#like on both parts neither of us want more than hookups and that’s so great lol

[angelgendered]

Hrrrhrhr this morning I had a phone call with the guy I’m sorta kinda seeing if you count hookups to be seeing each other and we were talking about gender neutral terms for honourifics like say Dom/me is one which is usually gendered right? So anyway he wants to try being less dominant so we were chatting about nicknames and pet names and honorifics for each other and so on and he said ‘how’d you feel about something like ‘your grace’? Or ‘my liege’? I like both of those’

And the sound I made was unreal. I usually get just like sir or even daddy a couple of times I nm y life but I’ve never felt gender euphoria more than I have since he decided to call me ‘your grace’ djdbbdhsh

For the record I’m calling him Beloved for now; just until we can work out what he enjoys as a submissive partner then I might change it up.

[bratkook]

almost. (m) jjk.

not yet, almost, right now

pairing. jungkook x reader genre. fluff, baby angst, smut word count. 6.4k warnings. two idiots!!, pining, masturbation (m. and f.), use of vibrator, accidental voyeurism?,  more feelings come to light!! summary. jungkook tries to be the best wingman he could be in your new venture after your breakup. he could do it, right? note. part two of not yet, some more feelings are exposed, please don’t hate oc she is but a pendeja that doesn’t see the obvious feelings jungkook has but she has good intentions i promise<3 there will most likely be a final part,,if you guys are into it lmao okie bye

The cool summer breeze flows around you as you’re sitting under the shade, eyes focused on the chaos of runny yolk and hashbrowns that is your breakfast. Jungkook on the other hand, is focused on you. His signature yellow shades block out the sun reflecting from passing cars, concealing his eyes just enough for you to not see him blatantly staring at you while you stuff your face. 

The charmed smile he has falters slightly when you look directly at him, hashbrown lingering by your lip as you repeat his name. “Sorry, what?”

Your brows come together as you smile at his zoned out state, something you had grown fond of in the years of knowing him, always enjoying the small dazed look that graced his face whenever he was lost in his thoughts. His lips push out slightly in question, curious eyes wondering just what you could have been asking him. 

“I was saying that I think I’m giving up on crushes and love.” You say it so easily, mind made up as you grin at him before continuing to shovel hashbrowns into your mouth, only pausing to take a sip of your iced coffee. 

Jungkook tries his best to seem unaffected, nodding along in interest as he takes a steady bite of his own food. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, taking a look around at the people surrounding you: friends having breakfast together and snapping photos, couples feeding each other food with smiles on their faces, a lone man with his dog perched on the seat across from his while he worked on his computer. You briefly wonder if all of them, even the dog, have better luck with love than you do. 

“I think I’m cursed,” you continue. “All of my exes have been assholes, and I’ve always been too blind to see it until it’s over and I’m left crying over Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams.”

“Maybe you’re just looking for love in the wrong places,” Jungkook shrugs, internally screaming because he’s who you should be looking at if you wanted love. 

Not to toot his own horn, but Jungkook liked to think he was a good guy, a great boyfriend even. His previous track record of relationships could attest to that, all of them ending on mutual terms, still friendly and civil with each other. He’s almost certain if there was a Yelp page for him it would be at least 4.5 stars with comments raving about how great he is, even little anecdotal touches about how he always gave away his hoodies or offered to cook breakfast. 

He was a god damn catch, why couldn’t you see that?

“Maybe prince charming is a lot closer than you think,” he grumbles out, stabbing his omelette with a little more force than necessary, fork clanking against the plate. And when you gasp in realization he freezes, slowly looking back up at you and seeing the way your eyes widen. 

“Wait, maybe you’re right!” Your hand shoots across the table, gripping onto his forearm and it sends a shock throughout him, skin tingling at your touch. “You know that coffee shop below our building? That cute barista always puts a heart next to my name. Do you think I should ask for his number?”

Jungkook blinks once, slowly twirls his fork in his hand and blinks again before staring up at the sky, mentally asking why he couldn’t just go out and say it. “Hm, I don’t think you should.“

With a defeated sigh you retract your hand, slumping back into your seat and grabbing your iced coffee once more, stirring the straw and ice around as you nod. “True. What if he feels obligated to give it to me just because he doesn’t want to get fired in case I go all Karen on his ass.”

That wasn’t why Jungkook had said not to, but sure, that works too, so he hums along. 

“I bet he draws hearts on all the other girls cups too.” You huff, playfully wiping a tear under your eye with a smile. 

“I’ve actually—“

“You know what I—“

You both freeze mid sentence, Jungkook’s cheeks tinted a light pink as he stutters on his words, wide eyes staring at you as if he had caught himself before you cut him off. But as you’re about to tell him to go on, he waves you off and urges you to speak first. 

“I was just gonna say that maybe I should go through that wild phase people usually go through after breakups.”

He sets his silverware down on the plate and sips his water, giving you an odd look. “Wild phase? Like you wanna dye your hair red and get bangs?”

“No,” you cackle, ruffling a hand through your own hair as you picture yourself with that combination. “I should just go out and hook up with people. I feel like I’ve either been in a relationship or entirely single, so it could be fun right?”

“Uh, maybe...” he trails off, rolling his lips together in thought, not exactly fond of hearing you say that when he had felt the confession about to roll off his tongue. He takes a slow breath, trying to see this from a neutral point, the point of a supportive friend wanting to help you get over a breakup. 

“How do you go about it?”

“Me?” he chokes, pointing at his chest as if there was magically some other person you could be addressing. 

“Yes, you. Need I remind you, we share a wall between our beds.” You roll your eyes, but the smile on your face shows that you’re speaking of this lightly, not entirely annoyed by the fact that you had heard Jungkook during his own fair share of hook ups. 

He’s not ashamed of it, but considering he never really brought up being able to hear you, he thought you’d pretend to never hear him. It wasn’t too often that he had a girl over, the number of hookups only increasing after you got with Hajoon and loosely cut ties with Jungkook. But from what you had heard—and seen thanks to your nosey self looking through peep holes once they left—it was very rarely the same girl. 

So to you, Jungkook was a pro at the art of hookups. 

“Right, sorry,” he grimaces, a sheepish smile on his lips as he wonders just how many times his activities kept you up at night. 

“It’s fine, consider us even.” A teasing laugh follows your statement, enjoying the flustered look on his face, how his cheeks get even darker in embarrassment. Jungkook was used to the two of you talking like this, neither of you having a filter especially when it came to sexual aspects, but he hadn’t had a conversation like this since before you got with Hajoon. It would take some getting used to again. 

“So, give me the tips. Where do you find people?”

Jungkook leans back into his chair, arms stretching out on either side of him, short sleeves of his black tee bunching up and revealing more of his tattoos and the rippling of his muscles. With a small laugh he rakes his hand through his fluffy hair, giving you a small smile. “Honestly? Anywhere. I’ve gotten girl’s numbers at the gym and at coffee shops, but bars are the best bet for something quick.”

“Ugh, fuck you and your pretty privilege.” 

“What?” he guffaws, smiling wide and showing you his adorable smile as he laughs loudly, not caring about the attention he draws to your table. He doesn’t even realize how the table full of girls is now trying to discreetly stare at him, because his eyes are on you. You see it though, and it further proves your point. “What the hell is pretty privilege?”

Your wild hands gesture towards him, a look of disbelief on your face as you do so. “You! Of course girls line up to hand you their number, have you seen yourself? Pretty privilege,” you jab your fork at him in time with your final words, a smirk on your glossy lips. 

Jungkook feels his confidence grow at your casual compliment, tongue prodding at his cheek as he stares down at his food, trying not to smile too hard. You thought he was pretty, that was a win in his book. 

“C’mon,” he teases, foot gently nudging your leg underneath the table. “You could totally score someone's number. Plus there's always apps if you just wanna test the water.”

You give your plate a contemplated stare, “Sure, how hard could it be?”

Admittedly, the answer to that question was: not hard at all. You had met all your previous boyfriends in person, through mutual friends or shared classes back in college, never once dipping your toe into the world of Tinder or Bumble. Who knew all it would take was a couple of selfies and the strategic body shot to have boys circling around you like some new-age, slightly filthier version of rapunzel. 

Jungkook knew though, not at all shocked by how quickly you get a match the following day when he’s at your place. His eyes are focused on the screen in front of him, helping you beat a level in your favorite game that you had been stuck on. But the second you gasp as if you’ve won the lottery, he pauses the game entirely and gives you an odd look. 

“What?”

His answer comes in the form of your phone thrusted in his direction, lit up screen displaying your profile picture and the one of the boy you had just matched with. Jung Hoseok. Jungkook’s eyes narrow as he reads the name, trying to remember it in case he somehow had a friend in common that knew all the dirt on him. 

He has a similar pair of yellow shades on his own head, thicker black rims around them and a charming smile on his face. Jungkook chuckles to himself. Yellow shades? How original. 

“What do I say?” you question, eyes looking nervous as you wiggle the phone in his face. The small white bar beneath your match urges you to start a conversation, and coming up with the right words to say makes you overthink it all. 

“Just say hi and tack on some cute emoji. It’s not that hard,” he laughs, pushing the phone back at you. Jungkook knew you could start the message off any way you wanted and this Jung Hoseok would eat it right up. How could he not, the alluring smile in your profile photo would draw anyone in. 

“Okay, I did it.” Your phone is instantly locked and chucked aside in an attempt to be forgotten, choosing to grab the remote out of Jungkook’s hands for another distraction. It only lasts a brief second before you’re killed by the boss Jungkook was trying to defeat. 

“Really?” Jungkook huffs, yanking the remote back into his hands, needing a distraction himself. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that you were searching for a fuck buddy while he sat beside you. How crazy would it be if he suggested being your fuck buddy, offered to help you through this so called wild phase you were searching for. 

No. That’s not what he wants. 

Would he enjoy it? Sure. But he could already imagine how much worse his heart would hurt if his feelings came to light and yours were non-existent. That is if you’d even agree to it. 

“Relax, he’s probably thinking of what to reply.”

You make a noise of disagreement, fingers itching to unlock your device to see if it was true, slowly inching towards it until you finally grab it and go back onto the app. Jungkook just chuckles as he goes back to helping you with your game, not wanting to look at you as you giggle at your device. He could already imagine what this guy was telling you for you to turn into a giddy mess not even two minutes in. 

He tunes it all out, eyes focused on the screen, fingers gripping the remote with a little more force than needed. His concentration helps him though, finally passing the level you’ve been stuck on for the past two weeks. 

“You’re welcome,” he sighs, making a show of stretching out and sending you a smile, having it falter slightly when he sees your eyes still focused on the screen of your phone. With a frown he looks back at the television, saving the game before turning it off altogether. 

Once he gets up from the couch, making his way over to the media console to store the remotes, is when you look up at him. “You’re right, this is easy!”

Jungkook doesn’t feel the usual pride that comes with being right, but the cheerful look on your face prevents him from feeling salty. Coming back towards the couch, he sits beside you once more, facing you as he rests his elbow on the back cushion to lean on. “Told you so.”

He keeps that same smile on his face as you mention how quick Hoseok was to ask you out on a date, even as you bring up the fact that this date would be at his place, and Jungkook could decipher netflix and chill any way some greasy boy tried to conceal it. 

“I hope he knows I don’t want anything serious,” you mumble, chewing on your fingernail as you scroll through the messages. 

Jungkook could almost laugh at how blissfully unaware you were of the piranha infested water that was the great sea of Tinder. Of course this yellow sunglass wearing wannabe version of him knows you don’t want anything serious, why else would he be so quick to invite you over with the cheeky excuse to watch movies. 

All he can do is shrug as he stares at you, lips pressed together in an effort to not say something that would totally ruin everything. Instead, Jungkook does everything he can to be the best version of a wingman you could get. He tells you the ins and outs of hookups, how you should definitely not text him the minute you leave his place and tell him you had fun, don’t talk about anything super personal involving family or your work, and if he doesn’t offer to go down on you but expects a blowjob he’s a loser. 

It’s solid advice that you mentally jot down, subjecting him to further questions your mind comes up with and even asking him for help on an outfit via text the night of your hangout with Jung Hoseok. 

Jungkook stares at the photos for a little too long if he’s being honest. They weren’t spectacular selfies that you had taken much effort for, their sole purpose being showing off the outfit, but the way you look so focused as you snapped the shot had him zooming into your face and smiling like an idiot. When you double text him with a long line of question marks he snaps out of it, deciding on the second option you picked of mom jeans and a cropped shirt. Cute and casual, and definitely something Jungkook preferred, but he’d never tell you that. 

When you finally text him a thumbs up and tell him you’re on your way out he just hearts the message before locking his device and trudging to the living room. It’s not often that he wallows in self pity, spacing those days out so far he barely remembers them. But they usually went exactly like this, ordering a large meat lovers pizza with extra cheese, drinking far too many Mike’s hard lemonade—because despite how much they made his stomach hurt they were tasty so he didn’t care—and binge watching his comfort show: Modern Family. 

But even as he sulks on his couch, practically sinking into the cushions with horrible posture and a slice of pizza resting on his chest, he can’t find it in himself to chuckle at Cam and Mitch’s usual banter. He’s too busy thinking about which movie you’re currently watching, if you were watching it. Who’s Jungkook kidding though, you were totally getting your guts rearranged right now. 

Taking an aggressive bite out of the crust he frowns and raises the volume up on his television, attempting to drown the mocking voice in his head calling him a loser for not admitting to his feelings. He knew this, knew he should have said something when he wanted to at breakfast, but Jungkook was afraid that if he confessed as you were talking about hooking up, that you’d see him as taking advantage of a situation instead of being genuine. I mean who wouldn’t? You say you want something casual and suddenly he’s spilling his heart out and you’re supposed to believe he’s not some pig trying to butter you up. He didn’t want to get labeled as a creepy neighbor after the good times you’ve had. 

“So stupid,” he grumbles to himself as he takes another swig, the last drops of the alcohol hitting his tongue with a tangy aftertaste. As he sits up to place the empty bottle onto his coffee table his muscles ache, neck stiff from the unfortunate position it had been subjected to for the last three hours. With a small huff he’s rolling his shoulders, reaching for his discarded phone to see the time—and also check if you’d sent him some SOS text—but he finds nothing besides the bright numbers indicating that it was nearing midnight.

In true pity party day fashion, he doesn’t even bother cleaning up after his mess, just tossing the dirty dishes into the sink to be washed tomorrow when he would force himself to be in a better mood. Instead, he grabs a water and his phone and waddles into his bedroom. 

The moonlight illuminates the space enough for him to keep the light switch off, undressing from his crumb covered sweats and shirt, choosing to remain in his boxers as he slipped under the cold duvet. The sheets feel fresh against his hot cheeks, flush from the alcohol, cooling him down and making his body relax. 

Jungkook knows he should sleep, needing to be up early tomorrow for work, but he can’t stop his mind from wandering into dangerous territory. His buzzed brain has no qualms imagining exactly what you were doing right now, wondering if you’d be the type to act shy at a guy’s house for the first time, if you’d initiate the first move or not. Jungkook had only seen it up close once under the flash of strobe lights and the haze of alcohol, but he can still picture the soft smile on your face before you go in for a kiss, and he grumbles under his breath when he realizes that he wouldn’t be the one kissing you tonight. 

What he doesn’t know, is that you wouldn’t be the one getting kissed tonight either. The Jung Hoseok you had perceived through Tinder, assuming he was all casual and DTF with his netflix and chill suggestion, had been anything but. What you thought would be a steamy night, ended up becoming a nice dinner and comedy watched, morphing into some version of game night where you discovered he was a little too competitive than you were used to. The only action you got was a kiss to your cheek as he walked you to your car and a promise for another date. A promise you would not be keeping. 

So as Jungkook lays in bed while his thoughts turn into some fantasy of you moaning out his name, you shuffle into your bedroom and slip into your pajamas with a defeated sigh. You had already texted your best friend telling her what a bust tonight had been, deciding to just tell Jungkook all about it tomorrow because you knew he was most likely fast asleep now. And as you settle under your own covers, inches away from Jungkook with only a wall seperating you, you decide to just call it a night and pretend it never happened. 

Just as you shut your eyes, nuzzling into your pillow, you hear the first moan come from behind the wall. A small cry of despair escapes you as you bury your face into your sheets, tugging them up and over your head to block the sound of Jungkook getting some action the same night you had been left high and dry. Of course he would, assuming you’d be getting the same treatment at your date's place, why wouldn’t he take advantage of your absence and not have to muffle his partner’s moans the way he usually did. 

You’re just going to ignore it, until you hear a moan that sounds strangely like your own name. Maybe it's wishful thinking on your part, your horny brain deciding to pretend that Jungkook was calling for you instead of whoever he was with. It might be a little wrong for you to have that fantasy of your neighbor, but you aren’t blind. He’s hot, and adorably sweet, the perfect package for any girl he tried to swoon. And judging by the cries you’ve heard of lucky girls prior, you know he was good in bed. 

You’re just desperate now. That’s the excuse you tell yourself as you slowly settle onto your back, feeling your body warm up when you focus on his muffled groans, desperate and needy. As your hand slowly slides down your shirt, you shut your eyes, biting down onto your lip to muffle any sound you could make when your fingers slip underneath your pants and past your underwear. 

Jungkook on the other hand doesn’t care about his volume. His boxers are tugged down his thighs, knees bent as he slowly ruts into his sticky palm. His hand is tacky with the lube he had messily squirted on, thick cock glistening in the light coming in from his window. He can’t look away from it, mouth dropped open as he groans, imagining it was your hand tightly wrapped around him, your spit covering his cock instead of that strawberry flavored lube. 

“Ah fuck,” he moans, shutting his eyes and throwing his head back onto his soft pillows when his thumb rubs along his slit. It continues to leak beads of precum, quickly wiped away to join the mess on his cock when his hand slides back down and squeezes along his base. 

You hear that loud and clear, and when the female voice you’re expecting never follows, you realize he must be taking care of himself. It makes you feel a little less guilty now as your fingers trail along your slit, collecting the slick coating your folds before you softly circle your clit. A choked gasp fills the air at the small sensation, your body already wired after having expected to get some action tonight; it totally had nothing to do with your hot neighbor jacking off inches away from you. 

With your eyes fluttering shut, you strain your ears to make out any other noise, muffling your own groans with a hand pressed against your mouth. The bed creaks lightly underneath you as you roll your hips into your hand, getting into a smooth rhythm that makes your body buzz. 

Slowly, your imagination runs wild, and you wonder just what Jungkook was thinking of as he did this. Was he watching some porn as he did it, using his own filthy thoughts to push himself to ecstacy, or was this just something he needed to do to be able to sleep? 

“Shit, so good,” he groans out, voice raspy, but you can sense his desperation through the drywall. It’s what has you sinking a single digit into your drenched entrance, biting down onto your lower lip when you feel the glide of your walls as you start to thrust into yourself, easing in another and mewling at the slight stretch. 

Jungkook would absolutely give his left leg to know what your pussy felt like, he didn’t even care how disgusting he sounded by admitting that to himself, it was true. Blame it on the hard lemonade that made his stomach ache and his mind unfiltered, but he could almost visualize how you’d look above him, could practically feel the warmth of your core wrapped around him, dripping down his length as he fucked into you. 

He knows you’re loud in bed, never being one to conceal your cries of pleasure and he would die happy to hear his name come out of your mouth as you creamed his cock. But for now, his hand would have to do. 

His lids feel too heavy, jaw slack as the pleasure flows through his body. The wet squelch of his palm fills the room, mingling with his pants and groans, air growing thick around him. It’s been a while since Jungkook had jacked off, and even longer since he’d been able to do it shamelessly in bed without the fear of you hearing him, but now that he thought you were gone he can’t find it in himself to cover his mouth or groan into his pillows like he usually did. 

The pent up frustration fogs up his mind, cranks the lust up to 11 until his free hand is gripping his sheets beside him, bed frame creaking as his thrusts speed up. The thuds of his headboard hitting the wall come from behind you, a choked moan blending in with it, and it has you scrambling for your bedside drawer. 

The pajamas you wear get yanked off your legs and tossed aside after you grab your trusty vibrator, settling onto your back once more with huff. All it takes is a press of a button for the device to come to life, buzzing in your hand as you trail it up your thighs. A gasp escapes you when you pass it over your mound, brushing against your clit and sending a jolt of pleasure through you. 

“Oh my god,” you whimper when you finally press the vibrating head directly onto your sensitive clit, legs spreading further apart as you increase the intensity. You could clearly hear the raise in Jungkook’s moans, and that's when the first irrational thought pops into your mind. 

How easy would it be for you to head over to his place and deal with both of your problems. Surely Jungkook wouldn’t have an issue with you offering to suck his dick, wouldn’t mind letting you sink down onto him if it was just a friendly favor. 

The little devil on your shoulder tells you it would be mutually beneficial, urging you to get up and walk to Jungkook’s with the vibrator still in your hand, but you can’t. This alone felt like enough of a dirty secret, a secret you’d have absolutely no problem keeping because although you feel slightly ashamed, you couldn’t deny how turned on you are. 

The flashes of all the times you’ve heard Jungkook with other people play in your mind, the screams of his name that he tried to muffle, pleas for him to go faster, the resounding smack of his palm on flesh that always left you wide eyed when you heard it. And you start to wonder if maybe you’d be into that, the feeling of his large tattooed hand connecting with your ass, gently tapping against your cheek for you to open up for his cock. 

That fantasy is like the first ember needed to start the fire inside of you, spreading uncontrollably until you’re bucking into your vibrator, teeth biting down on your lip to keep any potential moans of his name from slipping out. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he chants, the same fire burning within him. Maybe your minds are linked telepathically, his thoughts gravitating to the same filthy fantasy you had. Jungkook was very much an ass man, knowing very well how good your butt looked in jeans from how often he stared at it, he could only imagine how good it would look as he fucked you from behind. Picturing the way it would bounce back from the force of his thrusts, eyes glued to the way you’d soak his cock, mimicking the tightness of your walls with a firm grip of his palm. 

Jungkook can sense his orgasm approaching, leaves his chest feeling tight as he pants, legs gliding along his sheets for leverage to continue fucking into his hand. You’re not far off either, vibrator set to the highest setting you can practically feel your bones rattling, free hand slipped under your shirt as you pinch at your pebbled nipples. You’re both on the brink of falling over the edge, the same question playing in your mind: where would you want Jungkook to cum?

As his moans get breathier, whiny in a way you’d never imagine them to be, you mentally decide that you’d want him to cum inside of you, wanting to see the way his cute face would twist up in pleasure as he filled you up. Jungkook hopes you would, throwing all responsible thinking aside for that sweet moment of ecstasy and the mental picture is enough to finally push him over. 

“Ah shit, baby,” he cries out in his room—thankfully having half the mind to not cry out your name as he came—eyes rolling back as his cock twitches in his palm, ribbons of cum splashing onto his stomach and chest. The warmth hits his skin, more droplets continuing to leak out as his palm milks his orgasm, stomach hiccuping and back arching from the stimulation. 

The choked moan is what has your own orgasm washing over you, your palm slapping over your mouth so hard you know you’ll feel the ache later but you don’t care. A muffled gasp blends with the buzzing of your toy, thighs tensing up as your body tingles and writhes around on your sheets. 

The only thing you can think of is Jungkook, the charming smile he’d give you when he listened to you rant about anything, his annoying habit of rolling up his sleeves to show off his muscles, the cute scowl on his face whenever you managed to beat him at Mario Kart, and the soft feeling of his alcohol coated lips on yours. It leaves you feeling warm as your orgasm flows through you, lying limp on the bed as you mewl at the sensitivity. 

When you realize your thoughts have strayed from ‘pure sexy Jungkook fantasyland’, and switched over to ‘Jeon Jungkook your adorable neighbor’, your eyes go wide, finger immediately going to turn off the vibrator. In your haste to shut it off, you click the wrong button, changing the pulsing settings and nearly screaming when the device starts to buzz erratically against your overly sensitive clit. 

With a strained gasp you yank it away from yourself, turn it off and throw it aside, horribly miscalculating the size of your bed and watching in horror as it lands on the floor with a loud thud. The complete silence from both sides makes the noise sound deafening, and all you can do is sit on your bed, half naked, and hope Jungkook is still too busy basking in his post orgasm bliss to hear the bang. 

Although the blood is still pumping in his ears, he heard the thud clearly. His heart stops in his chest as he lays there, too scared to breathe in case he’d somehow make too much noise, suddenly afraid of being too loud after he had just made a show of himself. Jungkook slowly sits himself up, grimacing at the stickiness on his stomach before pressing his ear against his headboard to try to hear anything else. 

All you want to do is yank the covers over yourself and go to sleep, pretend your horrendous date and your dirty thoughts about your friend never happened. The sobering mentality that comes after an orgasm settles into you, leaving you staring at the floor with a crease between your brows as you wonder what the hell came over you. 

When Jungkook hears nothing else, he sighs in relief, hauling himself out of bed to grab another pair of underwear before entering his bathroom to clean up. As he stares at his own reflection in the mirror, he frowns at how pathetic he feels. The throbbing headache of his earlier drinks is already starting to kick in, body now sweaty from exertion, stomach covered in his cum. 

“Such a loser,” he grumbles out, grabbing a wad of tissues to wipe away the mess on his skin before walking back out. Here he was, getting off to the thought of you, while you were out having your post-breakup wild phase. 

His hands grab his phone as he reaches his nightstand, flopping back onto the bed and unlocking the device. It’s now one in the morning, and you still hadn’t text him, which either meant you were having the time of your life, or Jungkook had to track down this Jung Hoseok. The slightly protective side of him won’t allow him to sleep until he hears back from you, fingers already typing out a message and hitting send. 

Jungkook 1:23am : you safe or am i gonna have to go all Liam Neeson on this guy?

When your phone vibrates on your nightstand you gasp, grabbing it before it could make any more noise. Seeing Jungkook’s name flash on the screen makes your blood run cold, already imagining what the text could be: calling you dirty for getting off on him, making fun of you, telling you to come ove—no stop that. 

Finally mustering up the courage, you open it up, a small laugh spilling out as you read his message, relief flooding through you as you realize that meant he thought you were still with Hoseok. 

Y/N 1:26am : oh yeah, you gonna show him your very particular set of skills? lol

Y/N 1:26am : i just got home though

Y/N 1:26am : like right now

Y/N 1:26am : still sitting in my living room

Y/N 1:27am : haha

He laughs at your string of texts, something you hear as he settles into bed. Jungkook ebbs away the small feeling of jealousy in his chest, trying to see the silver lining of this. You weren’t rushing to tell him anything about your date which meant it either went so good you wanted to keep it to yourself, or it was subpar and you wouldn’t be seeing this yellow sunglass wearing copycat again. 

Jungkook 1:29am : glad you got home safe, goodnight y/n!

Sending back a goodnight text, you lock your phone and slide deeper into bed, pulling the sheets up to your chin as you stare at the ceiling. You already know the only thing you’ll be dreaming about is your cute neighbor with a bunny smile and body proportions that contradicted it. And as Jungkook lays in bed, wondering if he’ll have to push the crush aside, you’re barely coming to terms with the fact that the small glowing feeling that came with being around him might be something else. 

Every single one of your interactions gets rewinded and played back like a seamless montage, remembering just how many almost moments there was between you. The way his eyes would flash down to your lips whenever you playfully argued on your couch, hands yanking the remotes from his in a game of tug of war that left you way too close in the heat of the moment. How he’d let you braid his hair anytime you found a new youtube tutorial, his starry eyes staring at you with so much adoration it made your stomach flip, brushing it off as love for a friend. 

Then came the jokes from your friends, constantly teasing you about Jungkook, playfully saying they would try to sleep with him just because they liked the scowl on your face, and how quickly you tried to play it off. How the sweet old lady from the convenience store downstairs always assumed you were dating when you came in together, the low jab she sent when you walked in with Hajoon and she said she preferred you with Jungkook. That argument had been one of the ones that left him bolting out of your apartment with a nasty slam of the door, spewing nasty words at you, calling you blind for not seeing it and dumb for acting like you had no idea what he was talking about. 

And for the first time, you come to the sudden realization that Hajoon was right. His deep set insecurities about Jungkook had stemmed from scraps of the truth, not just from him but from you too. The amount of times you’d find a way to slide Jungkook’s name into a conversation about anything, telling him funny stories about him, too lost in thought to see that while you were giggling as you reminisce, he was staring at you in disbelief. 

The final thought that makes you want a blackhole to swallow you up, comes in the form of you, grabbing Jungkook’s face before planting a kiss on his unsuspecting lips at the club. You want to scream into your pillow as you recall it, how he had almost leaned back in to kiss you again before you had sobered him up with your dumb question rooted in revenge. 

“Oh my god, I’m such a bitch.” you whimper. Subjecting Jungkook to be your wingman, jokingly telling him he should be your fake boyfriend more often, asking him for tips with hook ups. If everyone else could see it but you, he probably thought you were purposely friendzoning him. 

The guilt piles on top of you as you start to piece together every moment that flew over your head, only making you bury yourself deeper into your sheets. It makes your heart twist, taking note of how Jungkook was always so quick to put a smile on his face despite how naive you were to it all, wondering if maybe it was too late to try to make something of this now. How many times could you call Jungkook ‘bro’ and treat him like you didn’t see him romantically, before he decided there was no hope for him anymore. 

So as you force yourself to sleep, nerves and uncertainty weighing heavy on your mind, Jungkook snores away as he dreams of the almost moments that could have been.

[mjolnir-steve]

Foolish

Frank Adler x fem!Reader

Word count: 5027 (oop)

Warnings: light drinking, very brief mention of suicide, some cursing, smut (18+ ONLY!!!), unprotected sex (m/f) ... Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Hi, y’all! Here’s my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817’s Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge!!!! I haven’t written smut in a LONG time, so please be gentle with me LOL. Here’s what I got:

Frank Adler

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

Breeding / mutual pining 🥴

I’d like to dedicate this to @rodrikstark for always sharing the Frank Adler feels and @sparkledfirecracker for bullying me (with love) into finishing this. ❤️

If you like this fic, please comment and reblog!!! I hope you enjoy. :)

Fridays never seemed to come soon enough. You looked forward to the beginning of the weekend as much as the next person, but over the last few months, Friday nights took on new meaning for you. You moved to the trailer park a little less than a year ago, wanting to buy a small place of your own and start making a home for yourself. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t expensive, and it was only a ten-minute drive from your office where you’d just secured a promotion. Roberta, the manager, helped you make it feel like home right away, insisting on going with you to pick out paint samples and providing copies of menus for the best take-out in the area.

Before long, Roberta introduced you to the trailer park’s resident certified genius, Mary Adler. Mary and Roberta spent Saturday mornings with you when you were free, which unfortunately, was pretty much all the time. You played games, sang karaoke, and even let Mary’s one-eyed cat Fred come over. He took a liking to your swinging chair in the living room, and if Mary couldn’t find him at home, odds were he somehow squeezed through your window and ended up in that chair. 

Another two months had passed, though, before you met Mary’s uncle and guardian, Frank. You came to learn that Mary stayed with Roberta every Friday night because “Frank needs time to be an adult” and she was not allowed to come back to the house until noon on Saturdays. This information made you feel like Frank must be some kind of sad, perpetual fuckboy. You were right about the sad part, not so much about the latter. One morning while Mary played with your watercolors, Roberta let slip - ironically over a cup of tea - that Frank did have the occasional hookup, but usually, he drank himself sleepy on Friday nights and just needed the time to himself. He worked himself to the bone as a boat mechanic, often late into the night because it was too hot to do some jobs during the day. Frank took Mary in when she was just a baby after his sister, her mother, tragically committed suicide. He spent the majority of his scarce free time with Mary, so when Mary was still a toddler, Roberta offered the Friday night deal. Frank countered that he would do any repairs in the trailer park for free, but she refused to let him do that work without pay, saying he deserved to have a life, too. 

She also informed you that Frank was a former philosophy professor, single, and very attractive, especially if you were into the rugged thing. You rolled your eyes with an amused exhale and took another sip of your tea. You’d be lying if you said your interest wasn’t piqued. Mary then shouted over her shoulder, confirming that she’d been listening to your entire conversation, “Frank is great, but he’s a grump. Good luck cracking that egg.” You snorted, nearly spitting out your tea, and she went back to reading your color theory book to Fred.

With that, you heard a sharp rap at the door. You set your tea down on the kitchen table, curious who your visitor might be. You didn’t know anyone else in the trailer park, or in town, really. You opened the door, taking in the sight of possibly - no, definitely - the most handsome man you’d ever seen. You quickly guessed it was Frank, judging by the grease smeared on his quite large hands. His eyes, though tired, had the same bright look as Mary’s, and he had the most perfectly imperfect fluffy hair and overgrown stubble.

“Good morning,” he said with a sweet, closed-mouthed smile. “Is Mary here?”

You had to remind yourself to breathe. Stammering, you opened the door wider, gesturing inside. “Hi, y-yes. She is!” Why am I like this? “She’s just painting with Fred. Please, come in.” You moved aside so he could fit his broad shoulders through the doorframe and then held out your hand. “You must be Frank. I’m Y/N. Mary is just wonderful.” You smiled at him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

He took your hand in both of his, gentler than you’d expected. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m Frank. It’s great to meet you, finally.” He smiled wide for the first time and you were certain you’d pass out. Who LOOKS like this? “And thank you, she really is wonderful. I couldn’t do it without Roberta. She’s family.” He smiled and waved at Roberta, who was looking at you over the lip of her mug.

Mary didn’t even bother to turn around and face Frank. “What are you doing here, Frank? It’s only 11. I have a whole ‘nother hour with my friends.” You tried to keep your laugh quiet, covering your mouth with your hand and shaking your head.

“Well, excuse me for thinking you might like to go out on the boat with me this morning. I guess I’ll go by myself.”

Mary jumped up from the floor, scrambling to clean up your paints and books. “Can Y/N and Roberta come?”

Frank crouched down to meet Mary’s eyes. “Of course they can, if they’d like.” He looked back at you over his shoulder, trying to gauge your interest, then turning back to his niece. “But do you remember what I told you?”

You could see that Mary was making a conscious effort not to roll her eyes. “You told me that my adult friends have adult lives that include adult responsibilities, and they might not always be available to spend time with me.”

“And?” he looked at her expectantly.

“And I need to invite them to do things without assuming they will do them.” She couldn’t hold back her eye roll any longer, but she made sure not to let Frank see. “Roberta, Y/N, would you both like to join us on the boat today?”

You were amazed by the exchange taking place in front of you, able to see where some of Mary’s brains and tenacity came from. The conversation between the two flowed so easily, playful yet intelligent. It was clear that Frank treated Mary not as a child, but as a person, and you chided yourself internally for thinking that was kinda hot. 

Shaking yourself out of your mildly inappropriate thoughts, you responded. “I’d love to come, Mary.” You smiled at her, bending over to help her pick up the last of the paints from the floor. “Roberta?”

Roberta gave you a look and you just knew she planned this somehow. “I actually do have some of those adult responsibilities to handle today, but thank you for inviting me.” You sent a glare in her direction, quick but no less scathing. “Maybe next time.” She winked at you before washing out her mug and saying her goodbyes.

You spent the whole rest of the day and night with Frank and Mary, doing everything from building sandcastles to cooking dinner together. Mary eventually fell asleep in your lap as you were watching Oliver & Company, Frank’s favorite Disney film that had become Mary’s, too. “An underrated classic,” they told you in unison.

You helped Frank put Mary to bed, a task made easier after such a tiring day. “I guess I should get going.” You stood awkwardly in the small kitchen, unsure of yourself and painfully aware of how close your hand was to Frank’s resting on the counter.

“Yeah, I have a job early in the morning.” He looked down at his shoes, unable to look you in the eye, and you wondered if he hadn’t found your company as enjoyable as you’d found his.

“Listen, I don’t know if you’ve been to Ferg’s? The little bar down the road? I go every Friday night just to relax and have a few beers. Maybe you’d like to come with me next weekend?”

Is he asking me on a date? You could feel your heartbeat racing. The look on your face must not have matched the excitement you felt at the prospect of spending time alone with the dreamy, kind, sarcastic man in front of you. 

He felt like an idiot when you hesitated to answer. He clearly read everything wrong. He had to fix this. “It’s a good place to meet people, you know? I know you’re fairly new to the area, so if you’re looking for more local friends, it’s a good place to start.” He winced, hoping you couldn’t sense his embarrassment at thinking that you would want to go on a date with him.

You swallowed, trying not to let your disappointment show outwardly. Of course he’s not interested in me. Stupid. “Oh, yeah! That would be great, Frank. What time?”

Frank let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, relieved that you didn’t seem offended by his offer. “How’s 7? I’ll pick you up? We can walk over together.”

And that’s how Fridays came to mean so much to you. Almost every Friday for the last six months, Frank met you at your door and you walked to Ferg’s together. Frank told you it would be a good place to make new friends, but you paid no mind to the other patrons. You only had eyes for each other, yet neither of you could see it, even though Roberta pointed out (repeatedly) that neither of you had taken anyone else home in all that time.

The more time you spent with Frank, the more certain you were that God was real and your life was His favorite trainwreck reality TV series. Even if you could have customized a dream man Build-A-Bear style, Frank still would blow your creation out of the water. He was smart and funny, not to mention an adoring parent to Mary, to whom you grew more attached each day. He was kind and thoughtful, talented and hard-working. Although he was a grouch, as Mary would say, he always was sweet to you. He took a genuine interest in anything you had to say, whether you were venting about work or filling him on the latest episode of whatever show you were binging. He was ridiculously sexy without even trying. All those hours he spent doing manual labor in the sun did wonders for his physique. You’d only seen him completely shirtless on one occasion, and the image of him with sweat dripping down his chest was burned into your memory, fueling your late-night thots and causing you to break out your vibrator on what was now a regular basis.

Six months had come and gone in the blink of an eye, and you’d begun to accept that Frank didn’t want to be anything more than friends with you. You decided tonight was as good a night as any to talk to someone new, to start letting go of your unrequited feelings. 

You swapped out your usual jeans for a sundress, t-shirt bra for a push-up, and lip balm for lipstick. Putting your phone and some cash in a wristlet, you considered wearing your new strappy sandals. The walk to Ferg’s was about five minutes each way down a sandy road, though, and memories of the sticky floor inside aided your preferred pair of Converse in their victory for the night. 

Just as you finished tying your shoes, you heard a knock at the door. You adjusted your cleavage and fluffed your hair a final time with one last look in the mirror. Here goes.

Frank felt like he had the wind knocked out of him in the best possible way. He suddenly felt entirely underdressed in his aloha shirt, even though it was his go-to for nights out of the house. He’d never seen you dressed so nicely when you weren’t going to work. 

You were the kind of beautiful that didn’t require makeup. Your natural hair always framed your face perfectly, even if you didn’t think so. He thought you were adorable when you were concentrating on something, blowing your hair out of your face with a huff. Visions of your soft curves made their way into Frank’s dreams on more than one occasion. He had seen you in your swimsuit several times, sunbathing with Roberta and swimming with Mary at the beach. It wasn’t even all that revealing, but it accentuated your figure in ways that forced Frank into needing a cold shower or two. Above all, though, he admired your heart. You’d allowed Mary into your life without hesitation, spending time with her because you wanted to and allowing her to ask all those questions that Frank just wouldn’t be able to answer. It killed him that you didn’t see him the way he saw you, a perfect partner for him and a worthy maternal figure for Mary.

“Frank? You okay?” Your concerned voice shook him out of his thoughts, prompting him to close his mouth which apparently had opened wide in astonishment when you stood in the doorway.

“Yeah, um... You look…” He looked a little confused, his brow furrowed and lips pursed. “Why are you all dolled up? It’s only Ferg’s.” He wished he could’ve kicked himself in the teeth when your face fell at his question. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Shit. Let me try that again,” he nearly begged, running up to you to stop you from going back inside. “You look really nice, honey.” He ran his calloused hand up your forearm, but quickly returned it to his side when he realized what he’d done. “Is it a special occasion, though? Should I change?”

You gave him a watery smile, given that you were three seconds from slamming the door in his face and crying. “That’s better. Thank you.” You lightly pushed at his shoulder, trying and failing to ignore the electricity you felt at the contact. “No occasion, though. Just thought maybe it was about time I actually introduced myself to someone new.” 

You couldn’t quite read his reaction. Little did you know he was certain he just felt his heart physically crack in his chest. “What do you mean?”

The two of you started walking, the tension between you thickening the very air you breathed. “Well, when you first invited me to Ferg’s, you said maybe I’d get to know some other people in the area, right? But we’re always with each other. I’m sure you’re itching to talk to someone other than me. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Ah. Gotcha.” Frank abruptly reverted to the quiet, distant state he usually occupied before he met you. He sped up a bit, walking ahead of you and desperately attempting to school his features before you caught up with him.

Frank practically ran to the restroom, not slowing down even to hold the door open for you. You took a deep breath and rolled your shoulders, relaxing before entering the bar. Normally, whoever made it first would order drinks for you both, but Frank made it painfully clear that he had no desire to be in your company tonight. You ordered your usual, an Angry Orchard with a shot of Fireball in a tall glass. The combination tasted like apple cider, but the burn in your throat was caused by liquor rather than heat. It was strong enough to get you buzzed, but not so strong that you’d be stumbling home. You swallowed half the glass in one gulp, wanting to feel the warmth in your veins boosting your confidence as quickly as possible.

“Y/N? How are you?” You turned around, eyes meeting those of Jamie, your coworker. He leaned in for a hug and you accepted somewhat reluctantly, having interacted with him only in passing.

“Hey! I’m all right. What’s up?” You smiled at him, taking another sip of your drink. Jamie was not very subtly staring at your chest. You weren’t crazy about him, but the attention felt nice, so you allowed it.

“Not much. Just happy it’s Friday, ya know?” He looked around for a moment before returning his attention to you. “You’re usually here with that mechanic dude, right?”

You stifled a laugh thinking about how Frank would react if he heard himself referred to as “dude” by this prick. “Yeah, he’s around somewhere. We’re just-“

“-Just friends?” he finished for you with a hopeful look.

You nodded in response, looking him up and down. He was no Frank, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome. It had been so long since you’d even been kissed, and though you hated to admit it, you were touch-starved. One night couldn’t hurt, could it?

Meanwhile, Frank was splashing his face with cool water. He couldn’t believe he’d fucked up so royally. He was sure you didn’t want him how he wanted you, and now he was sure it was too late to tell you how he really felt.

He knew from the moment he saw you that he’d never get you out of his head. Roberta had been talking you up to Frank for weeks, but he wanted no part of it, mumbling something about there being “a reason why no one used matchmakers anymore.” He had no choice but to make your acquaintance when he was looking for Mary, and he’d never been so happy that Roberta could say she told him so.

Later that day at the beach, Mary approached him while you were dozing on a towel in the sand. She sat on his lap and reached for his face, using her pointer fingers to turn the straight line of his mouth up into a smile. “Roberta says you have a ‘charming’ smile, Frank. We think you should use it more.” He chuckled quietly, careful not to disturb you, and pulled Mary in close, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. She grimaced at the feeling, dramatically wiping at her face until he let her go back to reading with Fred.

The sound of the jukebox starting up cut short his reverie. He had to get out there and explain himself. Frank dried his face and hands with a paper towel before smacking his cheeks and stretching his neck back and forth to each shoulder. 

Frank exited the restroom only to find some douchebag staring at your ass as you leaned over toward the bar. He saw red when the piece of shit held out his hand behind his back while his friend slipped a twenty-dollar bill into it, seemingly winning some sort of bet.

Jamie didn’t stand a chance when Frank stormed in between the two of you. “That’s IT,” he yelled, so intense he borderline bellowed. He threw whatever cash he had in his pocket on the bar to pay for your drinks before he pulled you outside, almost getting to your door while you fought against his grip. He only stopped when you spun your body around like something out of Dancing with the Stars and jumped in front of him, forcing him to catch you.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, what are y-”

“-What are YOU doing, Frank? What the fuck was that?” You put your feet back down on the ground but remained facing him, arms crossed over your chest.

He groaned in frustration, suddenly realizing he actually had no clue how to respond. “Fuck.”

You looked at him, tapping your foot in anticipation.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.” He rubbed at his temples in the way he did when he felt a headache coming on.

“And how was he looking at me, Frank? What does it matter to you?”

“He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat and I… FUCK!”

You both turned when your neighbor opened his window. “Can you kids keep it down out here?”

You waved bashfully at the old man. “Sorry, Mr. Parker,” you said in unison.

“Come inside, Frankie.” The nickname that typically made him roll his eyes at you never had sounded sweeter, now that its use confirmed you didn’t hate him for the scene he made. You both toed off your shoes at the door before you made your way into the living room, motioning for him to sit next to you on the couch when he tried to sit in the armchair across the room.

You leaned forward, pinching his chin between your thumb and forefinger. “Now what’s going on in that sun-damaged brain of yours?”

He let out a laugh so soft you almost missed it, but you were glad you didn’t. Sitting back against the arm of the couch, you pulled a pillow into your lap and hugged it, giving Frank your full attention.

Frank cleared his throat, doing his best to accept that it was now or never. “That guy was leering at you, and it pissed me off. You deserve better, Y/N.” He pried your fingers from where they were locked around the pillow to hold your hands in his.

“If you want to meet new people, that’s great. If you don’t want to be with me, that’s a little less great, but I’d understand. He didn’t even pay for your drinks. And I th-”

You covered his mouth with one of your hands, and he knitted his brows in confusion. “You’re making it sound like it’s an option to be with you.” You were in disbelief, side-eyeing him, waiting for Ashton Kutcher to announce that you were, in fact, being Punk’d. 

The corners of his mouth lifted into the soft smile he reserved for you. It was the same one he gave you whether you were on a tangent about how “Obsessed” by Mariah Carey is “the single greatest diss track of all time” or you were helping Mary put a harness and leash on Fred “just to see how he’d do” on a walk.

“For a distinguished professor, you’re kind of a dummy, Frank.” You took his face in your hands, thrilled to be feeling his stubble against your palms. Before he could talk back to you, you kissed him, unsure how you denied yourselves such a simple yet extraordinary pleasure for so long. It only took a moment for him to relax into it, his hands removing the pillow between you before finding your waist and pulling you almost into his lap.

You deepened the kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. He pulled away first, pressing his forehead to yours. “Seems like we’re both dummies, huh?” 

You were going to ask why pulled away until you looked down to see a considerable tent forming in the front of his jeans. You laughed as he pulled you into a tight hug, one arm wrapped around you while the other hand held your face against his neck.

You kissed the side of his neck softly before leaning back to look at him. “All this time? I thought you didn’t see me this way.” You held his face, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You asked me to go to Ferg’s and then said I could meet other people, so I thought that was it, you know?”

He covered your hands with his and pecked your lips softly. “Honey, I thought it was the other way around. I was trying to ask you out and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.” You giggled, spluttering a bit because tears had started falling at some point. He wiped your tears away before swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down a bit. “We’re fools, aren’t we?”

You nodded slowly and Frank saw something wicked flash in your eyes before you took his thumb in your mouth, sucking lightly. “Jesus, honey.” His length hardened underneath you and you could feel the wetness beginning to pool in your panties, prompting you to grind down into his lap.

You released his thumb from your mouth, pressing your chest into his before kissing him again. “I think we’re only fools if we don’t take advantage of the rest of your adult time.” You removed your dress easily, returning your hands to Frank’s shoulders to push off his shirt.

He surged forward to kiss you again, working magic with his tongue against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he picked you up, walking you into the bedroom. Placing you on the bed carefully, he removed your bra and panties before pulling off his boxers and jeans in one go. You thought you wanted him before, but now that you could see everything he’d been hiding under his baggy clothes, you didn’t see how you could ever let him leave your bedroom.

The next few minutes were spent exploring each other’s mouths while Frank stretched you with his fingers. You didn’t think you’d ever been so wet in your life and thought you might pass out if you didn’t feel him inside you immediately. You gave his cock a few strokes before sliding his head through your folds, coating him in your slick.

“Waitwaitwait, honey. Do you have a condom?”

“You don’t need one if you don’t want one. It’s okay.”

He looked like you just gave him tomorrow’s winning lotto numbers, taking a deep breath to steady himself before he looked at you again. “Oh, God. Are you sure?”

“Mhm. I wanna feel you. Make me yours?”

“Anything you want, honey, but if you change your mind, just tell me, okay?” He lined himself up, seconds shy of entering you for the first time.

“I figured if you were gonna be possessive of me tonight, you might as well take it the whole nine, Frankie.” You laughed as he let out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously, though, I’m clean, I’m on the pill, and I’ve wanted you for a long time.” You reached up to scratch lightly through his chest hair.

“The only thing I wanna hear right now is you moaning for me.” He drove into you harshly, but waited a moment for you to adjust once he was seated to the hilt. “So damn wet and tight for me, honey. You’re so perfect, so beautiful.” He kissed you again before he began to move, slowly but surely making you lose your mind.

He dipped his head down to take one nipple in his mouth, then the other, effectively shutting you up and emptying all thoughts from your head. He nipped at the swell of your breast, soothing the bite with his tongue. “Fuck, Frank, please!”

“Please what, honey?” He picked up his pace, fucking into you so vigorously you moved up the bed. “Tell me what you need.”

“Make me cum, Frank. Please, baby, I need it. Need you,” you cried, leaning up to bite into his shoulder, stifling your moans.

“I wanna hear you, Y/N. I wanna hear those pretty moans while I’m making this perfect pussy cum for me.” The combination of his filthy words and the sight of him sucking on his own fingers before rubbing at your clit sent you over the edge, making you scream his name over and over again for what felt like forever and not long enough.

You could tell he was close, his hips stuttering and losing their rhythm. He began to pull out, unsure if you were willing to let him finish inside you, but knowing he was too close to wait for an answer.

You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him close, pushing him back into you. “Fill me up, Frank. I wanna feel all of you. Please give it to me,” you whimpered. His release triggered another for you, chanting each other’s names surely loud enough for the neighbors to hear. 

He stayed inside you as you both came down from your shared high, gingerly flipping you over so he laid on his back with you on his chest. He kissed the top of your head, fingers fluttering up and down your sides. 

“What’s on your mind now, Frankie?” You looked up at him through your lashes, mildly terrified of the answer.

He looked down at you with the most adoration you’d ever seen, lifting your chin so your eyes met his in the moonlight. “That wasn’t too soon, was it? You mean so much to me and to Mary. I don’t wanna mess this up. I don’t ever wanna hurt you. You’re the best thing in my life besides Mary, you know that?”

You kissed his chest before looking back up at him, smiling. “First of all, I would argue that wasn’t soon enough.” He hissed as you clenched around his still softening cock inside you.

“You’re evil.”

Winking at him, you continued tracing patterns on his chest with your fingers. “Second, that all kinda sounds like you might be in love with me, Frank Adler.”

His hands stopped moving for a second before he responded. “Would you run away if I said I am?”

“Well, I wouldn’t run away. This is my house.” You thought your heart might explode in your chest.

“I didn’t even say it, but I take it back,” he huffed, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“What if I told you I felt the same way?”

He grinned, sitting up to kiss you feverishly on your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips. You could feel him starting to harden again inside you, leading to round two of… well, you lost count.

You ate breakfast and showered together in time for Frank to return home before Mary did, agreeing to talk more later and to hold out on Roberta for a while.

Frank stood on your doorstep, leaning in to kiss you once more. All of a sudden, you heard a familiar meow and thanked God you were dressed and not in your robe.

“Frank, what are you doing here? I thought I’d come see Y/N since I’m not supposed to come home until noon.”

You bit your tongue to keep from cackling. Frank ran a hand over his face, his blissful bubble burst. He was getting you a hotel room next weekend.

[awesomefringey]

Do you think My Policeman is a great opportunity for Harry to show who he really is. I mean it is necessary that every project of Harry has to be related to his personal life and I think that they will end Holivia around the release of DWD to hype it up more and they will take a step towards MP. What do you think about this. I think it will be a great time for Harry to come out as who he really is not officially but yeah in a way.

Hey nonnie, this will be longer than I wanted, so bear with me, while I'm trying to sort my thoughts:

Holivia is the "duvet" for everything Harry will express romantically on HS3, as well as exploring his gender queerness in editorial fashion shoots - without coming out. (Who knows what the revenue target on Holivia is, but if they aren't there yet and as long as it works logistically, plus they both getting the contracts and deals they were aiming for, win-win I guess.)

Harry chose the role (or the role chose him) in MP because it was close to his heart.

Harry knew he could use the movie's sujet to write more intimately about his personal experience with closeting (I'm still curious to see how he will manage press tours and questions like "How did you prepare?")

Harry had an advantage because I'm certain the director knew H is part of the LGBTQ+ community

Harry will be awesome in MP, and the gp will be surprised how well he sells a sad closeted gay man who's constantly afraid of getting caught, especially when he's just a straight dude with more than 80 hookups under his belt.

Which leads to my final comment on it:

Isn't it remarkable that both times Harry will play a man married to a woman, it will be everything but sexy or romantic.

It's either toxic, or manipulative, or just heavily burdened with doubts and secrets. Neither of these straight relationships demand sexual chemistry. A lot of trying but failing eventually.

And even though Harry's mainstream fanbase made Eros/Star Fox sound like a sex-driven God or something, Eternals will still be a family movie thus him complimenting Angelina Jolie on her looks sounded more like he was trying to impress the mother of his boyfriend than actually flirting with a real woman.

Harry has a very good idea of what he's capable of acting-wise. And a straight man isn't it (yet).

[chaotic-kitty]

Hi!! I actually dont know but Can u do Main 4 on Ctc Nsfw headcanons?😅 Its ok to ignore this!!😅

Hey!! Sorry this took so long, I had writers block.😭 Anyways, here’s the first part. I’ll upload the second part later….later could literally be in 5 minutes or a few days. I’m having a bit of trouble getting a good grasp of Maeve and Theo for this. But I’m working on it! Thank you for the request, hope this is what you wanted! Have a good night/day/evening and sorry for any mistakes!💕

Courting The Crown Main 4 NSFW Headcanons!! Part 1

Warnings: explicit content

Part 2 | Part 3

Rian:

As soon as your relationship reaches the s*x level, y’all cannot keep your hands off of each other. He will constantly be wanting to steal you away for a hot rendezvous or two whenever and wherever he can.

S*x on his ship.👀

You two have been known to hookup in the captain’s quarters, as well as every other nook and cranny on the ship.

Throne s*x!

He likes seeing you sitting on the throne, he finds it so hot. But what he likes even more is the idea of taking you on the throne.

Rian is very passionate and loving to begin with (at least when it comes to you), and those are traits that extend to physical intimacy.

He is VERY into body worship! It doesn’t matter if you’re just having a quickie or taking your time, Rian will try and kiss and touch every part of you he can while telling you how much he loves you and praising you.

He also has a thing for marking you. Not in a possessive way though! He just likes leaving hickeys in places where only he (and you) would know where they are. (If you’re okay with it)

Rian is far from being a selfish lover. He loves making love to you. He relishes in making you come undone. He will spend more time pleasuring you than he will chasing his own release.

He is also the biggest tease.

Will spend the whole day sneakily coming up and touching you in all the ways he knows will turn you on. He’ll also whisper the dirtiest things in your ear, not caring who could hear. At the end of the day he’s wound you both up so much that the minute you are both alone, neither of you can hold back any longer.

Definitely into oral. Both giving and receiving.

Rian enjoys pleasuring you on the throne, but he also LOVES when he’s sitting in the chair at his desk (in this captain’s quarters) with you on your knees getting him off.

He is into sensual lovemaking as well as rougher s*x or even BDSM. As long as you’re both comfortable and enjoying yourselves, he is up for and willing to try anything and everything.

Great aftercare!! Depending on what sort of s*x you had and how worn out you are the method of aftercare differs. If you’re really worn out, he’ll clean you up and cuddle with you and he sings/hums you a nice lil song to calm you. If you’re not as worn out, he’ll suggest a bath to wind down.

He is not shy when it comes to showing his affection for you in public. Rian loves you and will show you off. He will wrap an arm around your shoulder or waist. Hold your hand. And even give you lil pecks on the cheek or just full on make out with you. Of course he is respectful! He will not do anything you’re uncomfortable with. He also knows when he shouldn’t be too touchy.

Gwydion:

Gentle s*x.🥰

He is also really into body worship. He loves every part of you and will spend time showing you just how much.

He also loves praising you and complementing you during the deed. He’ll hold you close as he kisses a path down your body, only ever stopping to tell you how beautiful you are and how your doing such a good job.

He’ll also tell you how much he loves you and will whisper in your ear every reason why as he pleasures you.

Gwydion will incorporate his magic. By doing this it will naturally heightened any feelings and emotions you’re both experiencing. He can also use his magic for specific purposes in order to make the experience more pleasurable for the both of you.

Please count his freckles!! And Trace his tattoos!!🥺

He loves it so much!! Especially if you’ve just finished making love. It’s something you’ve both incorporated into your aftercare. Gwydion finds it to be grounding and soothing. He also relishes in the feeling of you touching him and teasing him.

Lovemaking under ✨the stars✨

It’s no secret that Gwydion loves the stars. It’s even less of a secret that he loves you! So why not combine those two things together?

He definitely has a secret little hideaway where he goes to stargaze, so he will often take you there and you both end up making love under the stars. It’s an experience he cherishes so much.

While he loves touching you, he isn’t as big on pda as some people. So he doesn’t usually whisk you off into storage rooms or dark corners unless he is really needy. But in those cases he still prefers to wait so he can ravish you in privacy of your own rooms.

Prefers positions where he can gaze into your eyes 👀Like the lotus position.

[takemealivelh]

midnight city || gang!luke

gang!luke, rival gangs, mentions of drugs, alcohol and violence. smut. 2k. part 1.

feedback is appreciated

he wiped the blood off his knuckles. the feeling of beating the shit out of someone is a rush of adrenaline. it’s like getting high on coke, but he doesn’t deal with that shit. he’s known many people who do hard drugs and then end up in trouble, or dead. he appreciates his life so much. luke likes being the leader of the diamond forsaken. a mafia that dedicates its time to drug transactions and occasionally prostitution. luke doesn’t fuck with that either, at least not recently. he met this girl in a bar and he’s been thinking about her for over a month. they’ve been on a few dates, and the sex has been great. she has a great sense of humor and he can tell she’s got street smarts, which he likes. he couldn’t fathom the idea of being with someone who gets scared about his job.

“you good, bro?” ashton, luke’s right-hand man, looks over at the bruises and leans against the sink of the bathroom, lighting a joint. their day is done and it’s time to go party. luke beat the shit out of a dude who didn’t give them their money and he threatened to go to the police. there was no way they would let him leave the storage unit without a warning. luke choked the man and broke a few ribs. he’s used to the job. it’s not like he was always like this. he used to have big dreams about forming a band and become a good musician. but he fell into the wrong crowds, and now here he is. dealing drugs and other sketchy businesses. everyone in la who knows about their mafia, knows not to fuck with them. they would end up dead. the police don’t do anything, they know how dangerous they are.

luke dries his hands with a paper towel and runs his fingers through his golden locks. “yeah,” he says. he’s never walked out of a fight with anything more than a few bruises. he does boxing on his free time, so he knows how to throw a lethal punch, and knows how to avoid poor kicks.

“i heard the grey lilies will be there tonight. i swear to fucking god those girls... i would bang every single one of them, but... you know...”

the grey lilies were a girl gang. they dealt drugs, too. that’s why they were a rival to the diamond forsaken. they never got into a physical fight, but there were many times they were about to. having the best clients was a problem for the male gang, but at least they had more people wanting their goods. but still, luke was pissed that they had a quality over quantity problem. he’d grown accustomed to the luxurious lifestyle. a good place to live, the most delicious takeout, and fancy cars. 

“for real?” luke looks over at his friend. he hides his excitement. sure, the grey lilies were trouble. but their top dealer, jackie, was the most fascinating creature he’d ever seen. their dates had been fun, exciting, thrilling. the idea of a secret hookup with their enemy was another rush of adrenaline. one that he actually preferred, if he was being honest.

- 

it’d all started at one of the parties. luke knew jackie, or at least he knew her face and what she did for a living. he was jealous she did so good with clients. she was charming as fuck. they didn’t mean to show up at the same place at the same time, but sometimes the gangs coincided. “did you get the dresnners?” she’d asked him as she took a seat on the stool next to him. her caramel-colored hair was in a ponytail and her eyeshadow was pastel blue. she wore ripped jeans, an oversized white t shirt, and high-heeled boots. the look suited her. she looked like the vocalist of an 80s inspired punk band.

luke scoffed. he knew what she meant. they had been fighting over the dressners for weeks and they decided to go with the grey lilies. that night, the diamond forsaken got blackout drunk. “no, but you did.” he finally said, looking down at the glass of vodka in his hand. 

“yeah,” she chuckled and ordered a beer. luke had always thought jackie was pretty interesting, but they’d never talked. not much, at least. just a few words here and there, mostly passive-aggressive shit. but the bickering was also part of the job. that night, though, that night neither felt like fighting. they were already buzzed. jackie took a swig of her beer and looked at him. “you wanna go outside? i got a joint. it’s legit shit, this.” she smiled.

it’s not like he frowned, but something among those lines happened. but fuck it, he thought. “sure. lead the way.”

they went to the terrace of the bar and lit up the joint. luke coughed a little and she laughed.  “i told you it was legit.”

-

luke and ashton walk into the club like the kings they are. everyone stops to look at them. but shortly, they resume their activities. which mostly consists of getting drunk and high. the two men make their way towards their usual booth. michael and calum are already there. calum’s with his girl. a black beauty who gives incredible head, his words. luke takes a seat and drinks the beer in front of him, swiftly drifting off the conversation to look around. he hasn’t seen the grey lilies, but he hopes they get here soon. bathroom sex sounds good right now.

“how was the guy?” michael asks as he throws a couple of fries into his mouth. ashton tells him that luke did a good job in silencing the motherfucker. “three ribs? man, that’s dark. but cool.” he laughs.

everyone seems to stop talking again, and luke shifts his gaze towards the door. the grey lilies have arrived. they look like a grunge band. their leader, lea, wears combat boots and net tights. but his eyes are focused on the girl whose moans keeps him up at night.  she looks gorgeous in that oversized that jacket that seems to swallow her whole, but still barely covers her ass. he wonders if he looks okay, sexy. he didn’t have time to change, and he hasn’t shaved in a few days. his motorcycle jacket has a few stains, but at least they’re not blood.

jackie finds him staring and she puts on a smirk. she pats the pocket of her jacket to let him know that she’s got weed on her. they rarely ever not get high together. that makes her wonder if this, this between luke and her, is just a side effect of the drug. but she doubts it. she actually likes him, even if she despises his friends. they all seem idiotic to her. luke notices the action of her hand and he immediately looks down at his drink. “imma go to the bathroom.” he announces, even though no one is hearing. they’re too into the story about the miami trip calum and his girl took last weekend.

luke stands up from the booth and snakes through the crowd. he catches a glimpse of jackie, who’s making her way towards her regular booth. “meet me outside in five,” he texts her. he watches her check her phone and smile down at the screen. 

-

“they’re gonna kill us if they see us together,” jackie says as she pulls out the joint from her pocket. she knows the grey lilies hate the diamond forsaken. they think the other gang are all egocentric assholes. she used to think that, too. but she met luke. and he’s actually a sweet guy. he’s really smart, too. the strategy they use to get more clients astounds her. but it’s nice to know that the grey lilies have the better clients.

luke watches her light up the joint and he leans against the wall outside of the club. it’s dark outside and the air is cold. there aren’t many people in the terrace, but he doubts anyone will say anything about them being together. getting high together. “then we’re just gonna have to keep it a secret.” his smile is shy, and jackie thinks he’s the most adorable man. even if he has bruises on his knuckles from probably beating up some shady guy. she passes the joint and luke takes a drag. “you wanna come to my place later? i got some cds i wanna show you.” they’re both big music nerds, and he loves that. they sit on the floor of his room, high out of their minds, and they listen to oasis, jane’s addiction and red hot chili peppers. 

“i don’t know. lea wants to do some kind of after party tonight. and i kinda want to be there.”

luke nods his head, he’s sort of disappointed, but it is what it is. he knows the gangs come first. it’s all about loyalty. that’s why he’d be fucked if anyone of the diamond forsaken members came out right now. but he knows they don’t smoke, except for calum occasionally -rarely, actually. so he’s not worried. 

“come here,” jackie smiles as she plays with the zipper of his jacket. they’re incredibly close and she can feel the smoke coming out from luke’s mouth. she kisses him softly, licking his bottom lip. with eyes closed, luke feels stars bursting inside his lungs. he really likes her. “give me that,” she orders and he hands her the joint.

they keep smoking until there’s nothing left and they stare into each other’s eyes. jackie isn’t one to maintain eye contact, but she feels safe with luke. even if he’s forbidden fruit.

-

the men's bathroom is empty. they had to sneak in so the others couldn’t see them. luke made an excuse about going to the bar to get more drinks even if the counter was crammed. jackie said she was going out for a smoke. it’s all hands and sloppy kisses as they lock the door of one of the stalls. luke bites his lower lip as his back is pressed to the white door and jackie drops to her knees. “you gonna make me feel good?”

“imma make you feel so good, baby,” she grins and unzips his pants. he’s already hard from all the making out in the terrace. so it’s not surprise that his cock springs up as soon as his briefs are pulled down to his thighs. jackie licks the tip and he shudders. he’s gotten a fair amount of blowjobs in his life. the first one from one girl that attended his school and she thought he was going to be a musician one day. but nothing compares to jackie’s mouth. her tongue slides down his length and he closes his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. she’s ecstatic that she can make him squirm in front of her. she likes being in control, even if it doesn’t always happen. luke can be pretty dominant in the bedroom. taking her from behind roughly and choking her. jackie puts his cock in her mouth and she starts bobbing her head to the rhythm of the loud bass coming from the other side of the bathroom door. luke appreciates the little detail. his senses are heightened and it feels like she’s one more instrument adding to the song.

“fuck,” he curses under his breath as he feels the tip of his dick hit her throat. she takes him in so good. she’s an angel. luke looks down and he sees her eyes staring up at him, a subtle smirk on her lips. “you’re- you’re-” he’s trying to say something but his brain doesn’t work. the pleasure is too intense. he hits his head against the door and closes his eyes once again. he’s about to cum. exactly at the same time he hears someone come into the bathroom. fuck. “stop, stop,” he whispers to jackie and cups her face to get her off his dick. she looks through the slit of the door and sees someone she recognizes washing their hands.

“shit,” she mouths. “michael.”

-

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[jingabitch]

Let Love Be Enough

SUMMARY: On the day of your daughter’s wedding, you can’t avoid Taehyung.

PAIRING: ex-husband!Taehyung x reader

GENRE: angst, smut

RATING: E

WARNINGS: angst | infidelity | arguing | smut | unprotected sex | use of flashbacks im not sure about | emotional sex | crying during sex

WORD COUNT: 9.4k

A/N: i hope you guys like this!! i was pretty uncertain about posting it because it’s not really like my other work, and I wasn’t sure if i was doing the flashbacks well. Thank you to my lovely betas @taetaesbaebaepsae​ @detectivebts​ @sweetnspicy93 and @moonmintrails​, @dreamystuffers​ for the banner and @kigurumu​ and @jkeuphoriadreamland​ for encouraging me to post it!! Without them the preview wouldn’t even have made it onto Tumblr.

“You look beautiful today, baby.” You were barely holding it together at this point, blinking hard to keep the tears from falling and ruining your makeup. In all fairness to you, your baby girl was getting married. Sunmi looked resplendent in her designer dress, and the entire ceremony was amazing. No expense had been spared – after all, it wasn’t every day that Kim Taehyung’s only daughter got married.

“Thank you, mom,” Sunmi said, squeezing your hand, her own eyes looking a little glossy.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart, and I love you so much.”

Your heartfelt moment with your daughter was interrupted by her father knocking and entering the door. Even after all these years, Taehyung was handsome and stately, and looking at him made your heart skip a beat. The graying of his hair didn’t detract from his attractiveness, giving him a distinguished air, and the crow’s feet had the same effect.

It was really too bad he was your ex-husband.

The thought made your expression tighten, although in the name of maintaining a cordial façade, you kept the smile on your face. “Taehyung,” you greeted coolly. “I’ll give you two some privacy,” you said, turning back to Sunmi and squeezing her shoulder. Normally, you’d have kissed her on the cheek but you didn’t want to mess up her makeup or yours.

“Y/n, please stay.” Taehyung tried to stop you, but you were insistent, stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind you. Leaning your back against the solid wood, you let out a gusty sigh, his words having brought back memories you’d really prefer to leave behind.

-----------------------------

“Y/n, please stay,” Taehyung begged, both hands grabbing yours as tears streamed down his face. You were equally determined to leave, though – the room, the country, the marriage you’d just witnessed imploding in front of your eyes.

Why, why had you thought that it would be a good idea to come surprise Taehyung on the last day of his tour? Your eyes met the gaze of the other woman in his hotel room over his head. She was perched on the bed, watching with rapt attention at what was happening, and you could just hear the thoughts going through her head.

So this is what Kim Taehyung’s fabled wife looks like, you could see it written all over her face. She’s nothing compared to me.

And she was right, you knew. She was in her early twenties, perfectly made up and coiffed, wearing a tight miniskirt you could have poured yourself into ten years ago but couldn’t anymore. In the teddy you’d bought specially for tonight, you knew she could see every tiny detail of your body, even the bits you didn’t really like, like the stretch marks visible under the sheer fabric of your belly and the thighs that weren’t as firm as they’d been when you first started dating Taehyung.

“Taehyung, let go.” They were the first words you’d said to him tonight, and they just made him cling to you harder as he sobbed. You gritted your teeth and pulled your hand back. If you didn’t get out of here soon, you would burst into tears right alongside him, and you didn’t want to show him that side of you. Not anymore.

Not after he’d betrayed your trust so completely with another woman.

He shook his head frantically. “No, please, please.” You could barely make out the words, he was crying so hard. Part of you wanted to drop to your knees next to him to comfort him, pull him into your arms and rock back and forth. You’d been together for twelve years, after all, and old habits die hard.

But another glance at the hookup he’d brought back to his hotel room made up your mind. He certainly hadn’t cared about your relationship or his vows tonight, finding another girl to warm his bed. Sure, your relationship hadn’t been great for a while, and you took full ownership of your part of the blame for the state of your marriage, but you’d wanted to work on it. You’d flown to the States tonight to make it up to him, show him that you still cared, that you loved him and wanted to put in the effort to make things right.

Instead, you’d found him blowing up your marriage.

“My lawyers will contact yours.” It was the last thing you said before making your escape, the tears falling down your face the moment the door swung shut after you.

-----------------------------

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Sunmi said, taking in the dejected slant of Taehyung’s shoulders. The two of you had divorced when she was seven, and she’d never gotten the full story, but you could barely stand to be in the same room as your ex-husband. You were civil when necessary, but you avoided him as much as possible. It was such a far cry from her memories of when you two were together, when you’d been so close and happy.

“No, it’s okay.” Taehyung waved it away, forcing a smile out even though Sunmi could see that it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Today is about you, my love.” Turning to her, he pushed thoughts of his troubled relationship with you out of his mind so that he could pay his daughter the attention she deserved.

Sunmi still watched her father with concern, though, knowing how he got around you. It was a melancholy he wasn’t able to shake until hours after the fact, and it didn’t seem like it had gotten easier for either of you in the twenty years since you’d split up. Sure, you were able to put up a nice front when you couldn’t avoid each other, like at her dance recitals and graduation, but it was clear that neither of you had gotten closure from the divorce.

“Daddy…” Sunmi started, but Taehyung cut her off before she could say anything more.

“You’re so beautiful today, love. You look just like your mother.” Leaning in, he pressed a light kiss to her forehead.

“Thank you, daddy,” Sunmi said, starting to sniffle a little.

-----------------------------

From the moment Sunmi had entered this world, Taehyung had known two things: that she was the spitting image of her mother, and that he was, from that moment, irrevocably wrapped around her little finger.

He’d laughed about it with you, too – how much he loved spoiling her, how hard a time he had telling her no. Taehyung was a devoted father, had been from the start. He’d taken a year off from performing and promoting when she was born so that he could stay in Korea with his new family, especially after the difficult birth you’d had.

You both agreed that you would wait a few years before having more children. Pregnancy and childbirth had been difficult for you, and you weren’t quite ready to go through it again, especially now that you had a young daughter to look after. Still, you were equally committed to having a large family, something you’d been talking about since before marriage.

It was a shock, therefore, to find out after a year of trying for your second child that apparently it would be almost impossible for you to conceive and carry another child to term. You were devastated and so was Taehyung, and, admittedly, neither of you had handled it in the best way.

You could barely stand to look at Taehyung for months after, the guilt of not being able to give him what he wanted and the weight of your own disappointment too much for you to bear. You focused all your attention instead on the daughter you already had in a bid to avoid your husband, and you’d be the first to admit that that hadn’t been the best way to deal with things. Not when Taehyung was grieving the loss of his dream too.

With his wife slipping, it seemed, further out of reach every day, Taehyung did the only thing it felt like he could do. He threw himself into his work, which was made easier by the fact that Jungkook was away serving in the military and Namjoon’s wife had just given birth to the couple’s first child.

By the time he left for that world tour, you were barely speaking to your husband and it felt like you were roommates and acquaintances more than husband and wife. He wanted to fix it, but he didn’t know how to, and you were stubbornly resistant to any attempts to reconcile. It was frustrating, to say the least – he wanted to be there for you, but he didn’t know how to help.

-----------------------------

Taehyung, seated at the table with his family and former band members, watched wistfully as you stood up to toast the happy couple. He didn’t think he’d seen you smile so happily since before the divorce, back when things had been good between the two of you.

“Sunmi and Michael,” you started. “I want to start by congratulating you both. Today has been a beautiful day, and the love you have for each other and for everyone here today is so evident.”

“I remember when Sunmi told me that she was dating Michael – she was only a freshman in college in a foreign country, and I was excited and supportive, but at the time, I had no idea that this relationship would go so far. You have overcome so many obstacles to be together, some of which I’ve witnessed, and many, I’m sure, that I haven’t. Nevertheless, I can see that what you two share is a deep, strong love, that will withstand the test of time.

“If I may, as a mother, offer some advice – although I might not be the best person to give relationship advice,” you added wryly, to chuckles from the crowd, “I know you have the basics covered. Be slow to anger and quick to forgive and remember that you’re a team. But,” you went on, your eyes flicking to Taehyung just for a second, “marriage is difficult, and it takes work. Trust that you’ve got each other’s backs, and communicate about everything, no matter how hard it seems at the time.”

Taehyung’s gaze softened, knowing that it was an implicit apology for your role in the breakdown of your marriage. He was the one who’d ultimately blown it up, something he’d accepted a long time ago, but neither of you had acted like model spouses.

“I believe with all my heart that this is a relationship that will go the distance, and it is my honour to make the first toast to the happy couple!” You concluded, raising your glass of champagne. Everyone in the room followed suit, and you smiled again at them before sitting down.

Jimin leaned over. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung replied quietly. He was better than okay. In fact, he felt lighter than he had in years.

-----------------------------

“Are you sure this is okay?” you asked for what must have been the hundredth time today. Taehyung couldn’t quite blame you – when you’d gotten married, you’d given up your dream of a family picnic along the Han River Park. There was no way in hell Kim Taehyung wouldn’t be recognized in a public place like that, so it wasn’t feasible at all.

It wasn’t like you were giving up a whole lot – he could afford to take your whole family to resorts, safaris, you name it. Still, the little girl in you that had so many precious memories at the Han River Park with your own family and friends wanted to recreate it with your own children.

Which was why he’d made this plan for your fifth anniversary. He’d called your assistant to let her know to cancel all your appointments today and booked out the entire park so you could finally have the family picnic you’d always dreamed of. It wouldn’t be exactly the same, of course. The rest of the park was basically deserted. But this was so much more than you’d expected, and you almost couldn’t believe that he’d managed to do this.

When you expressed this to your husband, he just smugly noted that you continued to underestimate him even after eight years of being together.

“Of course,” you noted drily. “You are the very epitome of extra.” Still, you leaned over Sunmi’s head to kiss him in a manner that suggested that you’d be doing a lot more if not for the child sitting between you.

“Mommy!” Sunmi cried shrilly, and you broke away from your husband to give your daughter the attention she demanded.

“Yes, baby?”

“I wanna ride the bicycle!” Sunmi told you, pointing out the car window at the bike rental shop.

“Okay, baby,” you agreed easily.

After the bicycle ride, you settled down for a picnic, letting Sunmi gorge herself on fried chicken and delivery food that she rarely got to indulge in because you were all about feeding her a nutritious, balanced diet.

By the time you left the park that evening, Sunmi was fast asleep in her daddy’s arms while you cleared your picnic area and walked next to Taehyung back to the car. The sunset painted the sky bright pink and orange, the fiery ball of the sun disappearing behind the bridge.

“Thank you for today, Tae,” you said, resting your hand on the small of his back as you stretched up to kiss him.

“It was my pleasure. Happy anniversary, my love.”

“Happy anniversary, Tae. I love you.”

-----------------------------

Watching from your table as the happy couple enjoyed their first dance together, you reached for your glass of wine. Being the mother of the bride was hard work, and you were taking the moment to appreciate that everything seemed to have gone off without a hitch. You had to give Taehyung credit where it was due – he’d always been a good father, and despite everything that had happened between you, he’d never let anything get in the way of his responsibilities as a dad. He’d truly spared no expense when it came to the wedding, and it showed.

After the first dance, the rest of the guests were invited to dance too, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You hadn’t brought a date to the wedding, not wanting to cause any drama with your ex-husband, his family and band members, and it seemed like he hadn’t either.

You didn’t make a habit of prying into his personal life – ever since the divorce, your interactions had been solely about Sunmi. You regretted it a little now, realizing that you’d lost your husband and best friend in one fell swoop, but back then, you’d been so hurt and angry, wanting to punish him as much as you’d needed the space to heal. In fact, this was the longest you’d been in the same room with him since the divorce proceedings.

-----------------------------

It was cold in the meeting room, and the air conditioning unit was incredibly loud, you noted mechanically. You looked around anxiously, picking at the skin around your nails – an awful habit that Taehyung had tried without avail for years to get you to quit. It was just you and your lawyer in here right now, since you’d come a little early to discuss the case with her, but you were expecting Taehyung to come in any moment now.

He didn’t want the divorce, you knew that. You could still hear his sobs ringing in your ears from the last time you’d met, when he chased you back to Korea and tried to apologize, explain, grovel.

When Taehyung and his lawyer came in, you stood up out of politeness, shaking hands with the lawyer.

“Taehyung,” you greeted tightly, your body wound tight. Your fight-or-flight instinct was already activated, and you were ready to throw down if necessary. Not that you really thought it’d be needed, but you really didn’t want him trying to cajole you out of this. Your mind was made up. How could your relationship continue if you couldn’t trust him anymore?

“Y/n,” he replied. You could hear the slight wobble in his voice, and for just a second, you felt bad. Despite everything that had happened, you still loved him, and some part of you didn’t want to hurt him. In fact, you had to fight the urge to round the table and pull him into a hug, like you’d used to when he was upset.

Swallowing hard, you took your seat instead, clasping your hands tightly together in your lap. You’d lost that right when you decided to end the marriage, you reminded yourself. It didn’t matter how much you wanted to comfort him. You couldn’t anymore, not when you were the cause of his pain. You’d never wanted to be that to him, but that was neither here nor there – you hadn’t wanted to catch your husband hooking up with another woman in a random hotel room either.

To your surprise, the division of assets went more smoothly than you’d expected. You’d heard horror stories of ridiculous fighting over every last penny and had steeled yourself for that. After all, despite your own professional success it was clear to everyone that the bulk of your combined income as a couple came from Taehyung. It wasn’t that you wanted to take him through the wringer or anything like that, but you didn’t want to be left out on the streets with Sunmi either.

There was no question that you would be awarded primary custody of your daughter – Taehyung’s job took him overseas for extended periods of time, even taking into account the fact that the group was slowing down now as the demands of real life grew.

The division of assets was challenging, but you ran into the opposite problem from what you had feared. Taehyung, once he’d accepted that this divorce was happening, seemed intent on heaping wealth on you. He tried to offer you the house – which you rejected, instead asking for an apartment that you jointly owned instead. The house would be difficult to maintain, you reasoned, which led to him offering to pay for all maintenance and even for cleaners. You also had to bargain the alimony payments down, to the surprise and amusement of your lawyers. You didn’t need any money from him, you maintained, though you did accept child support.

Still, because there was so little fighting between the two of you, it was over quickly, and the one meeting was enough to settle everything. The lawyers excused themselves, telling you that the final divorce agreement would be sent to you both to sign, and then you were alone.

“Y/n…” Taehyung’s voice was filled with anguish and sadness. “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” you acknowledged, swallowing back the tears.

“Do we have to do this? You know I’ll do whatever it takes for you to forgive me,” he pleaded. “I’ll quit the band, we can go for couples therapy… please, just don’t leave me.”

“Tae…” It was the last time you would call him that. “I can’t trust you anymore, you know that.”

“I understand.” It didn’t mean he liked it, though.

Reaching over, you squeezed his hand. You withdrew more slowly than was strictly necessary, but still too quickly for him, and he felt the loss of the warmth from your hand as if in slow motion, fighting back the almost desperate urge to cling to you and never let you leave him, because when you walked out the door, it would really be over.

But you didn’t want him anymore, and nothing he said could change your mind. He watched quietly as you left, taking in every detail of your departing figure before the closing door obstructed his vision, before he broke down in tears.

-----------------------------

With enough time and distance, you could admit that Taehyung was the love of your life. You’d had boyfriends before and after him, but no one had ever made you feel the way he had, like you were soaring above the ground, but unafraid because you knew he would be there to catch you.

Maybe that was why you’d fallen so hard, been hurt so badly. The betrayal coming from the person who’d sworn never to dishonor you had cut you open, and you’d never healed right.

Everyone at your table had gotten up to join the dance floor now, and you were sitting alone, watching.

Looking around, you signaled for a waiter to top up your glass of wine. Now that everything was pretty much done, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to get a little drunk – just to take the edge off the day you’d been having. As nice as the day had been and as proud as you were to watch your baby girl getting married… these events were difficult for you.

You kept remembering your own wedding day, when you’d been so incandescently happy to be marrying Taehyung. Back then, you too had thought you were entering a union that would last a lifetime. But your marriage had been unable to withstand the challenges that life had thrown at you, and all you’d been left with at the end was the broken shambles of a life to pick up and try to piece back together even though there was a giant hole in it.

You were frowning into your glass of wine when Taehyung came to sit next to you. “Hey,” he said quietly, and you turned your head to look at him.

“Hello,” you responded, your voice polite but cold, hoping he’d take the hint and leave you alone. You’d truly had enough, and you didn’t have the emotional strength today to sit and make small talk with Taehyung. Even after so many years, the wounds were still raw and painful.

If your ex-husband was anything, however, it was persistent. “It was a beautiful ceremony,” he pressed on.

“It was,” you agreed coolly. Your hands were resting on the table, and you moved them into your lap, fisting them in the fabric of your dress.

“It made me think of the day we got married.”

Before you knew it, you’d shot out of your seat, the visceral distress at hearing him say those words giving you a jolt of adrenaline. You had to get out of there. “Taehyung, please stop.”

“Y/n, please. You’ve basically ignored my existence for twenty years. I miss you. If you won’t give me anything else, at least let me talk to you tonight.”

When you opened your mouth to speak, your throat felt tight, and you knew you were going to cry. “I—I can’t,” you choked out, before bolting. You streaked out of the ballroom, your body on autopilot, the only thing on your mind getting out of there.

Taehyung watched as you ran from him, guilt stealing over his features. He’d never meant to cause you pain, now or then, but it seemed that was all he was able to do. All he’d been doing for a long time.

He looked around, wondering if anyone had noticed your disappearance and was going to go look for you, but it didn’t look like it – Sunmi and her husband were still wrapped up in each other, as they should be, and almost everyone else was either dancing or at the bar, already drunk.

Sighing, he got out of his seat. He was reluctant to chase you down since his insistence on speaking to you was what had upset you in the first place, but there was nobody else to do it. He just hoped that he would be able to hold it together to actually help you.

You might have let your body carry you wherever it wanted to go, but Taehyung walked with purpose. He had a pretty good idea of where you were, and his hunch was proven right when he saw you pacing by the pool. For some reason, you’d always had an affinity for pools.

“Y/n,” he called out, and you stopped your pacing to turn around.

“How did you find me so quickly?” you asked with a frown, and he shrugged.

“You haven’t changed much in twenty years.”

-----------------------------

Taehyung swallowed hard as he looked up at the house. For almost ten years now, this had been his home. But now as he approached, fishing his keys out of his backpack, he couldn’t help the trepidation that filled him, making his hands shake and his heart pound.

He didn’t know what to say to you, didn’t know how to fix this. With his heart sinking into his stomach, he admitted to himself for the first time that maybe this couldn’t be fixed.

God, he didn’t even know why he’d done that, gone out to get drunk and find some other girl to hook up with. He’d just been so lonely, and it had been so long since he’d had sex. Even before the tour, which had been nine months long, you two had been on such bad terms that you hadn’t slept together in months. It didn’t excuse his appalling lapse in judgement, though.

With a sigh, he opened the door and stepped into the house, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw all your shoes, still lined up neatly on the shelves. So, you hadn’t left, then.

Dropping his things on the floor, he made his way through the house. At the beginning of your relationship, he might have checked the bedroom or the couch – any of the usual places where someone might be moping – but now he knew better.

Just as he’d expected, you were sitting in a lounge chair by the pool out back, a bottle and a single wine glass on the side table next to you. You turned your head when you heard the sound of the door opening, though you didn’t bother greeting him. The pool area was dark, lit only by the moon and the light shining through the windows in the house.

As he drew closer, he saw that your face was stained with tears, but your eyes were dry.

“Y/n,” he greeted uncertainly, drawing closer.

“You’re here,” you observed, your voice impassive. No hello, no welcome home.

“I had to talk to you, to apologize. Please, Y/n, I—” In his desperation, his voice grew louder, and in response you drew back, folding your arms across your chest and pulling your legs in, turning your face away from his stubbornly.

“I think everything there is to be said has been said.”

“No, Y/n, please, it was a mistake, I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.” Taehyung sat at the edge of the lounge chair, and your shoulders hunched over more tightly, betraying your discomfort.

“Well, you did. Please leave,” you requested.

“Y/n, please, talk to me,” he begged, reaching out to put his hand on your knee, before thinking better of it and pulling back. His fists clenched in his lap.

“I said everything I had to say last night. I don’t want to see you right now.” Your voice was tightly controlled. You didn’t want him to see you falling apart. He didn’t get to know how heartbroken you were, how he’d destroyed you.

“Divorce?! Y/n, please. I made a mistake and I know it was bad, but we can get through this, can’t we? We can figure it out. I’ll do anything, I swear.” His voice trembled helplessly, and he felt cold all over. It felt like he was falling to pieces in front of you, and you wouldn’t help. “I’ll work to earn your forgiveness, I swear.” You could hear the earnestness in his voice and knew that he was telling the truth. If Taehyung was anything, it was a hard worker, and you knew he would dedicate himself to this task like he’d never done before.

But it wasn’t enough. “I can’t. I can’t get past this, Taehyung.” With those words, you got up and walked away from him again, leaving him in the dark. By the time he managed to marshal the strength to move his body, you were gone from the house. He didn’t see you again until the division of assets.

-----------------------------

“Taehyung…” Your voice trailed off, your shoulders hunching around your ears uncomfortably. You knew you were both recalling that night, when he’d begged you to forgive him, or at least give him a chance to earn your forgiveness, and you’d rejected him flatly.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” His next words surprised you somewhat. You’d been expecting him to continue with your earlier topic of conversation. This, though, wasn’t necessarily better. The words echoed in your head and turned into his desperate, sobbed apologies of twenty years ago. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You inclined your head in a stiff nod, grudgingly accepting his apology and hoping he would leave you to your thoughts. Why did he still do this to you? He’d been your ex-husband now for longer than you’d been together, and yet you remained so easily affected by him.

Damn Kim Taehyung, you thought suddenly, viciously. He’d sunk his claws into you thirty-two years ago and had never let you go. With the sudden flash of anger and resentment fueling you, you bit out, “You never do.”

Right in front of your eyes, Taehyung seemed to deflate. His shoulders slumped and he put his hands in his pocket, head bowed. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again. When you made your speech earlier, he’d genuinely thought that you were extending an olive branch to him. It was why he’d tried again to talk to you. It seemed like, not for the first time, he was wrong. “I’ll leave you alone, then.”

With that, he turned and started to walk away. Cursing your inability to let him go, you called out to him. “Wait, Taehyung.”

He spun around so quickly you felt a little dizzy on his behalf. “What is it?” he asked earnestly, his eyes wide.

“That was mean of me to say, and it was uncalled for. I’m sorry.”

He shrugged awkwardly, scuffing his shoe on the floor. “Don’t be. I understand that you still hate me. I would too.”

Since it seemed like tonight was a night for spilling secrets, yours tumbled out of your mouth thoughtlessly. “I don’t hate you. I couldn’t.”

His reaction was so dramatic it was almost comical. His eyes widened, his jaw dropped, and he took a half-step towards you before stopping short, not sure what to do with that information. “But—but you…”

Cringing as awareness of what you’d told him filtered back into your brain, you turned away, trying to hide your embarrassment.

“Y/n, talk to me, please,” he pleaded. “I just want to understand.” You could hear from his voice and footsteps that he was approaching you, and he stopped just a few paces away, wanting to be closer but trying not to overcrowd you.

“Stop it, Tae,” you said, the old nickname slipping out in your distraction. It didn’t even register with you as you grappled with your emotions, trying to rein them in, but he had to moderate his voice to stop the joy from coming through.

“If you tell me to go I will, Y/n, but I’m just curious. I’ve spent the past twenty years thinking you hated me for what I did. I mean, you’ve barely been able to look at me for all this time.”

“Taehyung…” You turned back to him, then noted the intensity of his gaze with some surprise. It compelled you to speak, like it always had. “I never hated you. I couldn’t. I can’t.”

“Then… then why?” His voice broke on the last word, his voice filled with hurt and confusion.

You gave him a small shrug. “I couldn’t trust you anymore.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t understand why I didn’t think you were trustworthy after finding you about to hook up with a girl while you were on tour?” You rolled your eyes derisively. “It’s not rocket science, Tae. Was that even the first time?”

“What—Yes!” he yelled. “I swear to God, Y/n. It was a mistake. A shitty, terrible mistake, and one that I apologized for a million times. But you wouldn’t even listen to me, and I thought it was because you hated me, but now… we could have worked this out, couldn’t we?” The raw longing in his voice made you look away from him, because your eyes were filling with tears.

“Stop it,” you choked. “This is ancient history. There’s no point in bringing it up.”

“Y/n, it may be ‘ancient history’ to you, but there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about it. I love you, and I never stopped, even though everything went so wrong. I know you don’t have to do this. You can walk away right now, and I won’t chase you, I swear. But if you don’t mind, I really, really want to know what was going through your mind then.”

You bit your lip, your face still turned away from him, as you thought about it. For twenty years you’d hidden your tears from him, but if you decided to accede to his request, that ended tonight. Were you strong enough?

“Love… isn’t enough for a relationship, Tae. How was I supposed to trust you after what I saw?” You picked at an imaginary loose thread on your dress.

“Love? You still loved me after that?” Incredulity coloured his voice. You didn’t blame him – you hadn’t exactly shown it, instead pushing him away relentlessly.

“Taehyung…” Your voice caught. You’d always known, intellectually, that you’d hurt him, but seeing his anguish written all over his face made it real. “You’re the love of my life. I could never stop loving you.”

“Y/n…” Taehyung felt like his soul had left his body. Moving completely on autopilot, he took a step forward, then another, until he was standing right in front of you, one hand on your waist. “Please,” he whispered, his other hand cupping your cheek, before leaning down to kiss you.

You wanted to push him away and run off, screaming, but instead your eyes fluttered shut as he brushed his lips against yours gently, your hands reaching out to grasp his shirt. “Tae,” you said, your voice basically a wisp of air, when he pulled back.

“Thank you,” he rasped, starting to step back. As pathetic as it sounded, that tiny, chaste kiss was enough to last him the rest of his life.

It wasn’t enough for you, though. You’d forgotten – forced yourself to forget – what it felt like to have him pressed against you, towering over you, worshipping you with every caress. All of that had been tainted when you saw him with that other nameless girl, but having him here with you now, twenty years later, you felt the first inklings of doubt. After so much time and everything that had happened, he was still here with you, begging you to talk to him. It was clear that he loved you and you certainly felt the same way about him, and for the first time, you asked yourself – could love be enough?

When he made to move away, you tightened your fingers in the fabric of his shirt, holding him close. Taehyung looked down at you with surprise. “Y/n… what is it?” he asked.

Instead of answering him in words, you pulled him flush to your body and kissed him again, releasing his shirt in favour of winding your arms around his neck as his body collided into yours. Unlike the last one, this wasn’t a gentle, chaste peck. Your kiss was filled with all the longing and passion of the past twenty years, and Taehyung couldn’t help but react, his hands gripping your waist as he deepened the kiss hungrily.

You moaned into the kiss, a high-pitched, needy sound, as your arms tightened around his neck, pulling him yet closer to you. Hearing it, Taehyung tightened his grip on your waist, shuddering as he rolled his hips helplessly against you.

Breaking away from the kiss, Taehyung rested his forehead against yours, your breath mingling with his in the small space between your faces. “Y/n,” he panted.

“Tae,” you whined, your arms dropping to your sides as you hooked your fingers in his belt loops. “I missed you so much.”

He swore under his breath. This seemed like the reconciliation he’d dreamed of for so many years, but something was off. He’d always been able to tell with you, and he knew he didn’t have the whole story yet. It would be irresponsible and selfish for him to pursue this while you were clearly still in a fragile state, and as much as some dark part of him wanted to, he couldn’t do that to you.

So he took a step back and sucked in a deep breath to regain his composure – then almost lost it promptly when he saw you staring at him with that dark, intense gaze that haunted his dreams. “Stop looking at me like that,” he grumbled, ducking his head to hide his flush. “I’m trying to be good.”

“Could have tried that twenty years ago,” you muttered, but Taehyung, being so close to you, heard. The words cut through the haze in his mind like a knife and he dropped his arms to his sides immediately, turning away from you to hide how much your words had hurt him. He knew he deserved it, but the pain of hearing how much you hated him, dashing the new, timid hope growing in his chest like grass in the spring… it devastated him.

“Y/n… I’m sorry,” he choked, his hands balling into fists. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for doing that, and for hurting you, and if there was one thing in my life I could take back, it would be that. I’ve apologized a million times over; I’ve offered to leave you alone tonight. You were the one who initiated that kiss. I just—I don’t know what you want from me.

“I can’t do this anymore. I love you so much, and even though you say you love me, you’ll never forgive me. It just… it hurts so much, knowing that nothing I say or do will ever be enough to make it better.”

His words tore through you, shredding your anger and resentment like tissue. Your hurt may be old, but his… it was fresh, and every time you rejected his company or made a snide remark, it was like rubbing salt in his wounds. You knew he was sorry, that he regretted it, and sometimes even you wondered why that wasn’t enough for you.

Darting forward, you grasped his large fist, cupping it between your hands. “Taehyung, I’m sorry.” Your words were sincere and heartfelt, and you gripped his hand tightly, like you were afraid he would leave – and why wouldn’t he? He’d made you feel like you weren’t enough once, and you’d walked away from him. Really, how could you blame him for doing the same thing?

“I know I wasn’t a perfect wife.” It was the first time you’d ever admitted it out loud. “It doesn’t excuse what you did, but learning that I couldn’t have more children was heartbreaking for me.”

Taehyung stopped short. You’d never acknowledged this before. Without thinking about it, he uncurled his fingers to hold your hand, giving you what support he could as the confession spilled from your lips.

“I know you wanted children, a big family. Finding out that I couldn’t give you that…” Your voice broke, and Taehyung reacted, turning to draw you into his arms. You nestled in his embrace like you’d never left, your body fitting perfectly against his.

“I felt like I wasn’t enough.” You’d been carrying this secret hurt inside you for so long, and to say it out loud gave you a sense of relief, as if a crushing weight had been lifted from your chest.

“Y/n…” Taehyung’s voice was thick with emotion. He wanted to tell you that you were wrong, that you’d always been enough for him, but he couldn’t find the words.

“And seeing you with her… it just made it so much worse.” You were sobbing now, your fists clenched as you cried into his shirtfront, reliving the anguish you’d felt at believing yourself inadequate, how much you’d hated him even as you loved him like you’d never loved anyone before or since. How could someone you’d let into the deepest recesses of your soul use that power to hurt you so badly, you’d wondered. That night had been a confirmation of every secret fear you’d let fester for a year, and you’d run from the hurt as fast and as far as you could.

As much as he wanted to sink to his knees, Taehyung forced himself to remain standing, so you could lean on him. It was the one thing he could offer you, and even though it was laughably insufficient to fend off the wave of guilt that crashed over him, he forced himself to, tucking your head under his chin and gathering you up like he could shield you from the pain.

“Y/n… you’ve always been enough for me. Only you could be enough for me. And I’m sorry.” His voice broke on the last word. For the first time, words couldn’t capture the depth of his remorse, how fucking bad he felt. He would gladly tear out his heart and present it to you if it made you feel just a tiny bit better. It had always been yours, anyway.

Even though Taehyung had apologized to you countless times before, this was the first time you truly believed it, and the sorrow and remorse in his voice filtered through the haze of hurt and anger that you’d been living under for decades. He held onto you like you’d evaporate if he let you step out of his arms, like he was going to hug you for the next twenty years, for all the time he had missed.

You stayed like that for five minutes, just soaking in each other’s presence and comfort, but eventually common sense began coming back to you. “Taehyung,” you sniffled, wriggling slightly in his grasp.

“Just a little longer, please,” he begged, the words whispered into your hair.

“Taehyung, we can’t stay out here.”

He whined, sounding incredibly childlike and not at all like the distinguished middle-aged man he was. “I don’t want this to end,” he pouted.

“Tae—”

He cut you off by squeezing you so tightly you squeaked as the air left your lungs. Rolling your eyes fondly – some things never changed, it seemed – you squirmed determinedly until he had no choice but to let you go, and he stared at you with a bereft gaze.

“Come on, you drama queen,” you said, holding your hand out to him. He perked up visibly and put his hand in yours, not even questioning where you were taking him.

Taking him to your hotel room felt familiar, but new and exciting at the same time. It brought to your mind memories of sneaking around back when you’d first started dating, when he would come over to your apartment in the middle of the night, and you’d smuggle him in, giggling the whole time.

It wasn’t like you were necessarily doing anything wrong – both of you were single, adults, and this time, there weren’t any pesky contractual obligations to keep all relationships out of the public eye. Catching the divorced parents of the bride sneaking off together might raise a couple of eyebrows, though.

Taehyung wound his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder to watch as you fiddled with the key card. Now that you were back in his arms, he found himself basically unable to give it up, hungrily soaking in all the physical contact he’d dreamt of for so long. When you managed to get the door open and stepped through, he refused to let go, instead doing a strange crab-walk while still clinging to you.

“Tae,” you giggled, your hands resting on his arms. “You need to let go.”

“Never,” he insisted, burying his face in your neck. “Not letting you go again,” he said, his voice muffled.

“Tae…” your voice trailed off as you focused on taking off your shoes, which was made more difficult by the new limpet you’d acquired. Now a few inches shorter, you turned in his embrace and tilted your head up to brush your nose against his. The cute gesture was somewhat undermined by the way he immediately claimed your lips in a torrid kiss, his large hand splayed across the back of your head, and you knew that if not for the updo your hair was currently welded into, he would already be tugging on it.

“I missed you so much,” he groaned, his hand sliding from your head to the top of the zipper on the back of your dress. Instead of sliding it down, though, he paused, fiddling nervously with the tab.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, opening your eyes as you pulled back slightly.

“Are you sure you want this?”

You took a step back, out of his grasp, so you could get a better look at him. “Are you?”

Taehyung hesitated. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous about this. It was what he’d wanted for years, right?

“Tae…” As always, you could read him perfectly, and you held out your hand to him. “Come talk to me. What’s bothering you?” You led him to the couch, sitting down on the mattress facing him. He refused to let go of your hand, and you had to lean forward awkwardly.

“You won’t leave again, right?” he asked anxiously, and your brows shot up in surprise. His gaze continued darting around the room, refusing to settle on you, and you got up, closing the distance between you as you sat sideways on his lap.

“Tae, what are you talking about?” you asked, your fingers winding into the short hairs at the nape of his neck and stroking softly, the way you remembered he liked.

His lip wobbled, and you wanted to kiss it better. “I don’t want you to leave me again,” he confessed.

“Tae… this is my room. I’m not going anywhere,” you pointed out, and the slightly exasperated side-eye he gave you had you biting your lip to stifle a smirk. Becoming serious now, you added, “I promise I won’t disappear, okay? We can take things slow, and see where it goes,” before you pulled him close and gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek.

This wasn’t exactly what Taehyung wanted, but he supposed it was reasonable. Acquiescing, he turned to kiss you properly, allowing it to grow heated. You moved to straddle him, but the long dress made it difficult, and you hiked it up around your hips impatiently. Taehyung ran his tongue along your bottom lip and you moaned, heat pooling in your lower belly.

The sound spurred Taehyung to drag you closer to him, his hands kneading the flesh around your hips hungrily. You felt a flash of self-consciousness – the last time he’d seen you naked was decades ago, and your body had definitely changed since then, and not for the better. The greedy way he felt you up with the same hunger as he had back in your twenties when everything was new and exciting, though, banished the insecurities from your mind quickly.

Still kissing him, you ran your hands up his chest, delighting in how firm and solid he still was, before tugging his tie loose and dropping it carelessly somewhere. You attacked the buttons on his shirt impatiently, almost too excited to work them properly. Taehyung wasn’t faring any better, having roughly pulled your zipper all the way down – you gave a silent prayer for the nice zipper on the expensive dress, because if it had gotten caught, he would probably have ripped the whole thing.

You let go of him just long enough to allow him to push the dress off your shoulders so it pooled around your waist, and shivered as he put his hands on your bare skin, running them up your back to pop open the clasp of your bra.

“Tae,” you whined, tugging on his shirt, and he chuckled as he moved to help you with the rest of the buttons while you shrugged the straps of your bra off, tossing it behind you somewhere. His undershirt went the same way, and you moaned when his bare chest made contact with yours, kissing him frantically as you squirmed on top of him.

Taehyung wasn’t unaffected – you could feel his hard-on pressing against your thigh as he fondled your breast, rubbing his thumb against your pebbled nipple. “Fuck, Y/n,” he groaned in that deep, raspy baritone that you’d missed so much, his hands dropping to your thighs as he held you against him, standing up and depositing you on the bed. You gasped in surprise – you’d always enjoyed being manhandled by him, and were impressed that he was still able to lift you up so easily.

Instead of joining you immediately, he yanked your dress all the way off, letting it pool on the floor, before reaching for his belt. He wasn’t able to get it off before you hooked your fingers in his belt loops and yanked him towards you impatiently, causing him to lose his balance and fall on you. “Y/n,” he grumbled, though there was laughter in his voice. He pushed himself up on his hands, looking down at you, and you undid his belt with far greater dexterity than you’d handled his shirt buttons.

Pulling the leather through the loops – and shivering at the whistling sound the belt made, a familiar one from your more adventurous romps from days past – you dropped it beside you before working on his trousers.

“Someone’s impatient,” Taehyung teased, and you scoffed at him.

“You’re one to talk,” you retorted, and he didn’t respond immediately, but that might have been because you plunged your hand into his underwear to grasp his hard cock. Taehyung had always been big, and you clenched on yourself as you remembered what it had felt like to have him stretching you open. God, how you’d missed him, pined for him on those long, lonely nights.

You pumped his cock slowly, running your thumb across the head to collect the pre-cum already beading there and listening to him growl and pant above you, long fingers diving into your panties to stroke you eagerly as his lips returned to yours. He found you wet and sticky already, dipping his fingers in the orifice before returning to circle your clit with all the expertise you’d come to expect after almost a decade of marriage. Some things were embedded in your muscle memory and being with each other felt like that.

Because you knew it would drive him wild, you released his erection, causing him to pull away to look down at you questioningly. With a smirk, you raised your hand to your mouth, dragging the pad of your thumb across your tongue. “Hmm,” you cooed, your eyes fluttering shut. “You taste just as good as I remember.”

“Fuck.” The expletive punched out of Taehyung with the last of the oxygen in his lungs, leaving him breathless. You were so flawless, perfect for him in every way, and he couldn’t wait anymore. He pulled your panties off so hard that they ripped before pushing his own boxers down just far enough to release his painful erection. The head was flushed bright red, the veins standing out along the length, and your mouth watered, but that wasn’t what he was going for right now.

As he pushed your thighs apart with his own, one hand snaked around his cock, stroking it a few times to take the edge off. You both watched, enthralled, as he slid the head of his erection along your slit, gathering up the wetness, before pressing into you. The stretch was immediate, tears springing to your eyes as you tensed up in response.

“Fuck, Y/n, you’re so tight,” Taehyung gritted, leaning down to kiss you. His tongue slid against yours filthily, making you moan, as his fingers reached between you to rub your clit. “I missed you, I love you, I love you,” he groaned as he sank into you, your heels pressing against the small of his back and egging him on. You’d half expected him to pound you into tomorrow after the urgency of the foreplay, but he seemed content to take it slow, kissing you and caressing your side as he thrust almost lazily. He buried his face in your neck and you stroked his hair as your breath caught on the pleasure.

“Taehyung,” you breathed, your voice hitching as he brushed against your g-spot. Of course he remembered exactly where it was, you thought fondly. “I love you so much,” you confessed, the words hanging in the air. He didn’t respond to you, continuing the smooth motions of his hips, and you wondered if he was even listening to you, but then you heard it.

A sob, muffled against your neck. The sound made you panic, and you pushed at his shoulders so that you could look at him. He resisted a little, but you kept stroking your hands down his sides to reassure him. “Tae, are you okay? Is this okay?”

Finally, he lifted himself off you, but immediately went in for another kiss, this time tender and sweet, his lips moving gently against yours. “Say that again?” he requested, and you could see the tears shining in his eyes.

“Tae, I love you,” you moaned as he drove into you harder, gripping your thigh as he angled himself to hit your g-spot again. He was rushing for the finishing line now, you could tell, as he reached back down to thumb at your clit with unerring precision. Your confession had done it for him, but he would not cum before you. It had to be perfect, the best beginning to your future together.

“Again,” he breathed, needing to hear the words from you once more, and you acquiesced, repeating it with each thrust, until the pleasure grew too great and you just gasped and moaned instead, spelling your love for him out in the scratches on his back and the way your heels drummed against him, begging him to get closer, deeper inside of you, to never leave.

“Tae—fuck,” you cried out as you crested, clenching hard on his cock in you as your arms and legs tightened around him. In that instant, as close as he was to you, you needed more, tears springing to your eyes at the feeling of his hands and mouth on you after so long, gentle but sure, reverent yet debased.

Feeling you orgasm around him was too much for his already faltering restraint, and with a final thrust, he came, shuddering in your arms as he shot ropes of cum deep inside you.

In the aftermath, Taehyung sank down on you, and though you knew you wouldn’t be able to stay like this forever, you welcomed his weight pressing you into the bed. He almost surrounded you, his warmth comforting, and you stroked his back as he caught his breath.

A moment later, he lifted himself off you, seeking another kiss which you happily gave him. He tucked an errant strand of hair that had stuck itself to your sweaty cheek behind your ear, and you smiled up at him, eyes shining. As amazing as the sex was, Taehyung had always shown the extent of his love for you through those tender, soft touches that came like second nature to him.

“I love you,” he told you again, emotion shimmering in his eyes. You were tempted to be cheeky and say I know, because he’d told you so many times tonight, but you could sense the vulnerability radiating off him and knew this wasn’t the right moment for your sass.

“I love you too,” you told him instead, reaching up to cup his face and brushing your thumb against his cheekbone to wipe the tear that escaped. There was so much more you had to talk about – establishing boundaries and rules for this new old relationship, clearing the air between you. Hell, after twenty years apart, who knew if you were still compatible with each other?

However, you pushed all those thoughts away as you hugged Taehyung’s sweaty, exhausted body closer to you. Just for tonight, you promised yourself, you would let love be enough.

[feliix]

more than friends (with benefits) ↠ felix

↠ Felix x Reader

↠ Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst, FWB!AU

↠ Rating: M (18+) ↠ Word Count: 2k

↠ Summary: You always thought being friends with benefits with Felix was a dream. At least, that was until the benefits starting outweighing the friendship and your feelings got sucked in.

↠ Warnings: friends to lovers, fwb to lovers, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, praise, multiple orgasms, mutual pining

↠ A/N: hi sorry this is very unedited I might go in and fix stuff later sorry Im lazy right now and banner creds to me okay enjoy!

“So wet for me,” his deep, gravelly voice fills your ears, the room spinning around you with each buck of his hips. Teeth sinking into your lip, you grasp for the sheets beside you. His rhythm is quick, persistent, and you’re unable to catch your breath.

“Felix,” his name leaves your lips in a high pitched whine. It's getting harder to hold on with a pace like this. Had you not already cum twice just tonight, maybe your stamina would be a bit higher. But the familiar knot in your stomach is getting tighter and tighter as his thrusts persist. 

It's not long until you're coming undone around him. The force of his hips driving into you, the firm grip his hand has on your ass sets you aflame. Just a few more powerful ruts; he’s angling himself just right to hit that sweet spot deep inside you. And that's when your legs begin to shake, the force from your third orgasm taking over.

A gentle scream escapes your mouth as you ride out your high, Felix’s pace only quickening to grant himself an orgasm of his own. Oversensitivity sets in quickly causing your eyes to slam shut in dismay; mind blurry with small white stars as your pussy continues to spasm around him.

“So fucking tight,” Felix’s thrusts persist through your orgasm, leaving your legs shaking and all you can offer is the tightening spasms of your pussy. You clench around him rapidly, enticing him to come to his finish. “ Fuck, baby. Such a good slut for me.”

Unable to catch your breath as your orgasm begins to subside, the sound of his voice shooting right to your core and letting out an extra gush of arousal. Felix takes this as a sign to go harder, busing himself by pounding into you. Each time his hips meet your ass he leaves a gentle slap on your supple skin. When he bottoms out your back arches instinctively. The pressure of his tip on your sweet spot drives you wild, your fingers grabbing for the sheets underneath you to hold onto. 

But him fucking you from behind causes you to miss the sweet contortion of his face as he reaches his high. You can only feel the grip he has on your waist tighten, the pads of his fingers pressing deeply into your skin as he ruts into you with such fervor. 

He doesn’t pull out, you’ve already told him that he doesn’t have to. All that's on your mind is being filled to the brim with Felix’s cum. “Fuck,” you’re aching for his release, squeezing your core as hard as you can to ease it from him, “want you to fill me up.”

With a few especially hard thrusts Felix is collapsing over you, holding you close as his cum paints your walls. The pace of his thrusts slows as soon as his hot body presses against yours, eyes fluttering shut as you both come down from your highs.

If you didn't feel his heavy breathing fanning over the back of your neck you may have forgotten where you were. The labored sound of breathing fills the room around you. His rapid heartbeat pounds against your back; it's slowing now, that's how you know he’s about to pull out.

It's the same routine every time. He comes over, you fuck, you cuddle, he leaves.

Which is okay, the two of you aren’t dating or anything. You’re friends with benefits; emphasis on the benefits half and a little less stress on the friends part. This isn’t how it’s always been. Things used to be the other way around, ironically. 

Felix was your best friend, it wasn’t until you initiated this little arrangement that things changed. 

It’s a blur how it all came about actually. Just one day you got a little too worked up while looking at his plush lips, making a move and changing the dynamic between the two of you forever. After letting him fuck you once, you never came back from that.

The Netflix nights faded into the dark as the Netflix & chill nights came more frequently. It isn’t something that you noticed at first, you were into it, gosh, why wouldn't you be? So many girls would love to be in your place – hooking up with their highly attractive guy best friend. But over time you began to miss the relationship you used to have. Watching a movie without pausing halfway through to have sex is unheard of now. You can’t remember the last time you were actually able to do that. 

The worst part is you think you might be missing something else. The more you hookup the more you find yourself longing for him – not just his touch. When he leaves, you feel lonely. Not just the ‘I’m alone’ lonely, either. You want to be with him all the time, spend time doing fun couple-y things in addition to the hot sex you have every night. You want more from this, you need to be more than friends.

And before you know it, Felix’s body is relaxing as he pulls out of you slowly, a trail of cum following in its path beginning to drip down your thigh. A deep sigh leaves your lips when the weight of Felix’s body flops down onto the mattress next to you. You want him to know you’re bothered, you’re just too scared to bring it up on your own.

It doesn’t seem that he notices, though, he just lets out an exhausted grunt in return. In a split second reaction, you sigh again, trying to cover it up by extending your limbs to look like you’re stretching. The second one may have been a bit too dramatic; Felix noticed it this time, the look on his face riddled with confusion.

“Something wrong?”

Oh, great. Well, you got what you wanted, not having to start the conversation but you’ll definitely be the one to ruin it. You could just deflect, say ‘nothing’ and carry on the way you were – but that won’t do much to help your own feelings. 

“Actually, yeah.”

The phrase surprises you just as much as it surprises Felix, you just do a better job of covering it up than he does. His eyes are wide, head turned in your direction now as he begins to sit up. Luckily both of your clothes were in close vicinity – this probably isn't a conversation that neither of you wants to have naked.

Or have in general, for that matter. But getting dressed is a nice way to avoid eye contact, which seems to be the only thing you’ll be able to avoid in this awkward moment.

“What’s up?”

The concern in his voice is prevalent. He’s doing what he can to stay calm but deep down he’s worried. The meek thought of you cutting him off crosses Felix’s mind briefly; a pang of anxiety cuts through him like a knife. And he doesn’t do a great good job of hiding it, but thankfully you’re too caught up in putting on a shirt that you don't notice. 

Guilt starts eating away at you once you realize what you’re doing, what you’re about to tell him. This could ruin everything between you. You don’t think he’ll cut you off, no; but chances are you tell him and things will change forever. The second you speak up about it will determine your future with Felix – if there even is one.

“Have you ever thought about,” your voice stalls, letting a deep breath pause your thoughts in an attempt to ease your mind, “not just having sex anymore?”

“You wanna stop hooking up?” 

“N-no, that's not what I meant!” The words fly out of your mouth more forceful than you intended, and before you're able to stop yourself from spilling them. A puzzled look quickly crosses Felix’s face as he waits for you to continue. There’s a strange tension beginning to surround you, making your palms sweat and stomach twist. 

The air is feeling heavier as thoughts are flooding through your mind. The longer you prolong this conversation the more it's going to hurt you in the end, “Things have just...changed.” 

His head nods along with your words, bottom lip caught between his teeth as his face sinks. Somewhere along the timeline of between being best friends and friends with benefits, that friendship you had was lost. It isn't just you who realized that.

“Because I have feelings for you?”

“Y-you what?” 

You have to pinch yourself to make sure that this is real and what you heard Felix just said was true. But he finds humor in your response, a breathy chuckle leaving his lips as your jaw slowing drops. All this time and you both have been oblivious to each other's feelings…

“I thought you knew that…” His voice is soft, trailing off at the end as embarrassment creeps up. A rosy blush tints his freckled cheeks, soon covering them as he buries his head in his hands. 

“You never told me that,” you chuckle endearingly, butterflies pounding at your chest as heat rises to your cheeks, “did you know that I have feelings for you?”

“Noooo,” his voice is playful, head sinker deeper into his hands as small giggles leave his lips.

It a split-second reaction your hands are taking hold of his wrists, gently moving them from his face to look at his eyes. They’re narrowed into squints, his face squished into a smiling mess as his ears are red with embarrassment. 

“So were you just not gonna tell me?” You say in a joking tone, doing your best to ease Felix’s nerves. 

“I didn’t want to lose you.”

The mood of the room suddenly shifts. Felix’s smile is quick to fade, his cheeks settling back to normal as his eyes slightly widen. Your heart twists with his words – the thought of losing him to something so silly hits you like a million bricks. Sucking in a deep breath, he reaches for your hand, noticing the change of your expression and giving a sympathetic smile. Your eyes follow the trace of his tumb over your hand, stroking the skin lightly as you sit in silence. 

You wonder if that thought has weighed heavy on his mind for a while, how long he’s had feelings for you. It must have hurt him feeling like this was nothing more than sex to you; if only he knew.

“You wouldn’t.”

Felix’s eyes light up at your words, his hand gripping yours a little firmer now. The butterflies you first felt are still there, flapping away in your stomach each time the corners of his lips curl up into a smile. Just when you thought you couldn’t fall any harder there he is, cheeks blushing as his head turns to face you. A swift hand is brought to your neck, holding it as he effortlessly moves in towards you. 

Your heart pounds in your chest as he moves closer, focusing your eyes on each of his features; catching his tongue swipe across his bottom lip. His face is just centimeters from yours, his eyes staring down at your lips and his hot breath fanning across the soft skin of your cheeks.

“I love you,” his deep voice whispers over your lips. You aren’t given enough time to return the words before he’s moving in closer.

Time stills in slow motion when his soft lips meet yours; the world could stop turning but all that would matter is that you are here, right now, in this moment with Felix.

‘More Than Friends (With Benefits)’ is copyright 2020 @chaangbin​​, all rights reserved. Please do not repost on any platform or translate without permission.

[ipuckwithhockey]

Earned- N. Patrick

a/n: This one gets angsty, oops. I’m on a NolPat thing right now, but when are we not? I’m honestly enjoying writing again, so I hope you guys enjoy this one!  

warnings: angst, mentions of sex/oral sex, swearing, divorced parents, drinking (i think that’s it)

------

Nolan loved his friends and family, hockey, and even on occasion Travis Konecny. This was enough for him. He had his close-knit group that he surrounded himself with and that was all he needed. It’s not that he avoided getting attached to people, he just hadn’t found anyone that he felt was worth getting attached to. He was young and focused on his career. Love would come eventually. He just didn’t realize how soon ‘eventually’ would be until he met you.

You met Nolan at a Post Malone concert. Your friend Grace had gotten tickets through her job and you couldn’t just say no to floor seats for Posty. Your seats just so happened to be right next to Nolan, Travis, and Kevin Hayes. You recognized the hockey players instantly, but your best friend just recognized that TK was hot and definitely checking her out. 

By the time Post was ending his show Grace was agreeing that the two of you would join the boys at a bar around the corner. You weren’t planning on going home with anyone that night, but Nolan Patrick was flirting with you and you were a woman of opportunity. So, you found yourself going home with a Flyers forward while your friend went home with another.

Grace was your polar opposite. She was an undying optimist, bubbly, and most notably a romantic. You on the other hand considered yourself a dedicated realist who was levelheaded and decisive. The thought of finding someone to spend the rest of your life with almost made you laugh.  You had no interest in settling for a mediocre relationship that would eventually combust or at best, just fizzled out.

The first night you went home with Nolan was supposed to be the only night you went home with Nolan, but just like the tale as old as time, it was far from a one time occurrence. Grace and TK kept seeing each other and their big personalities actually seemed to mesh well. Grace was happy and you were happy that she was happy. What you weren’t totally sure about was that their blossoming relationship meant you found yourself in the same room as Nolan more often than not. A couple of drunken nights together turned into a habit neither one of you seemed to mind.

Nolan was just as aloof as you when it came to romanticism. That was what you told yourself was the reason why you kept letting yourself fall into his bed every weekend. When he started texting you to come over out of the blue instead of your usual drunken hookups you decided it was time to lay down the law.

“Ok, so just to be clear, because I don’t want to be the reason for any broken hearts and more importantly, I don’t need any lost Flyers games weighing on me, this is just sex. Like we’re not going to be those stupid kids that say it’s just sex but then end up falling madly in love. I don’t do that, and from what I’ve gathered, you don’t do that either. So, if this is going to happen again, or keep happening, then it’s strictly business.”  You’re barely even looking at Nolan as you explain your position. He had quite aggressively ripped your clothes from your body when you arrived at his place tonight and you can’t seem to locate your second sock as you scour his room.

Nolan was still laying naked on his bed, catching his breath, as he watched you in your adopted routine of rushing out of his apartment. He had met girls who were okay with a quick hookup with a famous NHL player, but you were different. You were bold and definitive. You weren’t here because he’s famous, you were here because the sex was good, and that’s why Nolan was here too.

Nolan didn’t make a habit out of hooking up with the same girls more than a couple of times, max. If you hadn’t been so good in bed and so open to just having sex, he probably wouldn’t have entertained the idea at all. You couldn’t deny that having Nolan between your legs a few times a week wasn’t a good thing. In fact, it was a great thing.  Nolan might not spend much time talking, but he definitely knows how to use his mouth. You both left each other at the end of the night tired and satisfied, and that didn’t seem like a bad thing. 

“Mkay. I promise I won’t fall in love with you. My track record is pretty good, so if you need references, I can probably get you their numbers. They probably wouldn’t be thrilled about you calling to ask them about how I’m a heartless asshole, but you can give it a swing.” You can’t help but laugh as your brain deciphers the mumbles that just came from the half sleeping body in front of you.

The second or third time you hung out with the boys you were at a party. You were teasing Nolan about all the girls who were trying so hard to get his attention, and he replied that they probably wouldn’t try so hard if they knew how their short lived fling would end.  He had a bad habit of accidentally leading girls on, thinking they were on the same wavelength but then being met with a pissed off girl who thought “they had something special.”

“Perfect. And if you somehow end up falling for my stunning good looks and amazing personality, just do me a favor and let me know so I can run for the hills.” And with that you gave him a wink and were out the door. Nolan couldn’t hold in the laugh that fell from his lips as he continued to take in the personality you had begun to share with him.

—————

It’s been two months since the two of you settled your business deal and things were good. Grace and TK had made it official and she insisted on bringing you with her to team gatherings and games. You and Nolan went over to each other’s places when the other called or texted, and the sex was still as good as it was the first time.

The two of you developed a friendship and your post sex talks began to last a little longer on topics that were just a little deeper than the time before. Nolan would ask you about the douche that likes to hit on you at work and you would ask him how hockey was going.  Then he told you about his sisters and and eventually told you a little more about his migraines. When it felt right you would ask him questions that he always provided thoughtful answers to. Nolan Patrick was much more pensive than you initially thought. To be honest you hadn’t really given his personality much thought at all, but as you got to know him you realized his aloof exterior was maybe just misinterpreted.

To his surprise Nolan genuinely liked spending time with you. Unlike most people, you weren’t constantly urging him to be “more social” or outgoing, and even though you were using each other’s bodies for sex, you weren’t greedy. You didn’t ask too much of him or expect certain things because of who he was. He felt like he could breathe around you because he wasn’t constantly trying to satisfy any unattainable expectations.

Even when he talked to you about hockey, he felt like he was just talking about any old 9-5 job; zero pressure to perform for you. You would ask him how it was going even though you already watched the games, and you would let Nolan guide the conversation to where he was comfortable. In many ways Nolan did the same for you. He didn’t press about why you didn’t have a boyfriend or why you didn’t want one. He did query over why you gracefully steered the conversation away from your family. He didn’t pry into things that were too personal, that for some reason, so many people thought they were entitled to.

There was a level of respect present between you that neither of you had experienced with anyone else. In both of your past relationships people always wanted to go fast, immediately trying to see if you were compatible. You and Nolan were just friends having sex with no other expectation, and somehow that allowed the two of you to slowly peel back each other’s layers.

You were oblivious to all of this until one night when your post sex talk didn’t come after sex. It came before. Well, actually the conversation came but neither of you did that night. You were at Nolan’s after a game that hadn’t gone as well as they had hoped. He was tired and you could see it in his eyes. Instead of jumping each other’s bones as soon as he greeted you at the door, you cracked a bottle of wine and settled on the couch.

It was nice. It was two friends having conversation over a bottle of wine. You didn’t talk about hockey or work; it was just talking about nothing. You talked about the lady who gave you one of her extra coupons at the grocery the other day. He explained how he made a sweater once in home ec. ( You’re still not sure if you believe him.)

A couple of hours later, and halfway into your second bottle of wine, Nolan’s curiosity got the best of him.

“So, is there a reason you’re so anti relationship or are you just a serial heart breaker like me?”

Once he asked the question, he realized that he probably shouldn’t have. You hadn’t talked about it before and that probably meant you didn’t want to. You were surprised but his smug joke still made you laugh. Normally you would be a little annoyed by the question, but you felt like you knew Nolan. You knew he wasn’t just trying to get to the juicy part, he just genuinely wanted to know, so you told him.

“Well, if you must know, I am most definitely a serial heart breaker, but that’s just a result of why I’m not thrilled about relationships, not the actual why.”

You take a breath before going on, “My parent’s marriage was horrible. They fought constantly and I don’t think I ever saw them genuinely happy together. They insisted on staying together. Their families, my grandparents, were both pretty ‘well-to-do’ and I’m pretty sure my parents were just staying together to save face with them and their circle of rich friends. I’m not sure why, because none of their marriages seemed any different. They’re all divorced now, and remarried to even shittier people. But before that, it became more of a game than anything else. — it started getting bad when I was in middle school.”

You look out the window in front of you. Through it, you can see the city of Philadelphia. A city you came to for college, with the hopes of leaving your old life behind. 

“My mom started to go out to the country club and wherever else, and then she’d come home in the middle of the night, drunk, after doing god knows what or god knows who. My dad would go on business trips just to get away, and I’m pretty sure he was cheating on my mom too at that point. I never really saw them, and when I did they were always fighting. We didn’t have fun holidays and if my brother wasn’t there no one was in the stands cheering me on at my soccer games. Hell, by that point I preferred no holidays and no parents at my games. They didn’t care about me or my brother, and once Caleb went off to college I was on my own. I don’t blame him, I got out as fast as I could too. All we had was each other and we were always close. He’s in New York now, and we still talk pretty regularly, but being at home alone sucked, and being home alone with them sucked even more. I wasn’t always so pessimistic; I’ve dated a handful of guys but obviously they never worked out. Then I met a guy in college, and I thought wow this guy is unbelievable. He was perfect— Josh was his name. He was in grad school and he was smart and funny and said all the right things. I was young and naive, and I think I just wanted someone to love me, so I let him. And I let him take advantage of my time and energy. I let him lie to me and I let him cheat on me. And when I finally woke up from whatever trance I was in I realized that I had been looking at the world through rose colored glasses. I promised myself that I was never going to let myself do that again. I wasn’t going to rely on anyone but myself… I wasn’t going to give all of myself to someone just to wait for it to fall apart… The proof was in the pudding, relationships just don’t work, and that is why I’m so anti-relationship.”

You hadn’t looked Nolan in the eyes since you started in on your monologue, afraid that you may have just scared off your friend. Nolan was still taking it all in, reveling over the years of your life you had just laid out for him.

He had grown up in a loving family where his parents did everything they could to give him and his sisters the perfect childhood. They spent every weekend driving around Canada for hockey tournaments. He still talks to his sisters almost every day even though they’re thousands of miles away. His mom insists on carry out whatever holiday traditions she can even with Nolan in Philly. And here you were with a childhood that couldn’t have been more different than his. He didn’t want a relationship because he couldn’t find anyone he felt was worthy of his time and energy, but here you were, closed off to the world because you thought that unconditional love wasn’t real.

He didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything he could say, so instead he pulled you from your side of the couch to his, where he wrapped you up in his warm arms. You sat like that for a long time, not saying anything, not even moving, just letting him hold you. You didn’t even realize you had started crying until you felt Nolan’s hands wipe away the tears that were staining your face, and that small gently gesture was what made you snap. That’s when it boiled over, when it became too much too fast.

“I’m sorry... God. I shouldn’t have even said anything. And now I’m crying like a fucking idiot. It’s probably just the wine. It’s late, I should get going. Just forget I said anything, ok?”

And just like that you had grabbed your coat, faceted your shoes, and were out the door of his apartment. Nolan’s brain couldn’t keep up with yours and by the time he heard his door slam shut it was too late to tell you that everything was okay.

—————

Nolan tried calling you after that night, but he couldn’t get a hold of you. You couldn’t talk to him. You knew you couldn’t look him in the eyes, because for a couple of seconds you got too comfortable, you let go and let him in. It was a mistake, and Nolan would surely know that too. You had both decided this was just a transaction of sex, nothing more. You were the one who took it past that. You could have just brushed off the question that Nolan was surely regretting now.

Nolan was regretting asking that question, but not because he didn’t want to know. He regretted it because you were gone now, and he didn’t know how to get you back. You had both promised not to fall in love, not to affect each other’s lives, but that’s exactly what happened. Nolan was in love with you.

Kevin had to spell it out for Nolan as he sat on his couch explaining what had happened. Nolan knew he cared about you, but he hadn’t deciphered what that feeling in the pit of his stomach was when he saw you. He couldn’t explain why he had to constantly rub the back of his neck in nervousness when he caught you staring from across the room. He didn’t know what any of it meant.  

“Dude. I’m dumb. Like I’m big-Boston-hockey-dude dumb, but you’re an idiot. You’re in love with her man.”

“What? We’re friends, I’m just worried about her.”

“Well, she’s in love with you too.”

“It’s just sex.”

“If you were just friends, and if it was just sex, you guys would be fucking right now, and you wouldn’t be mopping here on Saturday night because she told you about her life and won’t talk to you now. She wouldn’t have told you that shit, and she wouldn’t be ignoring you now if she didn’t have feelings for you. You said it yourself, she doesn’t let people in, but she let you in.”

She let me in. That’s all Nolan could think. Maybe Kevin had a point. Maybe he did love her. Maybe you somehow loved him too. Nolan couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it. A couple days later he was getting more comfortable with all the reasons he loved you, but he still couldn’t figure out why you would love him.

He loved you because you were unwavering, absolute, and even a bit brazen. Over time Nolan had found that underneath that outside shell there was so much more. There was a girl who if you were patient and gentle, she might just let you in a little bit at a time. She unveiled her scars and her wounds, and Nolan was going to do anything he could to help them heal. He didn’t know that the feelings you were denying were nearly identical to the ones he was having right now. 

It’s been two weeks since you spoke to Nolan. You had also been ignoring Grace and Travis’ attempts to figure out what the hell was going on. You were telling yourself it was fine, and that everything would blow over. What you didn’t expect to see was a large body sitting in front of your apartment door when you got home from work.

“What are you doing here?” You didn’t meet his eyes as his towering frame rose from the floor. You kept your eyes fixed on your purse as you fished out the keys to your door, and as you stuck them into the door you weren’t sure if you should slam the door behind you or turn to listen to what he had to say.

“I know that you think I’m gonna be like every other guy, and I’m gonna use you or hurt you, and maybe I will, but if you let me try, I’ll try my hardest to never let that happen because it would break me to break you. I don’t need you to give me every piece of yourself right now, I don’t want it right now— “

You scoffed. For an apology or a speech or whatever it was you were listening to, it didn’t seem to be going too well.

“-I don’t want it right now, because I know I don’t deserve it. It has to be earned. Trust is earned and I just want you to give me the chance to earn it. I know what it’s like to feel like you can’t share yourself with people because you think they’ll be disappointed or throw it away because it’s not what they wanted. But that’s not what this is. I’m a huge idiot and I didn’t realize this until recently, but I trust you. I totally and completely trust you. I can’t say that about many people, but I can say that about you. You’ve earned it. I’ve let you into parts of my life and you’ve welcomed them. You brought me closer, and for the first time in a long time I didn’t want to run away. I’m not going to say it, because I know you need time, I know that if we do this, we have to take it slow, but I think you know how I feel about you because you feel the same way about me. Or at least I really really hope you do, because I’m totally falling for you amazing personality and stunning good looks.”

Nolan is practically out of breath after the word vomit that has escaped his mouth. You’re taking it all in. You’re taking him in, and you can’t help but let a smile creep onto your face.  Nolan somehow put everything you didn’t know you needed into words and you still didn’t know what to say, so you didn’t say anything.  Instead, you pulled him close to you and wrapped your short arms around his torso as you felt his own engulf your body. You both melted into each other and for the first time in weeks felt like you could breathe.

Neither of you were sure what was going to happen next, and how this would unfold, but you were willing to give him a chance. You were willing to let him show you what this could be, what you could be together, because you had both earned it. 

[scandeniall]

story of us

pairing: suna x reader

the story of ur relationship <3; alternatively (more) dating sunarin headcanons but this time is somewhat of an order and talks good and bad 2K+ worth lol

a/n: i had more planned but half of these have been sitting in my notes for months and its kinda fucking long already bc he lives rent free!!!

warnings: uh the usual aged up (in ur 20s time skip type beat), language, yeah

Meeting

Now when y’all met suna was not looking to love at all. That man was just living his life and so where you. The two of you pretty much meet through komori. You’re a friend and it’s his birthday so him and a few of his friends go out for drinks bc why not. Young hot pretty financially stable v-ball players. Nah no ones there for any type of hookups literally just there celebrating a great guy.

They rent out a section at a relatively nice bar tbh. Not the cheapest and you can actually hear conversation. But also not a super expensive one where the patrons are middle aged with jazz music and the occasional track to relive “youth.” Komori’s a sweetie and will come outside to get you when you text that you’re there. You’ve met washio and ofc sakusa Before so you greet them casually then you turn and there’s Suna and a few others you haven’t met.

That greeting isn’t anything special I promise. Just “hey I’m so and so” and vice versa. It’s one of those meetings where you just think “he’s cute” but it’s such a fleeting thought. Y’all don’t even really talk that first night tbh. At the next practice Suna mentions offhandedly that he didn’t know komori was dating someone and komori is like: huh? Yeah sorry. I love (Y/N) and all but were just friends. Suna just shrugs not really caring to be honest until Komori just asks what did he think of you.

“Don’t really remember much man. Seemed cool though” he didn’t think he’d really see you again. Yeah you were close enough to have been at Komori’s birthday but if that was his first time ever meeting you, he figured you weren’t from around there are present very much. Yeah he was wrong.

Suddenly you were on Komori’s snap story more often, or maybe he’d just been noticing more. Too bad he couldn’t even remember your name 💀. Then it turned into you occasionally popping up where he was. He’d been told your name at least 5 times already but wouldn’t remember it the next day. Whenever he’d see you again he’d get a strained look like: “what is this mf name again” just laugh and tell him again bby.

That changed at some random house party by another mutual friend you two apparently had? You two were the only people just around the fire pit trying to catch some warmth in the chilly night. He’s probably just on his phone head bobbing his head to the muffled music from inside. And you’re just like “remember my name yet?” All jokingly. This sparks the tiniest bit of interest in him and he lets out a low chuckle and just admits “not at all.” I also feel like this is the first time he really looks at you and he’s like 🤨, wait you’re actually kinda cute.

That night y’all just kinda talk and vibe. The conversation comes easy as you two jump back and forth from talking about the music playing to sneakers which he brings up to stuff that you like. He’s actually really easy to talk to. So easy that u can forget about him not remembering your name despite meeting several times. You mention that you’d hung around komori before while they were gaming and that he seemed pretty cool. That leads him to asking “how do you know him anyways?”

“I used to date Sakusa”

Mentally he’s just like— ‘yeah I’m not getting involved in this. Time to go.’ Until you just start laughing.

“I’m kidding. He’s not really my type. We met after being paired together for a project in school.”

The two of you spend quite a bit of time just talking that night until you are joined again by some friends and it’s deadass like y’all weren’t just talking for almost an hour straight.

Getting Together

The process of getting together is like a cat and mouse game. You two start getting closer than friends and then something happens and you’re not talking for weeks. Whether it be life just getting busy, and then someone ending up on some random tinder date or so be it. Definitely one of those things were somehow someway y’all end up just hanging on one of your couches watching a movie. At some point there’s definitely a hint of sexual tension but neither of y’all act on it (later on you find on his finsta that he used to post several “i wont you 😔” memes  Folks can’t tell if hes joking or not (hes not))

You probably gotta tell that man you like him so if that ain’t you I’m sorry. Y’all not dating 😹. It’s something casual, y’all going to pick up some snacks for a movie night and why this mf keep looking at you out the side of his eyes instead of the road. You def texting the groupchat asking if you should confess. They tell you to boss up and just do it baby.

You literally end up confessing in that parking lot. Like right when he shuts the car off and starts swinging his keys on his finger and you kinda just blurt “I like you. Like like you.” He just kinda nods before his eyes widen. “Wait are you fr?” Like no you’re joking tf. It gets a lil awkward so you just go to get out the car and he’s like “I like like you too.”

I definitely don’t think either of you ever officially asked the other out it’s just at some point the understanding that you two are a couple. Like when you’re hanging out just you two hes more touchy, and then y’all start kissing and holding hands at some point. Then when you’re with friends he almost exclusively sits next to you and your friends notice the whispers in one another’s ears at the loud bar that seem just a hint too intimate for ppl who are just friends. Then y’all start arriving and leaving places together and people just at some point get the message (it’s later confirmed by you tweeting some shit like: I hate Rin why is that mf my boyfriend)

As far as anniversaries y’all draw straws to pick a day in the ballpark of the time y’all both think you became official. That’s the day you stick with even if it’s not true.

Relationship Flaws

A fault in the relationship is sunas kinda poor communication when it comes to things that matter. How he feels. Arguments. Love sure as hell don’t come east with anyone but when your partner won’t let you in? Yeah that’s like hell. That’s something you struggle with. And then on your end, it’s the impatience with him not letting you in. You try to wrongfully rush it.

 There’s definitely been arguments that stem from him just being upset about something unrelated to the relationship then coming to you for comfort without actually telling you what’s wrong. He kinda just wants to lay with his head on his chest but at some point that’s not enough. Y’all are in a relationship and should be able to talk about your bad days too.

You’re not innocent in this issue either because sometimes it comes off too pushy. Yes it’s from a place of care but sometimes that silent comfort is necessary. The walls will break in due time and y’all both know that deep in the back of your minds But then there’s a part that’s like— yeah we can’t let this become the norm

“Rin, can you please talk to me”

He will have literally told you “whatever” and that he “can’t deal with this rn” several times as he just shrugs and is like yeah “I’m gonna just go home. I’ll text you later” with an awkward ass pat on your shoulder if it really ruined his mood. If he’s leaving before he gets super upset and uncomfortable just some half assed kiss in your cheek

Another thing is I feel like he could be passive aggressive and let’s be real other folks doing it causes you to do it to. Y’all probably drag eachother on your finstas where you can both see it lol

But when it comes to making up he cracks first and apologizes when he started it. Or as y’all get more comfy with communication. If it’s not anything major he’ll just hit you with a text like “I’m bored come hang”

More Relationship Things

I feel like he love/hates driving. Likes the ride not always driving though. So if you ever proposed a late night drive he’d be down (if you offer to drive). He does let y’all take his car though. He reclines the seat pretty far back. Alternates between just closing his eyes vibing w/ the music or kinda just looking at you (he the type of bf that makes u nervous no matter how long y’all been together)The way he looks at you makes you nervous cause that man is fine as hell and you can just feel his eyes on you.

He films you on Snapchat and sends the video to you like “you look hot”

If he’s not ‘resting his eyes’ he’s mumbling along to the music because he has the aux. if y’all music tastes are different he occasionally throws in something you really like bc he likes how you perk up at one of your fav songs

Moving on. Y’all dap eachother up after s3x because it’s “modern romance” (boy stfu). You two came up with a sex playlist together and it’s on both of your phones. Sometimes one of you will add a troll song that the other doesn’t know and put it in the lineup. (Stole my heart by 1D has definitely played before and you were practically in tears laughing at his reaction. That was one of those songs he was like ‘yeah alright i think we’re done).

At some point you two develop your own handshake and it’s cute. Whenever either of you have to travel without the other that’s always the last thing you do before you leave eachother. There’s vids of your friends daring y’all to do your elaborate ass handshake drunk and doesn’t matter what’s in your system, you both know it like the back of your hand.

I think he values quality time a lot so there’s so many nights where you’re both just chilling in his room just doing your own things. He could just be at his desk watching some game highlights and you’re just doing hw on his bed with your own earbuds in work all spread out and he’s content. He’s also attentive so if he calculates that you’ve been working too long he’ll just take ur earbud like “hey let’s go get something to eat.”

People definitely think he’s the lazy one in the relationship but it’s 100% not true. Like stated above, he’s very attentive and can pretty much gauge how you’re feeling in the blink of an eye. He knows when you need alone time but won’t go without reassuring you that he’s here whenever you’re ready. When you do just need him he’s there without a second thought. If you’re more touchy he’ll have your head in his lap his arm running up and down your as you tell him what’s wrong. He knows when to joke about a minor inconvenience and over the course of your relationship knows when to cut the jokes and be serious with you.

He’d never admit it but he knows your coffee order by heart (he keeps up his image my asking wtf do you get everytime. Just let him LOL). He the type to peek at what you plan on wearing and ‘accidentally’ color coordinate then pull some shit like “why are you copying me”

Y’all def shit talk together. See someone doing something completely out of pocket in public— straight to ur phones you go (pack it up shade room). To the public it just looks like you aren’t paying any attention to one another on your dates but y’all are. Just over the phone so u don’t piss off ur target 😌

Y’all are very comfy in your relationship that you just say stuff. Y’all don’t even think.

“Rin, what if i crashed us in this car rn 😹”

“Do it. Might be fun”

When you two finally move in together it’s almost like how your relationship starts. Slowly more and more spares of stuff for you end up at his. He does sorta make the move near the end of your lease and is just like “you’re here more than me anyways.” (hes nervous but swears he’s not. Bby you’re literally shaking). Him moving you in is like hell. This mf takes sooooo long to help with boxes. Picks up 1 then sits for like 15 minutes. You ask for help the first few times and he’s just like “I got you” while continuing to scroll his phone.

Sleepy Shoulder kisses in the mornings. Only form a greeting you get but it’s ok

this is like my 100th dating suna hc and im still going this is SICK. it was so hard to not drop old refs bc i still believe in them 100% yes i do!!!!

[collecting-stories]

3am Friend - c. 01 - Topper Thornton

Summary: Topper and y/n have been in a “friends with benefits” relationship since September but the line between friendship and something more are already starting to blur. 

A/N: This is basically four chapters: Fall, Winter, Spring, and Summer. Also it’s going to be a bit of a practice run at writing more smut for me lol. Also it’s smut like, right under the cut lol. 

Sophomore Year Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

What were you doing with your life...

You bit down on your bottom lip to stifle a moan as Topper’s tongue pressed against your clit, the cold tiled wall of the shower stall pressing into your back had your skin erupting in goosebumps, a contrast to the almost burning water that was hitting you. It was futile to bother concealing whatever noises Topper managed to pull out of you, the curtains of the shower stalls did little to shield their occupants from the rest of the communal bathroom, the plastic more often than not creating the perfect outline of whoever decided to use the showers. There would be no mistaking you, pressed against the wall, one leg tossed over Topper’s shoulder, his own figure silhouetted, kneeling in front of you with his hands digging into your hips.  

If anyone did find you there was a 90% chance that they weren’t just going to let you off with a ‘sorry for intruding while some guy eats you out in the shower’ but any concern you actually had about the consequences of your hookup had died the minute Topper had joined you in the shower stall. Technically he’d texted you to come over to his dorm, he lived right off the main campus, close to your building, in a still operational fraternity house. He split a room with some guy who liked to stare but never actually talk when you came around. Yours was not a relationship of anything substantial. You’d hooked up with Topper at a party and exchanged numbers and, two days later, responded to a very obvious booty call at one in the morning.  

“Holy shit!” You cursed, your voice coming out an octave higher than usual, fingers gripping Topper’s short blond hair. You could feel every muscle in your body tense as you tried to keep yourself upright, your other hand grabbing hold of the dial on the faucet in a desperate attempt to not completely fall apart as Topper sucked on your clit. He had moved one of his hands at some point, middle finger now moving rhythmically in and out of your entrance, working you through an orgasm.  

When you came down, your muscles relaxing and you pushing back against the wall to keep yourself steady, leg slipping off Topper’s shoulder, he stood up. He caged you in almost immediately, moving as close as possible in the stall and kissing you, the salty taste of cum still there on his mouth. “That pad really comes in handy,” he teased, referring to the silicone mat you’d bought two weeks earlier to scrub your feet without trying to do a yoga pose in the shower.  

You hummed, “I’ll leave that in my review on Amazon. Great for not bruising your knees.” When he kissed you again you smiled, eyes fluttering closed for a split second. This was the worst part. The part when you ran out of things to say and he would untangle himself from your arms and leave, promise to text you later.  

It was the thing that your roommate had warned you about in the beginning that you had ignored.  

“That’s like, not even friends with benefits though.” She had admonished when you told her for the first time that you had started this bizarre relationship with Topper. “I mean, you’re literally having casual sex with some rando guy that you hooked up with at a party. At a frat party. Do you even fucking know anything about him?”

“I know his name,” you had replied, rummaging through your closet to find something to wear to class, “and his phone number so I can booty call him.”

“Brilliant.” She snapped, “he could be some fucking weirdo axe murderer preying on college girls.”  

You rolled your eyes, “he’s the same age as us.” You had never been one for casual sex in your life until this point and you weren’t sure why it seemed enticing now but you wanted to branch out a little. You’d gotten your first boyfriend in ninth and you’d stuck with him until August of this, your sophomore year of college. He broke up with you, claiming the distance between your school and his was too much for him to deal with.  

It was your roommate that had dragged you to the party at the fraternity house, claiming that it would get your mood up after the guy you’d been with for the last five years decided he couldn’t do the 2 hour commute between your school and his. Three shots of tequila later and the blond you couldn’t take your eyes off of asking if you wanted to ‘go somewhere quiet’ were all the motivation you needed to put the past behind you and stop groveling over a guy who wasn’t even there.  

Still, the fact remained, even now as Topper put his hands on your hips, looking at you through the mirror and kissing the back of your head, you knew that casual sex was not your forte. Not simply because you had never done it before but because you found yourself craving those small, just after when the bubble had broken yet and there was still some lingering affection, moments as much as you craved the sex. But you had both agreed, casual. Something to take your mind off school for a few hours, a stress relief. For you it was more than that. You’d never been the most confident when it came to sex or your body, all that self-love/self-care crap was wasted on you and your gnawing insecurities. Having casual sex was like constantly challenging yourself to be your most exposed and most intimate with someone who was still relatively a stranger to you.  

“You know I think it was technically supposed to be my turn,” you mentioned, running the wide-toothed comb through your hair. You should’ve detangled in the shower except that wasn’t really top priority. What would you even say, ‘oh, would you mind not eating me out for a second so I can brush my hair’…you’d live with the awkward waves that dried in.  

“I thought we switched.” Topper shrugged, pulling his sweatpants back on. His shirt went over his head and you involuntarily pouted at the mirror, there went the view.  

“No, I said…this doesn’t technically count.” You replied, referring to the party three nights earlier and the head you’d given to avoid having actual sex on your period. You were at the tail end and you’d contemplated not going to the frat house at all but changed your mind at the last moment.  

“Hey, if you’re offering, I’m not gonna turn you down.” He joked.  

You turned to look at him, the mirror not sufficing as you stuck your tongue out playfully. “I have a test tomorrow, I have to study.”  

“Come over, you can study in my room. We’ll hang out.”  

“We are incapable of hanging out Topper.” You replied, grabbing your shower caddy and heading for the door. He walked right out after you, both of you ignoring the rather appreciative stare of one of the other girls on your floor.  

“Not true,” he’d suffered a nasty break-up in high school that he gave no more background to other than to say she had cheated on him extensively. Casual seemed to be the best he could allow himself to do though you weren’t sleeping with anyone else and, as far as you knew, neither was he.  

Your roommate looked up from her desk, rolling her eyes at the sight of Topper following you into your dorm. In the beginning of September, when this first started, it felt like you only ever disappeared at night. You saw Topper when he texted you and you might smile in the café but you never actively sought each other out. Now it was creeping toward November though, with Halloween right around the corner, and Topper felt like an accessory. He was always right there wherever you were, not that you were complaining. To anyone on the outside you looked like a couple but you both maintained the friends with benefits story.  

“Oh look who it is.” Almost two whole months of him and your roommate still greeted Topper with a disdainful glare. She was fervent in her belief that the guy you thought was damn near perfect (if only he’d actually date you) was hiding some deep-seated flaw.  

“Hey G,” Topper greeted, taking a seat on your bed as if he couldn’t tell just how annoyed your roommate was.  

-

Geena and you had been thrown together after enduring a freshman year from hell. Her roommate from the year prior had been awful, like caging yourself in with some 00’s mean girl who only found satisfaction in watching you suffer. Your own freshman roommate had been neurotic about the dorm and constantly scrutinized whether your cleaning methods were sufficient. Geena was a blessing, you got along well, hung out all the time, had become fast friends in the short time since the beginning of the semester. Topper was the only thing you didn’t agree on. She thought it was unhealthy, that it would only lead to heartbreak.  

“You can’t have casual sex with a guy for three years…people already think you’re dating. Some girl I don’t even know asked me if I could get her into a Phi Sig party next week cause my roomie is dating one of the guys.” There was a new reason almost daily with Geena, like she tore away a new page on the calendar and it offered up cons to your relationship with Topper in lieu of a word for the day.  

“I can ask for her.”  

“Oh my god, that is not the point.” She snapped.  

You sighed, “I don’t really care if people think we’re dating.”

“Why?” She asked the question so smugly you already knew where she was going with this. And you knew why it didn’t bother you that people thought you were dating, why you sometimes even fanned that flame.  

“G-“

“No, tell me why? People usually keep that shit quiet so they can hook-up with other people too. So why don’t you care?”  

“Because if people think we’re dating…they won’t try to date him.” You shrugged, practically mumbling the last part. You hated that she knew that off the bat, that she could tell that you liked him so much in such a short span of time. And you knew she had a point to all her antagonizing. You had been in too deep since two weeks into September when he told you that you looked pretty in something your ex always said made you look fat.  

-

You held the seam of your towel shut as you rummaged through the set of plastic drawers underneath your bed. Geena had done the bed on risers thing for optimal storage and you had followed along, semi grateful for the added space since both of you seemed inclined to transport your entire bedroom with you. Topper’s foot nudged your side as you got closer to him and you looked up, matching his smile when you caught him staring at you. You were sure Geena was sitting behind you rolling her eyes.  

“Guess I’ll go grab something to eat.” She announced, as if your very presence had worn her down.  

“I’m just getting changed, I think we’re heading over to Topper’s.” You replied, looking back over your shoulder at her.  

Geena scrunched her nose and stood up anyway, “still would rather not be here while you got dressed so I don’t have to pretend like I can’t see this one leering at you.” She shot Topper a look of contempt as she passed. If it was real, if he asked you out and he was really, actually, your boyfriend, Geena was positive she’d have no problems with him. He seemed like alright and he certainly made you happier and more confident than she’d seen you in the beginning of the year. But she hated the thought of you getting hurt and didn’t want to be just sitting on the sidelines watching it happen.

“I don’t leer.” He joked, turning back to you once she was out the door, “I don’t leer.”

You didn’t answer, instead grabbing your underwear out of the top drawer and pulling them on once the door was shut. The first time you had ever gotten dressed with Topper around you’d made sure that you were obscured from view, still too bashful and self-conscious of the way that you looked without clothes on. There was still that split second moment when you doubted yourself, when you thought about maneuvering your towel to hide your body from view, as if after two months Topper might suddenly look at you and decide he didn’t like the softness of your stomach or the width of your hips or any other imperfection you could find.  

You pushed through the voice though, dropping your towel and getting dressed. When you reached for the bralette your tossed on the bed beside him you realized he was looking at you. “G might have a point, maybe I should turn around.” You teased, his eyes snapping up to meet yours.  

“I’m admiring the view.” Topper replied, not at all embarrassed at being caught.  

You rolled your eyes, pulling your bralette on and adjusting your boobs until it sat right. “I don’t even know why I’m putting this on,” you mentioned, grabbing his sweatshirt to pull on over it, “I should just stop wearing underwear to your room and then I won’t ever lose it.”  

“You lose stuff? Whose wearing my hoodie right now?” He asked, grabbing the edge of the hood to pull you closer to him.  

“Your room has swallowed three of my bras...the nice ones too. Or Will like, took them.” You said.  

If there was some kind of formal set of rules that you and Topper had ever thought to draft, kissing outside of actually having sex with each other should have qualified as a major no. But nothing of the sort had ever been discussed and now, Topper leaned over, stealing a quick kiss before he got off your bed. Maybe now didn’t count as a ‘just friends’ moment though since technically you were heading back to his room, presumably to have sex. To finish what he’d started when he showed up seconds before you got a shower.  

“What would Will need your bras for?”

“To masturbate over? Who knows...all I’m saying is, I wear bras to your room, I never seem to leave with them.” You replied.  

“I promise I will find all your missing bras today, okay?” He grabbed your lanyard off the hook, keys and wallet all in one place, pulling the door open for you. “Wanna grab pizza later?”  

You chewed on your bottom lip, waiting a beat to answer him. Grabbing pizza meant, inevitably, hanging out after. Becoming friends was unavoidable, there was no way that either of you could have navigated sleeping together without some sort of relationship forming. So far it was only friendship, or at least that was all either of you were willing to let it be. Anything more than that meant an actual romantic relationship forming, something you wanted but were determined not to let yourself even entertain the idea of.  

“Fine but not from that place by Barnaby's.” You replied, pushing the door open and stepping out into the quad with him. The local bar was always teeming with college students and the last thing you wanted was someone recognizing Topper, because everyone always seemed to recognize Topper, and invite the two of you in.  

“We’ll just get it delivered.” He shrugged.  

The first time you met Topper, enough to tequila to not make you totally embarrassed as you danced with Geena in the main room of the Phi Sig frat house, you had laughed when he told you his name. It was a combination of the heels you borrowed from another girl on your floor and the alcohol that had you losing your footing, catching yourself in time not to smash your whole body into a coffee table, and landing on the couch beside Topper. He was taking a sip of beer and looked relatively startled when some almost drunk girl fell into the spot next to him.  

“Sorry!” You’d shouted over the bass as you tried to undo the straps of the heels that you were sure were also guilty of twisting your ankle.  

When he introduced himself two sentences later, “I’m Topper” you couldn’t resist a good dad-joke and smiled at him, “but I hardly know her!”

“Amazing.” He had been less amused by the joke than you were though he didn’t really seem bothered by it, at least not bothered enough to move on because he stayed on the couch for three more turns of the conversation before asking if you wanted to talk elsewhere. You were sober enough to know exactly what he meant and obliged because you were still kinda pissed at your ex and you didn’t want this year to pass the same as last year had, with nothing but school work to show as a passing of time.  

At least you’d have a good story to tell.  

Highschool you had a healthy apprehension of frat houses and the people who lived in them. You’d seen enough episodes of CSI, Law and Order, Veronica Mars, and any other crime show that existed in the early 00’s to know that frat houses were breeding grounds for terrible things. Your parents had even attempted to sway you from going to your first-choice college simply because the greeks still existed on campus. You could only imagine what they’d think now, knowing that you had spent more time in Topper’s room than you had in your own in the last month at least.  

Frat houses might’ve been sordid in your mind but so far, your reality of this one was exactly what it looked like on the surface, a bunch of guys living together with limited supervision. You still stuck to Topper whenever you were inside but you’d never had a problem with anyone in there and you rightly assumed that most of them just figured you were his girlfriend.  

“Will told me he wants that TA position next year, with Prof Berkley.” You mentioned, flopping back onto Topper’s bed and tilting your head so you could look over to the empty other side of the room that belonged to his roommate. Aside from staring at you too much and possibly stealing your bras, you still had a hunch that Topper was just messing with you and had them stashed away somewhere, Will was alright. You were both in the same area of study, pre-law, and he had told you days earlier that he was gunning for the same TA position with your advisor as you were.  

“I don’t know anything about it.” Topper replied, kicking his slides off and climbing onto his bed with you. The countdown in your head started now, hopefully soon you would be naked.  

“Yes, you do because I literally told you about it at breakfast.” You pointed out. He’d texted you that morning to get coffee with him and you ignored Geena when she told you that sex-friends don’t get coffee together. “I said I was applying for the TA spot because it’s a massive opportunity.”  

“Sounds like something I don’t have an opinion on.” He said, rolling over so that he could kiss you. “Enough chit-chat.”

“You’ve got a one-track mind Thornton.” You joked, moving your arms above your head as he pulled his sweatshirt off of you.  

“Well can I interest you in getting on that track with me?” He replied, lips brushing over your neck as he spoke. You hadn’t bothered to put on any makeup before you left your dorm, you hadn’t even bothered to dry your hair all the way. But who were you to worry about things like that when Topper was pushing your bralette up over your head.  

You jerked slightly, wriggling around on the bed when the fabric got caught half way up your arms, binding them above your head and covering your face, Topper taking advantage of the moment and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, tongue swirling around it as you arched your back into him. “Topper!” You whined.  

He hummed, pulling away from you to take the bralette the rest of the way off and tossing it off the bed, “sorry, couldn’t resist.” He said, smiling at you as if he truly couldn’t resist. The thought made butterflies erupt in your stomach.  

You didn’t let yourself have the moment though, pulling him in for a kiss the moment he had untangled you, hand on the back of his neck as you ran your tongue against his bottom lip, biting gently as you pulled away. Topper held himself up on one elbow, his other hand pushing passed your sweatpants.  

“Always right down to business,” you teased.  

“What do you want me to take you out first?” He was joking, you knew that, but the way he said almost sounded like he truly would take you out if you wanted him to. But then what would this be, if you had dinner before you hooked up.

“Some foreplay would be nice.” You kept the conversation light, the way you always did, and he laughed.  

“I thought the shower was foreplay.”  

You would’ve answered, thought of something witty to make him laugh again, but he had pushed your underwear to the side, fingers pushing passed your folds to brush your clit. He made the same satisfied hum that he always did when he realized that you were wet, like a quiet pat on the back. His middle finger circled your clit, a barely there shudder of nerves setting off in your stomach as you moaned.  

“I was supposed to,” you managed as he shifted further down the bed and you realized what he was doing.  

“We have plenty of time.” He promised, pressing a kiss to your stomach.  

Topper hadn’t seriously dated anyone since his break-up with Sarah. Kelce told him constantly that he was putting too much on that relationship, as if it was the holy grail by which to rate every other relationship that he had. And maybe he was allowing himself to be too scorned by something that lasted little more than a summer but he couldn’t help it. Topper was nothing if not a hopeless romantic and that had felt like such an idealistic time in his life until it all inevitably crashed around him.  

He tried casual hook-ups before you. A few girls from high school that he knew that made it practically impossible for the casual to still exist alongside the hook-up. College was easier but freshman year had been mostly dedicated to rushing the fraternity that his dad and grandfather and great grandfather had all rushed before him. Then he met you at a party in the beginning of sophomore year and he told himself it was casual but he knew that this was far from it.  

You weren’t anything like Sarah and maybe he had done that on purpose. Specifically slept with someone that didn’t remind him of anyone back home as some way to separate himself from that part of his life. To fully embody the frat boy, jock, life he was trying to live through. He figured it would just be a onetime thing and then maybe a sometime thing but now it was most definitely an all the time thing. Kelce told him that he should just ask you out but Topper felt like he was in too deep already.  

This was supposed to be strictly friends with benefits, if he crossed that line and you said no he would be crushed.  

“Topper,” you moaned, bringing him back to the moment. You shuddered as he pulled his fingers out of you, placing a kiss just below your belly button. When you tugged at the short blond hairs at the back of his head he shifted, letting you lead him back up so that you could kiss him.  

You had told him specifically that it was your turn, as if he really cared about taking turns at all. “That’s the whole point, isn’t it? You don’t have some fussy girlfriend bitching about giving you head.” Rafe’s colourful comments about the situation had been largely ignored but Topper knew, less crudely, he was right. The whole reason the two of you had started this was for sex of any kind and you had been the one to suggest taking turns.  

“My ex wasn’t very forthcoming with praise. He always told me I was kinda shitty at sucking dick so, maybe it’d be kinda nice to practice.” It’s been a colourful sentiment, one you had felt oddly comfortable sharing with Topper when the two of you first sat in his room discussing the arrangement.  

And while he wholeheartedly disagreed with your ex-boyfriend, Topper just liked being the one to give. He liked that moment when everything overwhelmed you enough that you let go and stopped worrying about if you looked attractive in a certain position or if your thighs were too big or if you had any unwanted rolls. That split second between overthinking and not thinking at all was powerful and Topper liked being the one who caused it. He liked the way you looked in his bed, biting your bottom lip to keep quiet so other guys in the house didn’t hear you. The way your hair tangled just from laying on your back. He could list a million things, every one more obscure, less noticeable, than the last because he felt like when you were around all he could do was pay attention.  

“Hey, quit daydreaming about Hailey Bieber-“ you teased as Topper’s movements slowed down, his lips brushing languidly against your collar like he was in some lethargic trance.  

He squeezed your side, baring his teeth to nip at your neck, scraping them across your skin and making you laugh as you turned your head towards his. That lazy smile you got was there, eyes hooded as you watched him, the moment passed and he leaned in to kiss you again. When he broke away it was only to grab a condom from the box on his dresser.  

Topper pushed your legs apart, settling between them. He slipped one hand beneath your back, guiding it into an arch to bring your chest closer to him, mouth finding one of your breasts. His tongue pressed against your nipple, swirling around it as you dug your nails in the sheets beneath you. He looked up at you, eyes hooded, as he pushed you back down against the bed. “God,” he breathed out, “you’re so fucking gorgeous.”  

You grabbed the back of Topper’s neck, pulling him into a kiss, slower than the ones before, more tender. Your other hand moved down between your bodies, finding his dick, enjoying the way he moaned against your mouth as you guided him in. Despite the orgasm he’d given you in the shower you still felt that stretch as he pushed in, kissing across your jaw and sucking a bruise into the space just behind your ear.  

You would never tell Geena but somewhere between quick hook-ups and longer nights together your ‘just casual sex’ had turned into something else, something far more meaningful though neither of you would acknowledge it.  

Instead you just held onto him, nails scratching a trail down his back as he found a rhythm, Instead, you just held onto him, nails scratching a trail down his back as he found a rhythm, hips snapping against yours. The sound of your panting breath and his grunts filled the room; you bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning when Topper’s fingers dipped passed your folds to massage your clit.  

“Oh god, Topper,” you whined, turning your face enough to press your cheek into Topper’s pillow, the faint smell of his cologne hitting your nose. You breathed in, always a fan of the subtle musk.  

“Does that feel good baby?” His lips brushed your ear as he spoke, words barely registering over the sensation of him. You opened your legs a little further, lifting your knee and hooking your leg over his back. The angle seemed to give more depth and his movements picked up speed. His fingers circled your clit faster as he continued to whisper words of encouragement to you. A quiet “come on baby, I know you’re close”.  

“Are you?”  

His comment had seemingly brought you just out of the haze enough to ask him if he was close. You knew you were, he knew you were, and you wanted him to be there too, just on that edge with you. As he pulled out you clenched around him and when he pushed back in it felt deeper than before, that all too familiar groan of satisfaction leaving his lips as you guided him back into a kiss. He didn’t answer your question, instead taking the opportunity to kiss you, tongue working it’s way into your mouth and dragging across your teeth. You found your grip on his hair, tugging hard enough that he jerked his hips in retaliation, hitting so deep you felt yourself go off that edge, his motion become erratic as he followed, smoothing your scream with another kiss, biting your bottom lip as he pulled away.  

There was always a moment of frenzy in the beginning when you first started hooking up. You would rush to grab your clothes, partially because you felt the need to leave when the act was done and partially because you didn’t want him to linger too long on your body. You were a temporary fix for a problem he didn’t feel like dealing with on his own, he wasn’t responsible for making you feel good about yourself. He wasn’t your boyfriend, he wasn’t obligated to tell you that you were beautiful or lavish any compliment onto you at all, not that your ex had ever been willing to either. You didn’t stay, for the first few weeks you trudged back across the lawn from the frat house, back to the dorms, and snuck in. But things had changed by mid October and what was once a booty call at one in the morning when he couldn’t sleep was now you going over for pizza and a study session that turned into an afternoon spent in his bed.  

“What time is Will back?” You asked, sitting up as Topper came back into the room with two water bottles. There was still that awkward moment just after sex, as if neither of you knew how to leave behind the intimacy of the act and return to normal life. Like you were both waiting for the other to admit that maybe just friends wasn’t really what you wanted at all. So he disappeared downstairs to get water and you pulled your underwear and his sweatshirt back on, leaving the bra somewhere on the floor.  

The empty other side of the room served as a poignant reminder that time alone was only ever temporary.  

“Not sure,” he shrugged, “he’s been talking about some girl on campus that he’s dating. Won’t reveal her name apparently, he’s convinced Fitz will try to fuck with them if he finds out.” His fraternity brothers were not the same as hanging out with Kelce and Rafe every day but they weren’t the worst substitutes for entertainment. Fitz was the head of the house, a senior whose greatest claim to fame was being party to a wildly controversial radio-show that amounted to nothing more than some white guys imitating Rush Limbaugh and the Douche from Parks & Rec. He said dumb shit just to piss people off and had an unappreciated proclivity for trying to ruin any relationship one of his brothers found themselves in.  

Will was always an easy target for him though he’d set his sights on you a few times, assuming like others did, that you and Topper were dating. You had never mentioned it to Topper, Fitz was gross and you were looking forward to his inevitable graduation at the end of May.  

“Fitz totally would,” you replied. Last year you existed on no one’s radar. You hadn’t so much as gotten an offer to go out on a date with someone and yet this year, all because of Topper, you were sure, it felt like everyone in his circle seemed to pay attention to you in some way. “He told me he prank called Will’s mom two weeks ago pretending to be the on campus nurse for a bit on his radio show.”  

Topper looked up from his phone and the pizza he was ordering, frown etched onto his features. “When did you talk to Fitz?”  

“His econ class is right down the hall from my 12:30 poly sci class…he always ‘walks with me across campus’ in case I get mugged apparently.” You laughed, “I think he just does it cause he knows we hang out.”  

“I didn’t know he was talking to you.”  

You shrugged, Fitz had been goading you for weeks but it wasn’t anything that felt harmful. Just some mind-numbingly dumb conversation about parties and girls and his radio show and how hot he apparently thought you were. “It’s not a big deal, if he was bothering me I probably would’ve said something.”  

“Right,” Topper still looked miffed despite having no reason to be. You weren’t interested in Fitz and, even if you were, what say did he have over it. That old familiar feeling crept in though, the one he recognised as the same one that the plagued him after Wheezie told him that Sarah had cheated on the boyfriend before him only to find out that she had cheated on him with John B. When he looked over you were pouting at him, “what?”

“Your room is so cold.” You replied, pulling the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands as if that was an indication of the frigid temperature. The old house lacked insulation in most of the rooms, Topper’s being one of them.  

He rolled his eyes, climbing back into bed with you, the momentary worry subsiding. You weren’t his girlfriend but in that moment, as he pulled the blankets around the two of you, guiding you back down to lay with him under the covers, he could have fooled even himself about the relationship. He held his arm out in front of both of you so that you could see his phone and the menu for the pizza place.  

“I’ve been really in the mood for pepperoni.” You mused, not bothering to look at the screen and opting instead to tuck your face into his bare collar. Your hand slipped down from his chest and Topper grabbed your wrist before you could make it to his briefs.  

“Pizza first,” he said, “you’re already getting sleepy.”  

“It’s cause I’m cold.” You insisted.  

He turned to place a kiss on your forehead, “pizza.” He reminded you again.  

-

Halloween weekend creeped up and, before you knew it, Phi Sig was decorated and advertising a Halloween haunted house party for everyone on campus. Geena was going home on the actual night of to trick or treat with her sister but she agreed to go to the party with you that weekend. She loved a good party and any excuse to dress up.  

When you weren’t spending time with Topper, and sometimes when you were because he had a tendency to hang out just to hang out (the friends side of the benefit), you and Geena marathoned episodes of Supernatural. And it was at  her coaxing that your Halloween costume became an homage to the show and your favorite character. A semi-loosely interpreted Dean Winchester, complete with a flannel over your black tank top and the mark of Cain crafted by Geena using her best fx makeup skills. You wore cut-off jean shorts with your hiking boots, showing off the legs that you were usually self-conscious about. Geena was Cas, sticking a little closer to the actual costume though she made a few alterations.  

“I gotta ask…” Fitz said, coming up to the two of you the moment you were in the door, as if he was the greeting committee.  

“I’m Dean Winchester.” You explained, “G’s Cas.”  

“You dressed like a guy for Halloween?” Fitz clarified. “I was hoping for something that showed a little more…” he made a motion with his hands to indicate that the little more he wanted to see were your boobs.  

“I have the obligatory sexy cat costume but that’s…” you looked passed Fitz’s shoulder, eyes landing on Topper down the hall chatting with some friends, a smile instantly lighting up your face, “that’s for his eyes only.”  

Fitz looked behind him, catching sight of his frat brother and rolling his eyes before turning back to you, “yeah well, if Thornton’s not appreciative then you know where to find me.”  

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you laughed, stepping around him. Geena had broken off already, heading for the keg that had been set up in the corner. When you started down the hall Fitz found someone else to antagonise, leaving you to vie for Topper’s attention, not that it took you much. Just walking up had him breaking his concentration to look at you, the smile automatic. “Hey,” you greeted as he hugged you, keeping his arm around your waist as he brought you into the conversation.  

“Hey, you look great.” He praised, offering you some of his beer. Topper’s costume was best described as JFK yachting in Hyannis. He looked like a preppy New England white boy and you suspected it was all clothing he already owned thrown together differently. There was always that slight air of prep to him though college and a growing collection of hoodies were slowly eating away at that.  

“Thanks, I feel a little out of place,” you joked, noting a girl down the hall that was wearing a mock up of Amanda Seyfried’s bunny costume from Mean Girls. “Though I do have a costume change saved for later.”  

“Oh yeah,” that smile was a full blown mischievous grin and you wondered for a split-second how down he would be to ditch the whole party and take you to his room. “Does it involve these clothes on my floor?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” You teased.  

You had been stressing over the purchase of a costume that could’ve been more accurately described as lingerie since it arrived at your dorm a week earlier. Did friends with benefits buy lingerie sets specifically for showing off? You weren’t sure where that one fell on the line but you were positive you were crossing into territory that was reserved for girlfriends. But even with those doubts, just the thought of Topper seeing you in something that was just for him to see you in somehow made you unable to pass up the opportunity.  

Topper groaned, pulling you closer to him so that he could press his forehead into your neck, “baby,” his voice sounded almost close to whining and you ran a hand through his hair. He nipped at your exposed collar before lifting his head again to look at you. “How long am I supposed to wait?”  

“One track mind, I’ve said it before…I’ll say it again.” You laughed, trying not to think about the way this felt so much like a relationship, pulling away from him but taking his hand, “come on, I wanna get a drink.”  

He followed you to the makeshift bar set up by the keg, refilling his beer while you ladled a generous helping of jungle juice into your cup, trying to fish as many sour patch kids as you could to add to it. You were drinking mostly to calm the nerves that were bubbling up. Geena would be gone Halloween night and the whole next day because she didn’t have classes and you were thinking of inviting Topper to stay over. Regardless of the hour or the amount of time you spent together afterward, the post-coital bliss always came to an end and one of you always left the other. Even if you got breakfast the next day there was a stretch of time that existed between the night before and the morning after where you were nothing to each other but bodies.  

“So, Geena’s going home on Halloween, I thought maybe you could come over,” you suggested. That part was a given.  

Topper looked almost confused that you were asking, “yeah, figured we’d end up hanging out anyway.” He replied.  

“Well…” you worried your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment, “I was thinking, she won’t be back til the next day…like, at night, and I thought, maybe you’d wanna stay over.”  

No. There was a voice in the back of his head, the logical one who knew that crossing the most obvious line, the one where he stayed and you woke up together, was a turning point that he wouldn’t be able to come back from. It was bad enough that he had let this become something that bordered on being a relationship to anyone looking in on it, but letting himself pretend like it was…he wasn’t sure he could come back from that when this all ended.  

“Yeah,” he said, quieting the logical side of his brain, “as long as you wear this ‘something else’ for the duration of my stay.” It might be a bad idea but who was he kidding, he was so far gone he’d accidentally referred to you as his girlfriend when he was on the phone with his mom just the day before.  

That smile returned to your face, the one that was so sly yet excitable at the same time, the perfect juxtaposition of innocence and deviousness, “Well, I was gonna wear nothing but-“  

“Nothing works for me.” Topper replied, using his free hand to hook his fingers through your front belt loop and pulling you toward him so that he could kiss you. Definitely not friends with benefits, but you’d both keep pretending until one of you cracked.  

-

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[kisshwa]

𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐩 𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 - 𝐣.𝐰𝐲

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇɢᴇʙᴏʏ!ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ ꜰɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ ɪᴍᴍᴇʀꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴇ ɪɴ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴅɪꜱᴛʀᴀᴄᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟᴠᴇꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ’ꜱ ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢꜱ

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 — ꜱᴜɢɢᴇꜱᴛɪᴠᴇ, ᴍɪɴᴏʀ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ, ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 — 1700+

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — ᴀʟᴄᴏʜᴏʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅʀᴜɢ ᴜꜱᴇ, ꜱᴜɢɢᴇꜱᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ (ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ, ᴡɪᴛʜ ɴᴏ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴠᴇ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴇꜱ)

waves of partiers continued to pile in, filling the place with even more drunken and stoned college students. it was a friday and no one had anything better to do than get wasted all night long. you found yourself hidden away in the kitchen with a few of your friends from class. the room was fairly quiet compared to the rest of the house; which whom you didn’t even know who it belonged to.

“y/n, pass me that tequila behind you, would ya?” jieun pointed in your direction, as you sat atop of the counter.

she was already super drunk but you did as she said, handing it over and watching her pour the liquid into a cup. you looked out into the living room where everyone was dancing, smiling at the fun everybody was having. you, however, only showed up for one person and had yet to see him walk through the door. it was pathetic really — sitting around, waiting for the moment he’d come strutting in and instantly have the girls pouncing on him.

you took another swig of the drink taeyang had mixed, getting ready to hop down and move to the dance floor when someone caught your eye. it was him, in all his god-like glory. the way the flashing led lights hit his skin, the way his face lit up when everyone began calling his name, the way his black hair was hanging in his eyes; everything about him was perfect. it was too bad he’d never be yours.

jieun nudged your knee, “you gonna talk to him tonight?”

“weren’t you just telling me last night that i need to stop talking to him? that he was only breaking my heart?” you arched an eyebrow at her.

she shrugged and took a sip, eyes still narrowing in on his face, “i mean, i have no room to talk. mingi and i are the same way, but if he makes you cry one more time, i’m breaking his face.”

you laughed, shoving her away jokingly. she patted your thigh and sent a wink before wandering off to another room. it took you a minute of thinking before you finally got down from the counter and headed out as well. just as you rounded the corner, you body collided harshly with another. you looked up to find the king himself with his arms up to avoid bumping you again. he stopped when he noticed it was you.

“y/n.” he smiled his stupid little smile.

“wooyoung.”

he continued walking into the kitchen, knowing you’d follow, “you didn’t tell me you’d be here tonight.”

he set his case of beer down in the fridge. ‘it’s not like it would matter anyway’ you wanted to tell him. he straightened back up and looked at you with raised eyebrows, waiting for your response. you looked him up and down with a deadpanned expression. as much as you wanted to hate him, for all he’s done, you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“i didn’t even know i’d be here until a few hours ago.” you confirmed.

he nodded, stepping closer and wrapping an arm around you. you could smell that he had already been drinking, maybe even a hint of weed if you would’ve took the opportunity to lean in closer. he peered down at you, that little grin forming again.

“guess that makes you my beer pong partner by default, huh?”

you rolled your eyes and poked his side, “oh, please. i carry your ass in every game.”

the two of you walked out into the main area but you had pulled away from his grasp before anyone could see. the last thing you needed were boys teasing you and girls acting fake to get closer to wooyoung. almost everyone knew about your guys’s past but assumed all connections stopped once you cut things off.

it was nearing midnight and the party had yet to die down. some were passed out in the back and front yard, others were struggling to stand on their own two feet. you and wooyoung were on your final round of beer pong, earning a complete winning streak together.

“y/n! jieun’s throwing up in the bathroom!” taeyang yelled from the hallway.

you didn’t think twice and left the game instantly to go help your best friend. jieun was slumped over the toilet, luckily managing to make it on time and preventing a mess. taeyang stood behind her, hands on her hips as she looked down at her passed out friend. you rubbed jieun’s back and tried to pick her up, but with no luck.

“here,” a voice came from the door. “i’ll get her. where’s your car at?”

taeyang’s eyes flashed between you and wooyoung. she waited for you to signal that it was okay before answering. wooyoung hoisted her against his side, hands holding her tightly to assure she didn’t slip. you lead the one, clearing a pathway all the way out to taeyang’s car down the street, buckling her in.

she thanked him religiously before turning to you, “do you want to leave now or do you want me to come by later to pick you up?”

wooyoung’s held fell on your waist, “i have a dd picking me up around two. she can come with me, if that’s okay?”

taeyang double-checked with you to make sure you were comfortable with it. when you nodded, she sent you a flying kiss and climbed into the drivers seat. you watched as she drove away; with wooyoung still attached to your hip. he bent down and placed his chin on top of your head, eyes still following the vehicle.

“you have pretty great friends.” he announced. “i’m glad you found decent people here.”

you turned around to face him, arms absentmindedly snaking up and around his neck. maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the emotions you kept balled up, but you wanted nothing more than to kiss him right now. his eyes were dead-set on yours, setting off butterflies in your stomach. why did he have to be so damn perfect? why did he have to mess with your head like that?

just as you began to make a move, a car came flying down the road and made a screeching stop in front of you. wooyoung pursed his lips, mentally cursing his best friend for giving a terrible impression of his driving. san, the best friend in question, just about fell out of his seat when you opened the back door. he hadn’t seen you for the last five months, after everything went down.

“long time, no see.” he beamed, discretely glancing at wooyoung for some sort of explanation.

by the time you arrived at their apartment, you were still pretty tipsy; after downing the remains of your drink before hopping in the car. wooyoung guided you to his bedroom, though you were well aware of where it was. you fell down on the mattress, not bothering to take of your shoes. woo cringed and snatched your feet in his hands, placing them in his lap as he unlaced your sneakers. you began to doze off when you felt a cold swipe across your face. your eyes fluttered open to see him delicately removing your makeup.

“you’re too nice to me.” you whispered, staring at him fondly.

he chuckled, “i’m just making sure your skincare routine doesn’t get too messed up. it’s not good to sleep in your makeup.”

it was unbelievable how in love you still were with him. everything he did made your heart skip beats just like when you were dating.

“wooyoung?” you opened your eyes again. “why do we keep doing this?”

he hummed, “what do you mean?”

this time, you sat up so he could sit beside you. his face was full of concern, afraid he might have done something wrong by bringing you home with him. he just wanted to make sure you were safe.

“we broke up months ago, but we still hookup and party together and do things that exes shouldn’t do. we still obviously care for each other, so why are we not together anymore?”

wooyoung licked his lips, fiddling his fingers out of unsureness, “i-i don’t know, y/n. we just weren’t the same as before. our lives got so busy and neither of us had time for each other. there were times i questioned if i was still in love with you.. and that shouldn’t even be a concern of mine. that’s when i knew i had to leave.”

you both agreed to go your separate ways after breaking up. yet you still found yourselves searching for each other in big crowds and keeping an eye out for anyone who was getting a little too close to the other. you tried anything and everything to forget about him: one-night stands with strangers, drinking til you blacked. nothing worked.

“i’m tired of trying to find you in someone else.” you confessed quietly. “nobody compares to the way you care for and look at me. you were my first real love. how am i supposed to move on from that?”

his eyes shook, dancing from yours back to his lap. he had never been able to put into words how he felt, but you did it perfectly for him. no amount of drunken hookups with other girls could ever amount to the warmth you radiated when making love to him. he missed you; so much, it was embarrassing.

“y/n?”

you looked at him once more, hoping your words got through to him. he leaned in dangerously closer and pushed the stray hairs out of your face. his touch sent electricity through your bones. your mouth opened slightly, almost as an invite for him to kiss you.

just before he captivated your lips on his, he whispered ever-so-softly, “i love you.”

his hands found their home on your sides, nonchalantly pressing you down further on the mattress. you placed yours in his hair to pull him closer. while still at work, he managed to pull your top over your head. his kisses cascaded down your neck, across your chest, then trailed your stomach. you watched as he made sure to give every part of your body the love it deserved.

“if you love me so much, then stay with me this time.” you were breathless by his actions.

he peered up from his position between your thighs, the faintest smile on his face, “i’m never letting either of us walk away again.”

[ohheyitsokay]

congrats you angel, you deserve all the love and praise for your writing bc holy shit you’re so talented!!! for the soulmate au celebration, i’m thinking either javi or jack (your choice bc i can’t choose) with the soulmate goose of enforcement au 💕 ik it’s a bizarre au but the potential for chaos is insane 😂 anyways ily and i hope you’re having a great day honey

...not me, having JUST reread your javi/jack fic, considering both... definitely me

Anyway, thank you, jj, you absolute gem of a human. I swear I had to turn up the fan reading this I got so flustered. I hope you have a great day too! And I hope you enjoy- I had to do a little research, and made it shorter than I wanted to, so hopefully it fills your chaos cup still!  (You'll understand, and hopefully forgive my delay when you see what's under the cut :) )

wordcount: 2.5k

warnings: strong language, lil angst with happy endings all around. mild menace meeting menace shenanigans 

Okay this is written as pt 1 Jav, pt 1 Jack, pt 2 Jav, pt 2 Jack, bonus pt 3. If you’re only in it for one of the boys, it makes reading a bit weird, but I liked the format for the whole thing. Sorry!

>>

Javier wanted to hit it with a bat. Or a car. Or anything. All that mattered is that maybe then it would leave him the fuck alone. Of all the stupid, infuriating, ridiculous guides the universe could have given him to find his other half, he was sure this was the worst. Rumor was, he couldn't even kill it if he tried.

It's not that he didn't want to find his soulmate, but he... well, he didn't want to find his soulmate.

There were all sorts of excuses to spout - work, obviously a priority, inconvenience, not wanting to give up his way of life. Not to mention following a damn goose was an impossible task, plus the fact that the stupid thing didn't even like him.

It would appear seemingly at random, honking insistently or flapping erratically, and then be gone before anyone else could bat an eye. To say that he had become increasingly irritated would have been a huge understatement.

The truth of it was that Javier was afraid. No one in the world liked to feel like they were being controlled. People liked to know what was going on, and this just didn't fit the bill. He didn't like that he didn't know you, couldn't be chosen, by you.

His life was already complicated enough - messy enough - that a soulmate would only make it worse. He had made it this long, this far without needing one, so he was fine without, thank you very much. Even to himself, his lie sounded okay.

It was hard to face, the idea that there was someone out there, a relationship that he couldn't have control over. And someone who would love him unconditionally? Terrifying.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t allowed to do nothing, because it seemed like every direction he turned there was a goose from hell wreaking havoc on his life.

They had reached an impasse - glowering at each other as it had planted itself in front of his door. Little feet pacing angrily, unreasonably long neck, all of it was just begging to be kicked. Except, for all he was a seasoned DEA agent, Javier was almost afraid the thing could go a few rounds with him. Feet shuffling uneasily, his hand twitched for his gun, even though he knew he couldn’t, wouldn’t shoot.

It was stupid to have a staring contest with a goose. And even more stupid that the goose won .

Javier turned away, spitting spanish curses in a stream that would make his mama smack him. Maybe it wasn't too late to find a hookup he could use to crash, he was thinking, and that thought was apparently the final straw. The goose reappeared in front of him.

Hissing.

More curses, a quick turn on his heel. This time, it didn't move in front of him, it left a sharp peck on his calf, before dodging his kick.

It was herding him, against his will, to you.

-

When he saw the goose, Jack thought he was delirious. The Statesman lab must've screwed something up because he'd seen that horrible, wonderful, stupid goose once before, in another life.

And he never, ever thought he'd see it again.

He did a lot of thinking, that night and the next day and the next. Strangely, he did a lot of feeling, too, noticing how light his shoulders felt, how kind the ache on his heart had become. He visited their grave, pressed his forehead to the headstone, and breathed some deep breaths.

And when he saw the goose again, he lassoed it.

It wouldn't have died even if it was powered up, but he didn't take the chance, determination and longing filling his being like blood, pumping through his heart to each and every part of him.

Miracle of miracles, it let him, with all the glare a bird could give. Knees only making small pops, Jack settled on his heels, looking at it sternly.

"Can you take me to them?"

The expression on it's tiny, smug face didn't change, but it also didn't disappear to free itself, so he waited.

And he waited. And waited. And eventually, watching it with half an eye, he grabbed a doughnut and offered it to the stupid soulmate goose god.

It considered the doughnut, pecked it as Jack yanked his fingers out of reach, and apparently accepted. After it was finished, it began to tug him along, waddling on its makeshift leash as Jack's heart leapt into his throat. He grabbed the bag of doughnuts and his hat before getting dragged along, to you.

-

At his very core, Javier was a man driven by his personal sense of justice. Being herded by an immortal goose of mischief was unfair, it made no sense that he had to find you, somehow needed more, and wasn't allowed to choose. It pecked and honked and bullied him all the way to a crowded bar, which was a perfect example. 

Just as he was thinking, trying to convince himself he would've come here on his own, it disappeared again and he sighed.

He needed a drink. And, he needed to make some of his own goddamn decisions. Defiance and determination, he told himself. Not stubbornness. There was nothing to prove, it was just defiance and determination, to take his fate into his own hands and make his own choices. And if he was going to do that, he wanted to look for someone who wasn't an informant or a one night stand. His gut was looking for someone he could pull to his side and to show the universe that the goose was right to give up on him.

You were a perfect fit. Slightly disgruntled for whatever reason, even through the crowd he could see the faint, telltale wrinkles of someone just as... determined as he was. Shoulders held the same defiance he was so proud of, and he would be lying if he wasn't physically drawn to you as well. The inconsistent lighting could make anyone look good if you wanted it enough, but you... were something else.

There was a line of pink neon reflection from the top of your ear, across your cheekbone, and just grazing the line of your upper lip as you looked thoughtfully at something he couldn't see. Javier thought he wouldn't mind tracing that path with his fingers, and then maybe his own mouth, and his feet were already carrying him to you to look for an open door. The rest of your form came into view, and Javier noticed the bass of the music was turned up a little bit more than necessary- he could feel it thumping in his bones.

Talking to you went smoother than maybe it ever had before. You seemed resigned, at first, which was a reaction that caught him off guard, and that combined with the weariness of his week, making him unusually candid. In turn, you opened up to him like a flower turning towards the sun, fun and thoughtful and refreshing. 

He liked the way you laughed when his lines came out a little awkwardly - open and appreciative, and it made his chest puff out a little. He liked the way you spoke, too. There was kindness and romance in your soul, just whispering at the edges of the words, and while he didn’t pick up on that, per se, they made him feel special, handsome, worthy, but also trusted and comfortable and safe. Neither of you noticed at first, that you had shuffled into a quiet corner of the bar, that his body had moved close, a gentle shield boxing the two of you into your own little world.

When the question came - what brought you here, anyway? - he found himself answering honestly about half being led by his guide, then wanting to make his own path. His confidence faltered at your quiet laugh. His heart ached. A glance at the clock told him it had been two hours since he'd found you, and already he wanted to... choose you. To have you choose him.

He felt stupid that he had confessed so soon, but...

Oh, you were kissing him. There were hands shooting off sparks into his soul against his chest and his jaw and you were kissing him. Javier kissed you back.

When you pulled away, his mouth chased yours, not ready to give up the contact so soon, but you stopped him, laughing again.

"I have a confession," you whispered, and he paused.

“My guide led me here, too. I thought when it gave up on me when I saw you,” your next kiss was more chaste, “I think we got tricked.” Noticing he liked the feel of you in his arms, even if he didn’t remember pulling you there, he tightened his hold.

Javier felt light, understanding your laughter, and blissfully unafraid. “No,” he said, knowing already you’d understand him. 

“I chose you.” 

- 

Jack was running out of doughnuts. It was easier, safer to have the dumb bird half hog-tied, but he still didn’t feel any closer to you, just halfway across town. He dug in his boots and sunk onto a bench, yanking the goose to a stop, too annoyed to beg for a break. 

He wasn’t giving up and running away, absolutely not, he was just... running out of options. Or, doughnuts. And breath. If this pace kept up, he wouldn’t be able to tell you all the things he had planned out in his head. 

Eyelids closing against the southern sun, he let out a long, slow sigh. His heart was still racing, and he wondered if he was really as ready as he wanted to be, to meet his next soulmate. A sturdier inhale grounded him. He was ready, he knew he was. Whoever you were, you had to have the patience of a saint - it would be alright, he just needed a breath. The ground under his boots was sturdy, the breeze over his skin cooling, and the goose was mercifully quiet. 

“That’s one strange lookin dog you have there, cowboy,” The voice was teasing, but not malicious, and he grinned, eyes still closed. 

“She’s a purebred,” he replied, and he heard a huff of laughter like the first few notes of music. Waiting for your footsteps to carry you away, he savored the moment, feeling silly as he hoped his soulmate would like to laugh as much as he did. 

There was a weight on the other side of the bench, and he wondered at it, as you said, “Want to talk about it?” His smile was softer, this time, intrigued by the moment, but not wanting to be tempted into flirting, not when his soulmate was on the horizon. 

“Nothin to tell,” he replied, feeling suddenly strange. Jack opened his eyes, looking at the rope in his hands, feeling the fibers run through his fingers. “Just a free range chicken... taking a break from tryin to chase down my second soulmate.” He winced, definitely not wanting to look at you, after the second had slipped out. 

It wasn’t judging, though, the voice that said, “You seem like you want to talk about it.”

For once in his life, Jack didn’t know what to say, slipping off his hat to run his fingers through his hair before replacing it. He heard your half-laugh again, and it felt refreshing, like sweet tea on a southern summer day. 

“Okay,” you said, and he heard amusement this time, like you had something to say, some thought you were chewing on. 

Then, there was that terrible honk of the goose, not from his feet, but from where, assumedly, you were. Snapping his gaze to the other side of his bench, he saw a sight for sore eyes, half backlit, glowing like something he never thought he’d see.

There was an indignant goose in a cage at your ankles, now making grumbling bird noises in indignant conversation with the one at the end of his lasso. 

“I thought you were never gonna look at me,” Your arm was across the back of the bench as you grinned at dynamite smile at him. 

Jack returned it, feeling bashful and eager, dropping the rope to grab your closest hand. 

“I promise I aint making that mistake again, sugar.”

-

bonus ending:

Jack was clinging to your hand, grinning like a fool as you introduced yourselves, when another movement caught his eye. There was a man, walking up behind you, a resigned look on his face. Whiskey’s hackles should have been all the way up, yanking you into his arms at the way this man was approaching you, but instead he was dumbfounded for the second time that day. 

He was backlit, too, with shoulders that carried as much weight as the man in his mirror every morning, and he could see the shape of a gun as he knelt next to his soulmate. The stranger’s eyes when they looked at you... were as adoring as he was sure his must have been, a moment before, and he was familiar with you, like you’d known each other before now. Jack wanted to swallow, but his heart felt like it was in his throat, beating like he’d gone a round with a bull at the rodeo.

“This is probably a lot,” Javier said, taking you other hand and quirking an eyebrow. The geese made some loud, obnoxious noises and he looked at them appreciatively. “I wish I had thought of that,” he gestured at the lasso, and you smiled at him. 

“This is Javier,” you said, and you let go of them both to stand up and brush yourself off. Warm hands and strong grips were exchanged, and you watched them curiously as they shook, murmuring names and titles again. They were sizing each other up, certainly, but you felt a rush of relief as you saw a familiar spark of attraction in Javi’s eyes. 

“You got any more surprises for us, then?” you looked up at the cowboy, confused, only to realize he wasn’t talking to you. The goose in your cage was free halfway down the walk, the one in the lasso hissed. The poor man had been an RV in an earthquake and come out the other side overwhelmed and happy, of all things, but there wasn’t much more he could handle. To your surprise, he grabbed a crumbled paper bag and tossed the contents to the bird, before it gave a final honk, and waddled after it’s friend. 

“I guess that’s a no,” you said, suddenly shy at the fullness in your heart. 

“That’s alright,” Jack picked up his lasso, before looking at you and Javier, his eyes happy, and glinting with something stronger. “I think this is more than enough.”

And you agreed.

<<

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179

for whiskey:

@0celestialbitch0

[hcywards]

pool — jj maybank

summary: in which y/n finds a stranger floating in her pool

words: 1.7k+

t/w: mentions of abuse, swearing, a make out session

note: y’all seem to really like jj and i cant say that i blame you,,,, so here you go

     Y/N frowned, looking out of her window with the confused nervousness of a girl who could see a stranger in their pool at nine in the morning on a Saturday — because she could, and she wasn’t sure why he was there or how he’d managed to get there.

     The blonde boy was splayed out across a floatie, one arm covering his face from sight, and Y/N figured he was either asleep or had just woken up. His clothes were soaked — he must’ve gotten fully in the pool at some point, and, despite her fear, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of him rolling off of the floatie in the middle of the night. 

     He didn’t look like he belonged on her side of the island. No, he was definitely a Pogue, and, from what little Y/N could see, an attractive one, too.

     But that was besides the point — the point was, there was a stranger in her pool when he hadn’t been the night before, and Y/N wasn’t sure if he was a murderer or not.

     She gulped as she tossed on an oversized shirt. not wanting to waste too much time getting dressed and potentially miss him as he got out. She didn’t take her eyes off of him as she backed out of her bedroom, and the second he was out of sight she was whirling, sprinting through the house with her heart hammering in her chest, thoughts clouded as she tried to get back to a place where she could see him again.

     By the time she made it out of the house, he was awake, back facing her as he tried to jump out of the deep end of the pool. Y/N watched with fear clogging up her throat, but she eventually managed to get out: “Hey! What the hell are you doing?”

     He jumped, falling back into the pool and spluttering as he whirled to face her. Now, Y/N knew for sure that he was attractive, and, under his wide-eyed stare, she couldn’t help but blush.

     “Fuck!” he exclaimed, knowing he’d been caught, and he turned away from her again, jumping up and out of the pool and starting to run through Y/N’s yard. Y/N rolled her eyes and began charging after him, and when he stumbled over a football, she managed to catch him, pinning him down to the floor and pulling her phone out from where she’d tucked it inside her bra. He winced as she moved around above him, and she frowned, but didn’t say anything, just stopped moving.

     She probably should’ve called the cops sooner, she thought, and she cursed herself internally as she tapped in the three digits.

     “Wait!” the blonde boy she had trapped beneath her blurted out, and she looked down at him with an arched eyebrow, thumb hovering over the green button threateningly. “Please, don’t call the cops. I’m sorry.”

     “Why would I not call the cops?” Y/N almost snorted. “Please, enlighten me.”      He gave her a smirk, and she rolled her eyes, turning back to her phone, and he whined beneath her, before blushing at the realisation of how that’d look to anyone who might’ve been watching.

     He’d have to leave that bit out when he told the Pogues about this later, if he didn’t want to be teased about it for the rest of his life.

     “Okay, sorry!” he pleaded. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t call the cops.”

     “Look, you’re going to have to give me a valid reason,” Y/N stated, and he sighed, nodding.

     “Yeah, yeah, I know, me being hot won’t cut it,” he bantered, and she hit him lightly in the ribs, causing pain to flare up across his side, spreading like a wildfire. He let out a yell, and then quickly clamped a hand down over his mouth. Fuck. The girl above him arched her brow even higher, giving him a silent question, and he sighed. How was he going to answer that believably? “Uh. . . I fell down the stairs?”

     Y/N sat up a little higher on her knees, so that no part of her body was touching his, and frowned. “Dude, I can tell that you’re lying. Tell me what happened.”

     “Why should I? You’re going to call the cops anyway,” JJ responded, but when Y/N just frowned a little more, he sighed. “Okay, I. . . got into a fight with Rafe.”

     “Bullshit, the Camerons are on vacation,” she shot back.

     JJ groaned, cursing himself for suddenly forgetting how to lie. “Right, they are.” He ran a hand over his face, trying to think of anything else to tell her. “If I told you it was actually Topper I got into a fight with, would you believe me?”

     Maybe it was the fact that she was straddling him that was impairing his ability to talk his way out of this. He liked to think that that was the case, though, really, he knew that it was because he’d been crushing on her since the day he first caught a glimpse of her at the Boneyard party a few years ago, laughing and talking with Sarah. Kie had been with them, too, as it’d been on her Kook year. JJ had only looked over to give his friend a grin, but having seen Y/N, he’d immediately forgotten what he was doing.

     They’d never had a proper conversation, of course. Every time he was mowing the L/N’s lawn, Y/N was out, and every time he was delivering food to the house, she was upstairs, and every Boneyard party, it was a boy getting drinks from JJ to bring to her. He wasn’t surprised she didn’t recognise him, if he were honest, but that didn’t upset him any less. After all, it kind of hurt to discover that he was nothing but a Pogue to her, when she was the girl he imagined every Touron was, and thought about when he went to sleep, and then again when he woke up.

     And of course it had to be her yard he decided to spend the night in.

     “No, JJ,” she responded, snapping him out of his thoughts. “I wouldn’t believe you.”

     “Great,” JJ muttered to himself, and let out a long, drawn out breath despite the stabbing at his side when he did so. “Okay.” It couldn’t hurt to tell her, right? After all, she didn’t know who he was. How could she tell anyone about it? And it wasn’t as if the cops didn’t already have their suspicions. “It was my dad. That’s why I’m here, actually — to get away from him.”

     Y/N sighed, putting her phone down and looking at him closely, wanting to make sure this wasn’t a lie. “That’s a hell of a story, pool boy. I guess I won’t call the cops.”

     Neither of them moved for a moment after that, seeming to forget where they were and what they were doing. Y/N couldn’t even feel the water seeping into her shorts, and JJ forgot that she was basically pinning him to the floor, her hands pressing down onto his. However, when he remembered this, all breath seemed to be taken from him, and suddenly he felt his cheeks heat up as he realised their close proximity — and it seemed to be getting smaller, though he was unsure which one of them was leaning in. Perhaps it was both, but suddenly her lips were on his, and his eyes were shut as her hands moved to his hair. 

     He forgot about his dad, forgot about the pain in his ribs and forgot about anything other than Y/N as his tongue slipped between her lips and his hands moved to pull her onto his lap properly.

     This was the exact same as all of his hookups, though it felt nothing like it. It felt right, like he was only ever meant to kiss her, and it felt passionate rather than lust driven, calming and overwhelming all at once. He couldn’t think of anything but her when he kissed her, and he didn’t want to, because, for once, he didn’t have to imagine his lips on hers. And sure, it could’ve been just teenagers being stupid, but it felt like a lot more than that.

     She gave his hair a light tug to pull away for air, and he smirked at her. Something inaudible slipped past his lips as he pressed a kiss to her neck, and she cursed quietly, grip on his hair tightening as she let out a gasp. He grinned against her skin at the reaction, never wanting this moment to end. He had to pull away again, though, looking up at her staring down at him with swollen lips and a pout.

     Holy fuck, he could get used to this.

     “Sorry to ruin the party, but I don’t usually have sex in someone’s backyard,” he joked — in reality, he just didn’t want to take his shirt off and reveal his bruises and scars to her. It wasn’t exactly a turn-on, to say the least.

     She nodded, laughing as she stood up and took his hand to pull him up. “I don’t have sex with boys who I don’t know the name of, anyways, stranger.”

     JJ laughed at that. “It’s JJ, and I know yours. Y/N.”

     Y/N nodded, not even questioning how he knew her name as she lead him into her house. “You need some new clothes, JJ, and I could make breakfast, if you’d like.”

     JJ grinned, suddenly aware of how hungry he was. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate. And Kook food? Who was he to turn down such an offer?

     “God, I really like you,” he suddenly blurted out, and then his eyes widened as she turned to him with a narrowed-eyed gaze.

     She laughed, though, and he nervously laughed with her. “That’s a hell of a declaration coming from someone I’ve just met, but thanks for the gratitude. And it’s nice to know I’m that good of a kisser.”

     JJ smiled, a genuine, happy smile, and he felt like a Kook with all of their forgotten troubles. It felt odd to him that, even though he’d only just met her, Y/N was making him feel as lightheaded and carefree as she was, but it felt great, and he didn’t want it to ever stop.

     Needless to say, JJ managed to get her number and a few more kisses that day — as well as a plan to meet up the next day, and an offer to stay at hers overnight.

taglist! there is a form in my description if you would like to be added!

@thorsangel @dpaccione @ceruleanjj @thatsonobx @spilledtee @supremestarkey @babypogue @sadcupofcoffee @sacredto @poguemacking @outrbank @ilovejjmaybank @calumbroutledge

[lesdemonium]

romtober day 7: misunderstandings

Rating: M Ship: Geraskier Word Count: 4319 Summary: Cirilla's new nanny, Mister Julian, is her favorite person in the whole world. Geralt's new boyfriend, Jaskier, is pretty high up there as well. No one realizes they might be the same person.

AKA: the nanny/parent au written by a nanny

a MASSIVE thank you for betaing to @boppinrobin. y’all have them to thank for how romantic this wound up being.

read on ao3

“Mister Julian says that the things we learn in school are very important but it’s also important to learn things outside of school. Like about rainbows. Did you know that any time light… ref… refracts it can make a rainbow? Like through windows or… or… Daddy, do you know what refracts means?”

Geralt hummed a little as he and Ciri walked. He thought that answer was enough, until his five year old pulled impatiently at his hand and Geralt looked down to see her frowning at him.

“I do,” he said, nodding a little. “Do you know? Do you want to tell me?”

“I do!” Ciri insisted proudly. She let go of Geralt’s hand now that they were inside their building and she ran to the elevator to make sure she could press the button first. When the button lit up, she gave Geralt a devilish smile and he pretended to be disappointed that he couldn’t hit the button first, much to her delight. “It’s okay, Daddy. Maybe next time. I’m just too fast.”

“You are,” Geralt agreed. He nudged her into the now-open elevator. “Didn’t you want to tell me what refract means?”

“Yes! Mister Julian told me all about it! It’s when something makes light change directions! Like… like water! Or windows!” Ciri was literally bouncing in her excitement to share her knowledge and Geralt found himself grinning down at her, just before leading them both to the door to their condo.

“It sounds like you’re learning a lot of really cool things from Mister Julian,” Geralt said. He unlocked the door and ushered her inside.

“Mister Julian is the best. He’s the smartest guy in the whole wide world!”

Ciri attempted to drop her things--backpack, coat, art project and all--onto the floor, only to be stopped by a chiding look from Geralt. She huffed dramatically and picked it all back up and put her belongings back where they went. Geralt offered a quick “Thank you, Ciri,” but she had already moved on to go play in her room until dinner.

Dinner, of course, was filled with chatter about nothing but Mister Julian, but Geralt couldn’t bring himself to be bothered. It was nice that she enjoyed her new nanny at Yennefer’s. By the end of the meal, Geralt was pretty sure he wanted to meet Mister Julian.

--

Geralt thought it had to be a new level of pathetic to be stood up by your own brother, and yet here he was. He wouldn’t have necessarily chosen this bar for himself, but now that he was here, he figured he might as well order a drink, even if Lambert was a dick who didn’t bother to show up. Only a quick “something came up” text and some shitty joke about maybe Geralt could find someone to pull the stick out of his ass for him. Prick.

Geralt was halfway into his drink when someone sat beside him. He didn't bother to look--he was pretty sure the stranger was just trying to order a drink--until he felt the other’s shoulder knock against his.

“I’d love to give you a pickup line, but I get the feeling that wouldn’t go very far with you,” blue eyes said.

Turned out, the rest of him was just as beautiful as his eyes. Given the line the man had already paid him, Geralt felt no shame in letting his gaze drag over his company’s body, and Geralt had to admit he liked what he saw. The curve of his lips screamed mischief, and the cut of his shirt betrayed a deceptively muscular chest. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be a total bust.

“Perceptive,” Geralt answered, taking a long drink of his beer. His eyebrow raised as he met Jaskier’s eye again, and Jaskier straightened up as he settled into the stool beside Geralt.

“I’m Jaskier,” the man said, and motioned at the bartender. He ordered quickly, then turned his attention wholly back to Geralt. “So, does this statuesque masculinity come with a name, or do you prefer to brood your way to recognition?”

“Geralt,” he answered with a smirk. Geralt was pretty sure he had never been made fun of so quickly into what he was almost certain would become a hookup. He quite liked it.

“Geralt, the man of few words,” Jaskier grinned. He received his drink, and held it up, looking pointedly at Geralt’s beer until Geralt clinked the glass together in a wordless cheers. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The pleasure, it turned out, was all Geralt’s. If Jaskier was bothered by carrying the conversation, he certainly didn’t show it. He seemed to even have a knack for pulling information out of Geralt efficiently, between stories. Geralt didn’t learn too much about Jaskier’s personal life--he didn’t think he would--but it only took a few minutes into their conversation for him to realize that he might like to.

From the moment he laid hands on Jaskier--in the privacy of Geralt’s own condo, as neither one of them was particularly keen on giving any unassuming strangers even a tame show--he felt indisputable chemistry. They didn’t have to discuss much to understand that they were on the same page about, well, everything. Even how they both liked to kiss, or the way they liked to be touched. It wasn’t magic, it wasn’t perfect, and Geralt definitely had his hands shoved away from somewhere Jaskier apparently did not enjoy being touched, but it was about as close to electrifying as Geralt had ever gotten with a new partner.

“Jesus,” Jaskier panted as his head hit the pillow.

Geralt snorted into Jaskier’s sweat-sheened shoulder, but he had to agree.

When Geralt woke to find Jaskier still in his bed, starfishing and completely unbothered by another body, Geralt was surprised. Pleasantly surprised, but still surprised. He sat up slowly and made his way to the bathroom, and by the time he came back, Jaskier was sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I swear I normally don't do sleepovers without at least discussing it first,” Jaskier said, smiling sheepishly at Geralt. “Apparently you wore me out.”

“Apparently I did,” Geralt answered, shrugging. “It’s fine. Do you want breakfast? I can make eggs.”

Jaskier watched him for a moment, with a cautious smile, then nodded. “Breakfast sounds incredible.”

Nearly an hour later, they both were fed, dressed (though Jaskier scrunched up his nose at rewearing last night’s wrinkled outfit), and Jaskier leaned forward into the kitchen table, staring at Geralt.

“Would it be bold of me to request a repeat performance?” Jaskier asked. “Maybe even a meal that isn’t immediately following an accidental sleepover?”

Geralt hesitated a moment. He wanted to, more than anything, but.

“I have to let you know,” Geralt started, “so you can make a fully informed decision. I have a daughter. A five-year-old.”

Jaskier grinned, then bent down, disappearing beneath the table. Geralt watched, his head tilting as he puzzled out this bizarre reaction, and then Jaskier sat back up, a pink stuffed bunny in his hand.

“You mean to tell me this isn’t yours?” Jaskier asked, his voice affronted, though he was still grinning and even managed to wink at Geralt.

“His name is Mr. Bun and he’s part of the family,” Geralt said, with a smile in return.

Jaskier left that morning with the clothes he had worn the night previously, a full belly, and Geralt’s number entered into his phone and a promise that, yes, they could try for dinner next time. Geralt found himself feeling almost as if he needed to thank Lambert for being a prick. He wouldn’t, though.

--

“You’re looking cheerier than usual,” Yennefer said as Geralt stepped back to let her inside.

“Ciri, your mom’s here!” Geralt called. “Do you have your bag ready?”

There was a bang from behind Ciri’s door, one that Geralt absolutely did not want to ask about, before she called back, “Yes! I just forgot something!” Geralt was pretty sure she was lying and that he should say something about that, but it didn’t seem like a battle worth waging when packing her bag was already going to take her time.

“Going to explain, or should I start guessing?” Yennefer asked, smirking at him. “Hm… there was a sale on ugly combat boots and you picked up a few dozen more?” 

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Surely you could do better than that. Don’t tell me you’ve lost your touch,” he teased. 

“Haven’t lost my touch, simply want you to get to the point. What has you looking so pleased?” She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow, and even if Geralt wanted to deflect, he knew from the set of her shoulders Yennefer wasn’t going to just let it go. There was no need for him to, though.

“I have a date tonight.” 

“You do? Well, tell me about them? What’s so great about this date that made you pawn off your daughter a night early?”

“You asked to have Ciri early. She’ll think you’re serious if she overhears you,” Geralt frowned. Yennefer waved an insistent hand back. “His name is Jaskier.”

“Mommy!” Ciri called, bounding out of her room and running straight into Yennefer’s arms. Yennefer spun her around once before setting her feet back on the ground, and Ciri grinned up at her. “Is Mister Julian coming to see me this week?”

“Of course he is,” Yennefer answered, nodding at her. “He’ll pick you up from school on Monday.”

“Good.” Ciri’s voice contained every ounce of seriousness in the world, and Geralt had to bite back his laugh. Ciri did not like thinking that Geralt was laughing at her. Not that he blamed her. “I have something very important to tell him.”

“And what’s that?”

“Hippos make pink slime instead of using sunscreen!”

Yennefer’s nose scrunched up and she glanced at Geralt, who shrugged.

“We spent this weekend looking up facts to tell Mister Julian. She picked that one,” Geralt answered.

“That is fascinating and adequately disgusting. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.” Yennefer took Ciri’s hand and her bag, which she slung over her shoulder. “Say bye to your dad, Ciri. We need to run.” She pointed a finger on her free hand at Geralt. “I expect to hear all about your weekend when you come pick her up.”

--

It wasn’t until their fifth date that Geralt took Jaskier home again.

Coming back for a hookup was one thing; usually people Geralt brought home left as soon as they caught their breath and never came back. Going on an actual date with someone, though, was different. Bringing someone he was actively dating into the home Geralt shared with his daughter was a whole other level that had to be handled extremely carefully. And slowly.

Luckily, Jaskier understood.

“It’s been so long, I almost forgot where you lived,” Jaskier said, grinning as Geralt opened the door for him. “I’m flattered I’m being invited back. I must be doing something right.”

Geralt snorted, then backed up to let Jaskier back into the condo. Jaskier followed after him, only to crowd Geralt against the door and bring him in for a kiss. Geralt’s arms wound around Jaskier’s middle, turning them both so he could close the door behind them, lest they give Geralt’s neighbors an unintended show. 

“A lot of things right,” Geralt answered once they pulled away, and he lived for the way Jaskier beamed at him.

“Did you know,” Jaskier said conversationally, over the dinner Geralt had cooked for them, “that your daughter and my charge are the same age?”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at Jaskier and finished his bite. Jaskier didn’t often volunteer information about his charge. Geralt hadn’t pressed, of course, after Jaskier mentioned his job as a nanny on their first official date, and then followed up with “For confidentiality reasons, I can’t tell you much about her, but she is just the best.”

“I thought you didn’t talk about your charge with people you were dating,” Geralt answered. He put down his fork, as he was finished with his meal, and rested his hand on Jaskier’s leg.

“I don’t, but I would consider it, a bit, with a boyfriend,” Jaskier answered, and his hand hovered above Geralt’s, just barely avoiding contact. Though his tone was as even and nonchalant as possible, and he shrugged his shoulders, Jaskier wouldn’t look at Geralt; he was nervous. “And, well. I figured it might give you permission to talk about your daughter. And know that you’re not going to scare me off if you do.”

“Hmm,” Geralt said. He captured Jaskier’s still-hovering hand and entwined their fingers. Geralt waited until Jaskier met his eye again, then smiled. “I suppose telling my boyfriend about my daughter makes sense.”

--

“I’m just wondering what sort of name Jaskier is, anyway,” Yennefer said.

Geralt rolled his eyes and gave her an exasperated look, but Yen only grinned wickedly back. 

“It’s a stage name, and a nickname,” Geralt answered, shrugging.

“A nickname for what?”

“I don’t know. He hasn’t told me and I haven’t asked.”

“You’ve been dating this guy for, what, three months now, and you don’t even know his name?” Yennefer sounded incredulous.

“I know his name. It’s Jaskier. “ Geralt smirked, and Yennefer looked likely to hit him.

She hadn’t given Geralt even the tiniest bit of rest about it all since Geralt had admitted that he and Jaskier were serious over a month ago, but Geralt found himself less and less bothered by it. She had made it clear that she simply wanted to meet him, and that was her goal with all this teasing, but Geralt wasn’t ready. Yennefer meeting Jaskier likely meant Ciri meeting Jaskier, and though he knew he was serious, he felt they needed quite a bit more stability before his five-year-old was brought into the picture. Jaskier seemed to agree, if his lack of pressing about it was anything to go off of.

“Do you even know his last name?” Yennefer asked.

“I do. But I’m not telling you. You don’t need to internet stalk him.”

“Oh, but I so love being nosey.”

Geralt snorted, then turned to the bright patter of Ciri’s feet running to him and jumping in his arms. He caught her, and lifted her up in a bear hug. “Ready to go?” he asked. Ciri nodded enthusiastically.

“Did you ask Mister Julian if he’s free Friday?” Geralt asked, turning back to Yen and holding out his hand for Ciri’s bag, which Yennefer passed to him.

“Sorry, he said he was busy,” Yennefer answered with a sympathetic grimace.

“Someday I’ll meet Ciri’s favorite person in the whole world,” Geralt said. He slung the bag over his arm and put Ciri down, instead taking her hand. “That’s fine. How’s a night at Grandpa’s then?”

Ciri’s eyes grew comically large. “Yes! Last time we had unicorn pancakes! For dinner!” she said.

Geralt very much did not want to know what unicorn pancakes were, or just how much of a sugarbomb they contained. Instead of asking, he waved at Yen and took Ciri back home.

--

Geralt could feel himself drifting. He shouldn’t let himself, he knew, but it was hard not to when he was wrapped up in his warm bed, still shaking off sleep, and Jaskier was lightly tracing patterns on Geralt’s bare chest. There were things he had to do, like clean up after their date night, and go pick Ciri up from Vesemir’s, but Geralt figured there wasn’t much harm in letting himself have this moment. He hummed, to let Jaskier know he was awake. Hopefully he’d not let Geralt drift off again.

“Morning,” Jaskier said. His voice wasn’t a whisper, but it was a near thing.

“Since when do you wake up before me?” Geralt asked. With great effort, he opened an eye to look at Jaskier, who was smiling down at Geralt, his head propped up with his elbow.

“I wouldn’t get used to it,” Jaskier answered. He continued trailing his fingers along Geralt’s chest. “I’m sure next time you’ll have to chase me out when I inevitably oversleep and your daughter’s on her way home.”

Geralt hummed and caught Jaskier’s hand, then pressed his lips to Jaskier’s fingers. Though the light streaming in from the window was entirely too bright, Geralt found he didn’t mind. Jaskier was haloed in the soft light.

“Maybe sometime you can meet her,” Geralt said.

Jaskier grinned and leaned in to press a kiss to Geralt’s collarbone. “I’d love to. When you’re both ready,” he said. He lifted his head again, then paused, before pressing a slow, sweet kiss to Geralt’s lips.

“Hmm, yeah, it’s official,” Jaskier said as he pulled back.

Geralt furrowed his eyebrows as he reached out to card his fingers through Jaskier’s hair. “What’s official?”

“That I love you,” Jaskier said.

He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he hadn’t just thrown Geralt completely for a loop and left him boneless. Jaskier sounded so sure, so honest, and he was beaming down at Geralt.

“Is that so?” Geralt finally answered, his mouth dry.

Jaskier’s face did not dampen, not even a little, as he nodded. “It is. I know because I still felt that way when I kissed you, morning breath and all.”

Geralt snorted and pushed himself up to sit. He still held Jaskier’s hand, and he pressed a kiss to his palm--to spare him from any further morning breath--then let go and stood up. Jaskier sat up, too, and was looking at Geralt with such a look of adoration, that Geralt felt himself flushing under the attention as he made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

The escape helped clear his head. After his teeth were brushed, he left the bathroom to find Jaskier getting dressed, pulling a new outfit from the drawer Geralt had cleared out for him. They smiled at each other, then switched, Jaskier brushing his teeth and Geralt getting dressed. 

It was so easy, that Geralt found himself a bit floored. It had been slow, and Geralt hadn’t truly noticed, but in the warm shock of Jaskier’s confession, he noticed there were little reminders of Jaskier everywhere: the clothes in the drawer, Jaskier’s toothbrush in Geralt’s bathroom. The pictures from the photobooth of the two of them sitting on Geralt’s nightstand. 

Geralt returned to the bathroom and leaned against the doorway. Geralt watched, silently, as Jaskier finished brushing his teeth, then grinned at Geralt.

“Don’t tell me you’re kicking me out already. I woke up early for you! I thought we could go to brunch. Maybe do an early six-month anniversary thing, since I’m working on our actual anniversary.” Jaskier paused to let out a nervous laugh and card his fingers through his hair. “Monthiversary? Whatever. Six months is a big deal, okay, I promise I’ll let you off the hook for other month markers, but six months is a big deal.”

“I love you, too,” Geralt said. He reached out a hand and Jaskier allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. Jaskier’s body sagged in relief against Geralt and Geralt held him all the tighter for it. This was right. Geralt hadn’t felt this sure about anything in a long time.

--

“How would you feel about Jaskier meeting Ciri?” Geralt asked as soon as Yennefer opened the door.

Yennefer paused for a moment, blinking.

“I hate when you do that. Next time can you greet me before bombarding me with big questions?” Yennefer asked, frowning at him.

“Hi Yen,” Geralt answered, nodding a little. He supposed that was fair. “How has your week been? I wanted to chat about this before Ciri comes down. So she doesn’t get excited or think it’s happening if you say no.”

“Well, I appreciate that.” Yennefer let out an audible breath, then gestured for Geralt to come inside. “So, things are pretty serious with him, then?”

“Yes. We’ve been together nine months.”

Yennefer put her hands on her hips and regarded Geralt for a moment. “You’ve been seeing this guy almost a year, and you’re just now considering having him meet Ciri? Jesus, Geralt. I guess we’re all lucky you didn’t wait until a marriage proposal before any of us got to know him.”

“I can’t consider marrying anyone that Ciri hasn’t signed off on,” Geralt answered, shrugging.

“You are the most ridiculous man I’ve ever met. Yes, absolutely, have this guy that’s been in your life for almost an entire year meet Ciri, I give you permission.” Yen’s eyes rolled as she crossed her arms. “I get to meet him after. Before Lambert and Eskel.”

“Agreed,” Geralt said. He thought about sticking out his hand to shake Yennefer’s and seal the deal, but he figured now wasn’t the time to incur Yennefer’s wrath.

--

Geralt was nervous. In fact, nervous didn’t even begin to describe Geralt at this precise moment. Geralt had a feeling Jaskier was probably just as nervous, if not moreso, judging by how quiet he had been all day on the phone. No social media posts, only a couple clarifying questions about the plan for tonight to Geralt, and otherwise completely silent. It helped, if Geralt was being honest. That meant Jaskier knew how big of a deal this was, just as much as Geralt did. If Ciri didn’t like Jaskier--well. Geralt just had to trust that was impossible.

When he heard the knock, Geralt startled. He opened the door to find Jaskier standing there, looking sheepish and gorgeous.

“Ciri? Jaskier’s here,” Geralt said. He reached out a hand for Jaskier, who gladly took it and stepped inside.

Geralt was still turned toward the door, closing it, as Ciri’s steps turned from walking to an all out sprint toward them.

“Mister Julian!” she yelled as she jumped into his--thankfully, just barely ready--arms. Jaskier looked bewildered, and like he was still processing the girl now in his arms. Ciri pulled back and pressed her palms to Jaskier’s cheeks. “I didn’t know you were coming to my dad’s! You didn’t say you were coming over!”

“I...I didn’t know,” Jaskier answered. He bent to put her back on the ground, just a bit too fast to be intentional, but Ciri was delighted by the move. Jaskier then wrung his hands together, but Geralt could still see that they were shaking.

“Julian? You’re Mister Julian?” Geralt asked. He couldn’t process this. He felt dizzy and thrown and suddenly very uncertain of what he should do with his hands.

“Julian’s my first name,” Jaskier answered. Geralt could see the blush creeping along Jaskier’s face. “Since it’s on my driver’s license and easier to say, that’s the name I use. You’re Cirilla’s dad?”

“Dad,” Ciri whined, and when Geralt looked to her she had the most disapproving frown Geralt had ever seen on her face. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re friends with Mister Julian? You said we don’t keep secrets!”

“You’re right,” Geralt agreed. He hesitated a moment, then ran his fingers through her hair. “I didn’t know I was keeping a secret, it was an accident. I call Mister Julian ‘Jaskier.’”

Ciri turned her now very suspicious frown on Jaskier. “Were you keeping a secret? You didn’t tell me you’re my dad’s boyfriend.”

Jaskier laughed and shook his head helplessly. “Trust me, sweetheart. I had no idea. Apparently your dad and I are too good at keeping you safe.”

Ciri seemed to accept that answer, because she shrugged, then ran off to the kitchen as if nothing had happened. Jaskier, however, wheeled on Geralt the moment she turned her back.

“You were married to Yennefer?” Jaskier asked.

“Yes,” Geralt answered. Jaskier let out an incredulous bark of laughter and Geralt placed a hand on the small of his back--trying to steady them both. “We divorced just after we adopted Ciri. How did you not connect her name?”

“I thought maybe you were both inspired by Apple products! Who was I to judge?” Jaskier threw his hands up. A moment later, one landed heavily on Geralt’s shoulder. Geralt could still just barely feel that hand tremble.  “And I don’t call her Ciri! She wanted me to call her Cirilla. I never connected--” He laughed again, shaky and disbelieving. “Oh my god, this does not help nanny stereotypes.”

“At least we know she already likes you?” Geralt offered.

Jaskier gasped, his free hand covering his mouth. He glanced at the kitchen, and by the time he looked back at Geralt, his entire face had crinkled into a broad smile. Jaskier took Geralt’s hand between both of his own and pressed Geralt’s knuckles to his lips, and now Geralt could feel Jaskier’s grin.

“She does,” Jaskier said, sounding as wet as his eyes were. “She does like me!”

Relief washed over Geralt as he really considered what this meant. The hardest part and biggest potential barrier to the future of their relationship had already been crossed before it was even a question. Geralt was not looking forward to how much Yen was going to laugh at him, but he wasn’t worried about their future anymore. Ciri loved Jaskier as much as Geralt did. Everything would be okay.

Geralt pulled his hand from Jaskier’s hold to cup Jaskier’s face and bring him in for a kiss. Somehow, they had managed to do this right. Somehow, they were being rewarded.

“Are we having dinner, or what, lazy boneses?” Ciri called from the kitchen.

Jaskier pulled away to laugh, and Geralt had to capture the mischievous smile Jaskier gave him in another kiss. This time, when Jaskier pulled away, his eyes were soft and his hand was warm as he pulled Geralt to the kitchen.

“Coming, lazy bones?” Jaskier asked, as if Geralt wouldn’t follow him anywhere.

[please-buckme]

pt 2 of the metal arm where he fucks the reader!

The Metal Arm. (Part 2) Anakin x reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Anakin has a huge dick, vaginal sex, this bitch is hurtin

1809words

It’d been months since you last saw Anakin. Once you’d returned back to the Temple it was almost as if nothing had happened. You both went to the council, told them of your heroic duties and that was it. There was no after-meeting hookup or stolen glances, nothing.

You did hear that Anakin had gone on quite the lengthy mission with Obi-Wan but other than that you had no idea where Anakin had been, for all you knew The Chosen One was dead. You knew he wasn’t dead though, the whole galaxy would hear of Anakin’s death. Thinking about what a big deal he is made you sick. Even after you’d played with him a bit you still hated his guts. If it weren’t for that beautifully crafted hand of his you never would have let him touch you like that.

No one knew of your deed either. It surprised you how proud of the situation Anakin was. That he’d gotten you off just with his fingers. The only way to swear him to secrecy was to tell him you’d return the favor if he kept his mouth shut.

“You mean you’ll actually let me fuck you?” He asked.

“If that’s what you want.” You replied.

Anakin smirked at you, leaning in to whisper, “If you thought my fingers were good just wait. I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll forget your name.” He stood still smirking down at you before exiting the ship. In all honesty you’d forgotten your name just by his words alone.

You had to admit you’d been a little anxious as to when the name-forgetting sex was going to arise. Much time had passed and you’d forgotten all about it.. until.

“The mission went very well. Both me and my troops made it back in one piece and I'd say we handled things in a permissional manner. We almost weren’t ready to come home.” You joked trying to level with the men of the council.

“That’s wonderful to hear. We are all so proud of your growth as a Jedi and a leader.” Master Kenobi smiled at you, making you smile as well. “And Anakin?” He asked, a puzzled look spreading across your face.

“Um, wh- what about Anakin?” You asked. Shit. had they found out about what you’d done together so long ago?

“You haven’t spoken with Anakin?” Master Plo Koon wondered.

“Should I have?” Your heart was racing.

“We told me to reach you hours ago. That boy he never learns.” Master Kenobi says, frustrated as usual. “Well when you do see him it’ll be on a mission in the next few days, alright?”

“Great.” Is all your voice would allow.

“All right I believe we’re done here. Once again great job and good luck on your next mission, you’re going to need it.” Obi-Wan winks at you before exiting and going the opposite way of you.

The good news, you weren’t in trouble and they hadn’t found out about Anakin totally wrecking you, the bad news, Anakin was back and looking for you. It took you no time to realize where he would be.. waiting for your arrival.

-

‘I know you’re here Anakin.” You shout, your voice echoing but to you, “The council said you were looking for me.” You sigh before continuing, “Well here I hhh-” Anakin came up from behind you, covering your mouth. He scarred, having panic run through your body until you’d realized it was indeed Anakin.

Anakin here’s you straining in his hand and he lets it drop from your mouth, “What the fuck, Anakin? You almost gave me a heart attack.” When he came up behind you he wrapped you up close to him. You tried your best to escape from his grasp. His grip became tighter around your waist, making you grunt in pain. He used his now free hand to pull your hair back, exposing the skin of your neck. Wasting no time you fit his teeth on your neck.

“Anakin, what are you doing?” Still squirming to be set free.

“Taking what is now.” He says between gritted teeth.

You laugh, “And, uh, what might that be, Skywalker?” The squirming stilled as you leaned into him, now embracing his warm touch.

“You know.” He says making his way to your earlobe before sucking on it, making you gasp.

You clear your throat, trying to sound less unsubdued, “Hmm, I don’t think I do, Gonna have to refresh my memory.”

Anakin smirks against your neck, “I can do that. Don’t move.” He releases you from his grasp to remove his glove. Of course you take off. If he were going to fuck you it’d be on a bed, so that’s where you led him. “Get back here.” He growls.

“Come with me, Skywalker.” You spun around still walking, backwards now. You extend your finger out in a ‘come here’ motion. The look on Anakin’s face would have frightened you in any other setting but for this particular instance.. It excited you.

When you finally reach the bed you sit patiently waiting for Anakin to catch up. Once he gets there he pushes you back forcefully, admitting a gasp to fall from your mouth.

“Oh Gods,” he says while ridding you of your pants and underwear, “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted you these past months.” When he finally tugs off the remaining material under your legs he spread then, wide. Anakin dipped his head between your thighs inhaling your scent as you watched. “Did you miss my fingers, (Y/N)?”

A sigh leaves your lips as his cold digit circles your clit, “Gods yes.” Anakin lets out a raspy groan before lowering two fingers into your dripping core. An involuntary moan escapes past your lips as he pumped them slowly, letting you adjust to their thickness.

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you everyday since we last met. The thought of you cumming all over my fingers never leaves my mind.” Anakin’s voice was smooth with lust, adding another finger, “Fuck my fingers look so good in your pretty pussy.”

“A- Anakin, oh gods.” The feeling of your walls closing in around three of his fingers hurt, “Anakin that hurts.. please.”

He brought his flesh hand up to pat you on the head. “Shh it’s okay. You did such a good job last time.” He lowers his hand to your mouth as he inserts two fingers, the sucking distracting you from the depleting pain between your thighs. “ besides, you’ll be thanking me for stretching you out. My cock is way bigger than three fingers.” You gasp. Would you be able to take Anakin the way he wanted. It scarred you but at the same time it made you mentally drool.

“Then stretch my fucking hole, Anakin.” He gave you a devilish grin before pumping his fingers hard and fast inside you. Your back arched off the bed as the pain turned to pleasure.

“My cock is gonna feel so good in that tight pussy.” Anakin returns his face to your core, attaching his lips to your clit, fingers still pounding inside you.

“Oh shit,” you yelp. “Anakin I’m gonna fucking cum, I’m gonna fucking cum, oh my god.” You Anakin nod against your clit as you come undone around his fingers once again. You’re high leaves you breathless and seeing stars. “Oh my god” you whisper in the midst of your high. “K- kiss me.” You say needing to feel some sort of connection to him.

Anakin removes his lips from your pulsing clit to join your lips in a hungry kiss. You moan against his lips now tasting yourself on his breath.

Anakin pulls his hand from your core and you can hear him remove his pants and them hit the floor.

Being the curious and cautious person you are, you reached down to feel just how big Anakin actually was. When you grab what you thought to be his leg you were shocked to find that wasn’t the case. “Oh fuck, Anakin. You really want that thing inside me?” You joke.

He smirks down at you, “more than anything, (Y/N).” You pump him slowly as he sheds his pants completely. He brings his hips closer to your wet pussy, the head now poking at your entrance. “Are you ready?” He asks hesitantly.

“Fuck me, Anakin.” You say pulling him back down into a kiss.

“Yes, Ma’lady” He says on your lips. His cock slowly pushes into you, making your breath hitch in his throat. He groans a raspy groan when he bottoms out inside you, “You feel so fucking.. good. Let me know when to move so I can fuck the shit out of you.”

To Anakin this felt amazing but for you.. it was a whole nother story. He stretched every inch of your delicate pussy. Tears started brimming your eyes as you sobbed slightly. “Does it hurt, baby.”

“Y- yes but I like it.” You say huffing out a breath, “move slow, that might help.” He did as you asked, removing himself completely at an excruciating slow pace before diving right back in. It hurt a little less every time and after a few more pumps you were ready. You wanted to be nice and fucked though.

You wrapped your legs around Anakin tight and filled him over, him now laying under you. “Okay Anakin, fuck me.” The smirk on your face quickly guys away as he props you up on his legs as fucked up into you. “Oh Gods,” You couldn’t help the vulgar screams leaving your mouth as he filled you up complete with each thrust.

“You feel so good, (Y/N)! I’m gonna cum soon.” Anakin informed you. Without words you brought his finger, a metal one, to your mouth sucking on it before lowering it to your clit. Anakin immediately took over drawing skillful circles over your clit.

Everything felt so good that you couldn’t help the tears that tan down your face. The feeling of ecstasy hit you before your high did, “You are so beautiful, (Y/N).” Anakin says from below you. “Let me see you cum again, babe. I want to feel you cum.” A few more involuntary yelps leave your lips as you finally climax around his thick cock. “Yes!” Anakin shouts as you tighten even more around him, spiking his own climax.

He rode out his high inside of you, neither of you moving from the position until your body had had enough. “Oh god.” You say laying down beside him.

“I know.” He says kissing your forehead, then turns you over, now spooning you which you didn’t mind given the moment you just shared. “Oh yeah we have a mission together.”

“Thanks for letting me know.” You say before drifting off to sleep.

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