for help.

“Stay right there, do not come any closer.”

It had come from who you would later find out to be Tommy Miller. You stopped where you were and plead your case with the group of people that had their guns trained on you.

“Please, I’m not sick. Just wounded. Raiders attacked my camp and I lost my group.”

Tommy instructed the dog at his side to sniff and you stood as still as possible as it circled you, smelling for signs of the cordycep infection. The dog returned to Tommy’s side, having found no trace of the illness.

“She’s fine, lower your guns.”

Your wound was nothing too serious; you had been grazed in the shoulder as you fled the camp, but you escaped otherwise unscathed. After a quick recovery, Tommy and Maria asked if you’d be willing to take patrol shifts. This is where you would meet Joel Miller for the first time.

After getting up at the ass crack of dawn, you get dressed and sling a pack with food and water over your shoulder. You meet Tommy at the stables and you see him talking with another man. He’s a little older, his hair a little more silver, but you can see a family resemblance - a brother, maybe a first cousin. You can’t deny that he’s ruggedly handsome, the kind of guy you would probably go for under different circumstances. He doesn’t look nearly as relaxed as Tommy.

“Ah, here she comes,” Tommy says as you approach the two. “This is my brother, Joel. He’ll be your patrol partner today.”

Joel nods in your direction, but says nothing. You’re pretty decent at reading people and, judging by Joel’s stiff body language and silent greeting, he’s not a people person. You nod in return, figuring that actually speaking would be a waste of time anyway. Tommy shows you which horse to take (his name is Toast) and you’re already up on the saddle when he turns to ask if you know how to ride.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I took lessons before the world went to shit.”

After making sure you know the rules, Tommy leaves you and Joel to it. You let Joel take the lead and the two of you ride out of Jackson silently. As a matter of fact, you do everything silently, save for when Joel is barking instructions at you. When you return, Tommy asks Joel how you did when he thinks you’re out of earshot.

“Fine,” Joel replies. “She didn’t get us killed and she doesn’t talk my fuckin’ ear off.”

Tommy laughs and claps his brother on the back. The corner of your lip twitches upward into a half smile as you walk away from the barn and to your house.

You end up being on patrol with Joel more often than not. You suspect it’s because you leave him alone and speak to him only when necessary. You don’t seek him out when off duty and if you do happen to see him, a curt nod is the most that’s ever exchanged. He likes it this way - or at least he likes to think he does.

——————

Joel might be a quiet man, but he is still a man with (mostly) working eyes. He takes notice of your shape, the way your ass moves when you walk and the way your smile lights up whatever room you’re in. He never gets to see that smile unless he happens to see you talking to other people. He likes to see you smile and, even though he would rather die than admit this to himself or anyone else, he wishes you would smile at him. Sometimes he wonders why you talk to everyone but him, but then he reminds himself that he doesn’t care because he likes it this way.

One morning, after a couple of months of silent patrols and nodded greetings, Joel actually speaks to you when you enter the stables.

“Hey,” he grunts, and that’s all he says. But it’s one word more than what’s usually spoken.

“Hey,” you reply, making brief eye contact. You’re a little surprised, but you don’t let him see. Much like a stray dog you might try to coax into letting you pet it, you don’t want to scare him off by getting too close too soon. Eventually, “hey” evolves into “mornin’”, but nothing past the initial greeting is ever said. You don’t push him, figuring if he ever wants to talk, he’ll say something.

One day, he does. His voice makes you jump just a little, not expecting him to be speaking in the moment. You’re walking through the Mountain View ski lodge and you’ve gotten to the point on patrol where Joel doesn’t need to instruct you anymore.

“You’re, uh…pretty quiet, huh?”

“Sorry?” You’re a little caught off guard by the question.

“You don’t talk much,” he clarifies. Your eyebrows knit together in a confused expression.

“That’s because you don’t seem like the kind of guy that likes to talk,” you shrug.

“I don’t.”

“Alright then. If you’re not interested in talking, I’m not gonna force you to Joel.”

That’s the first time you’ve ever said his name out loud in front of him. He curses himself mentally because he likes the way it sounds coming out of your mouth. He just looks at you, his turn to wear the confused expression. He’s not exactly used to people actually picking up on the fact that he doesn’t care for small talk.

“I’m pretty good at reading people,” you explain. “Your body language screams ‘leave me alone’. So I leave you alone.”

“Hmph…wish other people could pick up on that.”

You let out a short laugh through your nose, and that is the end of the first conversation you ever have with Joel Miller.

——————

One night, you find yourself dreaming of him. In the dream, you’re patrolling the ski lodge. Once you’ve cleared the place and there are no signs of danger, Joel holsters his gun and turns to you.

“C’mere,” he says, beckoning to you with his hand. You walk up to him and he grabs you by the waist, pulling you the rest of the way in. His eyes are dark with lust and he kisses you with those soft, supple looking lips. Things quickly get explicit and you wake up with a throbbing cunt, arousal pooling in your panties. You’re perplexed, never having experienced any feelings for Joel other than your initial recognition that he’s a handsome man. You chalk it up to being around him so often and brush it off, going about your morning as usual.

When you meet Joel in the stables, your stomach flutters momentarily when you lay eyes on him. You take a deep breath and shake the memory of the dream out of your head and you go in to saddle up Toast. You’re pleasantly surprised when Joel speaks as the horses trot off toward Teton County.

“So…uh…where you from?”

“You mean recently or before?”

“Before. I heard you tell Tommy you took riding lessons before.”

That was months ago. You’re honestly shocked he remembered that.

“Oh yeah. I’m from Dallas.”

“No shit,” he says, sounding surprised. “Me and Tommy are from Austin.”

“Well shit, what a small world.”

You smile at him and a tiny piece of the icy wall around his heart melts.

——————

“So Tommy, I hear you’re from Texas. Me too - Dallas.”

You’re sitting across from him and Maria at dinner. He looks up from his plate, confusion evident on his face.

“Where’d ya hear that?”

“Your brother told me,” you shrug, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“Joel just volunteered that information, huh?” he asks sarcastically.

“Not really. He asked me where I’m from. When I told him Dallas, he said y’all are from Austin.”

Tommy and Maria are both looking at you like you’d grown a second head. They glance at each other suspiciously and then back at you.

“Joel…asked you where you’re from?” Tommy asks incredulously. You grin and stab a piece of meat with your fork.

“Turns out if you just leave him alone, he gets curious.”

“What are you, some sort of witch?” he jokes, to which you laugh loudly.

“I just have good people skills.”

——————

Everything you and Joel learn about each other comes in increments through the micro conversations you have on patrol. You let him control when the conversation begins and when it ends. He doesn’t tell you, but he appreciates that. You never ask for more than what he volunteers and vice versa. It’s gotten to the point where he’ll talk to you at least once during patrol. He asks questions about what life was like before the outbreak and before you got to Jackson and he tells you a little about himself in return.

You know he was a contractor in Austin and that he, too, likes horses. He doesn’t like to talk much about how he lived after the outbreak before Jackson; he only says he’s not proud of some of the things he did to survive. He did tell you about how he and Tommy went their separate ways and it was years before Joel finally found him in Jackson.

Joel secretly looks forward to your little conversations. He finds that he actually likes being around you. He likes that you don’t prod and ask too many questions. He likes that you seem to be able to gauge when he’s ready to stop talking. He likes it when you walk ahead of him because the man in him can’t deny you have a fine ass. Truth be told, he just likes you, but that’s a feeling he’s not ready to deal with yet. He can’t deny his physical attraction to you, though. More often than not, he finds himself fucking his fist imagining it’s you wrapped around him instead of his hand.

You like him, too. You perk up when he speaks and it makes you feel warm and fuzzy to know you’re one of the few people he talks to. You can’t help but think about him when you’re lying in bed. You fantasize about him fucking you; you imagine he’s a little rough, a little dominant. You make yourself cum thinking about him whispering filthy things in your ear.

Sometimes you think you can feel the sexual tension between you two as you’re walking side by side on patrol. You’re certain you can feel his eyes on you when you take the lead. Part of you thinks that maybe, just maybe, he might like you. You don’t say anything for fear of losing what you already have.

——————

You fuck everything up on patrol one day. You’re in the library in Teton Village quietly weaving through the book cases while Joel does the same on the opposite side. You hear the telltale clicking and see an infected coming at Joel from his right side, but Joel doesn’t seem to hear it. He sees it right as it tackles him to the ground and he gets into a wrestling match with it.

“Hey!” you shout, turning the attention of the clicker on you. It leaps off of Joel and barrels in your direction, but you’re quick on the draw and you’re able to shoot it before it makes it to you. You rush over to Joel to make sure he isn’t hurt.

“Are you fuckin’ stupid?” he growls angrily, hoisting himself up off the ground.

“Umm, you’re fuckin’ welcome,” you respond, crossing your arms defiantly.

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed,” he seethes.

“I stopped you from getting killed! If that thing had bitten you, I would’ve had to shoot you, too,” you argued. “Besides, it’s dead, and we’re not. Isn’t that why we go in pairs?”

“Whatever,” he grumbles. “Just don’t do stupid shit like that again.”

——————

He doesn’t talk to you for almost a week - no little bursts of conversation throughout patrol, not even a greeting when you meet in the stables. You don’t know what you did that was so wrong, you had only been trying to help. You’re riding through Teton Village again and you relive the moment when you pass the library. Your anger at him for his outburst reignites, the fact that he won’t even speak to you fueling your rage. He senses your shift in mood and you’re about to open your mouth to tell him off when he speaks.

“I’m…sorry.”

You close your mouth and look at him. He sees that, not only are you angry, but there’s a little bit of hurt hiding in your eyes. Now he’s mad at himself.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you and I definitely shouldn’t have called you stupid. You probably saved my life and I need to thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome Joel. And thank you for the apology,” you say. Then you do something you wouldn’t normally do - you prod. “Why the hell did you get so pissed?”

He’s silent for a long while and you’re afraid you’ve fucked up again. You’re relieved when he speaks again, but the response you receive isn’t one you would have ever expected.

“You…scared me,” he admits. “I saw the clicker running towards you and I was afraid you were gonna get hurt while I was fuckin’ layin’ on the ground.”

“I was scared, too. It was coming right for you and you didn’t seem to hear it and it was too late for me to say anything before it attacked. I figured I had a better chance at killing it than you did.”

“You did the right thing,” he assures you. “I would’ve done the same for you.”

And he means it. He would face a room full of the things to save you. Having acknowledged that fact, he makes the decision to open up to you then.

“I’m mostly deaf in my right ear. That’s why I didn’t hear it.”

“Oh. Well that makes sense.”

You’re not really sure what else to say, other than to ask him what happened, but you don’t want to push him. If he wants you to know, he’ll tell you. And he does.

“I tried to take myself out right after the outbreak. My daughter died on outbreak day and it destroyed me.”

You gasp softly and a hand goes to your mouth in shock, partially because he’s telling you something so personal and partially because you feel so bad for him.

“Joel, that’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

He waves the apology off and continues.

“I missed somehow - obviously, because I’m still here - but it fucked up my hearing.”

You’re quiet for a little bit. You’re in disbelief that Joel willingly shared such an intimate detail about himself. In a soft voice, you finally say, “I’m glad you missed.”

He gives you a little smile and you fall back into a comfortable silence for quiet a while. On the way back to Jackson, he surprises you again.

“Hey…wanna eat dinner with me tonight?”

“Sure, I’d love to,” you say with a grin.

You don’t ask him if it’s a date for the fear of him taking it back. It took almost a year and a brush with death for him to ask you to do anything besides patrol with him and you weren’t about to risk messing it up.

When you walk into the Tipsy Bison, you see him sitting at his usual table in the corner, eyes flitting around the room nervously. You’re glad you decided to dress up a little, throwing on a skirt and one of the nicer tops you have; he’s dressed in a button up flannel and clean jeans, his hair slicked back. Your cunt throbs just looking at him.

“Oh god,” you think to yourself, “I didn’t think he could get any hotter, but damn.”

Tommy catches sight of you and calls your name, waving you to his table. You wave at him but continue walking towards Joel.

“Sorry Tommy, I have plans.”

He watches you take a seat across from Joel and pauses mid bite as his brother actually smiles at another human being. Maria nudges him and he looks away quickly.

“Sorry I’m late,” you apologize as you sit down. “I couldn’t decide what to wear.”

“You look really pretty,” he says. You feel your cheeks heat up and you hear Tommy loudly whisper, “did he just say she looks really pretty??”

You and Joel glare at Tommy simultaneously and the younger Miller puts his hands up in surrender. You giggle when Maria chastises him and Joel doesn’t know when he’s ever heard a prettier sound.

“I really like your hair like that,” you say, turning your attention back to Joel. “You look really nice.”

It’s his turn to blush now. You think it’s absolutely adorable.

“Thanks. I uh, I wasn’t too sure what to wear either.”

He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, the material of his flannel tightening around his bicep. You have to will yourself not to drool over the muscle flexing underneath. He’s trying to shake his nerves. It’s been…fuck, it’s been over twenty years since he’s been on a date, back when restaurants and movie theaters were still a thing. Wait, did he ever clarify that this is a date? Before he can say anything, you speak up.

“Can I ask you a question Joel?”

“Go ahead sweetheart.”

He doesn’t know where he got the confidence to say that. It makes your heart skip a beat and your stomach do a backflip.

“Is this a date?”

He chuckles heartily.

“Yes darlin’, this is a date.”

——————

Your first date with Joel goes exceptionally well. You both relax and you have a full blown conversation, laughing and joking with each other and acting like nobody was staring at the two of you. Nobody in Jackson had seen Joel happy, probably ever. You leave the Tipsy Bison together and you both ignore how everyone’s heads turn to watch you leave. He walks you to your front door like a true southern gentleman.

You stare at each other for a long moment, and then you both move in for a kiss at the same time. You grab the front of his shirt and reach behind you to turn the door knob; you pull him into your house without breaking the kiss. You push him onto your couch and he looks up at you with admiration as you straddle his lap.

“You sure you wanna do this?” he asks between kisses.

“I’ve been sure since I walked into the Tipsy Bison and saw how fuckin’ hot you look.”

He growls, deep and throaty, and it rumbles through his chest; he palms your ass underneath your skirt, squeezing roughly. His tongue is in your mouth and your hands are in his hair, ruining the slicked back style. His lips move to your jaw bone, then to your neck where he sucks harshly. There’s going to be a mark there for sure, but neither of you care. You both want the whole town to know Joel Miller marked you as his.

“I think about you all the fuckin’ time,” he confesses into your skin, his breath against your neck making you tingle. “Not just about this. In general.”

His words are sweet and they make you feel as though you could explode with joy. You smooth your hand down the back of his hair as he buries his face into your cleavage, kissing the exposed tops of your breasts.

“I think about you, too. I really like you, Joel.”

He looks up at you and smiles, his hand coming up to cradle your face. He uses his thumb to rub your cheekbone and he kisses you softly.

“I really like you, too.”

You smile and put your hand over his. You remove it from your face and kiss his palm before placing it over one of your breasts.

“Do you ever think about me like this?” you ask as you begin to grind your hips on him. His breath hitches but he recovers quickly, kneading your breast over your shirt while his other hand squeezes your hip.

“How could I not? Got a gorgeous fuckin’ thing like you ridin’ next to me almost every day, shakin’ your ass when you walk in front of me.”

You giggle, your hands moving to his chest to unbutton his flannel.

“I had a dream about you once,” you tell him as your fingers slowly work his buttons. “We were in the ski lodge. You kissed me and then you laid me down and fucked me on one of the couches. I was so wet when I woke up.”

“Baby girl,” he groans. “So fuckin’ hot. Do you touch yourself thinkin’ about me, hmm?”

You’re finished unbuttoning his shirt now and you push it off his arms, revealing his toned biceps.

“All the time,” you respond, dragging your nails lightly down his bare chest. His lips crash against yours again in a needy, desperate kiss. He breaks it just long enough to pull your shirt over your head and then he wraps his arms around you, his touch cool against your burning skin.

“Let’s see if I can still do this,” he says, his mouth moving against yours.

He grabs the clasp of your bra with one hand and, with one flick of his fingers, your bra unclasps and hangs loosely off your shoulders.

“Damn, that was impressive. And very hot.”

He chuckles and slides your bra off your arms, tossing it carelessly to the side. He does this without breaking eye contact and he presses another kiss to your lips before admiring your naked breasts.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he says, cupping them in his hands. He rolls your nipples between his fingers and your head falls back, a soft moan escaping your throat.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom, yeah?” he suggests, his nose brushing your exposed throat. He stands with you still on his lap and you wrap your legs around him.

“Mmm, a big strong man,” you tease, squeezing his biceps. He laughs through his nose and carries you to your room, tossing you gently on the bed. You giggle softly when your back hits the mattress. You sit up on your elbows and watch with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as he comes out of his jeans. His cock is perfect. It’s big, but not big enough to be intimidating, and it’s rock hard.

He gets to his knees on the mattress and tugs your skirt off your hips, your panties going with it. You’re now completely on display for each other and neither of you can stop staring. He’s fit but a little soft around the middle; it drives you absolutely wild. He thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“You are so god damn beautiful,” he says softly. You smile up at him.

“Come kiss me, you gorgeous fuckin’ man.”

He does, his tongue licking inside your mouth. He sucks on your tongue and you moan into the kiss. Your hips rise to meet his, your cunt desperate for some kind of contact.

“Patience baby girl,” he coos, pushing your hips back down. “I wanna take my time with you. Been dreamin’ about this for a while.”

He kisses your neck again, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin. He presses open mouthed kisses to your chest before sucking your nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the hardening bud. You’re absolutely soaking now and you can feel arousal sliding down your thigh.

“Joel…my god…please,” you breathe.

“Shhhh, let me play baby. I’m gonna make you feel so good, I promise.”

He switches to your other breast and you’re sure you’re going to explode before he touches you. Your clit is throbbing and you’re desperate for his touch. He takes his time, finding the most sensitive parts of your body and kissing, sucking, biting. You feel like you’re being worshipped.

“Does this turn you on?” you ask breathlessly. “Because, fuck, it turns me on.”

“What, touching your beautiful fuckin’ body like this? Absolutely,” he assures you. “My cock’s hard enough to cut glass right now.”

You both laugh a little bit and you’re reassured that he’s enjoying himself. He spreads your legs into the butterfly position and settles onto his stomach, his head between your legs. He kisses your pubic mound and then spreads you open with two fingers.

“Mmm, look at this pretty pussy. She’s jus’ fuckin’ soaked baby. You’re dripping onto the fuckin’ sheets. Can I taste it?”

“Please,” you manage to squeak out.

He kisses your clit and you gasp. He blows softly on the area and you moan, your hole clenching around nothing.

“Oh, she likes that,” he teases. He massages your clit with the tip of his tongue and a high pitched, breathy moan falls from your lips. Finally, some relief. His tongue feels so good, swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves. All you can do is pant and moan as he buries his tongue into you.

“God, you got the sweetest fuckin’ pussy.”

He wastes no time diving back in, moving his head from side to side. He laps at your cunt and you can feel the buildup of pleasure getting ready to release.

“Fuck, Joel, I’m gonna cum,” you warn. This only spurs him on and he sucks hard at your clit. That pushes you over the edge and your hips rise as your orgasm hits. You let out a long whine of his name and he only stops when your hips meet the mattress again.

“Good job sweet girl,” he praises. “Let’s see if you can take another.”

He doesn’t wait for you to answer before he’s between your legs again, alternating between licking and sucking your clit. Your hand is in his hair, keeping his face between your legs because you’ll take whatever this man decides to give you. You notice that his hips are rutting into the mattress; he’s just as desperate for release as you are but his priority is you. You feel your impending release and you’re cumming before you can properly voice it.

“Oh god…I’m…f-fuck - cumming, I’m cumming,” you wail. He doesn’t stop when you’ve come down and the feeling of overstimulation makes you scoot back from his mouth. He wraps his arms under your thighs and pulls you back to him.

“C’mere baby, give me another. You can do it.”

You breathe in deeply and exhale through your nose and you relax into his touch again. This time, he slides two fingers into your hole, pumping in and out as he laps at your clit. He hooks his fingers and your eyes fly open as his hits that spongy spot in your walls.

“O-oh god don’t stop,” you pant. He pumps his fingers faster, curling them with every thrust.

“Oh yeah baby, you’re so close. I can feel you clenching around my fingers. Listen to you making those pretty sounds. Let go for me pretty thing. Cum for me.”

A few more strokes of his fingers and you’re coming undone. You cry out his name, gripping the sheets until your fingers hurt. He kisses the insides of your thighs softly.

“That’s it baby, you did so good f’me.”

He sits up on his knees and takes his cock in his hand. You watch as he strokes it, the sight stoking the fire in your belly once more. You need him, need to be full of him.

“You want my cock, pretty girl?” he asks, as though reading your mind.

“Please…,” you utter pleadingly. He settles himself between your legs and drags his cock through your folds. You both moan as he slides in slowly, pushing all the way to the hilt.

“God, I jus’ wanna fuckin’ rail you,” he says through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ perfect pussy. Gotta go slow though.”

“No, rail me. I can take it.”

“Baby if I rail you right now I won’t last. Let me go slow for a minute and then I’ll destroy this little fuckin’ pussy, yeah?”

“Oh god, yes,” you mewl. He takes his time, sliding in and out of you slowly. He enjoys watching how you suck him back in, your arousal making his cock shine.

“She’s so wet for me baby,” he whimpers, and you think it’s the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever heard. “Oh fuck, your pussy feels so good.”

He picks up speed a little and you wrap your legs around him. He rests his hands on either side of you, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His tip hits your g-spot with every thrust and you moan and whimper pathetically.

“Joel, just - fuck, just like that. Gonna make me cum so hard.”

“Fuckin’ cum for me baby girl,” he groans. He reaches between you and rubs your clit with his thumb. The extra stimulation sends you reeling and you’re clawing at his back, babbling about how hard he’s making you cum.

He pulls out and flips you into your stomach, pulling you back by your hips. He slams back into you all the way. He thrusts into you over and over, railing you just like he promised. At this point, you’re certain you can be heard by anyone outside but you’re beyond caring. All you can do is cry out for Joel as he continues slamming into you.

“Yeah, keep clenching around my cock, dirty fuckin’ girl. So tight f’me baby, fuck.”

He lands a smack on your ass cheek and it makes you cum again without warning, eyes rolling back.

“‘m cumming Joel,” you mumble. Your body quakes with pleasure as he pounds into you relentlessly.

“God fuckin’ damn baby girl, you take this fuckin’ cock. Take it like my good fuckin’ girl.”

He’s lost in the way you feel, hips slamming into you so hard you’re actually moving forward on the bed. Deep, guttural growls rumble from his chest.

“One more time baby,” he pants. “Need you to cum o-one more time.”

He pulls you up so that your back is against his chest. He puts his lips to your ear and kisses the shell of it, his hand cuffing your throat.

“You’re gonna cum again for me baby, then I’m gonna fuckin’ paint you with my cum.” His voice is low in your ear and he applies light pressure to your throat. His free hand reaches down to rub your clit. “Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours baby. All yours,” you whisper.

“That’s fuckin’ right. Mine. Cum for me baby, I wanna feel you.”

With a few more thrusts, you cum around him one last time, the cry you let out slightly strangled by his hand around your throat. He pulls out and jerks himself a few times before you feel ropes of cum splash against your back and ass. He rests his head on your shoulder as he catches his breath and you reach around to run your fingers through his hair.

“Holy hell woman. That was…”

“…fucking incredible,” you finish for him. He breaths put a “yeah” in agreement and kisses your shoulder. “Stay here, let me clean you up.”

He finds a wash cloth and wets it in the bathroom sink. He comes back and gently cleans his spend off you. He lays down with you and spoons you, kissing any part of you he can reach.

“Was that really okay? Was I too rough?” he asks.

“It was way more than okay. That was amazing - and I like it a little rough. Definitely do more of the choking.”

“Noted,” he chuckles softly.

“Will you stay?” you ask, and he doesn’t even have to consider his answer.

“Of course.”

#joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #the last of us #tlou hbo #tlou series #tlou smut

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wolvietxt · 18 days ago

Text

𝓭ay 𝓯ourteen.

daryl dixon and mixed signals.

you’d gotten used to daryl’s rough edges over time. there was a certain comfort in knowing what to expect, even if that often meant dealing with his gruffness. but lately, he’d been different - quieter, more distant. whenever you saw him, there was hardly more than a grunt of acknowledgment before he’d be off somewhere else, hunting or keeping watch. it felt like something had shifted, and you weren’t sure why.

you kept your distance, figuring if he needed space, you’d give it to him. after all, everyone was dealing with their own struggles at the prison. you kept yourself busy, helping with the chores and making yourself useful wherever you could. but when you noticed how little he seemed to care whether you were around or not, it started to hurt more than you wanted to admit.

days turned into a week, and by then, you could barely remember the last time you’d had a real conversation with him. he was always somewhere else, either physically or mentally. you found yourself hesitating to approach him, not wanting to deal with another one of his curt replies. you told yourself it was just how he was - he’d always been a bit standoffish - but it was hard not to take it personally when he seemed to be avoiding you entirely.

one afternoon, you caught sight of him by the gates, checking the perimeter. the sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows across the yard. taking a deep breath, you decided to approach. maybe you’d been reading too much into things, and if you just talked to him, you’d realise it was all in your head.

“hey,” you called out, walking up beside him. “haven’t seen much of you lately.”

daryl didn’t look at you. his eyes stayed on the treeline, his expression as unreadable as ever. “been busy,” he muttered.

“yeah, i figured,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light. “but, y’know, we could still talk every now and then. just because we’re all busy doesn’t mean we have to shut each other out.”

“i ain’t shuttin’ anyone out,” he said, his voice a little sharper than you expected. “got things to do. don’t need to be chit-chattin’ all the time.”

you took a step back, surprised by the edge in his tone. “i wasn’t saying that. just... thought maybe we were friends.”

that got his attention. his gaze flicked over to you, brows drawn together in a frown. “we are,” he said, like the word was unfamiliar on his tongue. “just ‘cause i ain’t around doesn’t mean i ain’t still... y’know, here.”

“could’ve fooled me,” you shot back before you could stop yourself. “you’ve barely said two words to me in days.”

he turned fully to face you then, his expression hardening. “been dealin’ with stuff,” he said. “you ain’t the only one who’s got things goin’ on.”

“i never said i was,” you replied, your own frustration building. “but if you’re gonna act like i’m just some inconvenience, then maybe i should stop trying to be around.”

“who said you’re an inconvenience?” he snapped, his voice rising. “damn, you always gotta make things so complicated.”

you flinched, the words hitting deeper than they should have. “i’m not trying to make things complicated, daryl. you’re the one sending mixed signals. one minute, you’re fine, and the next, you’re acting like i’m a nuisance. what am i supposed to think?”

he exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “i don’t know,” he admitted, his tone softer now. “just... things are different. i’m different. don’t mean it’s got anything to do with you.”

“it feels like it does,” you said quietly, the anger giving way to a dull ache. “i thought we were closer than this.”

“we are,” he said again, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as you. “i ain’t... good at this kinda thing.”

you sighed, your shoulders slumping. “daryl, i’m not asking you to be perfect. just... don’t push me away. i care about you, and it’s hard to do that if you’re always keeping me at arm’s length.”

his jaw tightened, and for a moment, he seemed to struggle with whatever he wanted to say next. “i’m tryin',” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “ain’t used to people givin’ a damn.”

“well, get used to it,” you said, your voice gentler now. “i’m not going anywhere.”

there was a long pause, the air thick with unspoken words. daryl looked at you, and for once, there was no anger, no frustration - just a quiet kind of confusion, like he didn’t know why you cared, but he didn’t want you to stop. “sorry,” he mumbled, his voice low. “for actin’ like a jerk.”

you managed a small smile. “it’s okay. just... maybe let me in a little, yeah?”

he nodded, a hesitant movement that seemed to cost him more than it should. “yeah,” he said, almost like a promise. “i’ll... i’ll try.”

you reached out and gently touched his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles. he didn’t pull away, just watched you with that same uncertain expression. it was a start, at least.

over the next week, things got a little better. daryl wasn’t exactly chatty, but he wasn’t avoiding you either. he’d linger a little longer when you’d talk, offer a gruff “good job” if you did something useful, and once, when he found you struggling with a heavy load, he stepped in without a word, taking it from you like it was nothing.

it wasn’t much, but it was something. still, there were moments when he’d pull back again, just when you thought he was starting to open up. it was like two steps forward, one step back, and you couldn’t tell if he was making progress or if he was just... stuck.

one evening, you found him out by the edge of the woods, crouched down as he checked a snare. the light was fading, and there was a chill in the air, but you walked over anyway, determined to keep trying.

“catch anything?” you asked, crouching beside him.

“nothin’ yet,” he replied, not looking at you.

“figured,” you said, glancing at him. “you okay?”

he shrugged. “fine.”

“you sure?” you pressed, watching him carefully. “you’ve seemed... off.”

he stilled, his jaw clenching. “ain’t nothin’,” he said, but there was something in his tone that gave him away. you could tell he wasn’t being honest.

“daryl,” you said softly, “if something’s wrong, you don’t have to keep it to yourself. i’m here for you, you know.”

“i know,” he grunted, finally glancing at you, his gaze flickering with something unreadable. “just... ain’t used to talkin’ about stuff.”

“then don’t talk,” you said, your hand resting on his shoulder. “just... let me be here with you.”

for a moment, he didn’t respond, just kept his eyes on the snare in front of him. then, with a slow exhale, he straightened up, his shoulder brushing against yours. “fine,” he said quietly. “but don’t expect me to get all... sappy.”

you smiled at that, a little relieved that he hadn’t pushed you away this time. “wouldn’t dream of it,” you said lightly.

as the days passed, you continued to see glimpses of that softer side of him, though it was still wrapped up in that familiar gruffness. you caught him watching you sometimes, a look in his eyes like he was trying to figure something out. you didn’t push him, just let things be, and hoped he’d come around in his own time.

but then, just as you thought you were getting somewhere, he snapped again. it was over something small, some stupid disagreement about whether or not to go on a run for supplies. he was short with you, his words cutting sharper than usual, and it took everything in you not to snap back.

afterward, you found yourself retreating to your cell, wrapping your arms around yourself as you fought off the sting of rejection. you’d tried so hard to be patient, to give him space, but it felt like you’d been walking in circles. why did it always have to be so hard with him?

that night, you found yourself wandering out to the courtyard, needing some air. you hadn’t expected to run into him, but there he was, leaning against the fence with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the darkened landscape.

“what’re you doin’ out here?” he asked when he noticed you, his voice softer than before.

“could ask you the same thing,” you replied, not bothering to mask the hurt in your tone.

he shifted, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “look, about earlier,” he started, his voice gruff, “i didn’t mean to - ”

“yeah, i know,” you interrupted, not wanting to hear another half-hearted apology. “you didn’t mean to snap, you didn’t mean to push me away, you didn’t mean to make me feel like i don’t matter. i get it.”

daryl stiffened at your words, his jaw working as if he was trying to form a response but couldn't find the right one. his gaze dropped to the ground, and he let out a frustrated sigh. “ain’t like that,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “you do matter.”

“then why does it feel like you’re always pushing me away?” you asked, the hurt bleeding through in your voice. “it’s like one minute you’re letting me in, and the next, you’re shutting me out. i don’t know how to keep up with you.”

he glanced up, his eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something vulnerable beneath the gruff exterior. “i ain’t good at... keepin’ people close,” he admitted, his voice rough. “always figured it was better to keep my distance.”

“better for who?” you asked, taking a step closer. “because it sure as hell doesn’t feel better for me.”

he rubbed the back of his neck, frustration evident in the tightness of his movements. “for you,” he mumbled. “don’t need someone like me weighin’ you down.”

you shook your head, your chest tightening at the realisation. “daryl, i’m not here because i need someone to make my life easier. i’m here because... because i care about you, okay? and it hurts when you act like you don’t care back.”

he was silent for a long moment, the weight of your words hanging in the air between you. finally, he let out a breath, his shoulders sagging slightly. “don’t know how to do this,” he said, the words coming out almost like a confession. “bein’ close to people... it don’t come natural to me.”

you took another step forward, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “then let me help you figure it out,” you said softly. “we don’t have to have it all figured out right now. just... don’t push me away.”

he looked down at your hand on his arm, his gaze softening in a way that was rare for him. “sorry,” he said again, his voice gruff but sincere. “for actin’ like an ass.”

you managed a small smile, relief washing over you. “it’s okay,” you said. “just... try not to do it so much.”

a quiet chuckle escaped him, and he shook his head. “can’t promise that,” he admitted, though there was a hint of a smile on his lips now. “but i’ll try.”

you stood there for a moment, the silence stretching between you but feeling different now - less strained, more... comfortable. when you looked up at him, he was already watching you, his expression a little softer than usual.

“thanks,” you said quietly, not really knowing what else to say.

“don’t gotta thank me,” he replied, his tone gruff but lacking its usual edge. “just... don’t give up on me, alright?”

“never crossed my mind,” you said, and you meant it.

as the weeks passed, things continued to shift between you and daryl. there were still moments when he’d get snappy, but now, he’d usually apologize afterward, albeit in his own awkward way. sometimes, you’d catch him looking at you like he was still trying to figure out why you bothered sticking around, and you’d give him a reassuring smile to let him know you weren’t going anywhere.

one afternoon, as you sat in the courtyard, patching up an old jacket, you noticed daryl nearby, working on his bike. he kept glancing over at you, like he was debating whether or not to come over. eventually, he seemed to make up his mind, dropping his tools and walking over with his usual guarded expression.

“you busy?” he asked, his voice gruff.

“not really,” you replied, setting the jacket aside. “what’s up?”

he shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable. “just... wondered if you’d wanna go on a run with me tomorrow,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “could use the help.”

you raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at your lips. “are you asking me to come along because you actually want my help, or because you’re trying to make up for being a jerk last week?”

he scoffed, but there was no real annoyance in it. “don’t push your luck,” he grumbled. “could just as easily ask someone else.”

“i’m kidding,” you said quickly, standing up. “i’d love to go.”

his expression softened, and he gave a short nod. “good,” he muttered. “be ready at first light.”

the next morning, you were up before dawn, and by the time daryl arrived, you were already waiting by the gates with your gear. he gave you a quick nod of approval before leading the way into the woods, his pace brisk but not hurried. you followed closely, glad for the chance to spend time with him outside the walls of the prison.

the run went smoothly, with only a couple of walkers to take down along the way. it wasn’t until you were on the way back that daryl finally spoke, his tone more casual than you’d heard it in a while. “you did good out there,” he said, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“thanks,” you replied, a little surprised by the compliment. “you weren’t too bad yourself.”

he huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. “don’t get cocky,” he said, but there was a faint smile on his lips.

as you neared the prison, the conversation tapered off, and you found yourself wondering if things would go back to how they were before - if he’d retreat behind those walls he’d built around himself. but as you reached the gates, daryl turned to you, his expression more open than you’d ever seen it.

“thanks for comin’ along,” he said, his voice low. “meant a lot.”

“anytime,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “you know where to find me.”

he nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small, almost imperceptible smile before he turned and walked away. you watched him go, a quiet warmth spreading through your chest as you realised that maybe, just maybe, things were starting to change.

over the next few days, daryl was around more often, seeking you out for small tasks or just sitting nearby while you worked. it was a subtle shift, but it felt significant. there were still moments when he’d snap at you, but now, it was easier to brush off, knowing that the softness was still there underneath.

one evening, you were sitting by the fire, lost in thought, when daryl came over and sat beside you. “whatcha thinkin’ about?” he asked, his tone gruff but curious.

“nothing much,” you replied. “just... glad you’re here.”

he gave a quiet grunt in response, but you could see the way his eyes softened at your words. “yeah,” he said after a moment, “me too.”

you turned to him, a small smile on your lips. “i think you’re getting better at this whole ‘being close to people’ thing,” you teased.

he rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in them. “don’t push it,” he said, though his voice was light.

“fine,” you said, leaning back and letting the warmth of the fire wash over you. “but i’m proud of you, daryl.”

he looked at you, something like gratitude flickering in his gaze, and for a moment, there was nothing but quiet understanding between you. then he looked away, his usual gruffness returning. “you’re somethin’ else,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

“guess that makes two of us,” you replied, nudging him playfully.

he didn’t respond, but a small, genuine smile graced his face.

the fire continued to crackle, casting flickering shadows across daryl. he was still beside you, closer than he’d been in a while, his usual distance melting away in the warmth of the moment. you couldn’t help but feel a quiet thrill at how his defences seemed to be crumbling bit by bit.

“you know,” you said softly, turning your head to look at him, “you’re not as tough as you let on.” there was a teasing lilt in your voice, but it held a hint of something deeper.

daryl’s eyes flicked to yours, narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge what you meant. “what’s that s’posed to mean?” he muttered, though there was no bite in his tone.

“just that... you’re not fooling anyone,” you continued, your voice dipping lower. “especially not me.”

he held your gaze, something sparking in his eyes that hadn’t been there before - a quiet intensity that seemed to draw you in. you could feel the air between you growing heavier, charged with an unspoken question neither of you dared to voice.

“yeah?” he murmured, his voice gruff, but there was a softness underneath, a trace of uncertainty that told you he was letting his guard down just enough to let you in.

you leaned in slightly, closing the small distance between you, your gaze flickering to his lips before meeting his eyes again. “yeah,” you whispered. “you’re kind of sweet when you want to be, you know.”

he scoffed, but it came out almost breathless. “ain’t sweet,” he grumbled, though his eyes betrayed the way his breath hitched when you got closer.

“prove it,” you challenged, your voice barely audible, your breath mingling with his.

his expression tightened with something you couldn’t quite place - part hesitation, part longing, part frustration. then, in a quick movement, he cupped the back of your neck, pulling you in, his lips crashing against yours with a roughness that sent a shiver down your spine.

his kiss was demanding, almost desperate, as if he’d been holding back for far too long. his calloused fingers tangled in your hair, tugging you closer as if he couldn’t stand the thought of letting you go. you responded just as fiercely, your hands fisting in his shirt, feeling the solid warmth of him under your touch.

when he pulled back, it was only for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as his breath came out ragged. “this what you wanted?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble, the roughness edged with something raw and unguarded.

“maybe,” you breathed, your lips grazing his again, teasingly light. “or maybe i just wanted to see if you’d actually do it.”

a growl rumbled in his throat, and he kissed you again, harder this time, his grip on you firm but not harsh, like he was trying to convey everything he didn’t know how to say. the heat between you intensified, and you found yourself arching into him, his hands trailing down to your waist, pulling you even closer.

it wasn’t just a kiss; it was a silent promise, a raw confession of everything he’d kept bottled up. and when he finally drew back, his lips swollen and his gaze burning with something deep, you knew this was a turning point - one you wouldn’t come back from.

“damn troublemaker,” he muttered, but the words were rough with affection. his thumb brushed over your cheek, a surprisingly gentle gesture that sent your heart racing all over again.

“guess that makes two of us,” you whispered, echoing your earlier words as you leaned in to steal one last kiss, savouring the taste of him and the feeling of finally breaking through the walls he’d built.

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