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onlyswan · 2 years ago

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summary: in which jungkook is giving up on you but you have so much love left to give.

> idol!jungkook x f!reader / angst, fluff, suggestive / wc: 8.3k

> warnings: mention of infidelity (no one did u can breathe ily), mention of a classmate slipping their number in oc’s pocket and oc feeling unsafe, mention of puking, mentions & allusion to s/x, alcohol consumption, making out, boob!e fondle, gr*nding kinda? jungkook is hard™️ they’re so in love it’s sickening

> in which masterlist!

playlist! and if/or when - ruel / hate everything - jungkook cover (gsoul) / hits different - taylor swift / statue - lil’ eddie / i wouldn’t ask you - clairo (i had to get in the zone & this is so oc-coded i need u to listen i’m so srs)

next: in which you don’t want to give up jungkook (even when he gave you reasons to, even if they give you reasons to).

note: this was a journey. happened back in june 2019.!! i’m ripping off the bandaid <3 deep sigh writing this made me realize how my babies have come so far. hopefully will follow up with a fluffy fluff lowkey inspired by the underwear live soonest lols i’m excited for it 2 stay tuned 🫂 reblogs & feedback are much appreciated <3

—

you forgot the walls of the apartment building you’re living in are thin. a small portion of the white paint has been chipped off, it looks like a birth mark, you note — except it’s not, and you’re the one who caused the irregularity.

your favorite glass is scattered across the kitchen floor, reduced to shards and to sparkling pieces almost as miniscule as dust. you don’t know what came over you. you don’t know why you threw it at the wall instead of filling it with cold water to only drink three sips like you usually do.

just when you thought you’ve been faring well in holding yourself together today, a fresh wave of sorrow overwhelms you. your knees buckle as you begin weeping, the loudest you’ve been since this nightmare has started. it swallows the knocking sounds at your door, but it’s still not loud enough to quell jungkook’s quivering voice playing like a broken record on loop inside your head.

“we should end this… i think it’s for the best, before we get drained.”

the rain is coming down fiercely and you’re freezing inside his car, parked outside your apartment. after all, his balenciaga windbreaker can only do so much against the blasted airconditioner. your throat is painfully dry, and your hands and face are numb from the piercing cold. but those are the least of your concerns because you feel like your head had just been dunked in ice water. the sting in your eyes are burning warmer as the seconds fly by and the muffled sounds of the torrential raindrops drum frantically in your ears. they’re clouding the car windows, mirroring jungkook’s tear-stained cheeks.

“i’m leaving again in three weeks. and i’m leaving again next year… and i’ll be gone again soon after that for a long time. i-i don’t know when i’m coming home, ___.” he pauses. the heel of palms press against his eyes, as if that could possibly barricade the saltwater leaking from them. “i never know where my life is taking me and you have your own… there’s too much-too much going on. i think that i’m just wasting your time, that this isn’t- it’s not going anywhere.”

“open the door! hello?! ___!”

“what do you want?!” you seeth in annoyance, swinging the door open to reveal your pesky neighbor.

he scratches the top of his head awkwardly at the sight of the mess that you greeted him with, having not bothered to pretend that you weren’t wailing your heart out.

”hey, i know you’re going through something…” his lips remain parted as he struggles to find the correct word, his right eye twitching voluntarily. “soul-crushing? right now. but i heard glass breaking and i was concerned that you, uhm, might’ve hurt yourself.”

the apparent nervousness and sincerity in his actions pull you out from the isolating disassociation you’ve imprisoned yourself in. you feel humiliated, presenting yourself in your most pitiful form infront of a kid two years younger than you. you envy him for having it together after storming out of his parents’ house while you-

“i’m not hurt. it was just an accident.”

you’re shamelessly lying infront of his face because the truth makes you feel too ashamed of yourself.

he only nods, smiling in relief. “i don’t know how to help make you feel better, so i just brought honey like i used to do before.”

you sigh, the familiar jar of honey and its red checkered lid waving at you like an old friend. has it been a year?

“bro, i told you i can’t accept this anymore.”

“you and your boyfriend already broke up. what’s the big deal?”

you have never wanted to smack someone more, the genuine confusion painted on his face feels like an infuriatingly harsh slap to yours.

“he wasn’t threatened by your honey, you dipshit. we just found out my blood sugar was getting a bit high!”

“oh- i’m so-”

you angrily slam the door shut. the silence you’re left with is suffocating, and you find yourself breaking down again.

he jumps in surprise when you open the door again, yelling- “and we’re not broken up!” before ripping away the jar of honey from his sweaty palms. he’s left completely flabbergasted, an inexplicable heaviness weighing on his chest when he hears your sniffling from the other side of the hard-wood.

“does that mean i can deliver again next week? i have too much in my kitchen…”

he doesn’t receive a snarky answer, surprisingly, so he continues talking.

“and f-y-i, your left cheek is bleeding! you might want to check on that!”

—

“you didn’t even give me any signs…”

you inhale a deep, shaky breath in a fragile attempt of keeping your composure. you want to scream, rip apart this thick tension with your bare hands, and force him to admit that this is just some kind of sick joke. you finally see him in person after months and all he has for you is a gift bag filled to the brim with heartbreak. this is too casually cruel, not something you would’ve expected from your jungkook.

“do you really mean that? or is there something else you’re not saying…? look at me.” you plead, weakly tugging at the hem of his long-sleeved shirt. the horrors of long-distance relationship stories claw their way out of your skin, adding fuel to the fire of your deepest fear. “you didn’t cheat on me, right? that can’t be it. we- we always-”

after you ended your last relationship, you cried at the parking lot of your university and continued living your life the next morning as if nothing happened at all. you did it all for yourself, anyway. he was gradually tearing down your confidence and your dignity; and you didn’t want to become a person the future you would despise for not being wiser, stronger.

and here you are at present day: spending the cozy sunday night solving chemistry problems on your desk. you have a blue bandaid plastered on your face and a cheek full of fruit and honey. and you would say you’re fine, but jungkook wasn’t here to sweetly dote on you while treating your wound. he isn’t here to taste the honey from your lips with that coquettish smirk of his. he isn’t laying on your bed, fighting to stay awake because he wants to fall asleep with you as his pillow.

no matter how hard you try to shut out this thought, it keeps knocking on the door. he’s going to be doing these sweet nothings for a different person when he finally reaches a more stable place in his life. you want to kneel on the ground, beg the heavens to meddle with destiny and never let you hear about it.

because that means he will never set foot in your apartment again, and the personal belongings you left in his room will be thrown out to erase the traces you left behind.

so this is how it begins.

the ugliest parts of you are swimming to the surface, tying themselves around your ankles because jungkook took away the ground from beneath your feet after unearthing your soul and… nothing makes sense to you anymore. if you wake up every morning to tend to your garden, and you look outside the window to learn that the sun has stopped burning, what do you have left?

your lips inevitably curve into a frown, but you inhale a sharp breath, patting your eyes dry before they can smudge the black ink on your notepad. and then you dip a strawberry in honey for the third time.

—

“no, baby, no- that’s not it.”

the dread and insecurity weaved into the cracks of your voice fill him with nausea and panic. he captures your frigid hand with haste, firmly holding it to his pounding chest.

“i would never do that to you. just the thought alone fucking disgusts me… you’re the only one. you’ve ruined me for everybody else.”

“then why are you giving up on me? am i becoming a burden?”

jungkook feels painfully numb, mind floating as the buildings outside the window get left behind him as a mere, passing blur.

“yah, jungkook-ah. are you crying?”

a torturous moment of silence passes as he struggles to find his voice. his tongue is tied, and his lost eyes are betraying the nights he spent practicing how to explain himself to you. back then, the reasoning he curated made sense. but faced with the consequences of his actions, the love of his life’s brain running a thousand miles per hour, recording a tale of woe and heartache on his passenger seat — he has never felt this much loathing for himself and his weaknesses.

you release a shaky breath, patting his rosy cheeks dry with your sleeves. you smile at him kindly, and he watches you in sheer disbelief. he can’t fathom the perpetual luck he’s been blessed with that he met, who he believes to be, the purest soul to grace this corrupted world. they’re damp with your tears, so it’s practically useless, but the sweet gesture is a stray beam of sunlight in the midst of the dull gray clouds.

the comforting rubs on his shoulder extracts him from his torturous thoughts, and only then does he feel the wetness on his face.

“you’ve been holding it back for the past week. just cry it out.”

he nods wordlessly, hiding himself in the fleece blanket from his lap. yoongi can feel a lump forming in his throat as he witnesses his youngest brother breaking down, jungkook’s pain also being his pain. as a group who’s been living together for the past decade, no one will be able to empathize with them as well each other. especially during times like this.

“___ hasn’t called?”

jungkook shakes his head wistfully, wiping away the tears that slid down his nose. he is dying to send you a text message, worried sick, and still used to hearing about your day the same way he is used to sleeping on his stomach.

“hyung,” the sound of the word borders on a sob. “it’s over. this is killing me… it’s all my fault.”

“but isn’t that what you wanted?”

“exactly. so why am i crying?” his hands ball into closed fists. “i’m an asshole.”

“enough of that!” yoongi loudly whines out his scolding. ”we all know you had your reason.”

“but, hyung, i fucked up!” he tenses up, blurting out the acknowledgement that’s been haunting him day and night. “she told me the most romantic thing and i felt so… fuck, i’m so angry at myself. i ruined everything. and i’m scared that i’d end up making things worse if i try fixing it.”

“stop beating yourself up. we can’t solve things this way.” yoongi grabs a bottle of water from the cupholder between them, twisting the cap open before handing it to jungkook. “drink first.”

once he starts drinking, he realizes that his throat has been awfully dry and sore. it’s most probably best for him to rest his voice. he can already foresee the concert rehearsal being absolute hell tomorrow. if he can’t sing, he doesn’t know how else he’s supposed to keep himself sane.

“talk to me. what did she say?”

“you’re the first person i’ve fallen in love with, do you know that?”

and with that revelation, he loses the warmth of your touch, and he comes crashing down like a wingless aircraft.

“i also need time to think about it. that’s only fair, right? that i get to decide, too…?” you swallow thickly, lips parting as if the words are resisting to come out of your mouth.

he looks at you with an emotion you can’t name, a push and pull between longing and trepidation.

if this was a movie, he would brave the rain and somehow perfectly deliver a poetically romantic speech that would sway your heart. if this was a movie, you would take a warm bath together, make out in the bathtub, and make love on your bed. if this was a movie, the day would end with the two of you tangled up, peacefully asleep and rhythmic breathing in sync. but he knows you. apparently not as well as he thought, but to some extent, he knows you. if he pulls you closer in the heat of the moment, you would feel suffocated and defensive and you would push him away; and he would lose you for good. that much he knows. so he lets you leave and he stays in the car— heartbroken, crestfallen, and regretful, because he might’ve just recklessly thrown away the best gift the universe has ever given him.

“i was thinking about how she never would’ve made this much sacrifices and efforts for anyone else and i feel like… i- it’s all going to waste because our future is uncertain. i can’t be committed to her as much as she is committed to me. and, and i felt like the guilt was eating away at me, you know? i wasn’t thinking straight.” jungkook chews on his bottom lip, a last ditch effort to prevent himself from sobbing. “it just… consumed me? like i was drowning… and all i could smell and taste was the saltwater.”

“i see,” yoongi sighs, crossing his legs and intertwining his fingers infront of his stomach as he finds the right words to say. “that’s a normal response. our brain is a very complex friend… but you know, everything i’ve been through as myself and as a part of our team, hmmm, they taught me that there are times when a problem doesn’t necessarily need a solution per se. you just keep going until the fog clears up and then you move past it.”

fuck, jungkook needs a glass of whiskey. or two. or twelve. he listens intently despite seeming like he’s spacing out.

“this won’t last forever and time slips away from us without us even noticing. you should do what you want to do. if we’re going to deprive ourselves of good things, what will we have left after everything is over? money we can’t spend in one lifetime? there’s no happiness in that.”

yoongi frowns, wishing he could do more to alleviate the weight hanging on jungkook’s shoulders.

“you deserve love outside all the noise, too. focus on the present which you can still control and deal with the future when it arrives. if you do otherwise, you’ll just be tormenting yourself… and i know it’s easier said than done but! do you want to hear something i’ve had on my mind lately?”

with a flushed face and swollen eyes, he tilts his head to curiously spy on his hyung.

“what is it?”

“your motivation to work out after our shows is so you can stay awake and spend time with her. that’s why you fall asleep everywhere else. do you know how scary and endearing it is to watch that? is that what you call ‘not being committed enough’?”

yoongi fails to hide his gummy smile, body vibrating with silent laughter as pictures of jungkook falling asleep standing up flash before his eyes.

“seriously, you punk! you scare me! i just pass out and die straight after while you- really, you’re really unbelievable. i envy you. for being able to love with everything you have until they break your heart. i mean it!”

“but i’m the one who broke their heart this time.” jungkook somberly utters in defeat, bottom lip jutting out and chin quivering.

yoongi encouragingly pats his shoulder, shaking his body lightly. ”you can make it up to her. she’ll reach out before we leave. have some more patience.”

jungkook’s eyes turn into slits, suspiciously squinting at the man sitting beside him. “why do you sound so sure?”

“because she loves you. why else?”

—

you automatically pause from eating cup ramyeon when your phone lights up on top of the journals you’ve been reviewing for the past hour.

“ah, shit! shit!”

you abruptly cover your mouth with your hand, exhausted eyes watering because you accidentally bit your tongue after reading the name of the sender of your newest text notification. you take sips of cold water, peering at your phone as you do so. your hands itch to type out a response, but the screen dies and turns black, another of yoongi’s messages in the same pile of unanswered ones from your friends checking up on you tonight. you can’t talk to anyone right now; you need to get shit done.

after eating your dinner at the convenience store, you come home to a plastic of fried chicken hanging on the doorknob of your front door.

Eat lots and stay healthy! I’m feeding Jungkook well too. Don’t worry. — Yoongi

you peel off the blue handwritten note, sticking it on the cover of one of your books. you carefully carry the food using your free hand, and you can feel it radiating on your skin, the heat of a freshly-cooked meal. you were always worried of being a bother when you occasionally ask him how jungkook is doing on tour, but this made your heart significantly lighter. gaining a good friend after losing your lover, perhaps life can show a smidge of mercy when it wants to.

too bad you’ve always been one to be greedy.

—

“ah, seriously. why did you have to break up with ___?”

“we’ve been through this a million times!” jungkook exclaims in exasperation as he fiddles with the controller, bumping his knee with taehyung’s. “focus. you’re supposed to be helping me forget.”

“i don’t remember agreeing to that.” taehyung responds with a shrug, smirking when he picks up a booster and runs past his friend’s character. “you finally found someone who could put up with you and you let them go? i won’t let you forget.”

jungkook scoffs, eyes rolling upwards. “bro, i should be the least of your problems.”

“nuh-uh.” taehyung tuts with a grin, belly aching with laughter when jungkook’s car jumps over his to steal the lead. he didn’t even know that was possible. he plans on using the same trick against him later. “i’m making you my biggest problem so i don’t have to deal with mine.”

“they’re not married yet. you still have a chance, you know?”

“yah!” he gapes at jungkook in shock, entirely forgetting about the game. “take that back!”

“don’t act like you haven’t thought of it!”

“yeah, but i don’t say it out loud. it sounds too wrong! i still have my morals left!” he cries out, stomping his feet on the floor.

jungkook lightly punches his arm, eyebrows pinched in confusion. “i meant you have a chance if they break up. i have morals too! what do you think of me?!”

“oh…” taehyung blinks. “you know who else have probably thought of that too, though?”

“who?” jungkook boredly questions as he scrolls through the game collection, contemplating about which one to play next.

“all the other people waiting in line for ___.”

the realization renders him motionless, stirring up the possessiveness coursing through his veins. for the love of god, he doesn’t want to be petty but that struck a nerve. he wants to storm out of the house and look for you, beg on his knees for you to take him back.

“aish, hyung, you’re driving me crazy! why would you tell me that? are we torturing each other?!”

“are you crying? yah, jungkook-ah.” taehyung watches his hunched figure with a guilty wince, hesitant hands rubbing the expanse of his back. “i’m sorry- i’m sorry… do you want a hug?”

jungkook stays quiet, head hanging low to hide his face crumpling with anguish. the loose but affectionate hug that he gets pulled into prompts him to fall apart, catharsis blossoming in his ribcage and turning his bones into jelly.

he hears obnoxiously loud sniffles, and he abandons taehyung’s shoulder to look at his face. “are you crying, too?”

“stop ruining the moment.” taehyung groans, forcefully pushing down his head again.

namjoon comes out from his bedroom in search for another extension cord, still sipping on the half-empty iced americano he took from the fridge only ten minutes ago. the heartfelt scene on the couch causes him to halt on his tracks. how did they go from playing games to crying together? he silently observes the two members for a moment before deciding to approach them.

“what am i going to do with the two of you?” he grunts, ruffling his hair in frustration. “shall we go out for drinks to disinfect your wounded hearts?”

the mention of alcohol makes them perk up, jungkook’s tearful doe eyes sparkling at the prospect of temporarily erasing the pain that has uncontrollably spread throughout his system. he wants to drink until he forgets that he has hands, until he forgets what it feels like to touch you.

“thanks, monie-hyung. i’ll have my appetizer.”

and the iced americano gets snatched away from namjoon’s unsuspecting hand within the blink of an eye.

—

“this is not a barbecue restaurant.” you stare blankly at the orange neon lights spelling out the name of the night club your friends secretly conspired to bring you to.

“___, loosen up! the fastest way to move on is to find someone else. this is the best place for that.” aera turns around from the passenger seat of the taxi, her red lips painting a thrilled smile. “just forget about jungkook. we all knew this shit was going to happen. i’m surprised you even lasted that long!”

“i don’t know what you’re trying to imply but i don’t appreciate your tone.” you warn her with a sharp, threatening look. “and the ‘someone else’ that i found at a bar before turned out to be biggest fucking jerk i’ve ever met. i’m not doing this again.”

“things might be different this ti-” mi-ran aids in persuading you, but it only adds fuel to the fire.

“oh my god! fuck off!” you yell in irritation, aggressively getting off the car and slamming the door shut on their faces.

you never look back, ignoring the shouts of your name and half-assed apologies. you don’t have the slightest idea about where you’re going — your feet have a mind of their own and they chose to go the opposite way of home. this isn’t how you envisioned your night. you just wanted to listen to the sound of the meat grill and complain about life giving you a taste of true love just to cut your tongue with it until you bled. was that too much to ask?

you’re about ninety percent certain that you just lost two of whom you treated to be your closest friends. you think of ah-young, and you briefly consider crashing at your best friend’s band practice, but you’re too exhausted to travel to the other end of the city.

with eleven seconds left in the timer, you cross the street with swift and long strides alongside a crowd consisting mostly of employees wearing the same navy blue uniform. at last, you’re among the bright and lively restaurants, the inviting smell of good food making your stomach sting with hunger.

it’s only taehyung who recognizes you when you unknowingly pass by, almost choking on his glass of somaek, the combination of soju and beer. with his career on the line, he is confident that he can recognize that balenciaga windbreaker anywhere and anytime. meanwhile, instead of talking about you, the youngest is drunkenly reminiscing about the alleged ghost encounters he had in their old dorms. their leader is tragically left to tend to the grill alone. he deeply regrets not dragging any of the older members with them.

“everyone, i think i just saw __-”

a grimace of cluelessness is plastered on taehyung’s face when jungkook claps once, enthusiastically pointing at him as if he just announced something inspiring and life-changing.

“you’re right, you’re right! that’s it! what i’m kind of trying to say here is…” he pauses, facial muscles relaxing into a gloomy expression. he sniffles and rubs his nose, making it a brighter shade of red. “when we move houses again, i won’t have stories like these to bring with me. the new ghosts will be my memories with ___.”

none of the other two dares to speak after that, the oddly satisfying sound of meat being grilled and the chattering from other tables occupy the uneasy and heavy silence. instead, they begin filling their own shot glasses with pure soju. namjoon is the first one to spill it down his throat, slamming it on the table before dishing out his phone from his pocket. by this time, all of them are already drunk, double vision blurry and speech a little slurred. they gave up on counting the green bottles and cans of beer a long while ago.

“shit, that was a good metaphor. i need to write that down.”

“namjoon-hyung, he’s crying again!”

jungkook’s head slumps on the table with a thud, hot tears escaping down to his temple as he laments. “i miss her so much. why did i have to break up with her the second we got home? why…? am i so impulsive? what do i do if… if she agrees that we- h-how am i supposed to live with myself after that…? i’m never going to love again.”

they shuffle apprehensively on their seats, but still, they tell jungkook what he needs to hear since he won’t remember tonight’s events, anyway.

that’s not going happen. she just needs some more time. i’m sure she’s missing you too. everything will be okay.

but it’s been almost two weeks of radio silence. their flight is in nine days, drawing nearer and nearer as if it’s purposely taunting jungkook. everyone is thinking the same thing, and everyone is afraid to say it out loud.

—

it’s 7am when his work alarm goes off. with a disgruntled noise, a hungover jungkook drowsily drags himself out of bed, eyes still closed as he swings the bedroom door open.

“oing?” he creates a noise of confusion when his arm bumps against an object. he blinks at the brown paper bag hanging on his doorknob, removing one of the handles to peek at its contents.

he buffers for a moment, staring blankly at his belongings safely tucked inside. there’s his black mini bluetooth speaker, tinted lipbalm, wired earphones, bucket hat, facial cleanser, moisturizer, and shampoo. these are everything he left on top of your study desk and in your bathroom. neatly folded on the side is his windbreaker, which he recalls as clear as daylight, how you reveled in its comfort the last time that you were together. the fabric softener you use has replaced his perfume, the cherry scent forming a rain cloud of nostalgia and longing above his head.

if this is a nightmare, he is begging for somebody, anybody, to break into the room and to bring him someplace where hope is not desolate.

his wounded heart, as his namjoon-hyung described, is experiencing an excruciating pain he never even imagined was possible. he now understands, why the broken heart syndrome is a real thing.

he can’t read you. is this your way of ‘reaching out’? have you kicked him out of your house, out of your life? for good?

the dread of losing you forever is gnawing at his insides. nausea almost succeeds in knocking him off his feet. his brain hisses with static. he panics at the disgustingly familiar sensation brewing in his digestive system, sprinting to the bathroom to spill out his guts.

they say that you don’t realize what you have until you lose it. that early morning, jungkook realizes that he’s only a human being after all.

—

“when did i put that there?”

you’re sorting out your dirty laundry after showering when you notice a tissue paper tucked in the front pocket of your denim jeans. you huff out a sigh, ripping it apart into tiny pieces over the trash bin with raging vexation. you will never understand how men thinks that these kind of stupid tricks are supposed to compel you into seeing them anywhere near attractive and desirable in your eyes. if anything, they make you feel unsafe and if your paths cross again, you will run the other way. great. another person in the lecture room to avoid. just fucking great.

at this point, you want to mockingly laugh at your own misery. just when you thought your day couldn’t possibly get worse, it fucking does.

you tuck yourself in bed by midnight, texting a friend about your joint presentation next week, and then rereading your conversation with namjoon from this morning for the nth time. you’ve been hoping it will shine light on the right path to take, because you’re still lost and hurt.

Namjoon:

he’s been devastated since

can’t this be sorted out?

stuff’s just been overwhelming and honestly i’m as anxious as him

i'm not trying to force you into getting back together with him ofc but please talk for closure atleast..

you’re also my friend. i think you need it too..

you scroll a bit further down afterwards, and your heart drops to your stomach when you see the three dots under the contact name ‘my jungkook’. you click on it as it beckons you to, only to allow time to flow like a river with no sea to kiss, idly watching the bubble appear and disappear, appear and disappear. almost everyday, you catch a glimpse of him at the very least, typing a message and never sending it.

the same goes for tonight, it seems.

his silence is torturing you. in the car, in your inbox, in your call history. a person knocks on the door and a part of you foolishly predicts that it’s jungkook not using his copy of the key out of respect.

you succumb to the yearning, heading to your shared media and files that you’ve been actively resisting for the past three weeks… for this exact reason.

you randomly click a video sent by jungkook three months ago.

“i know you’re in class but i’m too excited to show what i got you today!” he beams at the front camera, bunny teeth cutely showing. he picks up the first item from the hotel bed with his free hand. “you already own this book but this one got a different cover, see? it’s hardback? they say it’s a limited edition.”

he eyes it fleetingly, obvious that there is something else he is dying to mention.

“i won’t show it too close. you can look at it when i go home. there’s a little surprise inside.”

he scrunches his nose before teasingly sticking his tongue out.

“and then here we haaave-”

following that, he shows you an adorable fluffy white bunny with red eyes. it occupies more than half the screen, and without a doubt, it is soft and huggable.

“cooky’s new sibling! we found it at a gift shop and hobi-hyung said it looks like me.”

he presses his cheek to the bunny’s. “i accept. we do look alike, but my eyes are so much bigger.”

in the upcoming seconds, the video is muted except for his breathing. he plops down on the bed while ruffling his dark hair, staring at the camera wordlessly, evocative of when you catch him dreamily watching you study while you’re on a videocall.

“i miss you.” he smiles sadly, deep dimples appearing on his cheeks. “don’t forget to text me when you’re on your way home.”

he drops on his back, the firm mattress breaking his fall.

“mmmwah!“ he kisses the camera, and your screen freezes on the final frame.

the silence in the aftermath is defeaning. you tear your glasses off your face, burying your face in the pillows. you arrive at your final decision then and there. you don’t care. you don’t care. you don’t care anymore. you cannot bear to spend more of your days like this. his things that used to live here might be gone, but you look for him everywhere. you look for his car in the parking lot. you look for his hair when you see flowers. you wait for his name to be called in the coffee shop. on your way home, you linger at the playground where you used to usually meet.

because if your relationship with jungkook is truly doomed to fail, you want to watch its foundation collapse on the ground, burnt down to gray and black ashes that disintegrate when you try to grasp them in your hands… with good grace, it’s the only way for you to believe that there’s no more home to come home to.

with a trembling hand, you press the call button and for the very first time, you beg someone to stay.

—

jungkook’s breathing ceases, heartbeat violently racing in his chest. the ‘chimes’ ringtone tickle his ears, his phone vibrating incessantly in his hands. the two features he specifically customized in your contact settings so he will immediately recognize that it’s you who’s calling.

it’s been four days since you dropped off his things. and here he was, laying on his bed and struggling to find the right words to say because he refuses to believe that this is how it ends. the paper bag is still hanging on the doorknob. he hasn’t touched it since the first time. he doesn’t have the courage to do so.

fuck giving you space. he wants drown himself in you and never come up for air. he’s more than willing to suffer your anger or your coldness. he’s prepared to prove himself worthy of a second chance every second of every day. he wants to occupy half of your desk and half of your closet again. he selfishly wishes to be the first and the last person you fall in love with.

but until the very end, you’re the braver one.

“love?” your voice is quiet, barely audible, but it’s there, and he hears the affectionate term of endearment distinctly. “i’m sorry. i tried, i really did, but i couldn’t do it…”

“baby,” he falters breathlessly, half of him in disbelief, convinced that he has officially lost his goddamn mind and delusion is bleeding into reality.

“i tried living without you like you wanted- but i can’t-” you hiccup in between small sobs on the other line. “i love you, jungkook. i can’t live carrying around all this love with me. it’s too heavy…”

exploding and breaking apart, jungkook’s heart is a meteor that has entered the planet’s atmosphere, and he doesn’t know where to begin digging for the fragments so he can piece himself together again.

“we are too young and we don’t know what the fuck we’re doing and i love you too much. you don’t have to protect me… i’ll take my fair share of the responsibility, so just-” he hangs on your every word, and then you pause, your following words eliciting a powerful punch to his gut. “just let me love you and let me learn my lesson the hard way… let’s do that, okay?”

the walls of him room ebbs and flows in like the sea. he rests his forearm over his eyes, his skin gradually dampening with tears. he once promised himself that he would never put you in this position. he should be the one begging for forgiveness, repenting and crawling on his knees. but rather than wasting his time with surfing through another tsunami of self-blame, he reminds himself: i want to be a better man.

“okay, baby. let’s do that, hmm? let’s do that. it’s what i want too.” he coos softly with a hoarse voice. “are you at your apartment?”

you hum in confirmation, sniffling. “come home.”

—

a half-naked jungkook abruptly opens the door to yoongi’s room, wearing gray sweatpants with his left arm awkwardly inserted in one of the black t-shirt’s armhole.

“hyung! can i borrow your car? mine’s getting a check-up.”

yoongi tears his eyes away from the computer, hanging the black headphones on the nape of his neck. he merely shrugs before throwing the car key, and jungkook catches it in one hand with ease.

he sighs in relief, politely bowing his upper body to express his gratitude. “thank you, hyung.”

“what are you doing?!” yoongi half-smiles with fondness, jokingly waving him off. “just go- go. leave!”

—

jungkook nervously stands before your front door, head woozy with anticipation and fear. what if things have changed? what if your relationship never goes back to the way it was?

“oh. you’re back together?”

he whips his head back to find your neighbor arriving home from his part-time job. huh, he just realized that he has never really learned what his name is. the only information he has on him is that his sister owns a bee farm.

“how did you even know?” he asks with knitted eyebrows. “you haven’t been giving out honey again, have you?”

“she only accepted it once.” the stranger puts his arms up in surrender with a roll of his eyes. “and don’t make her cry again, will you? she blasts sad songs late at night.”

and with an unpleasantly forceful shut of the door, jungkook is left alone in the hallway. his jaw clenches as he glares at the next apartment, but he rubs his face to release his frustration before he goes to meet you.

“we need to move in together.” he grumbles to himself as he enters your unit, relocking the door behind him. he removes his sneakers, neatly setting them down beside your pairs of shoes by the doormat.

he pads on the wooden floor with his white toe socks, looking around the dark and quiet living room. a faint orange light is seeping under the gap between the floor and the bedroom door, which he recognizes to be your favorite mode on your multi-colored nightstand lamp. he cautiously cracks the door open, and he is instantly greeted by your curled up figure, peacefully sleeping.

it’s muscle memory when he hangs his backpack on the backrest of your study chair before anything else. he also brought the paper bag you sent, putting it down on the floor.

he squats down infront of you, lightly prying away the phone you’re hugging to your chest and placing the device on the bedside table. the light is shining over your skin, and there are a thousand of photos and videos organized into the most treasured folder in his gallery, but not a single one of them will ever do you justice.

god, he missed you so much. it hasn’t been two years, but the life he had before he met you feels like an extremely distant memory.

he sighs, talking in hopes that he appears in your dreams. “how do you do this? you make it impossible not to love you.”

he unconsciously frowns at the sight of your puffy eyes. never again. never again. never again. he chants inside his head. he plants a kiss on each of your eyelids, taking his time to bask in the feeling of your weight under his lips.

he climbs on the opposite side of the bed, tucking you underneath the blanket before securely holding you from behind with his thigh hanging over yours. the warmth of your body and the scent of your shampoo cures the headache that’s been bothering him the whole day. he drifts off to sleep soon after.

—

the feather-light brushes through the silky locks of his hair pulls him out of his slumber half an hour later. he can make out your silhouette through his half-open eyes, the little-mermaid-like scene feels too vivid for a dream.

“why didn’t you wake me up?” you whine, sulking with a pout.

“i’m sorry.” he answers quietly, sitting up to engulf you in a tight embrace as endless apologies tumble from his tongue. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry that i gave up. i’m sorry that i hurt you. i’m so sorry… are you angry at me?”

“i’m upset.” you admit after a few beats, not seeing the point in sugarcoating it. “it hurts when i remember you saying that. and i understand you but… but i don’t like that you decided alone for us. if you do that again… then it will be over between us.”

he has an arm wrapped around your waist, his other hand firmly holding the back of your head. it’s a little hard to breathe, but it’s so reassuring to feel that he doesn’t want to let you out of his embrace. because you hated it — hated how it felt like letting you go was so easy.

“i regret everything. i’m sorry.” he whispers, concealing his tears by nuzzling his face on your neck. “and you’re not a burden. that’s not true.”

he knows that you mean your every word, so he lifts up his head to gaze directly into your eyes, showing that he is as sincere and true to his.

“from now on, all i’ll think about is what i can do to make you happy and safe without compromising our relationship… i’ll do better. i’ll love you better. i promise that i’ll be stronger for us. i won’t make the same mistake twice.”

you wish jungkook could be kinder to himself, treat himself with the same gentleness that comes so naturally with you. why is it that humans find loving themselves so laborious? why does being have to come with such a curse?

taking glimpses at the past, you should’ve been reminding him of these affirmations everyday.

“you don’t have to be strong all the time. i’m not asking for that.” you shake your head, voicing out yourself in a tone so soothing and illuminating. “i don’t want to go anywhere far away from you so think of yourself, too. i told you before, it’s okay to hold on to me. i’m also strong.”

jungkook feels so safe at home. he doesn’t remember what he was so worried of anymore.

“and you know what? if you really see it that way, then i’m telling you now. i want to waste my time on you. you can’t stop me.” your threatening eyes widen in conviction, provoking a sheepish smile to tug at the corners of his lips. “i always get what i want.”

“and you want me?” he innocently points at himself.

“love you.”

“i love you.” he replies, nosing at your neck before leaving a chaste kiss on your skin. “so much.”

“then put yourself in my shoes.” you hum, combing his hair with your fingers, lightly tugging to initiate eye-contact. “i want to take care of you just like how you want to take care of me. i think we have something rare and beautiful…” you pause, self-conscious about coming across as too needy now that you’re face-to-face, but an epiphany shatters your apprehension with a bow and an arrow.

this is what he needed to hear from you that day.

“so stay with me.”

jungkook’s vision becomes unfocused. he’s speechless; the only sound in the room is the humming of the airconditioner, but it’s almost as if you can hear the gears of his brain working their hardest. the pain that glossed his enchanting doe eyes has been replaced with a devotion you’ve never seen expressed so passionately in them before.

“all the time i own is yours.” he declares, cupping your face, the pad of his thumb daintily stroking your cheek. “all of it. we can do anything you want to do. let me make it up to you.”

“anything?” your face lights up with joy and mischief, and the butterflies in jungkook’s stomach come alive. he wants to make it his life’s mission to make you smile everyday; and that, he will do. “then i want you to kiss me.”

the sultriness of your enticing voice makes him go haywire. it’s been too damn long. he has forgotten what it feels like to kiss you. he slowly inches closer, his lips brushing against your lips before he pulls you in deeper, a fervent display of his yearning and apologies. he swallows the needy moan that escapes you as he slowly lays you down on the mattress, stripping off his shirt and mindlessly tossing it somewhere when you impatiently tug at it with another whimper. you cage his face in your hands, bringing back his lips on yours as if he’s the air that you breathe.

he wants to grieve for all the wasted time because everyday, he craved for this. to be honest, he forgets his name when he’s kissing you. outside, the crowds scream his name for being the best at what he does best, and he happily lives for the euphoria of it all. but in this room, there is only you and him. you communicate using the unspoken language of love with your lips. you bare the soft animal in yourselves with your teeth sinking in the other’s skin. you allow your rawest desires and truths to unravel with a slip of the tongue. he exists beyond his name, becomes an indecipherable enigma even to himself. what is the use of an explanation if there is no meaning anyway? all he knows is that he loves you despite all the reasons, against all the reasons.

he sneaks under your shirt, fingertips teasingly exploring your skin as if he’s drawing a map. he feels you quiver when he finally reaches your chest, gently kneading the soft flesh in his palm. this makes you mewl in pleasure, arching your back as your hand unconsciously curls around his wrist, the cotton fabric separating the two of you. the action electrifies jungkook, makes him lose himself a little more, which he didn’t think was still possible.

“touch me, please- jungkook. need you-” you choke out a desperate whimper, nearly sobbing as you guide his hand between your thighs. you can’t bear to spend another second untouched; the last time you made love feels like an eternity ago. he slips past the waistband of your underwear, the only article of clothing you’re wearing below. but to your disappointment, he gently caresses your hip bone instead of dipping his long fingers into your wetness.

“shh, hold on, baby-” he forces himself to break away from the kiss, swollen and red lips glistening with spit. “baby, look at me. you didn’t drink, right? i don’t want to take advantage.”

you gape at him with your chest heaving up and down, dumbfounded. “how could you even think of that right now?”

his eyes widen in panic, worried that he might’ve offended you. “no, no, no-” his palms skim your thighs, guiding them to wrap around his slim waist. you gasp when he presses up on you and his hard length rubs on your folds, sending jolts of electricity up your spine. a gush of arousal dampens the thin material covering your center.

“i want you so fucking bad that it hurts.” he gingerly wipes away the tears that you didn’t even notice streamed down to your temples. you can’t remember the last time you cried before today, they must’ve gotten tired of asking for your permission. “but you were crying when you called, baby. i had to make sure.”

“oh, my boyfriend is such a gentleman.” you muse dreamily. pepper his face with delicate kisses, lips curving upward with an adoring smile. “look at him enjoying my kisses.”

you playfully squeeze his cheeks together, making his pillowy lips pucker.

“you really wanted to break up with me in this case, huh? you wanted to live without me and my kisses? no way.”

his eyelids flutter open, and he shakes his head as he dips down to kiss you. “it was hell without you…” his teeth captures your bottom lip, nipping at the supple flesh. “going to build a life with you. i’ll build furniture, and they’re going to be ours.”

“good. you better.” your high-pitched giggles bounce off the walls as his lips trail down to your neck, licking a bold stripe over your ticklish spots. “i don’t have the patience for it, but i’ll be your trusty assistant.”

it’s ridiculous, how even the sound of your laughter turns him on even more.

—

jungkook learned that you finished your exams yesterday, having spent majority of the past two weeks pulling all-nighters to prepare for them. you seem to be confident about the results, the way you talked about it without concern. he never once doubted that you’re resolute and persevering, but acing your exams in the middle of a breakup is beyond what he can digest. it must’ve been a grueling experience, he can only imagine.

he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, and then your lips, before dragging the blanket higher over your naked figure, a thicker one he brought out from the cabinet. poor thing, you fell asleep on his lap while he was drying your hair, incoherently murmuring about how tired you are.

he walks to your study space, fixing the loosening towel wrapped around his waist. one by one, he pulls out the items from the paper bag, returning them to their old places on your desk. he toothily grins at the windbreaker, ecstatic due to his plan on wearing it at work today. he wants to give it back to you smelling like him again.

an index card lands on the ground when he unfolds it, making him peer down in curiosity.

“what’s this?” he mumbles, bending down to pick it up.

jumbled thoughts. a letter shoved at the back of the mailbox. a hesitant confession. a bittersweet reminder that says: a wound does not magically disappear overnight. it requires the proper treatment to heal correctly, and even then, it might still leave a scar.

These are only a few of many. Why is this the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do? I’m usually the more logical one. Was it really so bad that we weren’t going anywhere?

and messily crossed out at the end,

I miss you.

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

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jamsterrr · 3 months ago

Text

N. RIKI . . . MY BIGGEST HEADACHE ⭑.ᐟ

ni-ki. manager. headache proned. annoyance. teasing. “ just because you’re the assiastant doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do “. dickhead.

description. you grew up with your older brother heeseung playing basketball, so you knew much more than the next girl. but being the captain’s assistant isn’t easy when your your brothers annoying friend is apart of the team. when you get stuck riding with him on the way home. how will you do?

words : 2.8k

ni-ki x female!reader

contains. ‼️ ; sap , slight making out , tongue kissing ( ?? ) , cursing. ( let me know if i missed anything ! )

WARNING. : everything is fictional! and this is not how any of the enhypen members are at all! this is purely for fun and entertainment <3

part 1: my biggest headache | part 2: mbh: bet chapter

link to my masterlist . . . !

don’t take this serious. this is just a fanfic. tbh.. idk what this is.. i’m not even going to lie.. this kind of sucks.. and I feel like i should’ve named it something different but idk. it seemed to fit??! sorry if it’s so sappy, I was trying to at least get something out to you guys! 🥺 sorry it took me so long to put something out. i was sick for like the whole first week of august and i have a lot of stuff going on. but i have so many good drabbles! stay tuned <3 ( heeseung , jake , sunghoon drabbles soon ehehe )

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰

You were fairly a good student. You didn't do much outside of school but volunteer stuff, and that's probably how you ended up here in the first place. At the gym at 6:00 on a Friday, watching the team you helped coach, score each time from the other team. You had been ripping and running all day. You were tired, hungry, dehydrated and felt like you smelt like the bottom of Shrek's ass.

Your eyes were bouncing all over the court, landing on your brother Lee Heeseung, captain of the basketball team. Since you could remember, he was always teaching you something about basketball. At a young age you came to love it. It was something you both held dear to your hearts and something you bonded over. You would've joined if your school had a girls basketball team, but no one was interested. Accompanying your brother on the courts were his closest and best friends, some you came to adore and know.

Others... not so much.

They were Jake Sim. His longest friend. Park Sunghoon. Typically, the quietest one. Park Jongseong. But people called him Jay. And Nishimura Riki. But he went by the name Ni-ki. He was by far the most annoying. Maybe it's because he was the closest to your age. Or maybe it was the way that he didn't listen to anything you said, no matter what it was. You could hand him a water bottle in the hot sun, and he wouldn't take it.

That happened. Literally last weekend.

Each time it was the same thing. He wouldn’t comply with you, he’s always knock you down during practice, though you weren’t scared to try and do it back, though his height advantage beat you sometimes.

You tried to keep your cool. For your sake.

Regardless, you always tried to be nice to him, over and over. Chance after chance. But your patience was running thin. During the remainder of the first half of the game, you continued to watch, seeing the score for your team go up. The crowd cheering with each dribble of the ball down the court, Jake shooting and scoring a point. Soon the buzzer buzzed, and the first half of the game was over. You finally took the chance to sit down, taking a small seat until Heeseung came over and you smiled, a wave of happiness coming over you as you seen your brother.

"Hey." He spoke to you out of breath, his heart lips showing his full smile as you handed him a cold washcloth. "Hey." You replied back, watching him. The male mumbled a small thank you and you waited for him to finish before continuing to speak. "You did amazing out there. It was like watching Lebron James" you joked, and he rolled his eyes, nudging your shoulder. "Lying is bad, you'll get lie bumps." he said, sticking out his tongue at you.

You grinned and replied back. "Must be why your taste buds are visible. The two of you laughed before spotting Jake, his hands resting above his head. "Hey, Y/n" he spoke, your name rolling off his tongue, followed by his Australian accent. "Mind rounding up a couple water bottles for us Seven?" he asked, and you nodded. Knowing Jungwon and Nicholas were going to be put in the next game. "Of course, I'll be right back." You said, excusing yourself from the conversation you were having before making your way to concessions.

The line was full, and you had approximately 18 minutes to make it back with water bottles for the seven. While standing in line you couldn't help but notice Ni-ki walking from out the double doors, you crossed your fingers hoping he wouldn't bother you. To your luck, he didn't.

That was a first.

Waiting what felt like hours but had only been a couple of seconds, you felt a slightly taller presence behind you, their hands wrapped around your body as you slightly tensed. "Guess who~?" they sung out and you laughed. It was your best friend, Sunoo. The two of you met in Middle school when he was in 8th grade, two grades higher than you back when you met. The two of you instantly clicked.

"I didn't expect you to be here, I thought you went on that date?" you asked, and he moved his hands, pouting his perfect lips. "They cancelled, but hey, it's their loss." he spoke, and you nodded, agreeing with him.

"What are you in the concession line for?" The male asked, the two of you in your own little world, ignoring the hustle of the outside world, anyone but you two. "I'm getting water for everyone on the team, though I'm annoyed none of them brought their own water bottles." You groaned, leaning your head back slightly. "Or maybe they did and just want to make your life harder." Sunoo grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes as it was finally your turn to place your order. "Yes, May I please have 8 water bottles?" you say as the small child that was helping rounded up your total. Sunoo leaned over and whispered to you. "I thought you only needed Seven?" "Well, I want one too" you frowned.

After a small call over from the child, another lady helped them calculate the total, the little kid speaking. "That will be $16 ma'am, cash or card?" he asked, "Cash" you responded, feeling around in your pocket, patting your jacket *and* pants pocket, but not being able to find it nowhere. You leaned over to Sunoo, whispering slightly. "Do you by chance have $17 dollars? I'll pay you back, I promise you" said as he shook his head. "No, I only have 5, the ticket lady took my money" he frowned.

You couldn't even deal with the mountain of embarrassment that came over your body at the moment, your cheeks flushing red. Hell, your whole face. Until you saw a hand reaching across, and a $20 bill being handed to the small boy that started to count the change. You and Sunoo both looked over to see Ni-ki, his hair slightly sticking to his face, his side profile causing you to stare with a slight smirk on his face. You were slightly mesmerized by the males looks. He definitely wasn't the worst looking person you'd ever seen. If only his attitude towards you wasn't such a dickhead thing. Who knows, maybe the two of you would actually be friends. Sunoo and you collected the water while Ni-ki collected his change.

The three of you stepped out of line. "Uh, thanks..." you said, holding the cold-water bottles, before feeling Ni-ki take one from your hands. "Well, you were looking a little embarrassed in the line..." he said, sucking in air through his teeth. "I wouldn't have wanted to be you" he laughed, turning around. "I'll take my $17 in any form of payment" he said before turning around and walking back through the black double doors. Your eyebrows furrowed as you watch Sunoo roll his eyes. "Gosh, I don't know how you have the strength to deal with him. He's so sarcastic."

"To be fair, so are you" you laughed, and Sunoo rolls his eyes playfully. "Yeah, but I'm better" he joked, and you shook your head. "Okay, let's get these to the boys" you said, leading Sunoo to the boys, making their way over to you, thanking you for the water and smiling. "About time." Heeseung joked as you rolled your eyes and sat down.

Oh, weren't you ready to go home.

Once the second quarter of the game started you were back in your mode, making sure to keep look for any fouls. The people that were playing the game now was Nicholas, Jungwon, Jake, Sunghoon and Ni-ki. The quote-on-quote best players on the team.

Your eyes kept flickering towards Ni-ki. Trying hard to look away but the male was so captivating even though he boiled your blood with the things he said. As the crowd cheered, your eyes jumped to the score board. 42 ( — ) 24. Heeseung was on the 3-point line, dribbling the ball as he tossed the ball to Ni-ki who threw it back to Heeseung after distracting a couple of the opposing teammates that were near him at the time. Your brother shot the basketball, from the line. It goes in with a... *SWISH*.

The people on the crowd stood up, stomping and shouting, the cheerleaders performing and waiving their pompoms. The band performing. Total chaos in the school's gymnasium. A big smile on your face as you watched your brother get showered in the love he deserved.

You ran towards him, wrapping your arms around him, giving him a big hug. Feeling a sense of pride for your brother, for him to be doing something he truly enjoyed and getting credit for it along with the rest of the team. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of happiness. All those long weekends of practice and after school practice came in handy. The score flashing 45 ( — ) 24.

“Hey, can you get a ride from Ni-ki? I’m not going straight home and everyone else already left. I already asked him, and he said yes.” Heeseung spoke as you frowned. “I really don’t want to; you know me and him don’t get alone. I can’t promise you I’ll be nice.” You crossed your arms as you put your book-bag strap over your shoulder, after uncrossing your arms.

“Oh, come on, try and be nice? I will be home later but I’m sure you’re ready to just go home. It’s only like a 15-minute drive, you will be okay.” Heeseung spoke, leaning and pressing a soft kiss to your head. “Don’t wait up for me.” He spoke. “WASNT. planning on it” you said slightly annoyed, but you couldn’t even be mad at him. You sighed, searching the halls, calling out the male's name gently, getting louder with each call.

“Ni-ki!” You shouted, groaning as you looked around, screaming and raising your hand to hit the male once he popped out from the corner, grabbing your hand as he laughed. His hand holding your wrist, gripping it tightly. “God-! You scared the shit out of me!” You whine and gently took your wrist from his hand. The male let it go and laughed a little. “Yeah, sorry about that... not” he laughed, and you rolled your eyes. “You’re annoying. Take me home.” The attitude evident in your voice as he rolled his eyes at it, standing there for a second, his gaze burning a whole into you.

You took a deep breath before looking at the male and hummed. “Please...” you said, biting your tongue. You didn’t want to stall anymore, you just wanted to go home and that was it. Needing a hot shower, something to eat and relax yourself on your bed since it was the afternoon. “Yes, I can.” He finally spoke, him glancing at you before he started walking to the back of the school, the parking lot where every student with a car parked. It was quiet except for the two of your footsteps, the sound of the door opening as he held it out for you, a soft “thank you” escapes your lips as the two of you made it quietly to the male's car.

Not knowing whether it would be rude of not to sit in the back seat, you got into the passenger side of the male's car, placing your book bag on the floorboard in-front of you, buckling up your seatbelt.

Ni-ki did the same and started the car, turning on the radio as he drove off. The first bit of the car ride was a little awkward. You didn’t move much, causing you to get a slight stiff in your neck since you were looking out your window. Something came over you that made you ask the question.

“Why are you always such an asshole to me?” You didn’t know why you had the urge to say it right now out of all times, I mean you could have just easily did it at school when you didn’t have to see him that much, but you asked him in his car. “An asshole to you?” He answered your question with a question. Leaning back in his seat as he turned his head to look at you, his eyes roaming your body.

“Yeah, an asshole to me.” You replied firmly. “I’m not an asshole to you.” He answered, causing you to scoff. “Ni-ki, don’t play stupid with me. You know what I’m talking about. Ever since I started being the assistant you have gave me nothing but trouble. I want to know why, what have I done to you?” You asked, now starting to wonder what truly could be behind the male's mind. Ni-ki started driving, the car ride being silent. Filled with the awkward silence and the soft tunes of the radio. The time flew by. To you it seemed like it’s been at least an hour. But the 15 minutes was coming to a stop.

“I don’t know, I just think you’re fun to mess with.” He spoke, but you weren’t buying it. “Can I ask you a question?” Ni-ki asked, pulling up in front of your house, parking in the driveway, in the spot Heeseung normally parked in, but since he wasn’t home. Ni-ki used it. “What’s that?” You ask, slightly curious at the question you were about it to be asked.

“Do you and Sunoo date?” He asked, not looking at you, his eyes staring straight forward as he bit his bottom lip gently, putting the car into park.

Nothing could have prepared you for that question. You widened your eyes slightly at it. “What- no- Sunoo is my best friend. Why would you even ask that? What business is it to you?” You asked, - shocked - your lips slightly agape. “Good.” Is all he said.

“Good??!” You repeated and he finally looked at you, his eyes flickering around your face, clearly noticing your slightly distraught but concerned look.

What happened to the Ni-ki I know? The one that makes me want to ring my brain out. Why was he acting like this?

The male licked his lips and gently placed his hand on your cheek, biting his bottom lip as you felt your heart began to race. “Wh-what are you doing?” You question before feeling his soft and plush lips against yours. Your eyes closing as you let yourself melt into the kiss. it was like something snapped inside of you. After all these times, the feelings you couldn’t deny rushed into your body, butterflies fluttering with each sound both of your lips made smacking together.

Your body was turned, facing his as you ran your hands through his hair, his hands placed on your hips, slightly rubbing the skin there. His tongue poked at your bottom lip as you opened your mouth, allowing the males tongue to explore the inside of your mouth.

The two of you pulled away the only thing connecting you two was a single strand of spit that was soon gone, heavy pants playing loudly over the man that was speaking on the radio. “What was that..?” You questioned, licking your lips as your eye fluttered to look at him.

A soft smirk appeared on his lips. “Me saying that I’ll pick you up tomorrow, that we should actually get to know each other better.” Ni-ki smiled and placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing the skin of your cheek.

“Can I see about that..?” You slightly blushed and he nodded. Taking his hand, you gently intertwined your fingers and placed a soft kiss on the back of his hand, getting out of the car and grabbing your backpack. “See you..” you said before he waved and returned it with a smile. “See you.” Once you were clear out of the way of the car, Ni-ki pulled off and made his way out of the neighborhood, you stood still for a second, sighing as you watched his car disappear. You touched your lips which were now a little swollen and a bit tingling from the kiss that still lingered on your mind.

Gosh, what did you do.

After you finally showered, feeling the freshest that you could, you sat down in your bed, hearing a bunch of iPhone dings coming from your notifications. It was a group chat filled with the basketball team, excluding your brother. A new one.

Y/N kisses Ni-ki. [ the bet. ]

Ni-ki: [ *sent 2 attatchments, picture & video* ]

Jake: I knew it was going to happen.

Nicho: Ha! Called it. Pay up.

Jungwon: SOOOO not fair. I thought it’d be at least 2 months.

Sunghoon: damn, I owe Sunoo $70

Jay: 💀

You widen your eyes. Was that what that was? Were you just a bet. To see how long it would be until you kissed someone apart of the basketball team. Your best friend even participating in it. You felt disgusting. Your head pounding after you left the group chat, tears welding into your eyes. Your head pounding.

“Fucking Nishimura. My biggest headache.”

#fanfic #kpop fanfic #fanfiction #enhypen ff #enhypen fanfiction #heesung enhypen #jay enhypen #enhypen jake #enhypen #enhypen niki #niki x reader #ni ki fluff #enha x reader #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #kpop ff #enhypen fic

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rosyhoneydew · 3 months ago

Text

I Simply Say (Baby)

Written for @bucktommypositivityweek | Day 2: nicknames and terms of endearment.

“Uh, hey, I’m gonna take this for a sec, you want another beer when I come back, Eddie?” Buck asks, already en route to the kitchen.

“Yeah, thanks,” Eddie says, a knowing smirk on his face.

There’s not really any need for the secrecy, Eddie saw the ‘Tommy ❤️’ contact light up on Buck’s phone, and even if he hadn’t, there aren’t many people Buck would pick up for on guys’ night. But, he still hasn’t quite gotten around to filling Chris in yet. It’s not like he tells the kid about everybody he dates, but this is Tommy and he’s their friend and it would feel too weird keeping that from him.

Chris got back from Eddie’s parents’ place just over a week ago, and Eddie’s pretty intent on making things feel, as much as possible, like he never left. Buck gets it. Chris leaving was shitty for him, he can’t bring himself to think about how hard these past weeks have been for Eddie.

“Hey,” he sighs out as he answers the call.

“Hey.” Buck can hear the smile in his voice and it fills him with warmth. He loves that smile. “How’s guys’ night?” Tommy asks.

“Yeah, yeah it’s good.” Buck leans against the counter, ears tuning in to the light giggles he can hear from the living room. It’s felt like forever since he saw Eddie this carefree. “It’s nice. Feels like old times, you know?”

Tommy hums a response.

“Hey, you should come next time,” Buck adds.

“Me?”

Buck huffs a small laugh, “Yes, you.” He makes for the fridge, grabbing two beers and cracking them open with the phone wedged between his shoulder and ear. “I mean, Eddie would love it, Chris hasn’t seen you since he left, and that way,” he grabs his phone again, bringing it closer to his mouth like a secret, “I won’t have to miss you all night while I’m here.”

“Oh yeah? Well, it’s hard to argue with that logic.” Tommy responds.

Buck smiles, it feels good, flirting like this with Tommy. It’s so easy with the two of them, he’s not sure it’s ever gotten so good so fast with anyone else he’s dated.

“You finished up your shift?” He asks, guessing the reason Tommy called.

“Mmhm. Pretty smooth night. I’m headed home now, you going to be a bit?” Tommy asks.

“Uh, maybe?” Buck reenters the living room, carrying their drinks, to see Eddie and Chris have put away the Xbox, but already queued up a movie. “Yeah,” he amends, “definitely gonna be a little while.”

Eddie’s such a sucker for the kid right now, he’s probably planning on letting Chris stay up all night if it means spending as much time as possible with him.

Tommy laughs on the line. “All good, sweetie, have fun, okay? Tell them I say ‘hi.’”

“Buck! Hurry up, we’re hitting play,” Chris calls out.

“Okay, love you, baby,” Buck says to Tommy, quickly hanging up the phone.

He gets a few steps closer to the couch before he realizes he said all of that out loud and in front of Eddie and Chris. Oops.

“Who was that?” Chris asks, teasing note in his voice. God, that kid is more and more like his dad every day.

“Uh, that- that was Tommy. The pilot from Harbor station?”

“I remember Tommy,” Chris says. “You called him ‘baby.’”

“Yeah, uh, we’re sort of together now.” Buck sets their beers down on the coffee table for something to do.

“Like boyfriends?”

“Yep.”

“Oh,” Chris says. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Good question.

“Well, I guess I just… I didn’t want to surprise you too much?” He finally settles into his spot on the couch again.

“I don’t care who you’re dating.”

Buck laughs at that, finally feeling the tension break. There wasn’t much, Chris is a good kid, but he can’t help that knee-jerk reaction for a second when he’s telling someone new.

“Well I do care who you’re dating and I’m happy for you and Tommy,” Eddie finally chimes in, smiling between the two of them.

“You know, I thought maybe he could come over next week for guys’ night?” Buck offers.

“Sure,” Chris says, “Tommy’s really cool.”

“Yeah, he is, huh?” Buck says. Because Tommy might be the coolest, best person he knows.

“Works for me,” Eddie says, leaning over to hit play on Close Encounters, “but we are not watching Star Wars with him, again.”

Chris laughs and Buck rolls his eyes fondly as the music fades in on the TV. A few minutes later his phone chimes and lights up again with a message, I love you too, honey ❤️.

#911 abc #bucktommy #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #tevan #kinkley #bucktommy ficlet #tevan ficlet

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pkg4mumtown · 3 months ago

Text

Medicine at Midnight

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Summary: A night out with Hotch and his team leads to either the best or worst mistake you could have made.

Content Warnings: smut 18+, alcohol, GN!reader (no Y/N), friends with benefits, strong language, first person POV

A/N: My entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Criminal Minds Friends with Benefits Challenge. It also happens to be the first CM fic I’ll be posting but certainly not the last! I’m currently working on a multi-chapter Hotch x Male!Reader fic, so stay tuned. I’ve also added the playlist I used for Hotch inspiration at the end of the post.

Also available on AO3

I barely managed to enter my apartment and drop my gear to the floor when the shrill ringtone of my cellphone broke the otherwise pleasant silence.

Fuck. Me.

I plead to whoever is listening that it’s not my section chief calling about a case. I ripped the cellphone from my pocket, too frustrated to even look at the caller ID as I snapped out my last name.

“Rough night?” came the deep, soothing voice on the other end.

Oh.

“Hey, Aaron,” I sighed and relaxed. “Sorry, I thought it was another case.”

“It’s okay. Are you busy?” He asked and I could hear the slightest hint of hope in his voice.

“Depends on what you’re going to ask me and...what I’ll get in return,” I stressed. “I just got home.”

“I can promise free drinks,” he chuckled, the vibrations buzzing through to my end of the phone. “The team is going out and Dave just went out of town.”

Hotch doesn't need to say more than that for me to understand what he’s asking. He wants a social buffer and for free drinks I’ll do just about anything for him.

His team had helped the DC Field Office with a case that I oversaw about six months back. The case had quickly spiraled out of control with multiple unsubs, and I begged my chief to let us call the BAU in for help. While they didn’t swoop in and solve the case in a matter of days, they certainly got it back to a manageable position. What would have taken months of work was quickly cut down to two weeks.

Since it was still relatively local, Hotch’s team would go home every night and come back bright and early. One of the first nights with them on the case, I waved them goodnight; standing like I would be leaving shortly after them. As they disappeared out of sight, I sat back down and stayed firmly planted at my desk. I was still flipping through files over the umpteenth coffee of the day when soft footsteps stopped in front of my desk.

“You’re still here?”

Hotchner.

“Yea, I’m just...” I gestured vaguely to the files. “I don’t really know what I’m looking for anymore. Just hoping I can find something.” I gave him a tight smile as he hovered by my desk. His bag was nowhere in sight, so it was clear he had no plans to leave either.

The grim smile on his face confirmed that he was doing exactly the same.

“I’m sure he's waiting for you at home,” he nodded to the picture on my desk as I went back to looking at the files in front of me.

“That’s my cousin,” I stated without having to look. “No one’s waiting for me, I promise you that. Plus, you don’t seem like you’re leaving either, so...”

“Got me there,” Hotch smirked, shifting his weight nervously as I paid half-attention to him. “I won’t snitch if you won’t? My son is with his aunt, so my apartment is a little depressing.”

At that confession, I looked back up at him as his expression turned crestfallen.

“Deal. You can pull up a chair, if you want.” I suggested, seeing that the floor was pretty much empty now and it seemed cruel to make him sit by himself wherever we were able to stuff his team on the cluttered floor.

This went on for the next two weeks that the BAU worked with us and each night the ice broke a little more. That extra hour or two after the team left progressed from talking about the case to talking about ourselves. It was surprisingly easy considering his personality on a case, but once his defenses came down, he was more relaxed and even threw in a smile that I began to notice was quite rare.

I began noticing his nearly imperceptible antics when he was stressed. His tight expression would feign focus but his white-knuckled grip on whatever was in his hand told a different story. I caught myself pressing a finger to his tight fist throughout the day, making him aware of what he was doing before removing my fingers as soon as his fist loosened. At some point, he stopped straining his hand muscles, but I’d feel his finger pressing firmly against one of mine whenever he was near me. It was usually brief, just enough to feel the ridges on each other’s fingers before his touch was gone.

After the case was over, I never expected to hear from him. Hotch’s number stayed saved in my phone from the case, but never once did I expect to see it flash across my screen while driving home one night. Drinks became a nearly weekly occurrence between the two of us—provided neither of us were on a case—and while nothing more ever happened, I couldn't tell what his endgame was. We chatted about the weeks we both had, family, sorrows—all of it—all the while our hands pressed against each other just to feel another person.

I chalked it up to anxiety for him and loneliness for myself.

Despite our nights out together, we never went out with his team, and I hadn't seen them since the case all those months ago. So, it was a little unnerving to accept his invitation. How would he explain us being on friendly terms now despite not knowing each other prior to the case? Would they even care? Does it even matter?

“Uh, sure. Where at? I just need to change,” I answered him.

“I’ll pick you up in twenty?” he asked, and I shouldn’t have been surprised at his need to drive by now.

Control freak.

“Okay.”

“See you soon.”

I changed into something more comfortable, but not too comfortable. I didn’t want to look like I wanted to stay home curled on my couch.

Even if that sounded heavenly right now. Hotch could come, too.

When Aaron sent a text to tell me he was here, I was out the door in a few seconds. The inside of his SUV lit up as I opened the door, revealing him dressed in a dark, long-sleeved sweater and jeans.

“Hey,” he greeted me as I climbed in.

“Thanks for picking me up.”

Once I was seated and buckled, I rested my arm on the center console next to his. His sleeves were pushed up to his forearms, his hair tickling my skin as he took off. At the first red light we hit, he adjusted the radio and brought his hand back down to land directly on mine.

He didn’t move it, and I didn’t want him to.

The air was thick with booze and sweat as we entered the bar. It was different from the one Hotch and I usually frequented, preferring something quieter and lower key than this one. It’s crowded, not surprising for a Friday night, but it sure did make it more difficult to locate his team. This time, I'm the one initiating contact, pressing two fingers into his palm as we approached where the team was tucked into a back corner booth. I removed my fingers before they noticed our approach.

“Hotch!” They all greeted him at varying levels of excitement with empty glasses already littering the table.

How long had they been here already?

Morgan had begun moving the team deeper in the booth to make room for us when I recognized a member of their team who I had only seen via a computer screen.

“Hey, nice to see you again,” I greeted everyone, having to raise my voice as the music battled with the overlapping conversations around us. “You must be Garcia,” I reached over and shook her hand as we slid in.

Her excitement was contagious, and I couldn’t help myself from grinning as she spoke and reintroduced the team by first name. There were looks and eyebrows exchanged between the others as they likely wondered exactly what I’d feared, but none of them expressed their questions verbally.

“Drink?” I heard Hotch ask as a waiter came by and I nodded to him, knowing it’ll help my nerves.

I didn’t even need to tell him what drink to order at this point.

“Thanks,” I smiled and felt him shift closer to me until our legs were practically glued together.

It must have been my lucky day because the team kept the conversation topics relatively light as the night wore on. There were plenty of shots going around—Hotch only agreeing to have one with them in solidarity—coupled with food, a few spill mishaps, and raucous laughter. Hotch laughed and smiled with them but not nearly as loudly. He did surprisingly well anxiety-wise, so I wasn’t entirely sure why he wanted me here in the first place. I was having fun, though, and he’d insisted on paying for me, so I didn’t think too hard on it.

My hands were both above the table fidgeting with the condensation on my glass as we loudly discussed the current topic. Hotch tapped his fingers on his glass rhythmically with one hand while the other dropped below and landed on my leg. I jumped at the contact and hoped everyone was too inebriated to notice.

No dice.

Spencer's glassy eyes snapped to my movement briefly, JJ made eye contact across the table with Penelope, Emily stared me dead in the eyes, and Derek stared at Hotch. If I wasn't also in the same line of work, it might not have been so noticeable considering they hadn’t stopped the conversation.

Hotch played it off, slouching back against the booth and laughing at whatever Emily was recanting, looking a little more at ease with the touch.

Now, I notice the difference.

As nonchalantly as possible, he relaxed his arm, slipped his hand between my knees, and tucked his palm under my leg to cup where my hamstring met the bend in my leg. I could feel his warmth through my pants and the way his thumb obsessively traced the inner seam near my knee.

I almost thought they would ignore the way he was leaning noticeably closer, and I was sorely disappointed when Penelope spoke up after Emily finished.

Penelope's eyes were perceptive, and she leaned forward playfully while Derek leaned into her with his arm draped over her shoulder, “So, you two,” she began. Her eyes were twinkling with far too much mischief and now I believed every word from Hotch about how much trouble her and the man next to her got in to together, “You’re...?”

I grinned, laughing off her intrigue and kept my voice as steady as possible, “We’re friends.”

Derek in this state was even more blunt, teasing Hotch further with a smirk playing on his lips, “With benefits?”

Penelope gasped that he followed up with that line while the others hid giggles behind their drinks.

Hotch’s brow furrowed and he lifted his drink off the table as a flush rose up his neck to his cheeks. He took a sip while looking in my direction and I held his gaze. There’s a look I didn’t quite recognize there. “Without sex?” he finally said once he swallowed and set his glass down, “Then, what’s the benefit?”

The entire table erupted into laughter. Derek and Penelope were practically laughing on top of each other, Emily was laughing behind the hand clasped over her mouth with huge, surprised eyes, and Spencer was laughing into JJ's shoulder.

I was just as surprised as them and hadn’t broken eye contact with Aaron yet. His hand had reassuringly squeezed my leg as he smirked to let me know he was joking. With a challenging glint in my eyes, I finally responded as the laughter died down a bit. “My delightful company, asshole,” I shoved him with my shoulder. “And someone to talk to and...did I mention my winning personality?”

Hotch laughed, closing his eyes and leaned heavily back into me. He moved his hand from my leg to wrap his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side.

“Dick,” I murmured playfully through a fake frown.

Aaron just slid over a leftover shot as consolation.

The rest of the night passed in a blur, but the sudden mention of sex has me sweating underneath my clothes. Hotch’s heavy arm and sweater did nothing to help that. It wasn’t like I was unaware of his attractiveness; I was simply unsure of his intentions considering we had never spoke about our relationship. There were plenty of times I had to talk myself out of kissing him despite how easy it would have been, but the look in his eyes when he said that had me digging up all those thoughts again.

It wasn’t a terrible idea. We were both single, busy, and hung out enough as it was. I liked to think were both mature enough to handle something like that. I took another long swig of my drink with a deep frown that I didn’t realize was there.

“You okay?” he dropped his head to murmur close to my ear.

He snapped me out of my thoughts, and I gave him a reassuring grin, “Yea.”

The bar crowd grew thinner and thinner as time passed. Reid looked like he could fall asleep any second and JJ was the only barrier holding him up. The team soon rose, promising to take cabs home to reassure their boss that they were all responsible adults.

Derek gave Aaron one last sly smirk before following Penelope and the others. Hotch just shook his head at him with an amused sigh.

“Thank you for coming with me tonight,” Aaron murmured once they were gone, his voice low now that the bar was much quieter than it was hours ago.

“Of course. It was fun,” I leaned my head on his shoulder.

Despite the absence of the others, he didn’t retract his arm, and my heart started pounding a little faster at the thought. His touch felt more intimate after all that and it made my thoughts race.

How much was I reading into this? How wrong was I? And did I want to do something about it?

“Ready to go? It’s almost midnight,” He asked.

I nodded, finishing my drink.

The drive back to my place was quiet and I fiddled with his hand the entire drive. Between that and my constant looking over at him, he definitely knew something was wrong.

“What’s on your mind?” He raised an eyebrow and gave me a quick glance but refocused his eyes back on the road immediately.

“Hmm?”

“You’re being weird. Is it what I said back there? Because I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he gave me his full attention once he pulled up in front of my building.

“No, no, you’re fine,” I squeezed his fingers. “Just a lot on my mind,” I sighed. I looked out at my apartment building next to us and pursed my lips.

Fuck it.

“You—uh—wanna come up?”

There was absolutely no other reason for me to ask that. He had to know why I was asking without me saying it outright.

Right?

My nerves were on fire and my mind raced with all the possibilities he could come back with. Silent, Hotch took a beat to think and reached for the keys in the ignition, “Sure.”

Oh.

I was hyper aware of Aaron’s presence as he followed me upstairs to my apartment door. My hands were practically shaking with anticipation as I fiddled with the keys. Once I was inside, I left the door open for him and heard him lock it behind me. The click cemented my determination on the matter.

“Make yourself at home,” I nodded toward the couch and started flipping lights on. “Want something to drink?”

“I still have to drive,” he declined, his eyes following me to the kitchen.

“You can always stay here,” I reached up into my cabinets for two glasses and poured a drink for myself and a scotch for Hotch.

“Is that so?” His voice rumbled behind me, much closer than he had been a few seconds ago.

When the hell did he sneak up on me?

I turned to face him, finding him far closer than I imagined. I passed him his drink, which he took a tall sip of, and I hurried to catch up.

That sip must have given him the courage he needed because he set the glass back on my counter and took another step forward. His hand found my waist with a light touch. It wasn’t hesitant by any means, but light enough to ask permission to continue. Unlike the nervous movements in his hands earlier, his hands were confident and intentional now.

“Is this okay?”

��—eah,” I struggled to say as my voice got caught in my throat.

Hotch took the glass from my hand and set it behind me, crowding what little space I had left. We were tense with anticipation as we both leaned in, giving each other enough time to back out. His nose brushed mine, then his lips, before he was fully pressed against me. His tongue flicked out making me gasp and open mine wider. My hands slid under his sweater, feeling his warm skin beneath my fingers. We stayed like that; exploring, consuming, devouring until there was a pause between us. The was air heavy with desire and our breathing.

As I caught my breath, I reached back and grabbed my glass, taking the opportunity to throw back the last of the liquid. Aaron did the same, keeping his eyes fixated on the way my lips wrapped around the glass. I left my glass on the counter and took his hand, tugging him toward my bedroom. I heard his glass clatter on the counter as he left it behind in a rush to follow me.

I threw him a look over my shoulder and tugged my top off, throwing it off to the side. Aaron didn’t need to be encouraged anymore further and ripped his hand out of mine to follow suit. Clothes and shoes were haphazardly discarded until there was nothing left between us. I barely had time to sift through my drawer for the essentials before he was grabbing me around the waist and tugging me onto the mattress. His mouth reconnected with mine, his fingers digging into the mattress as his hips ground down against mine.

“Fuck me, please,” I panted as soon as our mouths separated.

“Gladly.”

He blindly reached for the condom I tossed near him. Once he located it, his oversized fingers fumbled with the packaging. The task was eventually accomplished with minimal difficulty and only a couple giggles as he accidentally pinched himself. The laughter eased the butterflies in my stomach, and I hoped this wouldn’t fuck up whatever we had going for us prior to tonight.

Aaron quickly snatched the bottle of lube and coated his fingers generously. As his fingers pressed against my entrance, I whined in anticipation and wriggled my hips to get him moving. I watched his eyes flutter shut as he put more pressure, jaw dropping in concentration as he focused. As soon as his fingers breached, he couldn’t help himself.

I felt the wet heat of his mouth descend on me, his tongue swirling and lips sucking on my overly sensitive skin. I was torn between tilting my head back to enjoy the feeling and wanting to watch his mouth work. I finally decided to look down, my breath catching as I saw his eyes already trained on me through his lashes. His cheeks hollowed ever so slightly as he sucked making me reach to grab his hair for any sort of purchase. The noises that came from him were sinful and I eventually had to pull his head away once I felt myself ready.

“Need you, please,” I pulled him up to me, feeling him pull his fingers out gently.

We were both understandably impatient with the mix of alcohol and lust. He reached for a pillow with his clean hand and stuffed it under my hips for a better angle. With one last pass of lube over the condom, I felt the blunt press of him against me.

“I’ve got you,” his breath stuttered as he guided himself inside slowly.

My fingers dug into his shoulders as he bottomed out before moving down his back and urging him to go. I let out a moan of relief as his hips started moving, rocking into me slowly at first. Without warning, his mouth sealed over mine and swallowed the gasp I let out as he sharply thrusted, hitting exactly where I need him to.

“More,” I mumbled against his lips.

Aaron was efficient, even now, and repeated himself until I was a whining mess underneath him. He sat up, making enough space to slip his hand between us. I clenched involuntarily as his calloused fingers stroked me, bringing me that much closer to release.

“You feel so good,” he panted. “Squeeze me again.”

I do as he asked, squeezing around him each time he pulls out. The groans pulled from his chest only added fuel to the fire and I didn’t know how I ever survived without hearing them. My hands couldn’t stay still, moving from gripping his arms to running across his collarbone and chest.

“I’m gonna come, I—” I had cut myself off by bringing Hotch’s mouth back down to mine. My muscles tightened as my release washed over me, fingers digging into whatever I can reach while I clenched around the cock still driving inside me.

Aaron removed his hand from between us, doubling down on his efforts to finish himself. His head tucked into my neck, giving me an even better opportunity to hear Aaron’s moans as he reached his orgasm. His hips stuttered as his release pulsed throughout his body, making him tremble in my arms. When he couldn’t handle the overstimulation anymore, he let himself slip out of me.

He let out a deep hum as we caught our breath, pressing one last kiss to my neck before pushing himself up to his feet. He cleaned himself with a grimace with me not far behind, eager to get the slick substance off my skin. I headed straight back to bed, flopping on the slightly sweaty sheets.

I’m too tired to fix that, I decided.

“I meant it, you can stay,” I mumbled in the dark as I heard his movement pause somewhere between the bed and the bathroom. “Don’t need you getting behind the wheel right now.”

“Mm, thanks,” his sleepy voice returned.

The bed dipped beside me and soon the length of his body was pressed against my back.

A sharp jolt pulled me out of my deep slumber. Through the haze I finally I heard the piercing ringtone of a phone. It’s not mine, I realized as I listen to it a second longer. The bed shifted next to me and frantic footsteps thudded across my floor as Aaron looked for his phone.

If he ended up with a case, it was going to massively suck for his hungover team.

“Hey, Jess,” he answered in a far less panicked tone than his feet originally suggested. “Uh, yea. Yea, one is good. Okay, see you then.”

He came back into the room with a more relaxed posture than when he left. He sat on the edge of the bed on the side I was still curled up on, watching him move with sleepy eyes.

“Just Jessica letting me know she’s dropping off Jack at my place at one,” he relayed.

A quick glance at the clock let me know it was only 10:00 AM, which wasn’t bad considering the night we had.

Aaron's hand found my ankle through the sheets, letting his hand glide up to my calf and back down. His face was contemplative though not as outwardly noticeable as the way I chewed the inside of my cheek.

He spoke first.

“That was,” he started, letting a smirk spread over his features, “fun.”

“It was. I…wouldn’t mind if it happened again.”

“Me either,” he punctuated with a squeeze of my calf.

There was a comfortable silence for a minute until he spoke up again, “I’m just—I'm not really looking to—.” He stopped and started again, “Since Haley died I—I’m just not...”

He didn’t have to explain to me the fact that his ex-wife slash high school sweetheart being murdered had done a number on his psyche. I didn’t blame him.

“I get it, Aaron. I’m not either. I’m way too busy and—I just don’t want to,” I replied. It wasn’t a total truth, but it also wasn’t a total lie. I was too busy but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to.

For Aaron, though? I would take what he gave me.

He relaxed a little, his eyes a little sad and I wondered if he could see right through me.

I hope he didn’t.

“I should go,” he murmured, leaning forward and pressing a chaste kiss to my cheek while the other side was pressed into my pillow.

When he pulled away, I turned my head to really look at him head on, not expecting him to come back down and kiss me again. This time on my lips, slowly and sensually; a far cry from the desperation last night. When my eyes opened, he was already up and looking for his clothes.

“I’ll see you next weekend?” I rubbed my hands over my face, sitting up as he gets dressed.

He flashed me a look as if to say “obviously” and threw my discarded top at my face.

“Be careful,” I called after him.

“You, too,” he paused, patting his jeans to make sure all of his belongings were in order. When he was satisfied, he gave me a gentle smile and headed in the direction of my front door.

“Lock the door behind me!” he yelled back before opening the front door and shutting it behind him.

I rolled my eyes and flopped back over onto the bed on my side. I still smelled his scent on my sheets and wondered how I could have thought that this would be a good idea.

Ever get the feeling nothing else will do?

I could hear you singing

I can’t explain, I need

Medicine at midnight

But it ain’t no cure

Medicine at midnight howling

But it ain’t no cure

I may be sick but you know I’m yours

-Medicine at Midnight, Foo Fighters

#mentioningmargins #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #gn!reader #hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #Fic: medicine at midnight #my art #hotchner x you #Spotify

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emmyrosee · 9 months ago

Note

EMMY MY DEAREST MY BABY MY BELOVED <333

could I be a bit greedy and make another teeny tiny request?? you don’t have to feel obligated to do it AT ALL if you don’t want to!!! I’ve just been having an interesting time lately and you do comfort so well ☹️

genuinely all I’ve wanted all week is to be babied a bit/taken care of/pampered/absolutely smothered with soft gentle affection by atsumu when he starts to notice I’m getting overwhelmed or burnt out :(

I think he’d be good at catching it before it gets too out of control and keeping me sane. he wouldn’t let me lift a finger and he’d be so over the top with his physical affection cuz he knows I love that 😕

I feel so bad bc I feel like I’ve been bugging you a lot lately so pls pls pls don’t feel like you have to!!! I completely understand, there’s no pressure 🫶🏻🫶🏻

anon <3

YOU HAVENT BUGGED ME IN LIKE. FOUR MONTHS HUSH YOUR CUTE FACE- EVEN IF YOU DID SEND ME ANYTHING RECENTLY, YOURE NOT A BOTHER AND I LOVE YOU 😠❤️

he catches it pretty much immediately, with how you were clinging to him a little bit more than usual last night, brows seemingly forever pinched in the middle of your head and your fingers fisting the collar of his night shirt. he didn't say anything, but he definitely makes a note to keep an eye on it.

especially when, the next morning, you turn to your side to let him get ready for practice, and you hike the blankets higher and screw your eyes shut to try and tune him out.

he sees this, and crawls his body back into bed, mind now only focusing on taking care of you before you drown.

"peepee-poopoo," he whispers, hanging his head upside down to look at you, his blonde hair hanging shaggily. "where's my fighty baby this morning, hmm?"

you shrug and avoid his eyes, and pulls his head back to take this more seriously, "c'mere. come talk to me."

"you have to go-"

"i don't have to do a thing," he assures. he's quick to take out his phone and text coach that he's not going to make it, but he doesn't tell you that because the last thing you need is worrying about him missing a day to care for you.

which is one of his favorite things to do- but you fight him on it constantly. and he hopes today you're compliant enough to let him be here for you.

"do you want to talk about it?" he asks, gently rubbing his knuckles over your shoulder, and when you shake your head, he leans over your body again to kiss your cheek. "okay," he whispers, lingering for a minute before pulling back to head to the kitchen to make you breakfast.

breakfast, that was supposed to be in bed, but you worked up the courage to wade into the kitchen not long after him. "hey-" you begin, but you're cut off by the yelp from his lips and the dropping of an egg square to the floor, which you both look at blankly.

he starts to snicker, "whups."

"sorry."

he clicks his tongue, "shut up- come get a kiss," he says, stepping over the egg and pulling you into a hug, and his shoulders relax when you loosen in his arms. he sponges kisses to the crown of your head, "don't ever be sorry for something i did. it wasnt your fault."

you immediately tense back up, and atsumu knows his hit the nail on the head with it, and you burrow your face deeper into his chest and he tightens his grip on you to keep you grounded. "go back to bed," he soothes. "im with you today-"

"i dont want to be so far from you," you say, and he smiles as you dont put up an argument, dont scold him for staying, but his heart sinks slightly at the idea that youre so in your head all you can think about is him right now. "not today. can i stay?"

"id be bummed if you didn't," he says. he smirks and scoops you in his massive arms, relishing in the giggles you let you as he carries you and sets you on the counter, where he then feeds you slices of fruit while your eggs sear on the oven. he feeds you breakfast bite for bite, placing a straw in some water for you to drink before carrying you to the bathroom, where he tells you to brush your teeth.

you get shy, "can... do you think... maybe-"

"yeah," he smiles. "open up, babe."

he brushes your teeth, sure to get all the areas the dentist warns him about, before pulling back with a happy sigh and holding out his hand.

you quirk a brow, "what?"

"spit it into my hand."

"ew!" you laugh, and god it truly is his favorite sound, and you turn your head to spit the froth in the sink. "youre nasty."

"and you picked me first. too late to question your choice."

"yet i do every day."

"little fucker," he snickers, and when he makes a move to tickle you, you dart away, laughter ringing in the air as he barrels down after you, down the hall and into the bedroom, where he tackles you onto the bed. "i made you breakfast and this is the thanks i get?" he sighs, playfully punching your tummy, successfully dodging your hands to try and still his barely touching fists.

"l-learn from osamu," you manage, and his jaw slacks at your audacity while you giggle more in anticipation.

"you're annoying," he snorts, leaning down to nibble your ear and neck while his fingers spider up your sides, you shriek and shove his shoulders weakly. he stops and kisses the rest of the giggles from your lips, and he hums when you wrap your arms around his neck. when he pulls away, you mewl and tug him closer. he shushes you easily, "not going anywhere babydoll, i promise."

and he doesn't. he doesn't go anywhere, merely rolling you both onto your sides where he cradles you close, cupping the back of your head protectively as you burrow into him.

every now and then, he feels your shoulders tense up and quiver, as if you're fighting tears, but he doesn't make you say anything. not until you're ready to.

and when you are, he's there, his thumb gently stroking the back of your head while your tears soak into his shirt. he shushes you softly when your cries turn to sobs, or your breathing picks up too much for his comfort.

he reminds you he's not going anywhere, ever, he's got your back no matter what, and if it takes one day or fifteen, he's more than happy to stay in that bed, brush your teeth, feed you food, anything to keep you from drowning in your own anxieties and thoughts.

"thank you for telling me," he whispers every now and again. "im so proud of you."

"im so tired, atsumu... i don't know what to do anymore."

he screws his eyes shut as your voice cracks, "you're doing great, angel. keep doing what you're doing, because its your best, and its more than enough. and i'm sorry the world hasn't let you think it has been.

"you're more than enough. please keep going for me, okay?"

"okay..."

"I love you."

"I love you too atsu..."

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ladykailitha · 8 months ago

Text

The Harrington Pattern Part 12

Hey all, this story will wrap up today, so next week it will go back to just one chapter a day on Tuesdays and Thursdays and when Glitters wraps up, Sundays will go back to one a day as well.

A short chapter for the first of two, because this chapter got too long and needed to be cut down a tad and the next part fits better as a whole.

Eddie and Steve finally kiss and just giving Steve the loving crafting circle he needs.

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

****

Steve got to see where the cast ate their meals, where some of the cast stayed in large tents (for those that had traveled from out of state but couldn’t afford a hotel), he got to meet the people who sold the food to the tourists, and the people who cleaned up every night.

It was marvelous.

“So was the two events they were trying to schedule at the same time, the joust and your trick riding?” Steve asked after they left the cleaners.

Eddie grinned. “Close, the sword fighting and my trick riding. I told them that I would happily run over those bastards, but I didn’t think the horses would appreciate it.”

“I bet that got them to change their tune,” Steve said with a laugh.

“It sure did, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured.

Suddenly they found themselves utterly alone.

“Steve–” Eddie began, but Steve placed his fingers on his lips.

“Just wait,” he said softly. “There’s something I want to give you first.”

Eddie blinked at him. “You bought me a present?” he asked. Well technically he said, “Ym brut me apresemnt?” since Steve still had his fingers over his mouth.

Steve laughed and dug it out of his pocket. “It’s been on a little journey, one that nearly gave me a heart attack,” he murmured, “but Jeff was able to get it back to me in time.”

He handed the small pouch over to Eddie.

Eddie took it gingerly and rubbed it between his fingers as he looked at the small thing that Steve had made for him. But as small as the item itself was the giving of it, was massive.

“I remembered you telling me that your dice bag broke,” Steve mumbled, “and I really wanted to thank you for all your help this weekend. I don’t think I could of done it without you.”

Eddie looked up at Steve with glossy eyes. “It’s perfect, Stevie.”

“I plan on giving a bunch to Katie for her to sell while I make the bigger pieces,” Steve continued, “and Robin said that I should give the first one to you, because it’s special. And you deserve something really special, Eds. Because you’re special to me and I–”

Whatever else Steve was going to say got swallowed up by Eddie kissing him firmly on the lips.

He had just grabbed Steve by the face and locked their lips together.

Steve was stocked into stillness, but that didn’t last long as he pulled Eddie close to him and deepened the kiss.

Eddie let out a happy sigh as they parted for breath. “Wow, baby. You kiss like it might be your last.”

“Eh...” Steve said with a half shrug and a lopsided smile, “when you’ve faced more then one ends of the world, it very well could be.”

Eddie chuckled, pressing their heads together. “You’ve got me there, big boy.”

“Mhmm,” Steve said softly. “And I’ve got you here, too.” His arms tightened around Eddie’s waist, drawing them flush against each other.

Eddie swatted at him. “Sap.”

Steve kissed him again. “If I’m a sap, then you’re my tree.”

“That was corny even for you, honey,” he murmured, swatting at him at playfully.

Steve just laughed.

****

The end of the Renaissance Fair had come at last. There had been more then a few bumpy moments, but looking out at all the happy faces being lit up by fireworks, Steve was pleased with the results.

And next year was going to be even better, he had plans for helping the kids have quality costumes like Corroded Coffin boys had.

He might still have to do some altering instead of full on sewing all of the costumes, but he was really looking forward to it.

Katie had told him that he had several people offer her crazy money for the pouch he had accidentally dropped, so he promised her a dozen by the end of next week for her next Fair. In different sizes too.

Eddie had been the one to suggest that. Little coin purses, dice bags, and even handbag sized ones. Eddie was even going to help him find the right materials for it, ones that weren’t as expensive as the little dice bag Steve gave him.

Steve was really looking forward to it.

They hadn’t told the kids yet about their change in relationship. Not yet. They wanted to hold onto it for themselves a little longer.

Though, judging from the look that Will and Mike had sent him, Steve was pretty sure most of them had figured it out anyway.

So what started out with longing gazing into each others’ eyes, ended with holding hands under the cover of darkness as fireworks exploded overhead.

Steve had never been happier and he just knew more happiness was coming his way.

****

Steve was proven right when Claudia called him up the next morning.

“Good morning, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve murmured sleepily.

“I’m sorry, dear,” she said, “did I wake you?”

Steve looked blearily at the clock on the microwave. It was after ten in the morning.

“It’s fine,” he muttered, “I don’t usually sleep this late.”

“While that is certainly true,” Claudia agreed, “you also don’t normally spend three full days at a fair. Too much sun, too much fun, and too little sleep makes for a tired Steve. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks, Mrs. Henderson. Was there something you needed?”

“Oh, yes!” she said brightly. “Are you free this afternoon, from around two to four?”

Steve looked over at his calendar and squinted. “Looks like it, unless the nuggets call for rides to wherever.”

Claudia chuckled. “I think they’re going to be just as tired as you and not want to go anywhere today.”

He laughed. “Yeah, probably.”

“So, me and couple of the other moms have a sewing circle every Sunday,” she explained. “And we were all wondering if you wanted to come and join us. We have punch and little treats and spend two hours working on whatever project we have going on while we fill each other in on what’s happening in our lives.”

“You gossip,” Steve accused, teasingly.

She giggled. “Gossip is such tawdry word.”

“Like your every day language wouldn’t make a sailor blush,” Steve said dryly.

“And how would you know that?” she asked, curiosity coloring her tone.

“Ma’am, your son has the worst language I’ve ever seen on a teenager,” Steve said, “and I’m damn sure he didn’t get it from his dad. Even when he was alive.”

Claudia’s giggle turned into a full on laugh. “All right, you’ve got me there, Steve. So you’ll come?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Fantastic!” she cried. “We meet at Joyce’s this week.”

“This week?” Steve asked, already plotting what to bring as a treat and which project he wanted to start.

“Yes,” Claudia explained. “We rotate every week so that one person isn’t stuck hosting every time. And if you come often enough, we’ll have it your place once in a while, as well.”

Steve frowned appreciatively. “Sounds good. I’ll see you later then.”

Claudia squealed in excitement. “I can’t wait. We’re going to teach you how to use a sewing machine!”

That really piqued Steve’s interest. “Oh yeah?”

“It was Karen Wheeler’s idea,” she explained. “Karen doesn’t sew like the rest of us, but she does cross-stitch while we all chat. Apparently Mike was telling her about all the sewing you did for him and his friends and that it was all by hand.”

Steve nodded, forgetting she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, my parents thought sewing was for girls, so I learned by hand.”

“Make sure to bring some examples of your work,” she said. “I want to blow Olive Peterson’s mind. She’s of the same mind as your parents, even though what she does, the knitting, was originally only for men.”

“I have these pouches I’ve decided to make and sell,” Steve said with a grin, “so I can bring those to work on and bring some of the work I did for the kids to show off.”

“That’s brilliant!” Claudia said. “I see you later!”

Steve said goodbye and hung up.

This just might be the thing he needed.

****

Part 13

Don't quote me on the knitting originally being for men thing, it was something I learned when I read a 12 Dancing Princesses retelling years and years ago. The soldier in the story knitted to keep awake at night.

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @carlyv @gregre369

@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach

@danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

@useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss

@croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv

@dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter @cryptid-system CLOSED

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #steve is a history nerd

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writingsfromhome · 4 months ago

Text

The Golden Years

A/N: really liked this song the first time I heard it and decided to write something based off of it!!

——————————————

5 years ago:

The halls were noisy with the rush of the bell; the day had ended and everyone was eager to get home on the spring Friday. I sit in the music room with my guitar, strumming softly trying to get the tune out of my head.

The music room had the familiar woody smell, I never really knew if that was from the furnishing or all the instruments but I never got tired of it.

The only other people here are Thomas who’s napping after skipping his last class and the music teacher who’s setting up the class for next week’s lesson. He liked me and by extension allowed me to linger in his class after school. And sometimes let my mates stay hidden from hall monitors.

I wave goodbye to him as he finishes up, wishing him a good weekend. He just misses y/n walking in.

Y/n y/l/n. She moved down the road from me a couple years ago and she was always fascinating to me. She’d made friends her first few months here and stuck with them—those same friends hated my friends for various reasons but they always gave me an excuse to interact with her albeit in an annoying way.

Y/n was known to win out the lead for any play our school has put on. She had an infectious energy and I’d spent every moment she caught my eye gazing at her—not that I’d admit it if anyone ever asked.

She spots me and smiles, I remember to smile back at the last minute, shocked that she was acknowledging me with one. We hadn’t been nice to each other in a while; the circles we ran in loved to hate each other.

“Hey Harry,” she walks up to a nearby desk and perches there. “Whatcha working on today?”

I try to compose myself, “hey. Y/n. Uh I’m just trying something out. Something new.”

“Can I hear it?” She asks, her eyes alight with a genuine interest. It catches me off guard again.

“Really?”

“Yeah! I asked didn’t I?!”

“It’s really rough.”

“That’s okay,” she shrugs. She makes herself more comfortable.

“Really rough I-“

“Please?”

With a bat of her eyes I’m putty. I take in a deep breath—here goes nothing. Or if anything this would just be one more thing her friends could make fun of me for. Maybe that’s why she was here.

I strum her what I’d been working on for the last hour and hum along. She listens intently, her expression shifting and opening up as the chords change. Being me and nervous, I end it on the wrong note and nearly poke my eye out with the neck, making an awkward save as I set it down on my lap.

She sits quietly after the production, back straight and gazing out the window with a relaxed smile.

“I know you said that’s rough but that was amazing.” She says to me. “You’re actually bloody talented Harry.”

“Aw uhm well thanks,” I mumble. My cheeks feel on fire. I rarely played for people like this. If they were around while I worked on pieces that was alright but I’ve never had an audience of one.

“No really! You have a gift how long you working on?”

“The day.”

“The day!” She shouts and her enthusiasm makes me laugh. I don’t know why she was being so nice to me but it fills me with a buzzing joy. “You have such a way with your music like each strum is a new part of a story. It’s good! I can imagine it in a movie.”

I blush harder, “Thanks I um…I really enjoy it. Sometimes it’s easier to express myself with this than with…with like a conversation?”

She nods in understanding, “Y’know you should share your music. Start a channel or something online and post stuff! Like covers—people love covers-“

“I don’t really like to sing.”

“But I bet you’re good at it too?”

“Uhm nah I’m-“

“Don’t get shy on me now!” She nudges me and I swear I feel it linger even after she moves her hand away. “You’re such a tough jerk in the halls when you’re picking on my friends don’t go soft now.”

I laugh until I’m doubled over, part overjoyed and part embarassed because it was true. I don’t know why I was suddenly being shy.

“I’ve got to warm up my vocal cords,” I touch my throat once I’m done laughing. She grins. “I can’t sing right now.”

“I’ll hear it one day. I’m holding you to it.” She points a finger at me. “You should be performing this stuff.”

The idea of performing outside the walls of the music room felt both exciting and daunting. But the earnestness in y/n’s eyes give me a sense of courage.

"Maybe," I shrug. "I've never really thought about it.”

"Well, maybe it's time you did," she suggests gently. "Don't let your talents stay hidden."

“Yeah,” I smile. “Makes sense coming from you.”

“What’s that mean?” She raises a brow.

“Our year wouldn’t be blessed with all your productions, you’ve got natural talent too.”

“Yeah well,” now it’s her time to blush. “I really enjoy it.”

“I know.” I say. She catches my eye and a tender fondness passes between us.

“Anyway, I promised Clara I would braid her hair before her football match so I’ve got to go. But…it was nice talking Harry.”

I watch her go and I can’t wipe the dopey smile off my face the rest of the weekend.

5 years later:

I didn’t think I would see her here. After all, she lived across the pond these days and had rsvp’d as a maybe.

But there she stands with the same group of friends that surrounded her even back then. They’re all a little older, grown into people their secondary selves could only imagine becoming. But even now, they’re faceless next to her; she commands all my attention.

She looks stunning in a simple blue bridesmaid dress and her hair grown down in waves. The wind lifts her hair and she looks as majestic as the first day my eyes landed on her. As radiant as every day I’d been with her afterwards. She was golden sunshine and every minute I got to spend with her had been golden too.

Four years since I last saw her. Those four years had gone by in the blink of an eye; it had been fun ‘til it hurt.

I feel a surge of emotions—longing, regret, and the tiniest speck of hope. They compete for dominance as I indulge studying her for a moment longer and just as I look away her head lifts, catching my gaze for the briefest second.

My heart races.

I turn and wander to where my mates pass a football around. Just like we used to. Some things never changed.

Some things did.

“You see her yet?” Thomas asks.

“D’you not see the look in his eye?” Abe, his twin brother, asks.

“Yeah I saw her,” I interrupt before they wheedle me for how I looked. I could imagine it, the regret and sorrow etched into my face. “It’s been four years I’ve already told you lot I’m over it.”

My friends glance at each other.

“I am.” I insist.

“The lady doth protest—ow!” Ramo rubs his chest where I’d tossed the football.

“Where’d this even come from?” I nod to the football.

They shrug, “Some kid had it. We stole it from him.”

I sigh and look around the space. One of our best mates from secondary was getting married to Hailey, one of Y/N’s mates. That’s why half of our class was here a short walk from where we all went to school.

The reception should have started a half hour ago but the couple were stuck in traffic. Apparently. So all the guests have been entertaining ourselves and that meant stealing footballs from children.

“What happened to that lady you were supposed to bring along?” Abe asks.

“Lady?” I ask.

“Yeah wasn’t she a few years older than you?”

I repress the urge to sigh, the same as when we were school boys these friends never stopped teasing each other. Of course I also did my fair share but the trick was to never let them know it cut too deep.

“We ended things a while ago,” I say as if it doesn’t poke at an old wound to say.

A while ago was two weeks ago when she found out my ex would be at the wedding and I had sent a text to the best man clarifying if she would be there. She had seen the message and gone batshit, talking about trust and about being emotionally closed off. It was hours of arguing into the night before she’d left home. We’d broken up the next day.

The old wound was feeling like I was never going to find love like I did with her. With Y/N. Every relationship I’d had since crashed and burned worse than a Nascar vehicle with faulty mechanics.

If I would've known those were the golden years, I would have done things so differently.

But for the last two weeks instead of pathetically staring at pictures with my ex and wondering if I should call her to make up, I was pathetically looking at the polaroids of Y/N and I that I kept in an old box. I wondered what happened to the ones she had, if they had gone up in flames or if they lived in a shoebox under her bed.

My attention’s snagged by the boys elbowing each other and glancing at me and then behind me. I turn just in time for y/n and a couple of her friends to walk up to us.

I try to play it cool but I don’t know how I look; probably like a deer in headlights, and y/n is the bright stark headlights.

But her eyes slide off of me and onto the group and it feels like I’ve become the deer after the headlights have blinked out of sight.

“If it isn’t the poor four,” one of y/n’s friend uses our nickname from school. “And who’s this?”

“Dinis,” Dinis puts the football down and extends his hand to Clara. We watch them flirt.

“Didn’t you know Dinis in college?” Abe asks.

“Clara moved away in college,” y/n says smiling at the interaction happening in front of us. “Obviously she hasn’t felt the Dinis-effect yet.”

Her friend and her laugh.

“Oi Y/N haven’t seen you in a minute how’s the Angel City?” Ramo asks.

“You mean the city of angels?” Y/n raises a brow and the group laughs again. I’m too mesmerized watching her talk, seeing her alive and in person in front of me to catch the joke in time so I smile along with the group. “It’s cool, always something to do. But I don’t actually live there anymore I moved out of the city last year. Get some breathing room.”

My heart skips a beat. “I heard the city’s as rammed as ours.”

I anticipate her attention, us locking eyes, something passing between. When our eyes do meet I feel a rush of familiarity and uncertainty.

And she simply glances like I’m just another bloke to her, nods, and the looks back at the group. “Yeah sometimes even worse if you can believe.”

Someone else asks another question but my head is filled with a loud buzz. Reality feels like it crushes me down as easy as an aluminum can; I was spared a glance. She spared me a glance. That’s all I was to her?

“Where d’you think the newlyweds are?” Clara asks.

“Traffic,” Abe rolls his eyes.

“Think fast,” Thomas suddenly shouts and the football is whizzing past me towards Clara. We watch in horror as it hits her with a thwack in the chest.

“What the fuck Thomas!” Clara holds her hands out as she stares at the dirt staining her blue dress. “What the-“

“That’ll come off,” Clara’s friends assure her. “It’s not mud don’t-“

“Here,” suddenly Denis is beside her and holding out his hand. “I’ll help you clean it off.”

“What the hell mate?” I look at Thomas. He’s flushed and looking scared. I’m too busy looking at him to notice Clara’s pitched the ball back at him and it hits him in the side of the head, knocking some sense back into him.

“Nice one.” Someone mutters.

“I’m sorry!” He finally finds his voice as Clara walks away with Dinis.

“You’ve got shite all over your hair,” Abe points out to his brother.

“I’m outta here before I’m next,” y/n’s other friends starts to back away to the group they were in previously.

“Where?!” Thomas starts rubbing it off which only spreads it further into gelled hair.

“Let’s go,” Abe hauls his brother away with an arm locked around his neck, tussling the dirt in his hair as they go.

“So…” Ramo looks between y/n and me, scratching the back of his head. “That was crazy. I should return this ball to…”

He trails off, walking away from the two of us. Which wouldn’t have been as awkward except he just left a cloud of awkward in his stead.

“Y/N,” I say softly like I was approaching a feral pup.

“Harry,” she replies, her tone polite yet distant, a subtle barrier between us.

“I don’t think they’ve changed much,” I act like I wasn’t aware of everything unspoken.

She smiles politely. “Nope. Just as boyish as the day we all met.”

“That wasn’t our proudest moment-“

“Yeah you boys thought you could beat us girls at British bulldog.”

“Little did we know,” I shake my head. We’d been badly beaten and battered by the girls’ team. We didn’t take to losing very well back then.

“If only we knew then what we know now.”

I look over at y/n; it felt like she was saying one thing but meant something else. Something that sounded close to reminiscing about us.

But with how she was acting it made me feel like I’d made us up. Was it never that serious for her?

“Wouldn’t have fucked up so much?” I ask.

“Yeah something like that,” her lips tip into a half smile. She still hasn’t looked me in the eye for more than a second. I missed those eyes. I missed the way they used to look at me.

“How’s the acting?” I ask. I wait for her to look at me, acknowledge me more than she did. Wait to see if alone together there would be more meaning in the looks we exchange but she stays facing forward.

“It’s slow right now. I haven’t been booking much this season which is why I was able to make it to this.”

“Sorry to hear that,” look at me I want to say instead.

She shrugs. “It happens. Slow seasons then you find yourself booked back to back and burnt out. Nature of the biz as they say.”

“Very LA.”

We go quiet and I feel my heart explode at the distance she was keeping; I can sense her guardedness.

"I've missed you," I confess quietly, unable to hold back the truth any longer. "I think about you often."

Her gaze softens, a fleeting vulnerability crossing her features before it hardens into something stonier.

"It’s been four years," she notes in an even voice. “Surely you’ve moved on Harry. Don’t try to flatter me now.”

I don’t think I had moved on, I think with a sinking heart. I hoped tonight would be a night of reconnecting and exploring if there was anything left of us in the future. But it seemed that y/n had made up her mind about what her future was going to be long before this.

“Oh look Clara’s back,” she spots her friend walking back towards us. Dinis is nowhere in sight but she’s splotchy and windswept.

“I’m going to literally kill that prick. I’ve got a wet spot on my front like I’m still bloody breastfeeding or something.”

“It’ll dry up,” y/n pats her friend’s dress. “It’s sunny out don’t worry.”

“It better by the time we do photos.”

It’s like I’m not even there. They continue talking and slowly turn to walk back to their other friends.

“Nice talk,” I call out.

Clara’s still too busy ranting but y/n glances at me. Her smile is a reflex as she waves, unengaged and apathetic.

I feel a jab in my chest, I don’t know what to think. The last four years I’ve been so afraid I’d let go of the best thing. That I’d never find a love like hers. Meanwhile she’s moved on so much that I wasn’t even an ex any longer. I was just someone she knew in grade school. That hurts. It feels like lava dripping over my chest.

“Y’alright?” Ramo reappears at my side. He looks genuinely concerned.

“Yeah!” I put on a smile I don’t even feel. “Just wondering when this party’s getting bloody started.”

I feel Ramo’s eyes on me as I walk towards another drink but he doesn’t say anything more.

***

I sit with my arm around Y/n and her head rests on my shoulder. Sometimes the quiet moments we existed in beat out the others. They fed my heart and heightened every sense of mine.

“I wrote something,” I whisper into her hair. She turns her head to look up at me and I gently pull away. “A song…for you.”

“For me?” Y/n’s eyes are alight with shock and something else. “You wrote a song for me?”

My heart pounds as I confirm with a nod. “I’m halfway done but I wanted you to hear it.”

“Well go on,” she sits up and angles herself towards me. “I want to hear it!”

I pull my guitar case closer to me and open the familiar snaps, pulling the instrument out and close to me with shaky hands. Y/N watches with an excited attentiveness.

I began the melody that started as a few chords in my head the first time Y/N and I kissed under this tree and has continued to build for the 4 weeks since. This tree felt like it witnessed so much of the 5 weeks we’ve officially been together and I wanted to write an ode to it as much as y/n.

I couldn’t believe it was only 5 weeks but after a summer and a whole semester of flirting and hanging out I’d finally asked her out at the end of January. It was now March and Y/n had gotten her acceptance letter from across the ocean. She had told me last week with nervous hands and I wanted her to know we would always have this thing between us no matter what decision she made.

Y/n smiles as I begin but her eyes grow misty as I finish my final lines I had so far.

"And under the cherry tree, where love and laughter will always be," I sing softly, my voice cracking with emotion. "I'll cherish all these memories, even when you're not beside me."

“Oh Har,” she tips forward and I catch her against my chest, her head buried in my neck. “I can’t imagine living so far from you. Leaving you and everyone behind.”

“It’s the adventure you’ve been waiting for,” I reassure her. “You��re gonna make it big.”

“I don’t know if it’s worth it,” she whispers.

I pry her away gentle so she can look me in the face. I want to selfishly tell her to stay and never leave me. But even more than that I want her to do what she has always been passionate about, what she loves to do.

Love.

I love her, I realize with a clarity that cut so deep it tumbles out of my mouth.

“I love you,” I say. She freezes in my arms and I fumble to continue. “And I want you to live the life you always imagined. You’re destined for amazing things y/n I know it. I’ll always be here.”

“Will you?”

“Of course,” I kiss her on her temple and ignore that she didn’t say it back. That I said it too soon damnit we’d only been dating a month. What was wrong with me?

“I think you need to share your talent with the world,” she reminds me.

“That’s why I joined the talent show with you.” It was y/n’s idea, a final hurrah before we graduate and to prove to myself that I could get over my performance anxiety.

“We’re gonna crush it.”

I nod, the lump in my throat grows too big for words. She seems to sense it like she always does and pulls me into her this time.

It would take her a week to whisper the three words back to me, in the darkened corner of a house party right before she leads me home. It was a long week but so worth it.

***

The next time I catch y/n alone is when I’m talking to Hailey who’s thanking me for the few words I gave for her now husband Michael. The husband in question was doing the Macarena and Hailey was the sort to never be caught dead doing that sort of thing.

That’s why the couple never made sense to either group of friends. Yet they were the ones with a ring on their finger this many years later.

“Hailey oh-“ y/n is tipsy, I can tell with the sheen to her eye and the permanent half-smile etched into her lips. “Sorry didn’t realize-“

“That’s alright!” Hailey wraps her arm around y/n. “This girl is the best. She literally hopped on a last minute flight to be here! Can you believe that? I was crushed when she said maybe but ugh she always swoops in last minute saves the day. That’s always been her, back in the day during one of our school dances right, I got caught with…”

Y/n and I lock eyes as the bride babbles on and there. Finally there. The passing look of two people who know what the other is thinking without a single word.

She seems to catch herself and after an intense few seconds and a small smile she composes her face into an unengaged one and jostles Hailey.

“Hailey Harry doesn’t care! I just wanted to get a photo with you and Mik-“

“He’s too bloody busy doing cringe dances-“

“He’s actually having a drink looking for you now but look at this.”

“What?” Hailey’s head swivels around the room as y/n presents her phone with the groom doing a very serious macarena.

“And they say gen z get all the cringe dances,” I comment. Y/n snorts and then covers her mouth, her laugh falling away into a composed expression.

“You know you don’t have to do that,” I say before I can think. A part of me was getting desperate and a little irritated and another felt heartbroken all over again.

“Do what?” She asks as Hailey prances away from us when she spots Michael.

“Be all serious and composed around me. If I’m funny just laugh. My ego could use a lift.”

She stares with a tight lip and cautious eyes.

“You used to laugh the most at my jokes,” I say a bit softer. “Made me feel like the funniest bloke in the room.”

Her eyes lose a bit of their edge but her mouth is still hard-set and a wrinkle forms between her brows. That was new.

“I-I’ve gotta go.” She says. “Gotta get the picture.”

“Right,” I shove my hands in my pockets and watch her go back to the married couple. Right before she reaches them she turns slightly. When she finds me still watching, she jerks back around.

Hope siphons into my chest.

***

“This is the best song!” Abe shouts in my ear as he and the remaining wedding guests belt out Sweet Caroline.

It was late into the wedding party. Much of the older invitees had gone home and kids with their footballs were probably tucked into bed. What remained were Hailey and Michael’s school friends and a few stragglers that were too drunk to want to go home.

“Final song,” the DJ announces. “Time of my Life.”

All night I had been stealing glances at y/n waiting to see if she would come to me. Reciprocate even an ounce of anything I felt. But she hadn’t. She’d gone out of her way to avoid me even when we’d bumped into each other outside the toilets. She’d simply brushed past with a mumble of something I couldn’t make out.

I think what I said to her made her angrier. The anger, and the cold shoulder was new. It makes me feel small.

But I’d had enough drinks by now to feel confident. Enough to walk to where she dances with some friends.

“Y/n.”

She startles and plays it off with a laugh. “What d’you want?”

I motion my head to the side. To talk.

Hesitation makes her eyes weary but she follows after a moment.

Everyone around us sings along to the song. The irony isn’t lost on me.

“What?” She asks.

I stare at her openly, she allows me as she searches my face herself. I grasp at something to start this off with but I’ve had a few drinks myself.

“I used to think you were completely out of my league,” what comes out is a random thought in the speech I’d built up in my head throughout the night.

Her nose wrinkles, “what are you on about Harry?”

“Don’t do that,” I clutch my shirt. “Don’t act like we’re strangers, like we didn’t have something together.”

Her smile falls away, “we had something…like four five years ago. That’s…that’s ages ago Harry. Tell me you’re not still hung up on it?”

Her voice cuts right through me but it’s her gaze that doesn’t quite look at me that gives her away.

“Look me in the eye and tell me I mean nothing to you now,” I cut through the bullshit. It might have been the realization that I’d stayed hung up on this woman for years, sabotaged my love life on the idea I’d find nothing like what we had. And she stood here in front of me now undermining what we had. Making me feel crazy.

She looks me in the eyes, the eyes that haunted me in my dreams.

“I…it was a long time ago Harry.”

“Then why’ve you been avoiding me all night?”

“I haven’t. We’re talking now?”

“So I’m nothing to you?” I ask, hearing the hurt and wishing I didn’t sound so desperate.

“Look. We were young and free and what we had back then doesn’t actually translate to much when you look back as adults.”

“Is that what you tell yourself? So you can freeze away your feelings for what we had?”

She gapes, then turns away with her arms wrapped around herself like the freezing caught up.

“I don’t know what you want.” She finally says.

“I just…” what did I want? “I want to know if you ever think about us. If you have any regrets…if…”

She sighs, “Of course you cross my mind from time to time. But I wouldn’t have regrets. I can see why someone would have regrets, however, after they just let someone they called the love of their life go. Especially when she needed him the most.”

There it was. Her hot anger.

“When you needed…”

“Yeah!” She barely glances at me. “I was scared of leaving and losing you and being alone and all the unknown things. And you left me. You just…said goodbye to us.”

Woah.

Her eyes prick with tears and she turns back to the dancing crowd. The song was winding down and the venue being cleared. I feel the opportunity pass through my fingers.

If I would have known, I would have held her longer. I would never have left her alone. Especially when she needed me the most.

“Y/n,” in a desperate move I grab for her arm and turn her back around. Her lashes are lined with tears, her mouth open in an “o” as she looks up at me. My eyes can’t help themselves as they flicker down to them. This was the closest I came to holding her like before. Her eyes do the same and I feel my heart racing in my chest.

“I’m sorry,” I croak. “For what it’s worth.”

“It’s not worth much,” she says through a watery smile. Trying not to cry; trying to stay composed.

“I’m still in l-“

“Stop,” she puts her hand on top of mind and gently nudges it off her arm. She shakes her head and her hair falls gently to cover her face. “I can’t do this right now Harry. I travelled all this way to celebrate our best friends. But the distance between us was for a reason.”

“It’s been years-“

“Doesn’t change how you left me after I gave you my whole heart. Or the fact that that we ended.”

“I truly an sorry,” I say to her retreating figure.

The shame I feel courses through my body; I couldn’t have known better back then. I was young and stupid and I didn’t realize these types of decisions weren’t to be made lightly. That their repercussions would echo for the rest of my life.

I left her under the cherry tree in the courtyard of the school we’d graduated from. It was late June and it haunted my memories since.

—

Under the skyward branches of the blushing cherry tree, a solemn silence hung in the air. It was the last day of our final year, and emotions swirled between us like the spring breeze.

Y/N stood with her back against the tree trunk, her yearbook clasped tightly to her chest, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. I stood before her, my hands nervously clenched in my pockets, heart heavy with the weight of impending decision.

"I can't believe it's over," y/n murmured, her voice cracking with emotion as she meets my eyes. "Four years went by so fast."

I nod, unable to maintain eye contact. It wasn’t school ending that was making us this sad but what would come of us as I would attend school in the country and y/n out.

This decision weighed heavily on my mind ever since I learned y/n was attending ucla across the ocean—a decision she had made long before we acknowledged our feelings for each other. Now facing the idea of long-distance, I couldn’t shake the fear that everything was changing and things would be different in an unknowable way.

"Yeah," I manage to reply. My voice comes out hoarse, my throat tight with tears I was pushing down. “I'm going to miss this... miss us I…”

Her lower lip trembles, emotions ripple across her features. “Harry god I’m gonna miss us, you…just getting to be together everyday!”

I scrub at my eyes, not wanting to cry right now. She notices and wipes them for me. “You've been my rock through everything this last year."

I take a step towards her, closer. She was the sun and I wanted to bask in her glow, always. Except today wasn’t a bright day, my heart breaks at the sight of the tears streaking her cheeks. “Y/N I…” I try to find the right words but they fail me again. In the meantime a hundred chords play through my mind, deepening the grief I felt.

Suddenly a surge of panic grips me, my blood turns cold like it usually did when I thought about her leaving me. When I consider the depth of what this meant.

Deep down I couldn’t bear the thought of losing y/n but at the same time the unknown was playing at my fears, my anxiety. Imagine a future where she’s thousands of miles away. Everyone I know who talks about long-distance always gets their heart broken…distance never makes relationships stronger.

What if, I think, what if I just rip the bandaid off.

Wouldn’t that be the merciful thing to do? Instead of continuing to a point of no return. I mean what if we try long-distance, y/n creates a life in America, and realizes I was holding her back? What if we end up hating each other?

My brow feels slick and my heart pounds away. I clear my throat.

“I love you y/n.” I tuck her hair behind her ear.

“I love you too,” she whispers.

“After this summer, after you leave-“

“We don’t have to talk about this right now let’s just enjoy now and-“

“How can we?” I finally break. “How can we enjoy now when we know there’s an expiry date to all this!”

“Harry,” y/n grabs my hands. Attempts to soothe my anxiety but I’d passed the point of no return. The words continue to tumble out.

“What if…maybe it’s for the best if we…if we let go now.”

“What?” Shock colours y/n’s face and her eyes fill with tears. “What are you saying Har?”

“I don't want us to... to hurt each other trying to make this work.”

Her mouth hangs open and I can see her heart breaking in front of me. It kills me inside.

“But Har,” her voice grows desperate. “We talked about…we could…we’ll make it work-“

“Y/n,” now my own grows desperate. I wanted to stop talking about this, now that I’d made the decision to let go I wanted to just cut this loose and run away. “We’ll only hurt more.”

Her lower lip trembles and tears coat her bottom lash as she looks up at me through her top lashes. She whispers, “This isn’t fair.”

“I know,” I hang my head. “I’m sorry.”

And I was. I didn’t want to be the one to break us up but what choice did I have? I was doing it as the best case scenario.

Tears spill down y/n’s face and her voice is barely audible over the rustling of the cherry tree, “b-but I love you.”

I close my eyes for a brief moment, the sway of the leaves now roaring in my ears. Or maybe that was just the blood rushing to my face. I feel my heart turn to dust and my entire body aches as the weight of the decision coats me. “I love you too y/n. I love you now and always.”

I clasp her hand and squeeze it. She squeezes back, a sob pulled forth by the contact.

“Y/n…maybe this is how we say goodbye. On our own terms. With space to…to heal.”

Y/n cries harder and I pull her in, tucking her into me because she fit so perfectly in my contours. A part of me couldn’t believe I was doing this, I always imagined our goodbye at a Heathrow terminal under bright lights and linoleum floors.

We both cry into each other but I pull away first, I had to be the stronger one.

“I wish you nothing but the best,” I cup her face. “I…”

I didn’t know how to translate the dust of my heart. I kiss her one last time and then again on her forehead.

With that, I turn away unable to stand in the heartbreak. Every step away from her and the cherry tree feels impossible but I walk away from the girl who was my everything, feeling torn between the love I had for her and the fear of what the future would bring.

—

All I’d been thinking about was myself. About how I’d had friends who tried long distance and how their ending was more brutal than ripping the bandaid off from the get go.

That summer we avoided each other at parties, at our local haunts, and on the day she left I watched her car pull away from my bedroom window and leave forever with a leaden feeling in my heart. That I’d made a big mistake, too big to ever fix.

Tonight was the night I was supposed to set thing right. But things were just getting worse.

***

“After party!” Abe wraps his drunken arm around my shoulder. By then I’d sobered up with a quiet moment off to the side, smoking even though I’d tried to quit ten times in the last month. “I thought you quit that you cheeky bugger!”

“I’m going to,” I squish the cigarette against the wall. “You said after party?”

“After party!!” Ramo hollers coming up from behind. I take in the scene before me, the string lights were having their power cut, most of the tables were wiped clear of cutlery and tablecloths. Just like that the magical night Hailey and Micheal had been planning for months was over. Now they had their whole lives in front of them.

“Har?” Someone snaps a finger in front of my face.

“Huh?”

“Where’d you go?” A group had gathered in front of me, a mix of groomsmen and bridesmaid. Y/n isn’t one of them.

“What?” I ask again. “What’s this about an after party?”

“The party isn’t done,” someone replies.

“Please?!” I hear someone else say off to the side. Now that the music had also turned off it had gotten quieter in the venue.

I turn to the other conversation and see Hailey tugging y/n’s arms, trying to convince her of something. And just like that y/n’s eyes meet mine and something like resignation passes through them.

“-you in?” Michael claps my back and I’m jolted back to the crowd in front of me.

“Yeah,” I assumed they asked me about this after party. “Let’s keep the party going!”

Whooping ensures and everyone trickles out into the parking lot.

“Where is this again?” I ask whoever was closest to me.

“Schoolyard?” Clara answers. “If we don’t get kicked out for loitering that is.”

“We’ll just have to be quiet.”

Clara side eyes me and realizes I’m joking. She huffs a laugh. “It’s like hoping for your 1 year old to go to bed without a tantrum.”

“That’s right,” I suddenly remember. “You had a baby last year. Congrats on that Clara.”

She laughs again, “You’re sweet Harry. Thanks. It’s been a hell of a year but I’m a glutton for punishment because all I can think of is skipping the after party to bury my face in my daughter’s. She’s probably asleep though. I’d wake her up.”

I imagine Clara with her daughter, she was always mothering her friends when I’d hang out with y/n in school. “I can see you being a wonderful mum. Your daughter probably adores you.”

“Not as much as I adore her,” Clara sighs. I chuckle and another laugh comes from the other side of me. I startle to see y/n walking beside me.

How long had she been there? Our eyes meet and the smile she sends me is sweet and innocent. Like that day in school long ago when she walked in on me tinkering away on my guitar and asked me to play something for her.

It throws me off just like it did then. I turn away.

“We’re just gonna walk there!” Someone ahead of us shouts back to the group.

“In these heels?” Someone complains.

“The girls can take a car?” Hailey suggests. So some of the bridesmaids pile into one but Clara and y/n stay with Hailey.

“I’m sensible now,” Clara stretches her heel-less foot out. “Y/n you sure you don’t want the ride?”

“I’ve been dancing without these for the last two hours.” Y/n shrugs. “My feet can handle the walk.”

“Are we betting how long it takes to get kicked out?” I ask the remainder of the crew.

Bets start flying, I bet 40 minutes.

“D’you think the cherry tree is still there? That was probably the loveliest bit of our school every spring.” Clara asks. “I haven’t been back in ages.”

“Yeah!” Hailey pipes in. “We did some of our photos there when we did save the dates. We ended up using the ones at the garden though.”

I glance at y/n, I can’t help it. She has the same idea because she looks at me too. I didn’t understand what was happening tonight. I’d nearly given up on reconciling but here she was suddenly giving me softened looks, her hard edges dulling down enough for me to bump into her shoulder and try joking.

“Don’t get any ideas.”

“What?” She balks. “Ideas?!”

“Hey Har,” Hailey turns to me. “D’you still play? That guitar remembers guys? He was always playing that thing.”

I avoid y/n’s gaze now.

“Not really.”

“Harry’s a tight-ass finance bloke now,” Ramo says for me. “That creative spirit died after he and a little somebody-“

“I’m not,” I cut Ramo off knowing he was going to say something that would make all of us awkward. I continue to avoid y/n’s attention. “A tight-ass finance bloke. I like to think I’m a fine-ass finance bloke. And it’s because I just don’t get the time these days.”

“You were so good,” comes y/n’s thoughtful commentary.

“He was wasn’t he?!” Hailey continues. “Thought I’d see you on TV or something. That show with the contestants? I always thought if anyone from school went on there it’d be Harry.”

“Thanks Hailey,” I’m uncomfortable under everyone’s scrutiny. And the way Abe keeps wriggling his eyebrows at me and tilting his head to y/n.

By now we’ve reached the school grounds and watch as the rest of the girls scramble out of the car. I spot the cherry tree on the far side, no longer in bloom and smaller than I remember.

There’s a buzz about the group, like being together all these years later in the schoolyard brings with it some life-changing magic. Like time’s worn thin tonight and we can almost reach out and touch our school selves.

“Hailey and Michael!!” Ramo shouts incredibly loud. My 40 minute bet shrinks to 20. “Official Mr. And Mrs!! Let’s fucking go!!!”

They all take off down the field, open bottles dangling from their hands, jackets and gowns flying in the wind as they go.

I take off after them, laughing as a bubble of relief flows up from my lungs. It was just like before, running across the school field with my mates, laughing and shouting random shite into the world.

I glance to my side and y/n’s pumping her legs but falling behind the group. I hold out my hand without thinking but she comes to a full stop. So do I.

“These fucking heels.” She peels them off and sighs in relief, tossing them to the side and taking a swig of her wine bottle.

“You might need those later.”

“Fuck those heels!” She shouts louder.

I laugh and hold out my hand, “We’re falling behind. C’mon!”

She grabs it and we run to catch up, and I’m grinning so hard I feel like my cheeks are going to split. This might be an illusion of a moment I could only dream of but I didn’t care. Despite the night sky and nippy air, everything was sunny and golden.

The finish line was the cherry tree at the end of the yard and our friends pile around it, out of breath.

“Jesus I’ve got stitches,” Clara complains. “I’m never doing that again.”

Hailey giggles and wraps her arms around her husband. “I love all of you so much. Thanks for making this day so special.”

We all pour our love back to the couple. Alcohol and conversation begins to flow around the group and eventually I find y/n sitting beside me tugging at the grass.

“So you really don’t play anymore?” She asks softly after a while.

Her eyes are round and inquisitive as she asks, and I could drown in them. I think of everything I could tell her about not playing—how it made me think of her, how it hurt too much to play after a while, how that part of me was dead and I didn’t like to dredge it up anymore.

Instead I shake my head and leave it hanging, staring down into my lap.

“Why?” She whispers, edging closer to me so that our knees nearly touch. I wonder if she notices or if it even matters.

Again I think of all the reasons and my eyes fill with tears as I do. I’d shut away so much of myself because I had too much love for y/n that couldn’t go anywhere. I’d shut the love away and myself as well.

She taps my knee and I look up, her eyebrows scrunch together when she notices the tears.

“You were supposed to do big things with that guitar of yours,” she whispers to me. And it sounds exactly like something she would have said to me all those years ago. It’s too much. I take the bottle of wine sitting beside her and take a swig. She watches me with concern.

“Music,” I clear my throat when my voice comes out hoarse. “Music didn’t really hold the same magic afterwards. After we…I stopped…speaking in it.”

“Well fuck. That makes me really sad.”

“It’s alright—numbers became my new language.”

“How depressing!”

I laugh and cut myself short when it nearly turns into a sob.

I was sitting with y/n after all these years, under the cherry tree, and she was farther away than ever.

“I’m sorry,” I say again. “For being a chicken. Leaving before you left me. Then I just watched you go.”

Y/n opens her mouth and closes it after a second. Voices from the group drift over to us, Michael discussing honeymoon plans, Clara showing Dinis photos of her daughter, someone talking about a teacher we all hated.

“That was really sweet what you said to Clara earlier,” y/n says. It’s so random it takes me a second to recall.

“Oh yeah. Well she was always fussing over your friends like a mum. At least whenever I hung out with all of you.”

“She did. Makes sense she’s the first of us to be a mum. Although it wasn’t really planned—I’m really glad it turned out like this for her in the end.”

I nod, unsure where this was going.

“Har I-“ y/n’s voice sticks and she quiets again. It kills me to wait instead of telling her to spit it out.

“Y/n,” I say gently when she presses her lips together and doesn’t speak. I nudge her knee this time. “What?”

Our eyes meet and a galaxy of things rush between us. Memories, like distant stars, flicker with joy and pain. We’re caught between them—caught in the gravitational pull of the past and the very solid present of each other.

“I…I was hurting so bad after. After you said-after we broke up. I forgot you were probably hurting too. That the hurt could have always lingered too.” Y/n admits.

I forget to breathe as a constellation of emotions pools in our eyes, an ache from the unspoken admission that maybe we had missed each other all of this time.

“We were so young,” y/n continues. She picks at the grass. I imagine it helps feel in controls amidst the emotional storm happening between us.

“We were.”

“So free,” she laughs a little.

“Yeah. Too free. I don’t think I realized what I wanted until it was too late.”

“You had the whole summer,” the soft accusation cuts deep. I feel the gravity of how much it affected her.

“I was so scared of the hurt I…”

“Yet we hurt anyway.”

Those four words suck the oxygen out of my lungs, I couldn’t respond even if I wanted to.

We sit in another silence, I think about the version of us that didn’t leave the cherry tree separately. The version that kept holding on.

Maybe there could be a version of us that comes back to the cherry tree and leaves together this time. That thought spurs me into action.

I stand and brush the grass off my pants. Y/n watches me with a confused expression.

I hold my hand out to her for the second time that evening.

“Dance with me under the cherry tree?”

She flushes as our friends quiet down. But she grips my hand and I pull her up towards me.

“Really?” She whispers.

“Where’s the music?” One of our friends asks and as we begin our slow dance a phone breaks out in a slow number. It makes y/n giggle.

“This is incredibly cheesy.”

“Just embrace it.” I tell her. “The last time we were here-“

“We don’t have to keep talking about it,” she looks up at me. “It was so long ago. We can’t change the past. We really were young and we just have to-“

“Y/n,” I cut her off. “We were young but our love was real.”

This leaves her speechless. She simply furrows her brows and blinks away whatever emotion it pulls forth. And with her arms locked tightly behind me and my arms on her waist, we continue to sway. A quiet yearning defying time and distance fills the space between us; even as I pull her flush against me and she buries her face in my neck.

“That’s more like it,” I can hear Abe say in the back with a whistle before everyone laughs and goes back to chattering.

“So,” y/n says softly after a while. “When I blew you off at the wedding you were going to say something.”

I hardly remember. I was going to say a lot and I was probably a few drinks in.

“I lied.” She continues. “I tried to forget about you. I held onto the anger so I wouldn’t hurt when I thought about you. Then I looked you up every once in a while expecting some musical thing attached to your name but I never did see anything—now I know why.”

“Yeah,” I chuckle.

“So you really stopped after we broke up?”

“Yes,” I say again. “I tried that summer but everything sounded like…like a donkey trying to sing. I gave up on it ever sounding good again.”

“That’s a shame Harry,” she says and I know she means it but I don’t want to focus on me.

“So you looked me up did you?”

“Don’t start on that,” she flushes. I drop it but not the smile on my face. She notices and buries her face into my shoulder.

We continue swaying to whatever song was queued on our friends’ phone. It feels like we’re all 17 again and staying up later than our parents would like. It felt like we were all young and free, not 20-somethings sitting around our married friends.

“I can’t believe we’re all back here again.” I comment.

“I know. Feels fake. Especially being back here, with you.”

“I hope this is alright?” I pause but y/n tightens her grip.

“It is. Y’know no matter how many people filled the space after you.” Y/n says. “It was never you.”

My breath catches. Was she saying-

“Incoming!” Someone shouts and before I can ask where the group erupts in chaos. People run every way I’m surprised nobody bumps heads.

“What!?” I say just as a flashlight beam cuts across my face. The police. “Oh fuck! Let’s go!”

I grab y/n’s hand and we run away from whatever authority was stalking towards us with flashlights.

It’s just like the old days.

“Harry!” I hear Thomas yell up ahead and I veer to the right towards it.

“Ow! Shit!” I hear y/n shout behind me before she releases my hand.

“What? What are you doing?!” I rush back to her.

She’s picking a rock out of her foot, behind her the lights grow closer.

“Those fucking heels!” I shout.

“Bad decision!” She tosses another pebble off her foot.

“No time! Get on!”

“What?” She freezes but I turn around and crouch, tugging her arms around me so she can get the hint. She loops her legs around my waist and even though I’m slowed down we somehow make it, laughing and stumbling, towards Thomas and Abe. They wave at us from just beyond the school ground and once we make it in the clear we head back to the venue and our parked cars.

“That was insane,” they gush.

“Felt like the golden years,” I grin.

“The fucking golden years,” they laugh.

“Okay designated drivers,” Michael says when he catches sight of us. “We have to get out of here.”

There’s a final round of bidding the newlyweds adieu and waving them off. I look for y/n once they blink out of sight.

“I came with Jamie,” she wraps her arms around herself.

I take my jacket off and drape it around her. I’m transported to doing the exact same thing after house parties because y/n would complain that a jacket would ruin her outfit and then walk home shivering.

“What if you go home with someone else?” I ask.

“You’ve got a car?”

“No,” I regret not driving myself now. “I came with one of the boys.”

“Shite.”

“Yeah…”

“Where are you staying?” She asks.

“Uhm…I came from my flat. Near Shoreditch.”

“Oh right.” She looks away. “You live in the city…right. I’m staying at my mum’s.”

“That’s not too far. My parents still live down the road from yours.”

“I know,” she smiles. “What if you dropped me home? And I invite you in?”

“Y/n,” I tug her closer. “What’s this you’re suggesting?”

“Staying?”

The sight of her, the feel of her, her scent and her perfect hand on my chest envelop me. I couldn’t say no; I was under her spell.

“That would turn this amazing evening into an amazing weekend.”

“And who knows what comes next,” she whispers as I lean the rest of the way. I want to kiss her.

“I want to kiss you.”

She doesn’t respond. She simply stretches up and presses her lips to mine. My heart collects itself and explodes in an explosion of slime.

She feels the exact same, tastes the same, but the confidence is new. It makes me dizzy. I want her even more.

“Get a fucking room!” Thomas says from behind. “Are you two gonna need a ride or planning on shagging in the bushes over there?”

I flip him off and finish the perfect kiss, using every bit of my willpower as y/n’s hand trails down my neck and back to my chest.

“Go on,” I say without even looking at my friends. “We’ve got an after after party.”

“Gross,” someone grumbles behind us.

“G’night!” Y/n shouts and with our chests heaving we break apart, grab hold of each other’s hands, and begin the walk to her house.

We walk in silence—our hands swinging between us tells you everything you need to know about how we were feeling.

At her front door y/n smiles up at me. It feels like deja vu, standing in her doorway with her looking at me like that. Knowing we were going to her bedroom just to get in bed. Time folds in on itself as I press a kiss to her lips.

“I’m so glad I couldn’t stay angry tonight,” she strokes my face. “I would’ve missed all this.”

“Me too,” I whisper. “I’m glad my mug’s so handsome it wore you down.”

She rolls her eyes but she’s smiling. “It wasn’t the mug. Although it is even more handsome than the last time I saw it.”

I kiss her, “Mmm then what was it that wore you down?”

“I dunno,” she sighs. “You? Us?”

Us.

“Whatever it was, I’ll make sure to write it a thank you note. Now why don’t you open that door because my hands are not going to stay PG for very long. And I’m pretty sure your mum’s got one of those camera doorbells.”

“Oh god,” she whips around and laughs before slapping a hand to her mouth. “Sorry mum!”

We stifle our laugh and step inside. Deja vu comes rushing at me again at the familiarity of her home.

As we sneak up to her room I think about what y/n said. It was true, even though she couldn’t pinpoint it. Despite how we felt at the beginning of the night it was always going to end this way. Something about us was always meant to come back to each other.

You. Us. Her.

It was always her.

#writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #fic #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #the golden years #joshua bassett #harry styles one shot #harry stylesxreader #second chance romance #lyrics #this was a fun one

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gracescoolbeans · 1 month ago

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but nights with you are better [A.Giarratana]

paring: angela giarratana x reader

summary: sleepless nights aren’t so bad when you have angela to keep you company

warnings: none, just fluff; a few dashes of anxiety; sleepy angela being way too cute; shameless nerdy prudes must die plug; not proofread!

wordcount: 1.1k

a/n: i’ve been having a really hard time falling asleep lately so i wrote this fic instead of actually doing something about it 😅 i’ve been wanting to write angela fics since i started this blog but i’m finally committing! i have far too many ideas and not enough time but i’ll make it work somehow…hopefully 😶 anyway, hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

A sigh tumbles out of your mouth as you roll away from your girlfriend and stare up at the dark ceiling above you. You close your eyes and try to fall back asleep to no avail.

Looks like another sleepless night.

You turn your head to look at the brunette next to you, a part of you wanting to reach out and wake her. The two of you haven't been living together for long and you were still getting used to sharing a sleep schedule with someone else.

More than that, you were slowly becoming an expert in getting up out of bed without making a shit ton of noise. It wasn't as easy as it sounded. Especially because Angela's ears were somehow completely tuned to you.

You were making it work, though, and the slight challenge was a small price to pay to live with your girlfriend.

You and Angela had decided moving in together would fix both your need to find a better place to live (with slightly more manageable rent) and her need to spend more time with you in between her endless gigs. Her work ethic was admirable, albeit slightly unhealthy. At least this way, you could keep an eye on each other.

Of course, you'd sort of forgotten to mention the troubles you usually have with falling asleep and staying asleep. You didn't necessarily consider yourself an insomniac, but you did go through days, weeks, sometimes even months, of struggles that couldn't be soothed with warm tea or less screen time.

Your girlfriend, on the other hand, couldn't seem to get enough of sleep. She could nap anywhere as long as she was somewhat comfortable. It would be awesome if you weren't so jealous of her ability.

Angela needed her sleep, though. She worked way too hard for way too many hours and her only form of self-care was simply a plate of pasta and a glass of wine.

That's why you decided that instead of waking her up with your endless tossing and turning, you'd get up and put a comfort movie on the TV and chill there until you got sleepy again.

Instead of a movie, though, you stumbled across Nerdy Prudes Must Die and decided to watch it for the hundredth time. It didn't replace the soft sound of Angela's voice next to your ear when she held you against her, but it was good enough for now.

So, you snuggled up on the couch with an unbelievable amount of pillows, a warm blanket, and a slightly grumpy Spork next to the couch.

That's exactly where you were when Angela made her way out of the bedroom in search of you. "y/n?"

You turn your head at the sound of your girlfriend's voice, a soft smile pulling at the corners of your lips when you take in her sleepy appearance. "Hey, babe. Why're you awake?"

"Dunno," she shrugs as she struggles to suppress a yawn. "But I got worried when I didn't feel you. You okay?"

Her concern, paired with her extra raspy voice, makes your heart swell. "Yeah, I'm fine, just couldn't sleep."

She pouts, walking over to join you on the couch. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"So you could be grumpy and complain?"

"Good point."

You chuckle as you move over to make room for Angela. She manages to fit in between you and the couch, her arms wrapping around your middle and pulling you against her chest.

"Wait, what are you watching?" She asks.

"What do you think, doofus?" You reply, playfully elbowing her stomach. "Don't talk so much, though, it's my favorite part."

Your favorite part, of course, being the entirety of Dirty Girl. Angela, on the other hand, always has a hard time watching that part since she's way too focused on herself and her "mistakes".

What she calls mistakes, though, you call her acting quirks. Quirks that turn Grace Chasity into one of the most complex and entertaining characters you've ever seen.

"Do I really have to watch this?" She grumbles, leaning down and burying her face in the side of your neck.

"You can go back to sleep if you want." Your hands find their way on top of hers and you allow your fingers to trace the backs of them, along with the slightly protruding veins that cover them.

"Not while I'm listening to myself."

It's hard not to find her constant complaining funny and you barely manage to hold in your laughter. She's always slightly more sensitive than usual when she's tired, so you take pity on her...for now.

Thankfully, she stops pouting long enough for you to watch the best part of the whole musical. You don't miss the way she sings the song under her breath even though you decide not to call her out on it.

"How many times have you seen this?" She asks once she's sure your favorite part has passed.

"A lot," you say, feeling your cheeks heat up with the admission. "I watch it when I miss you."

"Baby-" She tries her hardest to hold in a laugh but ultimately fails. "You could have just woken me up!"

Angela's clear amusement does little to soothe your growing embarrassment. You try to squirm away from her to avoid any further teasing but she simply holds you tighter, pulling you closer until you're flush against her once more.

"Sorry, sorry, you know I'm just teasing," she mumbles, pressing a line of kisses to the side of your neck.

"You're annoying," you huff.

Despite your words, you sink back against her once more, tilting your head slightly to give her better access to your skin.

"You know you love me, princess."

"That doesn't make you any less annoying."

Her kisses trail up your neck and onto your jaw before finally landing on your lips.

"I'm serious, by the way," she whispers once she pulls away. "Wake me up next time. I don't care how tired I am. I want to be here with you."

"Hmmm..." You pretend to think about it for a second just to steal another kiss from her. "You've got yourself a deal, angel."

She laughs again as she rests her chin on your shoulder, silently going back to watching the musical with you.

You make it all the way to Hatchet Town before your eyes grow far too heavy for you to keep them open.

Angela gently shifts you until your head rests against her shoulder. She watches you for a few moments until she's sure you've gone back to sleep.

She knows her back will be awfully sore tomorrow morning and you'll definitely have a kink in your neck but it's a small price to pay for a few more hours of cuddles. Not just cuddles, though, she was banking on you staying asleep until morning this time.

She'd stay up all night to keep an eye on you if she had to. You're far more important to her than some extra hours of sleep.

#angela giarratana x reader #angela giarratana x you #angela giarratana fic #angela giarratana #angela thoughts #smosh #smosh fic #smoshblr #starkid #grace chasity #nerdy prudes must die

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joelsmochi · 1 year ago

Text

Good Surprise

Read part one here. SUMMARY: Joel finally gets to have you. WARNINGS: smut minors dni, a little slow at some points but it leads up to a very very very pervy!joel, needy!sub!joel, dom!reader (??? she's a little mean hehe), awkwardness, brief cig smoking (don't judge girly is stressed). 18+ WARNINGS: panty kink, cum eating, masturbation (m), oral (m receiving), good boy bomb (just once), dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (m + f), public...stuff WC: 7.6k

A/N: Here is part two of UATW. There is at least one more part coming soon, so stay tuned! Thank you for reading, I love you all sm. Enjoy :)

series masterlist | main masterlist

If one more fucking customer complains about the wait time—

“Excuse me, ma’am, how much longer do we have to wait to be seated?” A rude man you’ve already dealt with asked even though you were in the middle of taking someone’s order.

Your eyes were wide out of sheer annoyance when you turned to look at him and asked, “How long was the wait when you got here?”

“Fifteen minutes,” he replied.

“Okay, and how long ago was that?”

“Five minutes ago.”

“Fifteen minus five is..." You pretended to think about it to be satirical. "Oh! Ten! Your wait time is ten minutes.”

You heard one of your managers shout your name, and you turned to look at him.

“Hey, maybe you should go take ten, alright?” He suggested. “You need a cigarette?”

He held his pack of Newport’s in his hand. You rolled your eyes, snatched the pack from him, and walked away without saying another word. “Only ten!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

You stepped out of the rear door and stood next to the side of the building, watching the ongoing traffic as you lit and puffed on the disgusting cigarette.

“Your daddy know you smoking?” You heard from across the parking lot. Your eyes adjusted and saw Joel standing there with Tommy, who seemingly got off of work not too long ago.

“Hey, pretty girl!” Tommy shouted before walking over to you. You held the cigarette away from him and gave him half a hug while he placed a kiss on your head. “Why you smokin’, huh?”

“Oh my God, it’s one fucking cigarette,” you exclaimed.

“Rough day?” Joel asked.

You rolled your eyes, looking away from the two men. “Yeah, shit. Sorry. I’ll seat you guys when I get back in there. You can go ahead of this dickhead in there interrupting me every five minutes.”

“We were just gonna get it to go—“

Joel interrupted Tommy, “He givin’ you a hard time?”

“I’m probably just over-exaggerating. I’m just hungry. And tired. You guys go in and get your food. I don’t want to keep ya.”

Joel hated seeing you like this: your eyes puffy and purple from stress, smoking a goddamned cigarette. Your focus both everywhere and nowhere.

He thought maybe it was his fault for not seeing you these past few weeks. It wasn’t because he was afraid. Work was just busy, and he wanted to spend as much time with Sarah before she spent the rest of the summer at her friends’ houses.

“No, we’ll stay,” Tommy offered, feeling almost as bad as Joel. “Haven’t seen ya in forever anyways. We’ll catch up when the rush is over.”

You offered Tommy a weak smile while Joel was grinning from ear to ear in his head. He was happy to at least see you. Joel took the cigarette from your hand and tossed it in a puddle. You turned your annoyed self around and walked inside through the back door.

“Hey, uh, Tommy, why don’t you go ‘head and order for us. I gotta take a leak,” Joel said.

Tommy agreed, walking off, and the second that he was out of view Joel pushed you back into the men’s restroom, manipulating your body until your back was against the door. You couldn't even catch your breath with how fast everything was happening.

He loosely wrapped his hand around your throat, then licked a firm strip along the curve of your neck to your earlobe before giving it a mean bite. You gasped as your nipples hardened.

“I’m sorry I haven't seen you, baby,” he whispered in your ear, moving his hand to your skirt. Flashbacks of the kitchen playing in your head.

“That’s okay, I know you’ve been busy,” you whispered as he lifted the fabric up. Your lips crashed against his ferociously. You moaned when the bitter taste of coffee fell from his tongue onto yours after you slipped it into his mouth.

“I think about you all the time, you know?” You nodded at his question and kissed him again, this time much more sloppy.

“I have to get back to work, J—“ You stopped speaking when he lifted your leg and began to grind his hard cock against your needy cunt. You inhaled too hard, having to suppress your moans. “Joel, I have to go back,” you breathed out.

“Just one more minute, baby, please,” he whimpered, grinding into you roughly, “just one more—“

This was more relief than he had gotten any time he fucked his fist at the thought of you. Being close to you, making you feel how hard his cock got for you — finally rewarding himself with you even if it was only like this.

He didn’t envision dry humping you in the bathroom where you work, but he waited weeks to have you against him and felt like he deserved a little gratuity for his patience.

His arms looped around your back, head laying on your chest. You snaked a hand through his hair and held him close, wanting to feel him writhe and tremble beneath you.

When he said one minute, he meant it. Your pelvis was already growing sore from how hard and fast he was grinding you, but it was worth it.

He moaned a little too loud and moved his mouth over your neck to quiet himself as his thrusts became less frequent and longer. His breathing was heavy and hard, back rising and falling from trying to hold himself up as his orgasm toppled his entire being.

You felt him push your panties down your leg and tried to stop him. You thought he was trying to have sex. “Joel, come on, we don’t have time—“

“This ain’t f’you,” he chuckled tiredly. He successfully got them off of you and fixed your skirt before he held your panties up by your face. “This is f’me.” He folded your soaked underwear and shoved them in his pocket, then smacked a kiss on your lips before walking into a stall.

You realized neither of you checked them before your quick hookup. You prayed that nobody else was in the bathroom. Your trembling legs miraculously carried you out to the dining room. You continued to work like nothing even happened.

“Back on time for once?” You boss teased.

“Only because your cigarettes are shit.”

“Thanks for the ride, Tommy,” you said from the backseat of the truck.

“Yeah, kid, anytime. Thanks for covering our dinner,” he replied.

You grimaced when you remembered you deleted their order from the system. “Yeahhh, do me a favor and don’t mention that to Mikey.”

The men chuckled, and Tommy promised he wouldn’t say anything.

“Night, Tom,” you said before climbing out of the truck with Joel following.

“Night!”

Tommy practically sped off, leaving you and Joel to stand at the end of your driveway. You looked up at Joel with a smile, untying your apron and bunching it up in your hand.

“You really are a perv,” you joked. Joel just pursed his lips, checking you out. “What ya gonna do with my panties anyways, huh?”

“I’m gonna use them,” he spoke.

You cocked up an eyebrow and laughed when the image of him using the garment to stroke himself popped into your head. “You have fun with that,” you said after walking past him.

“Oh, I will.”

He waited until you got inside safely before he entered his own home; he grabbed a bottle of water and checked in on Sarah, seeing that she was already asleep with her notebook open and a pen in her hand. He closed her notebook and took the pen, setting them on her nightstand. She shuffled a bit after Joel put the blanket over her but settled after getting comfortable.

Joel closed her door and then went into the bathroom, turning the shower on; he undressed and reached for the pocket in his jeans that held your panties. They were blue with a pink rose sewn into the center of the hem. He stared at them, wondering what the fuck possessed him to do something like that.

He couldn’t resist bringing them to his face, as dirty as it felt. He saw that they were laden with your discharge. He took in the scent of you while palming his limpness. He could smell many things: your tangy juices, your vanilla perfume. He even smelled a little bit of your sweat, and it fucking incapacitated him.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head while he tried to suppress the moan that left his hoarse throat. His dick quickly hardened after he gave your panties a few more sniffs, and it made him crave the taste of you in his mouth again.

He brought the panties down to his cock and lazily wrapped them around it; he leaned over the sink, trying to hold himself up as he imagined your pretty lips wrapped around his length.

He thought about different ways you’d suck him — would you smile? Would you use your hands or just your mouth? Would you gag and choke around him so much that it brought tears to your eyes?

Every scenario he imagined only made him stroke himself harder and faster. He was gripping the corner of the sink so hard his hand was beginning to cramp up.

His cock twitched, straining against the fabric of your panties, and he felt that familiar stretch in the pit of his stomach to indicate he was close. He can’t think of a time when he finished so fast just from fucking his fist and doing it without a magazine or a movie to help? He was drunk off of you and never wanted to recover.

What is this girl doing to me?

His mind switched over to chaste thoughts of you, and that stretch inside him only tugged deeper. You were such a sweet person: always wanting to help people out and trying to get people to smile. Your smile would light up the entire room, and your confidence was intimidating in the best way possible.

Even during the moment, you had been asking for help with your ‘boyfriend’ while trailing your foot up Joel's leg, you still managed to sound so sweet. Your eyes would tend to ask him if something was okay. The thing was that when he was with you, everything was.

This was no longer just you two sneaking around like a pair of high schoolers. This had become a kink for him. The feeling of shame he often felt only turned him on even more.

He bit his lip a little too hard when his cock began to throb, immersing him in strain and ecstasy. It was almost painful. His hips jerked as he fucked his fist, pumping the last of his cum into your panties.

Joel’s head hung low while he caught his breath so he could muster up the strength to step into the steamy shower after he tossed your panties on the floor next to his jeans.

Thoughts of you floated around in his head as he stood beneath the water; he looked out of the small awning in the shower, and his eyes immediately locked with yours.

The devious smirk on your face told him you knew just what he just did, and he was too embarrassed to smile back before you left his view.

It was Independence Day, and while you didn’t exactly care to celebrate it, it was a good enough excuse for you and your dad to have some family and friends over.

You were in the middle of forming burger patties when you saw Tommy, Sarah, and another girl her age enter the kitchen from the back door.

“Hi!” You chirped, letting Tommy hug you and kiss your temple. “How are you guys?” Sarah hugged your side as well, with you returning the gesture.

“Good,” they said in unison.

“Where’s your dad at? I need to see what kinda beer he wants,” Tommy said while stealing a bottle of water from the fridge.

“What about what kind of beer I want?” You lightheartedly complained.

“What kinda beer you want?” Tommy said after a reluctant roll of his eyes.

“I don’t care, but ooh! Can you get me some wine coolers?”

Tommy pretended to be annoyed and walked upstairs after sassily saying, “Fiiine.”

“Who’s your friend?” You asked Sarah.

“This is Crystal. She’s my camp buddy,” Sarah introduced. You said hi and introduced yourself before Sarah asked, “Hey, do you still have that Cameron Diaz movie?”

You side-eyed her and tried not to smile. “The one that’s rated R?” Sarah gave you a hopeful smile, one that you couldn’t refuse. “It’s in my room, you can watch it in there. And hey! Keep the volume down, please.”

“Thank you!” She shouted before she and her friend ran upstairs, giggling adorably.

“What’re they giggling about?” Joel’s voice boomed as he walked into the room.

“Nothin’, just girl stuff.”

You were wearing a maroon-colored tube top and a black maxi skirt with wedge sandals. His eyes glossed over every curve and line of your body with how beautifully the clothes hugged your body.

You finished preparing the patties and turned around to wash your hands. Meanwhile, Joel’s hands snaked over your hips to cradle the base of your belly. Sheepishly giggling, you swayed your body in his arms and said, “Joel, someone could come down and see us.”

“That’s what makes it so fun,” he whispered, his voice vibrating against your ear, sending chills throughout your spine. “You look so beautiful today.”

You hummed with a goofy smile on your face. “Thank you, you don’t look too bad yourself.” You turned around in his grasp and held his face as if he were fragile. He was clad in a brown shirt that complimented his pretty brown orbs and his typical Levi jeans that hung perfectly around his hips. “I’ve missed my favorite pair of panties.”

“Those blue ones with the rose on ‘em?”

“Uh-huh, you know the ones you came in last week?”

He pretended to think about it for a few seconds. “Ohh, yeah. Yeah, right. I actually brought them here with me today.” He pulled said panties out of his pocket and held them out of reach when you tried to snatch them. “Gi’me a kiss,” he bargained, and you happily obliged.

Your lips landed on his with a tenderness warm enough to melt him inside. His lips swirled around with yours in an entanglement so delicious it made your cunt leak all of Joel’s favorite flavors.

He slipped his tongue out and slid it across your lips, asking for permission to taste you; you parted your mouth slightly enough for him to lick across your teeth. You giggled and slid your tongue out to mesh with his while both of you tried to keep quiet.

You felt how thick and dominating his tongue was, telepathically begging him to lick your pussy. His kisses were so docile for how your body was responding to them.

Tommy and your father could be heard coming down the stairs when you were about to deepen the kiss. Joel tucked your underwear back into his pocket as you gasped for air and he immediately retreated to the other side of the island while faking a conversation.

“So, d’you get to meet any fashion designers when you were in school?” He asked just when they walked in.

“No,” you pouted as you thought about it, “but we did get to go to Ready to Wear. We saw lots of big brands being modeled.”

Just then, your dad chimed in. “My baby girl’s gonna be the best fashion designer the world will ever know.”

You blushed when he pinched your cheekbones and thanked him. “Your burgers are done. I finished the potato salad and the lemonade. All I have to do is finish the pudding and go to the store for the peach cobbler and ice cream, and I would love to take your truck to go and do that.” You held your hand out with a persuasive smile, waiting for him to drop the keys in your hand.

You saw your dad purse his lips and glance back and forth between the two brothers. He hated being put on the spot so naturally you made it a habit to do that.

“Last time you took my truck anywhere, you came home with a court hearing and a forty-dollar ticket,” he grunted. You didn’t budge other than to further emphasize your smile; his sigh was full of resentment, but he ultimately pulled his keys out and placed them in your hand. “No speeding.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“No smoking.”

“Course not.”

“No drinking until you get home.”

“I’m not a fucking idiot.”

“No picking up friends.”

“Of course.”

“No picking up drugs.”

“Dad.”

“And Joel’s going with you.”

“Oh, great. A babysitter."

“Anything goes wrong, you call me.”

“Got it, Rambo. Can I have thirty bucks?”

He reached into his wallet and asked, “What do you need thirty bucks for?”

You happily took the money from him and said, “I just wanted to see if you’d give it to me.” He rolled his eyes and waved you off as he walked away. Tommy followed him.

“Okay, babysitter Miller, let’s go. And Tommy, don’t forget my Seagrams!”

The drive to the store was probably the most normal interaction you had with Joel since your arrival a month ago. Your experience attending fashion school sparked his curiosity, and you were eager to discuss it with him. As you were growing up, he rarely got to see you excited about anything, so he enjoyed seeing you passionate about something.

But as soon as you parked the car and looked at Joel, the normalcy melted away from the heat of the sun. He trimmed his patchy facial hair and got a haircut that (to him) was long overdue.

“You clean up nice,” you spoke barely above a whisper. He nodded as thank you, not moving any muscles on his leathering face. You got a whiff of his aftershave — or maybe it was cologne — not quite sure what the scent was, but it smelled rich and musky. “Smell good too.”

That got his smile to crack.

“I know I said it already, but you look very pretty today,” he replied. He began to stroke your chin while using his thumb to trace the outline of your jaw.

“Thank you.” You kissed the curve of his hand, making the hairs on his arm stand up. You felt a rush of embarrassment though you weren't too sure why. You closed your eyes and kissed his hand again. “Fuck, Joel. What are you doin’ t’me?”

He frowned. “What, baby?”

You shrugged, unsure of what to say or what you even felt.

“Do we need to stop—“

“No. No.” You looked to him again, hoping to find an answer or, at the very least, an explanation. “I think I’m just overwhelmed.”

He pulled his hand away, anticipating your next move. It never came. You just sat there boring your eyes into his, then the mood shifted; his smile was contagious, filling your lungs with lost air and pushing the anxiety away.

You leaned over the center console to kiss him; his hand cupped the base of your neck beneath your hair, swirling his thumb around the nap of your neck.

The kisses you shared were savory and slow, an occasional mewl leaving your throat. You placed a hand on his chest, feeling his muscles and heart beating rapidly. Your panties were coated in a chilling layer of slick from his tongue slipping against yours, and he pulled away before it got too out of hand.

“Come on, ‘fore your old man sends the army after me.”

“He was in the Navy,” you corrected.

Joel managed to be on his best behavior in the store with you. For a moment, it actually felt like he was in a relationship with you. It didn’t help when an older lady stopped you two to say you were a lovely couple. While Joel was taken aback by the compliment, you just said thank you and continued shopping like it was nothing.

You figured you two looked like a couple with the close proximity and lingering gazes, so it didn’t surprise you as it did him.

He enjoyed seeing you pick up makeup that interested you and look in the little mirrors to see if you liked it against your skin tone. He let you guide him through the store. He didn’t mind. Not when he got more time alone with you.

“You’ve changed a lot. You know that?” He said abruptly when you were looking at the ice cream. You asked how he arrived at that conclusion as you gave him a look of disbelief. “You seem to be a lot more yourself. More sure of who you are.”

You gave him a sad smile as you came to that realization. “You really think so?”

“I do."

You looked back at the ice cream and grabbed a french vanilla carton, telling him, “You changed quite a bit yourself too… You were a very disorganized person from what I can remember. You just seem to have a clearer head now than you were before.”

“I guess I just didn’t know how to deal with being a single father.”

“Well, I think you’re doing a good job raising Sarah. She… She seems sure of herself too. Like me I guess.”

“Don’t know where she got it from.”

“Well, it wasn’t your grumpy ass. That’s for sure.”

The rest of the day went without a hitch. More people from around the neighborhood showed up, and for most of the day, you were mingling with Sarah and Crystal, who raved about some lewd scene from the movie you’d let them watch.

While everyone was watching the fireworks, you started picking up in the kitchen, knowing your dad was too drunk off his ass to do it. You loaded the dishwasher and began putting leftovers away when the girls came inside.

“My dad is letting me stay at Crystal’s tonight for the weekend,” Sarah said, her tone giving away the sense that she wanted another favor.

“Yeees?” You taunted.

“Well. I was wondering if we could borrow a couple movies and maybe some makeup?”

You looked at Sarah, seeing that glint of eagerness that you remember having at her age. Curious about the world and boys and girls and relationships. You couldn’t say no.

“Which movies?”

“Thirteen and What a Girl Wants?”

“No and yes,” you answered.

Sarah was clearly not happy you said no to Thirteen. “What?! Why? But I’m fourteen.”

“You can watch Thirteen when you turn thirty,” you mothered.

“Ugh, okay fine. How about Hot Chicks? Crystal’s never seen it.”

You debated it in your head but figured it was better than what you let them watch earlier. “Okay, deal. And only take makeup from the top of the vanity!” You shouted after they were already making their way upstairs. Your dad appeared not long after. He hugged you after wobbling a little bit, and a wet kiss was placed on your forehead. “Ew, Dad!”

“Some of us are going to a bar downtown for a couple hours.”

“You’re not driving are you?”

“No, no. It’s just a mile up the road. I’ll get a taxi on the way back. I promise you.”

“Okay. Well, call me if you need a ride or get arrested.”

A few others came inside, and you saw how your Dad looked at one of the women; physically, she was the antithesis of your mom. He gave her a smile once she noticed him staring.

“Go talk to her, dumbass,” you whispered, giving him a nudge with your elbow.

“Oh, we’ll be doin' more than ta—“

“Don’t!” You interrupted. “Do not finish that sentence.”

He chuckled and hugged you goodnight. “Joel said he’ll help clean up.”

“Oh, he doesn’t have to do that,” you responded.

“I think he has a crush on you.”

You froze at his words slowly turning your head to him. “Uh…”

You could see it in his eyes that he didn’t really know why he said that. He was definitely drunk. “Anyways. Love you, kid. I gotta get me some tail.”

You grimaced and pushed him away. “Real classy, Dad. Really fucking classy.” You shook your head as he followed his friends laughing.

Joel had dropped the girls off at Crystal’s house before he made his way back to you. The second he left, you ran upstairs to clean yourself quickly, hoping that tonight would be the night you finally get to have him.

Joel’s footsteps were heard from the entryway trailing into the living room where you were watching TV. Your head turned, a smile already curling around your lips.

“Hi, Joel,” you said before clicking the television off. He could just hear it in your tone how horny you were. He stared at you like a deer in headlights, making you laugh, so you walked over to him, bare feet padding against the wood. You took his hand in yours and guided him upstairs. “Sit on the bed,” you told him.

He was a nervous fucking wreck and you acting so calm about the situation only made him more nervous.

You shut the door even though no one was home and turned off your big light, the only glow coming from some string lights and an old ambient light in the corner. As corny as it felt “setting the tone” you wanted to make this moment special because every other time was rushed and sloppy (not that you minded).

You stood in front of him, feeling exposed despite being fully dressed. You rubbed your clammy hands over your thighs.

“Is this okay?” You asked.

“Yeah,” Joel said a little loudly. He cleared his throat and tried to calm down. “Yeah.”

“We don’t—we don’t have to.”

“No, no, I want to. If—if you want to. Shit, uh…” He chuckled, bashful at his poor attempt at easing the tension.

“Okay,” you tittered.

You reached for the rim of your shirt, lifting it slowly to expose your stomach. He watched your fingers slither over your skin, and you asked again, “Is this okay?”

How did I get so lucky?

He nodded.

You moved your shirt up more, exposing the underside of your breasts and part of your areola. “This okay?”

This is the first time, he realized, that I’ll see her tits.

He nodded again. You peeled the shirt from your body and let it drop to the floor.

Fuck. They’re perfect.

Your nipples were already stiff with anticipation, goosebumps scattered over your flesh. “How about…” Your thumbs broke the waistband of your skirt. “This?” You pushed the fabric down just enough to reveal that you weren’t wearing any panties.

She’s doing all this for me. To make me feel special.

The lump in his throat ran dry, and you didn’t bother waiting for another response. You let your skirt cascade down your legs to hit the floor. You teetered over to stand between his legs and pressed his face into your belly.

He pressed a kiss into your flesh and ran his hands over your thighs before firming a squeeze on your ass. His nails left indents while he sunk his teeth into your skin, wanting his body to mesh in yours.

Your knees slowly drifted to the floor; he let you fiddle with the opening of his jeans so that he could focus on tasting your sweet lips, getting lost in the feeling of being here with you.

You sucked his bottom lip roughly and palmed his growing erection over his boxers. He hovered over the bed for a moment to push his pants down enough to let his cock spring free.

Your eyes widened at his girth while his cockhead tapped his lower stomach. Your mouth watered as you watched it twitch a couple times.

He leaned back on his elbows and took in the sight of your intimidation from the size of his dick, smiling arrogantly when you licked your lip with the purpose to ready your mouth. You hummed after gaining a bit of confidence to praise how big he was.

“All for you,” he said.

You slowly blinked, then wrapped your hand around his velvety shaft. His cock was littered with veins. You licked your lips and drooled your salivation over his warm tip, letting it glide down a bit. You kept your eyes locked with his as you wrapped your swollen lips around him.

His cock felt hot and it pulsed with need once it came in contact with your perfect mouth. He fought the urge to moan, letting out his cries in a symphony of whimpers instead.

Your eyes rolled back at the sound of his wordless little pleads. You circled your tongue around his head relentlessly before surprising him by forcing his cock to hit the back of your throat.

His entire body flinched and he shouted out a few curse words. You gagged and pulled back; you allowed your spit to drip down his skin. You slurped around his tip and moaned when he flinched again. Then, you took more of him in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down. You fell in love with how he tasted in your mouth as his salty precum oozed over your tongue. The gagging and slurping noises echoed in the room and he couldn’t keep his moans to himself anymore.

“Oh, f-fuck,” he whimpered, thrusting into your mouth gently. “Fuck. That—that feels so fucking good, baby. Yes baby, yes baby, yes.”

You moaned around the shaft, eliciting more obscenities from him. Your mouth was so full even though you hadn’t taken all of him. Your cheeks hollowed around him, creating a tighter vessel for him to fuck while you stroked whatever you couldn’t fit.

His face contorted with the anguish of not wanting to finish yet, but he couldn’t stop now, could he?

Maybe if I just get a little closer—just a little.

So lost in the pleasure, he felt the start of his climax rise causing him to gently pull you off of him.

A single streak of his cum shot onto your cheek. You flinched but laughed endearingly, helping his ego feel better about it.

“Fuck. Sorry.” His chest heaved with his mouth dry from his heavy breathing as you assured him it was okay.

He took a moment to gather himself before sitting up and wiping his cum from your face. You grabbed his wrist before he got the chance to wipe it clean; you impulsively sucked the milky release before swallowing it shamelessly.

Joel’s eyes were glossy and low. He could watch you lick up his cum for hours if you wanted to. You looked so sweet on the outside but inside you were dark, full of a lust that was forever unfulfilled by previous boyfriends.

Sometimes you wondered if you even knew what you want sexually, yet Joel was able to just read you and provide.

“You’re such a good girl for me," he asked with a devious smile, "aren't you?"

“Anything for you, Joel.”

Chuckling, he picked you up effortlessly and sat you on his stomach while he laid on his back.

“Use me,” he begged.

You blushed. “What do you mean?”

“You said your last boyfriend didn’t do the things you needed him to,” he explained, “so use me. Fuck me however you want. And I’ll fuck you however you need me to. Be as rough as you want. As mean as you want. Ride me, ride my face—I don—I don’t care. I just need you. Need you s’fucking bad.”

You saw in his eyes desperation, and it made your head spin. A man so brute and strong like Joel begging to be your fuck toy was a sight for your sore eyes.

You adjusted your body and carefully lined his cock up with your sopping entrance; he felt rewarded when your puffy walls clung to him. The stretching of your pussy burned deliciously inside of you.

You sat there for a moment. Not to get adjusted to his fat cock, but to just feel him. Feel him twitch and jerk, aching to pump you full of his seed.

You circled your hips slowly feeling his head bump against your g-spot. Your fingers pressed into his chest and you started to ride the slight curve of his shaft.

“Oh, my God. Joel,” you cried out, feeling how his cock stuffed you perfectly each time you rode down.

“That feel good, baby?”

As your eyelashes fluttered shut, you were pathetically nodding and reaching up to play with one of your breasts. “Yes,” you moaned.

With thick hands wrapped loosely around your waist and eyes fixated on you, Joel was under your spell. He loved being used by you. Submitting.

You appreciated the control he gave you over his body. He was of free use just for you, and you grew tired of being afraid of that. You fucked him however you wanted, just like he had asked, finding the inconsistencies of your movements titillating.

His long fingers drew random patterns around your back, adding intimacy to the connection. He looked so breathtaking beneath your tantalized body. His eyebrows furrowed into a pout that made your heart melt for him, and his pursed lips cooed out little praises.

"Yes," he whimpered, softly thrusting into you as you went down to create the perfect rhythm. "Yes, yes, yes," he continued. "Darlin', you're doing so good for me, yes."

"You feel so good," you moaned. "Your cock is so fucking big."

"You take it so well, baby girl. Ahh—fu… You're doin' so good f'me."

You leaned down to kiss his wet lips, moans pouring from you. "S'it feel good?"

"Yes, baby. Fuck yes, you feel so fucking good. Don't s-stop."

You gasped and twisted your nipple between your fingertips, feeling an ungodly amount of your precum seep between your bodies. A bundle of pleasure twinged in the pit of your stomach, making your hips stutter and mess up the rhythm.

“I’m gonna cum, Joel—oh, fuuck. I’m gonna cum,” you said in a hushed voice.

You felt his hands smooth over your ass, and he began thrusting into you a bit more forcefully, encouraging you to finish.

A calamity overtook you; your climax was full of distress and violence. You had never screamed so loud before. Your orgasm worked against you, releasing itself into the darkest corners of your body.

You felt it everywhere. Your toes curled. Your elbows locked. Your fingers went numb. Your neck warmed. Every inch of your body felt haunted by the orgasm you felt yourself fighting. Joel fucking lived for it.

You were a fucking mess above him and he couldn’t stop himself from overstimulating you. He held you still in his strong arms and pounded into you ruthlessly, with no care in the world for how loud you were.

You loved how it overpowered you, intensifying as Joel determined to make it last longer. It felt like an eternity. Your chest shook from your blubbers, your body full of amnesia of reality.

He intently watched you, waiting for it to become too much. Your eyes welled up with tears and your face hurt from how contorted it had become. It wasn’t until you took a big breath in that he slowed down causing you to collapse atop his chest.

Joel held you close, grazing his fingers over your back and arms to soothe you as you came down from your high. All he wanted to do was to feel good with you and make sure you were satisfied.

You lifted your flushed face from the crook of his neck to give him a passionate kiss; he hummed against your warm lips, bringing a hand up to hold your face so he could deepen the connection.

He slowly rolled your body over until he was on top of you. Your hands slid along his broad shoulders whilst he erratically pushed his pants down, kicking them to the floor afterward. You pulled at the hem of his shirt and helped him remove it.

He slipped back inside of you as he stayed on his knees, getting the perfect view of your alluring frame. Your makeup had begun to fade away, and mascara scattered around your eyes. Your hair was messily laid around your head and your eyes were heavy with fatigue.

“Your so beautiful,” he said before reaching to pinch your cheeks in his big hand to slightly embarrass you, “you’re such a fucking mess already.”

You grabbed his hand, snatching it from your cheeks and pushing it away; you sat up enough to grab a hold of his neck, bringing his face closer to yours as a dangerous looked filled your eyes. You dug your legs into his thighs to push his length deeper inside of you, it caught him by surprise.

“Thought you said I was in control, huh,” you whispered. Joel instantly pouted, the pathetic look on his face fueled your desire to domesticate him.

“Y-you—yes, yes,” he weakly responded. “Yes. You a—you are in control.”

You gave him a soft kiss despite your tough demeanor to help calm him. “Good boy,” you praised, tightening your grip. He thanked you and started to move his halted hips again, this time with purpose and force.

Your hardened expression cracked, faltering into a look of bliss and thankfulness. His skin clapped against yours as you felt his balls swinging against your ass with every thrust.

The moans spilling between your lips was music to Joel’s ears; he felt the swollen head of his cock breech even deeper inside of you after you hung your legs around his hips. Your walls fluttered around his pulsating cock making your cunt feel tighter.

Combining that with your tight grip around his neck? Fuck. He wanted to cum so badly—

“Shit!” He shouted as he pulled out, not wanting this to end so soon.

You laughed at him more teasingly this time and let his neck go, using your legs to push him back inside with no effort.

He tried thrusting more slowly this time, but his body was just begging for release. He pulled out again and attempted to take a breather. You weren’t having it.

You pushed him into saint position and held his face firmly to make him look you in the eyes as you started to bounce on him.

“Baby,” he said, feeling the rise of his climax slowly build again, “I don’t wanna stop yet.”

“Your cock belongs to me,” you told him; he promptly agreed. “That means I do whatever I fucking want to. You’re gonna cum for me and let me keep fucking you.”

His eyes rolled back and his let out a moan of both desperation and relief. “Yes,” he whimpered, eagerly nodding his dazed head, “yes. My cock belongs to you. Only you—fuck—no one’s ever made me feel as good as you.”

You moaned in response, knowing you no longer needed to scold him.

He was so fucking thick. Not even all of your slick could help get used to his size. Your skin clung to his from the faint sweat coating both of your bodies. Your tits bounced against his toned chest stimulating your nipples, adding to the earth-shattering pleasure.

His breathing was shallow while he tried to hold off as long as possible. He then figured if he rubbed your clit you might be able to finish again with him.

You jolted when his thumb rubbed erratic loops around your clit, soon enough feeling your climax build again. And though it was not as powerful it hit you so much more quickly.

“Can you cum for me?” You asked nicely. “Fuck, I’m gonna cu—“ Your own gasps cut you off as you heard Joel say he was going to finish with you.

His forehead fell onto yours as the pressure finally exploded inside of you. Your body insisted on continuing to fuck him, your cunt pushing and pulling at his shaft as if you were trying to squeeze his cum out yourself. He painted your walls with his hot white load, filling you up even more as if you weren't full enough.

He held you tight and leaned his head onto your shoulders so that your shivering legs wouldn’t completely give out.

All of a sudden Joel grew an urge to eat you out before his cum spilled out.

He tossed you onto your back and got down on his stomach, barely letting you breathe before his tongue covered your throbbing hole.

You cried out his name shamelessly, feeling his tongue curl up inside of you. He watched you arch your back and grab at the sheets with your head thrown back and mouth opened.

At first, he only tasted your tangy cum as it lay thick and heavy on his tongue. But after a short while, he tasted was he could only presume to be himself. The taste was mostly brine, but a little sweet, and permeated along his tastebuds. He couldn’t get enough of how good the two of you tasted together.

He devoured every last drop he could manage before pulling away from you, feeling how hard his he still was. He wanted to make up for finishing so soon.

You wanted to come down—you were so fucking wore out. But you felt Joel twist you around onto your stomach and lift your hips up before shoving his cock back inside of you.

You groaned at the stretch feeling stronger than before, clawing at the bedsheets as he wasted no time to fuck you again. His hips clapped against your ass when his hands pushed into your waist, deepening your arch.

He would slowly pull back to where his beaming cockhead was only inside of you, then he'd thrust strong enough to make your body bounce a little on the springy mattress. He fucked you slow but hard, wanting you to feel every inch of him.

“Fuck! Yes, Joel!” You shouted.

“Like that, baby? Hmm?” He spanked you when you didn’t answer.

“Fuck, yes, you’re so good to me!”

Your moans turned into whines from the brute force of his body. Tears danced along your eyes as your pussy ached with overstimulation and rapture.

“My cock belongs to you? Hmm?” He said indignantly. He was already yours. He belonged to you. He just wanted to hear you say it again.

You moaned lustfully when he started going fast enough to make his balls hit your clit. He reached to grab your neck and beckoned you to get on your hands as well, keeping the grip loose enough for you to breathe.

“Yes, Joel, your fucking cock belongs to me," your voice was lame as you tried to regulate your breathing. Your sore pussy yearned again, asking for relief just once more. “Give it to me, please, give it to me.”

He looked at his dick thrust in and out of you, groaning at the smooth ring of your cum wrapped around the base of his shaft.

“You wanna cum again?” He asked. You begged and pleaded and cried for him to keep going.

He didn’t even try to comprehend when another orgasm was building for him. He ignored the anguish the second climax was bringing him, even if it was becoming too painful to bear. He didn’t care enough. He just wanted to keep listening to those pretty sounds you were making.

He never had an experience come close to this one. To being with you. Never imagined doing something as dirty as tasting his own cum, let alone after releasing it inside of his partner. And then to cum twice in the span of a few minutes? He knew then and there that no one would be able to satisfy him like you.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” You moaned in a high pitch that Joel thought was cute; your back arched and tensed, your whole body shaking with a third orgasm that felt instinctual. Your eyes filled with stars and you were lightheaded.

He let himself feel every aspect of his orgasm once the pain left his body. It was warm and made him a little hazy; he was so overwhelmed with euphoria that he could hardly react to it. He was persistent in finishing you both off with sloppy thrusts as he whispered sweet praises to you about how good you felt.

Your body collapsed making Joel’s dick slip out of you; he rested next to you once you laid on your side and put his arm around your head. You lay there in a bittersweet silence for a few minutes, savoring the sound of each other’s breathing and sleepy hums.

“I’m so tired now,” you lazily said.

Joel chuckled and pulled the blanket up to cover you. “Go to sleep, baby.”

“I don’t wanna,” you said tiredly; he chuckled again and kissed your head, wishing that this wasn’t casual. “Was it good for you?” You asked after looking up at him, the craving for sleep evident in your pretty eyes.

He couldn’t put into words how at peace he felt right now. He was tired too. “Yes, sweetheart.”

“I wasn’t too mean, was I?” You worried.

“No, baby,” he cooed, stroking your head. “You were perfect.” The way he said it ensured you it was the truth.

“I was perfect?” You giggled.

“Mm-hmm,” he hummed. “We should go out some night. Have a little fun."

"Joel Miller, r'you asking me on a date?"

"It ain't gotta be," he answered.

You giggled again and curled into his body some more. "Sure, Joel. Take me out to a bar so I can dance on sleazy men in cowboy hats to make you jealous."

He laughed, "You love makin' stories up, don't you?"

"It won't be a story for long."

Read part 3 here.

🏷️ @paleidiot @sarap-77 @mmeerraa @ssweetart42

#joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #tlou smut

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yuna542 · 2 years ago

Text

Connected (OT8 x reader)

Part 6<-

Part 7

Pairing: OT8 x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Suggestive Themes, Swearing, mentions of harassment!, protective Chan & Seungmin, Mentions of sex, jealousy

Word Count: 3.4k

Note: So this Part got so long that i had to split it in two. Hope you like it. I changed the dorm situation a bit, to have them all together. Believe me that is going to be important for the story;) The next Part will maintain big Chan Smut. Stay tuned.

Also I’m really sorry that I have to close the Taglist Thank you for the support! You‘re insane!)

On your first day of your new job as the personal manager of Stray Kids, you didn't expect to be standing in front of the man you made out with last night in a club. But it soon becomes clear that the Stray Kids don't just want you as their manager.

Will this passionate arrangement end your career?

As fast as you can, you get an Uber and drove directly to the dorm of the guys. After only a few minutes of driving, you're already standing in front of the front door. Nervously, you step from one foot to the other as Changbin opened the door. He was wearing only boxers and a shirt over his shoulders.

Completely surprised by the sudden sight of his freaking hot body, you just stared with your mouth open.

He was leaning against the door frame with one arm above your head so that his biceps was tensed, and he had a toothbrush between his pink lips. Apparently he was getting ready for the day at the studio and smelled like a delicious mixture of soft and dark scents that twisted your brain.

You noticed that his biceps seemed to be twice as big as your head and his entire torso tempted you to just lick it, so seductively was he built. His fluffy hair was still messy and he looked at you just as surprised.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?"

He stared at your figure under the dress and then back into your eyes. You swallowed hard, trying to break free of the naughty scenarios that assaulted you at the mere sight of him.

"Hey, Bin. I need to go see Chan and discuss the meeting."

Apparently he knew what you were talking about, because he nodded and took the toothbrush out of his mouth.

"I think he got here a few minutes ago. Come on in. But don't be shocked. It's pure chaos."

He held the door open for you and you stepped into the hallway, where there were already quite a few pairs of shoes standing around. Most of them you knew from the boys.

"How bad can it be? You guys just moved."

Changbin closed the door and led you into the living room.

"It's pretty bad. Believe me."

"I spend most of my time in a studio with 3Racha. I guess I'm used to it", you smirked, looking around the apartment curiously.

"That's true."

Indeed, there was chaos in every corner of the house. But that was probably still due to the move. The kids moved from the small dorm to a larger one a week ago, where they each finally had their own room. The fact that the eight of them still lived under one roof and didn't want to be alone was really sweet.

There were still unpacked boxes everywhere, used plates and bowls on the living room table, a lot of clothes, dumbbells, and even studio equipment lying around. That's when Seungmin also entered the living room and greeted you.

"Hey, Minnie. Are you ready for the meeting?", you asked and he leaned up against the back of the sofa.

"Sure. Do you need anything?"

"Yeah. I need to talk to Chan first."

Seungmin nodded, and just like Changbin, his gaze wandered along your curves. The dress had apparently been a great success till now. Suddenly, two hands grabbed you by the waist from behind and pulled you into a tight hug.

Startled, you squeaked, but when you heard Han's hearty laugh behind you, you groaned loudly.

"Surprise! It's just me. Your favorite rapper", he chirped and pulled you even tighter against him, so that your back was pressed against his chest and you could look up at him.

"Don't tell lies!", shouted Changbin.

"We all know who her favourite rapper is."

He sounded confident and grinned until Seungmin snorted.

"Don't act like that. I rap better than both of you put together."

"In your dreams Minnie", Han shot back, squeezing your hip and pressing your hips against him. The fabric of his jeans rubbing against your butt and his spicy cologne distracted you from the conversation.

He was probably unintentionally grinding your ass so hard against his middle that you could feel literally everything of him. He rested his chin in the crook of your neck and sucked in your scent deeply.

"You smell so good", he murmured against your ear, and it gave you goosebumps. His hands were wrapped tightly around your belly and the contact with the hard fabric of his pants made your dress slide up more and more.

"Jisung let go of her! She's here to talk to Chan, not to be groped by your horny ass!“, shouted Seungmin then and Jisung pouted, while Changbin giggled mockingly.

"Oh yeah? I thought you were here for me, pretty."

You had to smirk and padded him on the cheek with your hand.

"I'm always glad to see you, Ji."

That seemed to satisfy him and he let go of you, but not without looking at your ass, which was peeking out from under the now slid up dress, as was your white thong.

"Where's Chan?", you now asked around the room, and Seungmin nodded towards the long hallway where the boys' rooms seemed to be.

"He should be in his room. The third door on the right."

"Thanks."

Quickly, you tugged your dress back into place and followed Seungmin's description. First you knocked on the door, but when no one opened you pushed down the handle and entered.

Soft music was playing in the background and the big bed immediately caught your eye. Probably he had not heard you because of the music.

—

Meanwhile, Han looked at Seungmin shaking his head.

"You knew Chan had just taken a shower..."

Changbin laughed out loud and looked at the two of them with wide eyes. An evil grin formed on Seungmin's lips.

"Chan's always running around here naked... Maybe that's how he'll learn to put on some clothes", he said, and Han chuckled.

—-

Right at that moment, you stared at the broad shoulders of Chan, who was standing in front of his closet with his back to you. However, he was completely naked and to make matters worse, you couldn't get a word out.

Completely caught up in the sight, you didn't even dare to breathe.

The muscles on his back tightened and he had wet hair. It smelled like hot steam and shampoo in the room. He looked like a greek god with that wide back and beautiful glossy skin.

Just as he turned to face you, a surprised squeak escaped you and he heard it just in time to grab the towel on his bed with huge eyes and hold it in front of his privates.

"Fuck! What the hell?", he gasped with his slick aussie accent and his face flashed immediately red, like a traffic light. He looked even hotter from the front. His abs were defined and his skin still shone wetly. With only the towel in front of his middle, he stared at you as perplexed as you stared at him.

Except you couldn’t take your eyes off his abs and the defined V-lines that, to your disappointment, disappeared behind the towel.

"What are you doing here?", he asked.

Irritated, you dig out your phone out of your bag and waved it in the air.

"I texted you that I was coming over now. The guys said I could just come in", you stuttered and tried to look somewhere else, but his freaking mesmerising body attracted your eyes like a magnet.

When you mentioned his roommates, he sighed loudly.

"That explains it."

You didn't know what to say or what to do, which is why you just stood there.

"As much as I enjoy the look on your face and mostly the view, I should get dressed", he said then and immediately you felt embarrassed.

You mutter a quick: "Sorry."

And turned around. As you did, your whole head glowed and you bite your lip in embarrassment.

"You could also take off your clothes, then we'd be even", he suddenly said and you raised your eyebrows in surprise as you turned back to him.

By now he had on a pair of jeans and was buttoning up a black shirt that sat tight to his shoulders and made him look like a model. He glared at you with an amused grin and you were just glad he wasn't mad. He left the top buttons undone and stepped towards you. You had to put your head back to look up at him.

„But that will have to wait until later.“

You had no idea what he was up to but judging by his smile, it wasn't anything innocent he was thinking about.

"You look beautiful today, by the way", he murmured as he took your hands and planted a kiss on your knuckles. Instantly something fluttered in your chest and you brushed a strand of hair out of your forehead to stop yourself from touching his chest.

He took your hand and led you out of his room into the living room, where the others waited anxiously, trying with all their might to suppress their laughter.

"You are all idiots!", he snapped at them, but there was a smirk on his lips.

“I don’t know what you mean. I’m just trying to help”, Seungmin grinned and enjoyed the shy look and the rosy cheeks on your face. Chan shook his head and glared at him for a moment, before he turned back to you.

"Let's briefly discuss the finished concept for the video, and then we'll be on our way."

He was fully back to professional.

That was your cue. You started pulling out the notes on your phone and so you went over everything together again, correcting mistakes and putting the finishing touches on it before you were picked up by the driver.

In the car, Seungmin put an arm around you and took your nervous hand that you tapped incessantly against your leg into his own. With the other hand he massaged your neck lightly.

"You don't have to be nervous. Just be yourself and if you get unsure, we'll still be there to help you", he whispered near your ear.

It was only a few minutes drive to the sponsor's company site, but it seemed like an eternity. Gratefully, you leaned against Seungmin and nodded. His touch was comforting, and with the two of them by your side, you immediately felt much more confident.

You didn't have to wait long in the entrance hall and were led directly through the huge building by a pretty girl with long black hair. The company was at least twice as big as the JYP building and there were employees hurrying everywhere through the corridors. However, most of them were women, barely older than yourself, which was a bit strange.

The girl introduced herself as Ji-u and her eyes immediately sparkled when she saw Chan and Seungmin. It was annoying how she adored the boys with her beautiful smile and dark eyes.

But the two of them didn't even seem to take notice of it or they skillfully ignored it.

You had fast learned, that the boys just had this influence on people and especially on women.

While Ji-u led you through the building, she tried to start a conversation with Seungmin, but he only answered in one word, so she finally turned to Chan. Polite as he was, he chatted with her and every time he made her laugh or gave her a charming smile, something in your chest tightened. The pretty girl was already getting on your nerves in no time, as she completely ignored you in addition.

Arriving in front of the office, she knocked and briefly went inside to announce your presence.

Gradually you started to feel sick. Everything was so tense and professional here, and you had only been manager for a few months. The importance of this sponsor to JYP and more importantly to Stray Kids was huge and you were going to give everything you had to make this work.

"She likes you”, you remarked, and Chan looked at you with an amused smile.

"She's nice", he answered with a shrug.

You shook your head with a snort and turned back to your Ipad and the keynote you had prepared for the talk to introduce Mr. Jang to JYP and Stray Kids. Likewise, you wanted to introduce the concepts for the music video to maybe get him to invest in other projects as a sponsor as well.

"Yea, 'Nice'... I'm sure she's not just trying to be 'nice' to you", you muttered, not lifting your eyes from the Ipad.

Your annoyed tone made Chan raise his eyebrows and he exchanged an amused look with Seungmin.

"Are you jealous, Y/N?", came from Seungmin then and your gaze shot up and inevitably met Chan's curious face. Immediately you felt caught and you quickly shook your head.

"No. Why should I? You can do whatever you want with whomever you want."

There was your gaze fixed on your screen again. The blush rose in your cheeks and you couldn't bear Chan's knowing expression and Seungmin's piercing eyes.

"She's pretty. Why don't you ask her for her number?", you then said to dispel the awkward silence and to proof your point.

Even though the sentence was painful just to say it, you put on a carefree smile and looked Chan straight in the eye. But he only grinned wider and wider and took two big steps towards you.

"Why should I? I'd much rather look at your pretty face."

The sudden change in his tone of voice, made you freeze and as you just looked up at him with wide eyes, he took your face in his hands and cupped your cheeks. His lips hovered close to yours and there was such softness in his eyes that you melted in his touch.

“What else should i want when i can look at that sexy body and those seductive eyes every day?”

His raspy voice almost made you gaps and now you wanted to sink to your knees for that man. Then the door opened and Ji-u stood before you again.

Whatever she wanted to say didn't come out and she just stared at Chan's hands holding your face close to his. Then she cleared her throat and Chan pulled back again, looking at her with a questioning smile.

"You can come in now. Mr. Jang is waiting for you."

With that, she gave Chan one last disappointed look and disappeared into the next corridor. A feeling of satisfaction spread through you. Chan escorted you into the room with one hand on your back and Seungmin stood to your right.

The first thing you noticed was the huge window front through which you could look over the whole city. In the center of the room was a massive desk that looked intimidating compared to the chairs in front of it.

Sitting at the desk was Mr. Jang, who stood up to greet you. He was an older man, in his mid-50s, wearing a suit that probably costed more than your apartment.

He had short hair, a serious face, and ice-cold eyes that were right on you as you walked in. Then he turned to Chan and Seungmin, bowed and greeted them.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Bang, Mr. Kim. It's nice to finally meet you."

The two also greeted him and put on their most charming smiles.

But he hardly paid any attention to you. You watched in amazement as he offered the two of them a seat. Seungmin looked at you in confusion for a moment as Mr. Jang addressed you for the first time with a disgusting toothpaste smile.

"Darling, be so kind and get me a coffee!"

Completely perplexed, you followed his gaze and discovered the coffee machine standing right behind him. He would just have to take a step back.

"I think you can do that yourself! The coffee machine is right behind you", Seungmin said then and you could see Chan kicking his leg under the table.

But Mr. Jang just laughed.

"That's very true. I like your direct manner, buddy."

Not wanting to stand around the room any more awkward, you just put on a friendly smile and walked over to the machine.

"That's not a problem. I'm happy to do it."

With a few moves, the machine started making the coffee and that's when you heard Mr. Jang ask behind you:

"Can I offer you something too? A coffee or something else?"

Chan declined with thanks. You seemed to be invisible.

"We've already had a big breakfast today. But thank you for your effort!"

A direct lie. Chan never ate breakfast before meetings and Seungmin also often passed up a meal before important events.

Seungmin also declined and both boys began to get restless as Mr. Jang unashamedly looked at your body from behind as you stood by the coffee machine. His lustful look immediately made Seungmin sit up in his chair and Chan tensed his fists on the table.

With that, Mr. Jang seemed satisfied and when the cup was full, you went back over to the desk to set it down in front of the businessman.

"Thank you, sweetie", he said, and the look down your cleavage was equally not inconspicuous. But you ignored it, after all, you had to please him today to get the sponsorship. So close to him you smelled the expensive perfume burning your nose and saw that his fingers were overflowing with swanky rings.

"When is your manager coming?", he asked then, and the silence that followed was stifling. Chan only had his eyebrows drawn together and Seungmin's expression grew colder.

"I'm the personal manager of Stray Kids", you said with a put-on smile and he looked at you as if you had cracked a joke. When no one laughed, he looked to the boys and then back to you.

"You? Really? A girl? Aren't you a little... young?"

That explained his disgusting behavior. He had thought you were one of his little maids. However, he didn't seem to have too much respect for women in general. His eyes now roamed over your body and immediately you felt uncomfortable in your skin.

"She is the best at her job and therefore very well suited. We couldn't have gotten a better manager", Chan replied, pulling back the chair next to him so you could sit down.

Although he smiled and seemed friendly, you could see the anger just by the burn in his eyes and his jaw tightening as soon as Mr. Jang even looked your way. The rich producer was obviously a huge asshole and extremely horny.

As soon as you sat between the guys, you could feel Seungmin's hand resting on your thigh under the table. It seemed almost possessive and he was less adept at hiding his anger than Chan.

"You guys are really lucky with your employees then... I see why you hired her. But if you ever need a job, just come to me!“

You returned his tacky smile, but would have preferred to throw up.

"We're actually here today to talk about our comeback with you", Chan said, and you were incredibly grateful to him for changing the subject.

But eventually you managed to introduce the concept and explained all the important information to him. He listened attentively, asked questions, even though his interest was most of the time on your boobs. Every intrusive look from him became more uncomfortable and you became more and more angry.

Keeping a friendly face despite everything became increasingly difficult. But after what felt like an eternity, you finally came to an agreement and Mr. Jang announced that he would take over the music video project completely and would also be interested in future projects.

Even though this made you breathe a sigh of relief and it was a huge success, you felt terrible. Being treated so superficial by a man and at the same time not being able to do anything about it drove you crazy. You thought of the other young women who worked for him and probably had to endure this every day.

"I think we've settled everything for today. My secretary will mail you everything important, I will talk with my producer team and then we can start shooting the video and the teaser in the next weeks", he announced, standing up.

You all followed his lead and you noticed how Seungmin and Chan's tension dropped. You exchanged triumphant looks and Chan discreetly stroked your lower back with his hand, which gave you back a lot of strength.

The tension during the conversation had been noticeable. Seungmin had gritted his teeth so hard that you feared he would soon punch that disgusting snob straight in the face. He hadn't taken his hand off your thigh for a second, and you could feel the anger boiling inside Chan, too.

"Thank you! It's an honor to work with you", you said, squeezing out another sweet smile.

The corners of your mouth were already hurting, so much you had to force yourself not to just scream out loud.

"I'm thinking of becoming a permanent partner and sponsor of JYP. Maybe we can discuss more details over a coffee?"

This question was addressed directly to you and you could feel the air in the room drop several degrees. At that, he put a hand to your hip and pressed his business card into your hand. You had to suppress a wince when he touched you and Seungmin gave Chan an alarming look. However, he just stared at the sponsor's hand and would have loved to rip it right off.

->Part 8

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