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sugarverse · 7 months ago

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Hiii! I was wondering if I could request either long or short fic about Tenya Iida. Likes it can be set in a modern setting where's he's a senior college student who's majoring in business and he has to take one more class to get his degree. It just so happened that the class is in the art building, and it is figure drawing (aka nude drawing) . Since he's just now hearing of the extra class he has to take, he's suddenly shocked when the model is an old friend of his from back home, whom he had a childhood crush on. Not only does his feelings for her come back, but he also has to have 1 on 1 section with the model for educational purposes. I kinda want it to be smut and fluff or however you see it fit. Anyway, I hope it's enough+

hi babe! omg I love this idea I kinda went a lil crazy and made it way too long. I hope u enjoy :)!!

𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙣 𝙏𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧

word count: 3.5k

mentions of: This is really just the fluff portion of it, kinda suggestive bc he pops a boner and leads to sex in part two. I think I’m going to make a third part simply so the two of you can go on a genuine date andsotheresmoreiidaxblackreaderouthere.

a/n: hells yeah that’s enough, hopefully I did what ya asked and so sorry I went overboard I have serious problems. here’s the smut part bc a 6.7k fic is doing too damn much but i can’t stfu my fault gang

moodboard here!

Tenya Iida.

4th year, Senior in college majoring in International Business and minoring in Spanish at Angelwood College of Arts and Sciences.

The visual arts building had only been a few minutes away from the business side of campus, which he gladly enjoyed the walk. This spring all he needed to finish was two gen ed classes, the rest revolved around his major and minor. His counselor helped set up his ‘missing’ classes before winter break considering he had to fly back to Japan to see his family for the holidays. He was ecstatic to learn all he needed was an art class with lab and a communications class.

When he asked what the class entailed, all he was met with was “beginner artists learning anatomy.” It didn’t sound difficult, just draw what you see. It would be nice to try something new anyway. He was not much of an artist but like all things Tenya does, he planned to give this class his all. The first week had been pretty easy, learning how to draw what you see with the use of models, shapes, and lines. Nothing too hard to follow. He would practice drawing his friends on the sketchpad he bought specifically for the class as a form of studying in the free time he had.

He neverminded it for the most part, excelling his knowledge in different countries in his free time to get better at his major. Sure they could teach you the technical way to do things, but in the end, everyone is still human. It would be inconsiderate to do business with a country and know little to nothing about their culture! It took almost two weeks for him to finally be able to even start the art project anyway.

As time went on and the January snow grew less and less, it was time to start their first real project of the semester. One on One figure drawing. The class needed to fill out a form explaining their free hours due to the limited art space and everyone's different schedules. Tenya happily filled it out when it was posted, continuing to work on class work from the library so that the lecture room could also be used for said project.

Their professor had explained that in-person class would remain on Mondays and Thursdays. It just worked out better for the models and students to have so much space.

He made the small walk over to the arts building for his last class of the day, a small shine in his glasses as he entered the white light of the room. The walls were anything but bare, artwork and unfinished projects sat in every corner of the room. Paint racks, canvases big and small, even stacks of unused clay. There was a stool sitting on a small platform in the middle of the room, assuming where the model will sit.

He stood next to the stool for a moment, looking up at the grey February sky through the skylight. The natural lighting was great, almost like a spotlight. He adjusted the lights in the room a moment, dimming them slightly so the white light hadn’t been so harsh on his eyes. He headed over to a more organized table, setting out the art supplies how he liked. He knew he was early, but he wanted to make a good first impression. What’s better than being on time?

He pulled out his laptop, checking that the few assignments for today were done and submitted. A small frown tugged at his lips as he realized he hadn’t finished something completely, typing in the last few answers. He always double checked, technology was reliable.. When it wanted to be. He couldn’t hear the shuffle of slippers against the floor over his typing and frankly, loud thinking.

He could see someone walk past in a teal robe representing the university's colors. Glancing up from the computer to give the model a proper hello, Tenya opens his mouth to speak but pauses.

“Y/n?” He asked, almost in a whisper in case he was wrong. A small look of confusion caused him to tilt his head to the side slightly. He hadn’t been able to see you for awhile with such busy schedules, but he knew your silhouette by heart.

You turn at the sound of your name, mid sliding off the slippers and fumbling with the gold silk of the belt. “Tenya?” You smile, asking as you turn to slide your shoes back on and quickly shuffle your way over to him. He felt his face burn red, frozen in place for a moment with his jaw slack. He stood as if needing to detach from the seat, smiling at your happy demeanor and your quickness to wrap your arms around him.

“It is you! I know those shoulders from anywhere!” You beamed, feeling his hovering hands slowly place themselves on your back to return the hug. He was very hesitant, simply because you were only in a robe. You pull away, hands resting on your hips and giving him a big smile. “Now what are you doin’ taking a figure drawing class, Mister businessman?”

He let out a sheepish chuckle, “I needed an art credit, W-What are u doing here?” He never had any classes with you at Angelwood, A few honors classes and gym in highschool but other than that, nada. Throughout the course of growing up, your interests drove you to different classes.

However, classes don't matter when your families are as close as yours and the Iida family. Shared Holidays, playdates, game nights.. It wasn’t like you were some stranger. You both always made time to hang out a few times during the year to catch up without the family just to give a real check on each other. It was his favorite, almost like a mini holiday to talk to you.

He loved spending time with you. You were smart, articulated and incredibly creative. You never took slack from anyone.. Even in middle school he can remember you being the one to stand up and say something when things weren’t right. You were headstrong and determined in anything that you did.. Art majors always get a lot of grief but you never let that deter you. And that was admirable in itself! ..And he had always thought you were so pretty.

He felt like a kid again, heart feeling as if it’d beat out of his chest at the mere sight of you. It had been around Halloween the last time he saw you, and here it was. Almost Valentine's day.. Still as pretty and bright as he remembered. Your next hangout wasn't for another month or so, so it was nice to see you sooner than that.

“I'm your model, silly!” You head over to the stool, continuing to speak. “The art department asked if I’d help in modeling and I said yes! People were too scared to sign up for the most part. I’m surprised this is the class you picked. Did you want to learn how to draw people?” You slide your slippers off once more, untying the cute bow on your hip that held your robe shut.

Suddenly the room was very hot and he couldn't breathe. Now his heart really WAS beating out of his chest. He quickly did a 180, shielding his eyes and removing his glasses for extra measure. “WHY– do yoU have.. nothing on underrrrneath?” He croaked, voice cracking as his tone raised slightly.

You tilt your head at such a question, the gears clicking a little later than they should have. “Figure drawing is um.. Nude drawing, Tenya. You didn't know that?” You slide the robe back on, giggling at the flustered man across from you. You could see his shoulders tense, shaking his head slowly.

Now how the fuck could he have missed that.

“I um.. No, I didn't. I thought that it was.. I don't know what I thought. My counselor picked it for me and I.. Most models we've used so far have.. had skin colored undergarments… On.” He let out a nervous laugh, keeping his glasses off. He turns around, cleaning them with the end of his shirt but refusing to look up at you. He needed to mentally prepare his brain to be professional in a situation like this. Not that he minded the glance, he just never thought this would be how..

You prop your feet onto the edge of the stool, interrupting his thought. You held your knees up to your chest so he couldn’t see anything but your bare legs. “Oh Ten, I’m sorry! I can ask someone else to-”

“No! I am perfectly.. capable. It's professional and I can be.. professional..” He put his glasses back on, hand refusing to be steady as he did so. He let out a shaky sigh, smiling at you and finally looking at you once more.

You let out a small laugh at the blush on his cheeks. He was so handsome, but to see him so flustered over little ol’ you? It made your week. “We can start slow, that might help.” you slide the robe down your shoulders, slowly putting your legs back down so he could see your robed torso once more. You stopped at the top of your breasts, letting your collarbone show. “Do you have any specific poses..?” You ask quietly, trying to hold back your amusement.

He sits down, red faced and completely flushed. A nude model.. jeez. From sleepovers to recess, studying together to graduating, and now almost graduating for the final time together. That's something you don’t get to have in every lifetime. But why do these thoughts keep coming back to him now?

There was no way he could still have romantic feelings for you. He’d never put your friendship at risk like that!

..right?

“I um.. yeah, small.” He cleared his throat, “Could you um.. Could you stand slightly off of the um.. Almost like getting up?” He fumbled over his words, staring at the empty paper as if he could burn the quick image in his brain onto the page to get the embarrassment over with. He sighed once more, trying to focus as he began sketching circles and lines as a starter sketch of the pose he wanted.

“When you need to draw a certain part I'll move it, Sound fair?” You ask, resting one foot onto the stool and one onto the ground. Your hand gripped the seat as your butt sat on the edge, similar to when people do that supposedly hot thing where they throw their head back and pull some weird rope to have water get poured on them.

It was second nature at this point for people to see you. Of course some of them were flustered and it was pretty awkward at first, but normally not to the point of stuttering and stammering. It wasn’t often that you saw Tenya fall apart, but this was way different. Especially considering you flashed him without warning. He was one of the most endearing people you had ever met, there was no way you would have done that without proper context.

He could only nod in response, not wanting to further make a fool of himself. Lightly tapping the pencil against the table, He looks up at you. “You can um.. re.. remove the top part, y/n..” It was hard to simply draw your arms and collarbone without including the robe, so you might as well rip the band-aid off and start with the top.

You nod, dropping it happily and letting the robe pull around your hips and between your legs. You close your eyes, facing up toward the skylight in an attempt to make him less nervous. “Sorry for flashing you at first, I would have explained but I assumed you had already known..?” You laugh quietly to yourself at your own mistake. Why would someone like him even take this class if he knew what it actually entailed?

And God, did he feel like a pervert staring at your chest like this. The boner poking his thigh almost immediately didn't help, making it even harder to concentrate. Way to keep composure. He pressed his lips together for a moment before speaking. “I had no idea, I’m sorry for my r..reaction.” He answered, stopping the pencil tapping to actually begin sketching more than just circles and lines. He hadn’t meant to yell, but he felt like he was close to passing out.

“I think it was a pretty valid one.” You send a reassuring smile his way, seeing him send you one right back. Trying to ease the mood, you look back up at the ceiling and close your eyes to avoid staring at the ugly overcast sky above you. “How was winter break? You get to go home and see your family? How are they?”

His smile grew wider at your question, scooting under the desk a bit more so that you hopefully wouldn’t notice his body reacting. “They’re great, Tensei is getting married soon,” He sounded excited at the thought alone, incredibly proud of his brother.

“And my mother has started a hobby making soap, if you can believe it. She sent me some to bring back one that smells like lavender and another that smells like oranges mixed with I believe she said papaya.? She made a coconut smelling one for you– I was going to give it to you the next time we saw each other,”

The sound of his sketching stopped and started as he spoke, giving your body small glances as he tried to study each part of your upper torso. The way your stomach creased, The way your shoulder was slightly lifted causing your collarbone to be more prominent, the curve of your breasts.. “How was your Holiday, y/n?”

“No way, Tensei is getting married?!” You accidentally stop posing, fully facing him in genuine shock. The robe was still covering your lower half, you had tied the belt to avoid accidentally flashing him again but here we are. You watch his face become even more red, eyes very obviously not meeting yours but still like a deer in headlights.

You quickly get back to posing how you were, “Sorry Ten, That's amazing!! I hope everything goes smoothly for him and his soon to be wife.. And tell your mommy I said thank you for thinking of me. I can't wait to try it!”

A smile stayed on your lips as you thought about the times you’ve spent in the Iida household. His mother always had the best candles and incense burning, you were positive the soap would be the same. “My family is up to the same old shit, you know them..” You let out a small groan, the holidays weren’t an absolute disaster, but after not being home so long makes you remember why you aren’t going to school anywhere near home.

“I did get some cool stuff for Christmas though! I got some new clothes and they got me a few art kits. You know, where it teaches you how to crochet? I also have a new diamond painting kit, I haven't opened either yet because it's just been so busy.” You replied, tapping your fingers on the side of the stool where your hand sat.

You look up once more, this time because the skylight was beginning to be covered in snow. You watched as it fell, thinking back to old times when you and Tenya would spend the last three major holidays with each other. You’d always make sure to trick or treat together, your families have been sharing Thanksgiving for as long as you can remember, and spending the night in your basement on Christmas eve to wait for Santa until you were both too old. Then instead of waiting for Santa, you’d all eat at least one meal together on Christmas day. Sometimes homemade breakfast, other times a small trip to IHOP or Waffle House.

“God damn it.. It’s snowing again..” You let out a small laugh, looking over at him over your shoulder, fingers still tapping away at the base of the stool. “Hey Ten, Do you remember when we used to have those big snowball fights? The one near Red Fern?”

“Of course I do! You refused to wear any kind of gloves and my mother would make you at least put socks on your hands so you didn’t get frostbite!” The two of you shared a small laugh at the memories of being young and dumb.

“Gloves always made my hands too itchy! They still do– But I kicked your ass in snowball fights with gloves or not.” You retort, a smirk appearing on your face. “Ice queen y/n of everything.” You could remember the insane snowball fights the neighborhood kids would have every. time. It snowed. If there was enough to make a few snowballs, there was enough to start a war. Tenya was always on your team, but it never stopped you from throwing a few his way. The ‘winner’ was King or Queen of the hill and first to sled down, which often enough was you.

“Remember when you almost broke my glasses throwing one right at my face?” He snickered, watching your smirk turn into a small pouty frown. He knew you didn’t mean to, that same day you helped your mom make cookies for him and his family as an apology, even though he wasn’t upset to begin with. But you knew it could have broken his glasses and you would be devastated if you were the reason for it. You were a real sweetheart, even if you had a weird way of showing sometimes.

“Hey! You know that wasn’t on purpose, I felt really bad after! I even let you get me back!” Which was true, but he never aimed for your face. Always a spot on your fluffy coat, never your legs because you hated your pants being wet… and a face shot just felt wrong to him.

“Yeah, Yeah. I remember that part too,” He smiled to himself. “Those were really good times.. I remember Tensei always bringing us hot chocolate and we’d sit on your porch and draw things in the snow..”

“Oh! And when we’d come back all wet and mom already had spare clothes in her hands because she didn’t want it on the carpet. We’d put on too big clothes just to sit and watch Christmas movies..” You missed those times. But they never really had to stop, you two could have a huge snowball fight after this if you wanted to and the snow stuck. Was he too grown for that? Would it even sound fun to him?

“Do you still watch A Year Without Santa Clause every year?” He asks, breaking your train of thought. You nodded quickly at his question, grinning like a maniac. “Of course I do! And I watch Charlie Brown’s Christmas, Rudolph The Rednosed Reindeer.. And sometimes Spongebob's Christmas Special. Do you still watch old Christmas cartoons?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Don’t wanna ruin tradition.” He answered, pressing his lips together slightly as he stared down at the paper. You can tell he freezes a bit, the sound of his scribbling coming to a stop. He set the pencil down, rubbing the sweat of his hands onto his thighs.

“You can um.. remOove-..” He quickly cleared his throat, “The rest.” He let out a disappointed sigh at his inability to keep composure. This wouldn't be half the problem it was if it was someone else modeling. But this is you we're talking about.

“You sure? If you need a minute we can take a break, honey.” You gave him a sympathetic look, still smiling but this time more.. warm. The kind of smile someone gives to another when they genuinely care for them. Or love them for that matter. He adored it, it was the same smile you'd give him when saying he needs to take a break, the same smile you give him when the two of you out to get coffee and catch up. The same smile he's fallen for many, many times.

But to tell you the truth? It’s driving him crazy. All of this. Was driving him crazy. No matter how hard he tried to be professional, he could stop his wandering mind. You were a goddess. What else was there to do besides take a break and hopefully release some steam in the bathroom or something. Completely inappropriate, but the pain from being hard for so long was starting to cloud the best judgment.

He looks down at the sketch so far, then back to you as he rubbed his hand upward against his face. It pushed his glasses up, causing them to be crooked when going back down. “I um.. I think I do.. need a minute.” His voice died out as he watched you slide the robe back on, words failing him because couldn’t think completely straight.

© if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot and helps me out. Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!

thank you @thecutestgrotto for the banners and thank you @fizzintine for coloring the top pic!

have a good day/night/whatever!

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awrkive · 5 months ago

Text

[TEASER] CATCH YOUR WAVE (m) — JJK.

the last thing you expected when you strolled into your new school is to become the favorite project of the 5’11” tatted-up overly enthusiastic, golden-retriever-in-human-form PE teacher, jeon jungkook. he’s all goofy grins, bad math puns, and relentless charm, while you’re busy pretending you’re immune to his antics... spoiler alert: you’re not. and that infuriates you.

alternatively, jungkook tries to prove that opposites don’t just attract — they collide. a classic case of one plus one equals: “oh, no. i like him.”

PAIRING jeon jungkook x (female) reader

GENRE r18+ (fuff, slight angst, mature content) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

WORD COUNT ~15k (still working around the final wc)

TEASER WORD COUNT 1.8k words

WARNINGS/MISC teachers!au, pe teacher!jk, math teacher!reader, seven!jungkook, himbo!jk, coworkers!au (works in the same school), oc gets kinda mean sometimes but jungkook likes it lmfao, extremely corny pick up lines.. he tries 💔 2000s romcoms references (sorry) warnings for this teaser: nothing major. just bad math puns delivered by himbo jungkook :')

NOTES inspired by the whole “can she gaf me💔” vibes in the seven mv (by jungkook) and ultimately the click five’s song, catch your wave (hence the title🥸 pls listen to the song for the whole vibes hehe <3). ive been wanting to write himbo jk for awhile bcs all my jks are like … smart so far so i thought wait we need to change that. gahhhh im so so freaking excited ive been thinking about writing this ever ever since i wrote that one himbo jk drabble 💃🏼

[ CYW MOODBOARD ] • [ MAIN MASTERLIST ]

RELEASE DATE 2025, JUNE xx | 01:00 AM KOREAN STANDARD TIME (GMT+9)

They say life is a balance of good and bad days, and you’re not a pessimistic person, but sometimes enough is enough. How is your week already this bad when it’s just barely started?

Sunday morning, when you picked up your laundry from the shop, you were too late to realize that you mixed not just one but two white underwear with the colored loads. You’d blame it on the fact that they were too tiny, too flimsy for you to notice. But you know you should’ve double-checked before putting them in the machine. And now you have lost two panties. And in this economy? That shit cost a ton.

When Monday came and the head of the Math Department informed you there was a sudden shift in your schedule for the semester, it meant that instead of teaching three Algebra classes for tenth graders, you’re also teaching pre-Algebra for eighth graders, meaning you’re gonna have to cross the long walk from the high school building to the middle school one, the latter being all the way to the left wing, completely the opposite side of the right wing where the faculty room and your initial classes are.

Today, you’ve woken up with your WiFi not connected to the internet (something you have to talk to your landlord about when you come back home) and just two minutes ago, you realized you forgot to take your coffee order with you from the cafe across your school building, the sad garlic bread you bought along with it staring right at you without its beloved beverage pair.

Truthfully, it might be your last straw. How the hell is this happening to you out of all people? The semester is just starting, for god’s sake, and you’re already hanging on by a thread.

You take a deep breath on your seat before standing up from your cubicle, heading to the coffee machine by the snack bar.

You hate the coffee here. Whatever brand they keep on stocking the pantry with, it’s too naturally sweet – and you don’t like your coffee with sugar.

But you have no choice but to make do. The cafe’s too far out and your first class starts in about twenty minutes.

“Good morning, Ms. Math Genius – ready to crunch some numbers today?”

As if this day couldn’t get any worse, you shut your eyes close for a moment when you hear the familiar voice.

You stir your coffee with downturned lips.

“Only if you promise to flex those brain muscles—” You say, turning to look to the side. Much to your expectation, it’s Jeon Jungkook, leaning casually against the wall with that usual faux suave he keeps on around you – which you can’t take seriously because his big doe eyes tell you a completely different story. He’s wearing some Nike dri fit shirt, one that’s too tight around his chest and accentuates a comparatively tiny waist that you have to force your eyes upwards. But as they do, they land on the biceps that are straining against the poor material. It wasn’t lost on you though that one second after, they’re suddenly flexing. You arch your brow as you glance a look on his face. “—as much as you flex those biceps.”

Jungkook’s lips curl into a huge grin, expecting the jab.

“You know it!” He chuckles, running his fingers through his bangs. “I’m all about solving problems, and I’d say my favorite equation is you plus me equals a perfect start to the day.”

You fight a loud groan from escaping your lips as soon as he says that, giving him a certain look before shaking your head and going back to your coffee.

But you should’ve known better by now, because Jungkook – aside from being a PE teacher extraordinaire and every student’s favorite at that, Thee Football Coach, 5’11” tatted brunette with a long, fluffy hair paired with an objectively, annoyingly attractive face – is persistent.

Most especially when it comes to annoying you.

A few steps, and then you feel him getting closer to you.

“Did you know that—”

You roll your eyes. That’s it. If it’s another one of his corny math pick-up lines again you swear to god—

“Jungkook, you don’t have to keep doing this everyda—”

“—we’re like parallel lines?”

“What.”

“Did you know that we’re like parallel lines?” Jungkook repeats earnestly, just like he always does. When he’s up in your personal space like this, it’s easy to get a waft of his cologne – and your annoyance could’ve been justified if he smelled like shit but somehow, even though he looks like he just got back from a run judging by his running shoes and gym bag, he still smells… okay.

Just okay. As in, you don’t care how good he smells like or how he smells at all.

You make sure to keep that thought at the back of your head.

“No.” You say, hoping to dismiss the conversation right there as you pick up the cup of coffee from the machine, ready to turn on your heel, but then Jungkook laughs ever so slightly and gives your arm a barely-there poke.

“Come on, entertain me a little.”

You squint your eyes at him. He challenges your stare with a growing smile on his face. Scoffing, you roll your eyes again before you put the paper cup back on the table. With a sigh, you cross your arms and look at Jungkook. For a split second, his eyes cast downwards to your chest level but he quickly snaps out of it.

“Okay… we’re like parallel lines… why? Because we’ll never meet?” You say in response to his little request, keeping your tone impassive.

Jungkook’s eyes slowly widen at your words, smile slowly dropping – as if the logic of your words have ruined one of his million pick-up lines again.

“I– no! What? I meant, we’re like, always running to each other! Side by side. Parallel lines.”

“Okay… so still never meeting?” You ask impatiently, brows furrowing.

Jungkook mirrors your confusion. Then, he raises a hand, one finger up. “One second. I’ll fix this–” he takes his phone out from his pocket, types on it quickly, lip jutting out as he reads whatever he’s looking up, and then, “Ohh, I might have meant asymptote lines. We’re like asymptote lines.”

Your face contorts into even deeper confusion. Holy shit, you’re not dealing with this very early on in the morning, especially not after the circumstances of the past hours.

“Asymptote lines are more depressing than parallel lines if we’re talking metaphorically.”

Jungkook squints his eyes at you, suspicious. “Are you sure?”

“I would hope I know my lines, Jungkook. I teach them everyday.”

He laughs again, eyes crinkling at the corners cutely, and you hate how that tugs something at your heartstrings.

You catch yourself right at that moment.

Jeon Jungkook is not cute. You keep in mind. He’s not cute.

Jungkook thinks you’re so cute. Gorgeous, most of all, and unbelievably so. You and your signature furrowed brows and pink pouty lips.

As usual, you have your hair up in a clean bun today, and Jungkook can smell the lace of sweet vanilla from you as he takes a step closer to get a cup for himself.

He loves the coffee here. Whatever brand they keep stocking the pantry with, it’s sweet as fuck. Just like how Jungkook likes his caffeine dose. Kind of like you, he thinks.

Jungkook casts a quick glance at you again, can't really help himself when you're so pretty, although he makes sure to be subtle about it.

You’re wearing another one of your pencil skirts, one that he has to avoid staring at for longer than three seconds lest his mind takes him too far – but the upper view is even more of a torture, unfortunaly for him. Because as much as you wear the same outfit every single day and it should mean that Jungkook should get used to it by now, he can never be immune to your silk long sleeves, where you keep the top three buttons open – and as much as Jungkook tries to pry his gaze away from the exposed skin down from your neck, it’s like there’s a strange force in the universe that keeps him on it. Doesn’t really help that you like crossing your arms under your chest, too, making his mind run a mile per minute at the thoughts that form inside his head when a very apparent cleavage shows—

Alright. Damn. It’s like 8 am.

And you were saying something about lines…

“Yeah? I hope you can teach me too, I need to—”

“Goodbye, Mr. Jeon.” You cut him off before he can even finish his sentence, taking your coffee with you as you head to the direction of your cubicle.

The nickname makes Jungkook’s lips curl up. He probably shouldn’t smile, given that you only ever call him that when you want to cut the conversation with him short. But he can’t help it, it sounds sweet coming from your pretty lips.

In an attempt to not look like a fool, Jungkook bites his lip as he watches your disappearing figure, your heels clicking on the floor as you walk away. Your legs look so long in that grey pencil skirt, and it really should be criminal how you look like that even when you’re just showing your back.

In his trance, he forgets about the brewing coffee in his cup and absentmindedly takes it out while the machine is still running, the hot liquid pouring from the nozzle quickly burning the skin on his finger.

“Oh, shit!” He hisses, jumping from the shock, almost knocking his coffee out but thankfully he manages to catch it on time, just as when another member of the faculty walks by the snack bar.

With an awkward smile, Jungkook raises a thumbs up to Mrs. Lee.

“Good morning, Mrs. Lee. Looking rad as always.” He cheerfully greets, and Mrs. Lee’s confusion from seeing him fumble with his cup earlier quickly turns into a coo.

“Oh, Mr. Jeon, you charming kid. I was just gonna get my cup of coffee.” She says, walking towards his direction.

Jungkook adjusts the strap of his gym bag to his shoulder and takes a cup for Mrs. Lee with a grin, making her smile.

She thanks him and with a playful salute, Jungkook goes toward the general direction of his cubicle, and because the PE department and Math department are just across from each other, he walks past you, typing something on your iPad before you look around and catch his gaze.

Jungkook automatically waves, smiling brightly, but you only frown, shutting your iPad close and ignoring him.

Amused, Jungkook tries to fight off a huge grin, taking a few long strides to get to his own cubicle.

His day is already off to a good start.

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook imagines #jungkook fic #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fluff #bts fanfic #awrkive #p; writing

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kithtaehyung · 2 months ago

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seven days (monday) | jjk

title: monday series: seven days: masterlist | prologue pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x reader(f) genre/rating: m (18+) ; angst , fluff ; roommates to lovers au summary: after a long ass day at work, all you wanna do is sleep. but jungkook has made dinner reservations, and this whole bet is off to a rocky start. warnings: a whole lot of sass (jk and reader), hand holding??, yes that is a warning, jk wears a tank, tension, embarrassment, snide comments, kookie is too fine and it HURTS!!, leather, dance king jk, reader bby is stressed as hell TT, roommates to idiots, anxiety, overthinking, kissing (????), general cuteness bc this jk is a loser and i love him :(((, reader is a queen, i wanna fight this jungkook but what's new lol notes: 7days is back on the menu, chatttttt!!! if you've been waiting since forever i wanna see hands up in the audience hahaha notes 2: just a little extra warning here but he’s unbelievably confident in this one yet a big softie and it HURTS😩 drop date: april 28th, 2025, 9:13pm est word count: 11k🗯️🗯️ taglist: sign up here (i check every entry so read the rules!)

Monday is gnawing on your final straw.

Meetings, reports, decisions—everything has warning signs attached and you’re quite close to heeding them and finding the nearest exit. Literally, figuratively, and expeditiously.

Fuck.

That means you might have to job hunt soon. For two jobs to compensate for how much you’re making now.

Why, oh why, did you choose the condo you did? And why did you pick a condo in the first place? Apartments would have been just fine for your needs and you could’ve been saving more for a fallout like this.

Well. You know the answer to that first question.

And it’s an answer you don’t regret.

Thinking back to that day, you still remember the way the lobby looked. How plants lined glass walls, how people occupied various mid-century chairs like they were paid background extras in a film.

More specifically, you remember seeing a vaguely familiar boy barrel through the revolving doors, dark locks whizzing about and paper clutched tight in his tatted hand.

Ignoring you entirely, he cut the line just as you were about to inquire about a tour—everyone including the concierge pinning him with disgust.

“Back of the line, Mr. Jeon.”

“She can wait, just—”

Your memory spun with that even more familiar last name, but you still couldn’t quite place where you knew this asshole from.

“—and I have it here. Also, why are you calling me th—”

“The rent is already way past due. We’re listing your unit.”

“Anj.”

“Mr. Jeon.”

“You know I have the money.” He sounded so rushed. So desperate. “I just forgot cus my roommate left—”

“You forgot for three weeks—”

“I was helping them move that whole time!”

Sighing, you checked your phone and determined you were gonna give it two more minutes until you trekked to another building.

But you had heard a mountain of good things about the place, and that particular day was the only free one you had to check it out.

So you waited. Because anything would beat staying in a cramped apartment with someone that clipped their toenails on a weeping living room table.

“Look. I have two months’ rent right here, plus extra.” Hair still frazzled, so-called Mr. Jeon hastily slapped his paper down before sliding it forward. “And I can even live by myself if I need to.”

“Doesn’t matter if you have the money or not,” Anj explained, voice as snipped as her fresh bangs. “The unit’s already listed in the system.”

“Since when?”

A merciless click echoed from her keyboard, and you knew exactly what was coming before she hammered home,

“Now.”

“Anjali…”

You tried so hard to hide your face.

If anything, you scored a jackpot in people watching that day. Observing the interaction, you wondered what the hell this man did to the concierge to get this pathetic but hilariously hostile treatment.

“Sorry, Mr. Jeon. You can apply for it again,” she offered with a flit of her hand, “If none of these nice, patient people in line take it.”

Just like that, it was the final, abrupt end of the battle. The defeated dropped his head back in loss before reclaiming his paper with a sad flourish.

And to this day, you don’t know what compelled you to speak up when you did. But you will always remember the reactions to your curiosity,

“What does it look like?”

Both him and Anjali whipped their heads so fast you froze. While the concierge appeared shocked, there was something in that boy’s eyes that strangely matched how you felt.

Did you look familiar to him, too?

A ping from your computer kicks you back to the present, and your rapid blinks make you realize you’ve been spacing out at your desk for minutes now.

But you notice that the alert’s for the end of your shift, and you quickly wrap everything up before heading home.

Straight back to the very condo you secured to save Mr. Jeon Jungkook’s ass.

Sleep.

That’s all you need right now.

Beautiful, wonderful, ever-evasive sleep.

But the only thing you get when you unlock the door is a flurry of activity, wave of music, and skittering of paws.

“There you are!” Your roommate yells as your legs are knocked by his furry companion. “Hurry and get ready!”

When you shout back a droning rejection, Jungkook splashes the hallway with the most disrespectful tank and jeans you’ve ever seen him wear.

Fuck, he’s flipping on a leather jacket over his shoulders, too? Your purse immediately slips from yours.

Nope. He needs to stay where he is. There’s no reason for him to keep walking closer but he’s doing it anyway goddamn it you don’t have the brain capacity for this!

“Didn’t you read my texts?”

“No,” you readily admit, moving to reach your room before Jungkook can block your path.

Too late.

Damn, his cologne is fantastic.

It almost distracts you from the way he casually leans on your door. And the way his voice drops a whole octave when he reveals,

“I’m taking you to dinner, remember?”

The butterfly on your heart is shooed away. “Where?”

“Not telling.”

“Seriousl—”

“But we gotta leave soon.”

Your bed is so close. And yet so, so far.

But damn, whatever Jungkook’s wearing proves way too enticing. You almost fold on its grip alone. Is this a new scent? Is he trying something different?

Nope, focus. You want—need—sleep.

With a sliver of hope, you reach for an out, “Does it have to be tonight? I just wanna be in bed.”

“I’m not opposed to that.”

“Jeon.”

Wait. Is that the first time Jungkook’s said something like that to you? Sure, you’ve both been suggestive with each other before, but that? That felt…

“I’m kidding!” He laughs, though his eyes are revealing truer angles. To your relief, though, the saucy reaction is short lived, giving way to a regular yet pitied tone,

“The next open slot is in two months.”

What the hell? Where the fuck are you going? “You mean I got five minutes to prep for some fancy place I can’t know the name of?”

“Uhh, no.” When Jungkook backtracks down the hall, his steps are as fast as his corrections, “You have two. And you don’t have to dress nice!”

“But you—!”

The speed demon is back in his room before you can hound him.

Muttering to no one, you agree with his last statement, “Good, cus I will not.”

Well. You know two things.

One: there’s no way this man is lasting ten days at this rate, much less seven.

And two: there’s absolutely no way you’re dressing up for whatever this is. Too much chaos went down at work for you to care about a fake dinner date with Jungkook.

You’re going for the food the food the food. Nutrients, sustenance, anything that satisfies the tiger that you are not paying a pet deposit for.

This better be worth the exhaustion.

Pushing your door open, you immediately take big strides towards your awaiting closet, already knowing exactly what you’re gonna wear.

Reservations two months out? As if.

How nice can this place really be?

Fucking opulent, apparently.

This is where Jungkook meant when he said there was a place he wanted to try? The most expensive, lavish, influencer-riddled establishment in the city?

When you recognize the damn near estate you’re pulling up to, you regret not caring about appearances and start sweating in your joggers.

This whole bet is a prank!

Because your roommate most definitely saw you for a whole minute before you both rushed out of the condo. How could you not remember? He eyed you as soon as you re-entered the hall to join him, and the back of your neck still has leftover chills from his steady staring.

That whole time he saw what you were wearing and he didn’t say shit? “Kook, what the fuck?”

“What?”

“This is the place you wanted to try?”

As Jungkook rolls up to the valet line, you get an annoying display of long fingers on his steering wheel.

So you look out the dark window instead.

“Nah, I just wanted to take you here. There’s a dessert place I wanna try after,” he explains with a smirk, little pieces of your sanity littering his passenger seat. “Don’t worry, I’m paying.”

Though you’re thankful he’s footing the bill—because you did not budget for shelling out a whole check tonight—you still sputter while taking in all the beautiful, pressed outfits walking inside. “It’s—I would’ve—Fuck, why didn’t you tell me I’m underdressed?”

They may not even let you in with what you’re wearing.

“Relax, roomie,” Jungkook pips, which stresses you the hell out. “I’m not dressed up either but they know me. We’re good.”

Lies. He is a liar and the heat behind your eyes will set his pants ablaze. “They know you.”

“Uh huh.”

When it’s your car’s turn, crisp uniforms rush around as you brace for utter shame. Not even the new car smell that still lingers in Jungkook’s car can keep you calm.

Thank everything holy that you fixed yourself above neck. That one split second decision saves you a sliver of embarrassment.

But you’re still in fucking sweatpants and sneakers. And a humongous hoodie.

God.

There’s no way this isn’t a set up.

No matter what, you’re holding yourself in high regard tonight. And that starts with greeting the valet with a bright smile as he opens your door, “Thank you so much.”

“You’re very welcome, Ms. Jeon.”

Miss what.

Your manufactured grin has some defects as you nod, gripping your bag as you exit the vehicle. When you turn, you see your current annoyance chatting it up with the other valet, wind pushing your sweater into your increasingly sweaty back.

Huh. They do look chummy.

Was Jungkook actually being serious?

“Have a good night, Mr. Jeon!”

“Thanks, Dio! Take good care of her, yeah?”

“As always.”

Between witnessing the valet talking to your roommate as if they were friends, and having said roommate’s last name thrust upon your person, you can only stare.

This is so weird.

But you click back into focus as Jungkook moves to join you, channeling all the energy you usually harness for professional outings and executive dinners.

Because even though you don a calm expression, you waste no time clutching his offered arm extra tight. Contempt buries itself in your low comment, “You’ve got some nerve, Kook.”

“Thanks!”

“Not a compliment.”

“Ouch.”

As you stroll through the grand entrance, you flare with conflicting feelings when he softly pulls you close. Subtle hints of luxury wisp into your nose, which compete with the warm feeling of his body feeling so solid against yours.

Heavens above.

Unbothered, he whispers back, “You’ll thank me after we eat.”

“I look like shit.”

“You’re perfect tonight, Ms. Jeon.”

Nope. No, no, no, you will not acknowledge the fluttering in your stomach. Absolutely not.

“Don’t call me that,” you seethe, smiling at the waiter before you’re led to your table.

And despite the stares you’re drawing, there’s something else that’s distracting you even more. Something that has your brain swiftly forgetting everything you’ve been fussing about.

Jungkook has lowered your arms so that he could lead.

By holding your hand.

His fingers feel so large around yours, his palm a strange but soothing mix of smooth and comfortable heat. Immediately, you feel a little more relaxed, which is strange considering you should be the exact opposite right now.

And as he guides you to sit in a chair that’s been pulled out for you, all you can do is follow in silence.

Because your fingers had fit so…

“Looks like they let anyone in here these days.”

Both your ears perk up before your fingers curl hard and fast.

Did you really just hear that? Did they really have to say something when you’re in a shit mood? Because they’re the next table over and therefore within launching distance so now you have to do something about it—

“Well, yeah,” Jungkook pounces before you do, snagging your look of confusion and signaling for you to follow along. When he rests leather forearms on tablecloth, he pins the couple with a cheeky smile. “That’d be pretty shitty if they didn’t let you two in, right?”

Okay. Staring at long, tatted fingers flexing before tightening into a fist, you have to admit: anyone defending your pride is hot as fuck.

And Jungkook being the one to do it?

All thoughts you’re thinking have no place at the table.

The man laughs as he gets up. “Sure,” he scoffs. “Enjoy the meal, kids. Filet’s the house favorite.”

“You sure?”

All eyes snap to your roommate.

Scratching the bottom of his jaw, Jungkook looks into the air, scrunching his brows ever so slightly in mock-thought. “Pretty sure it’s the tomahawk, but. Maybe it changed since last week—Eddie!”

Your eyes follow his stare behind you to see a staff member waving before heading over.

When he gets closer, you realize your roommate called over not a waiter… But a manager? On a first name basis?

Well, shit.

Your tongue pokes your cheek in high amusement. This couple next to you is lucky they just paid their bill or else they’d have to endure a whole meal of Jungkook sass. The man’s partner already looks like they’re gonna raise hell when they get in the car.

“Hello, Mr. Jeon! Always good to see you.”

Inwardly—and maybe also outwardly—you’re holding in your grin as they vacate before your super petty date can even get the clarification out,

“Same! House favorite is the filet now?”

“Ah, no. It’s still the tomahawk, but the ribeye’s also very popular.”

Jungkook calls out to the retreating couple instead of the guy in front of him, cupped hand bracing his cheekiness, “Thanks, Eddie! Good to know!”

When he shifts back in his seat, he watches Eddie check behind him before raising a brow. “Did they give you any trouble?”

“Nah.” Jungkook smiles at you before settling into his chair. “We got it.”

You can only blink, conflicting feelings warring in your stomach and making it spin. If you wanted to smile, it’s certainly coming out strained because that guy’s rude comment did catch you off guard.

To be fair, you are dressed up the most casual out of all the people here. But maybe your confidence is also weakened from the whole day, causing anything else to get a punch in. On top of the fact that you would never come here on your own unless you struck gold.

But that does beg another question.

Why does Jungkook look so at home this easily? His outfit is casual, too—leather jacket floating in a sea of suits and ties, for goodness sake. How does he do it? Has he actually been here that often?

Maybe it’s the way he carries an aura you have to fight to conjure on your best days.

“Will the lady be having the usual tonight, Mr. Jeon?”

Ah. Scratch that.

It’s because you’re the hundredth woman he’s taken here. And somehow all of you have been provided the same meal.

Just like that, the haze around your brain vaporizes, leaving you glaring at wide eyes.

So much for protecting your pride!

“Ah, umm,” Jungkook stutters, ears alight with embarrassment. “Not this time—I mean, no.”

Mm. At least you’re relishing the way he’s tripping over himself.

“Apologies,” Eddie rescinds, looking just as alarmed. Good. “Here’s our menu for tonight, and we have a few specials that you can view on the first page.”

“Thank you,” you answer for your roommate, and you feel avenged when he visibly knows he fucked up. Feeling cheeky, you fire off, “What is the usual for us Ms. Jeon’s, if I may ask?”

Both men freeze and seek each other before you get your stiff answer, “Ah, umm. Yes, our wedge salad, plain with house-made dressing on the side.”

“Great.”

As soon as you open your menu with finality, you can sense the tension radiating from your audience, inwardly proud of speaking out.

Because this whole bet, or prank, or whatever it is? It is not gonna go the way Jungkook thinks it will.

Even though a wedge salad with some accoutrements does sound pretty good. But who are you to back down now.

When Eddie moves away—or scurries, rather—you shoot lasers of disappointment over your dimly lit menu.

Which Jungkook very intentionally ignores.

But he’s not getting away that easily. If he’s gonna rope you into this mess, you’re gonna fight back.

“Charming start,” you mutter.

“Sorry.”

Looking up in earnest, you notice something odd about your fake date.

He looks… Genuinely upset. Borderline disturbed.

Well. It’s his fault in the end.

But is that really the expression of someone pranking their roommate? If it is, he could even pursue acting if his social media accounts don’t pop off.

Focus. Actually read the words on the menu instead of staring. What are you hungry for? Everything here looks and sounds amazing so it’s gonna be hard to choose…

Your eyes slide over your hardy pamphlet one more time.

And as Jungkook keeps watching the candle flick between you, something else stirs in your chest.

Acting or not, he’s quiet as fuck. Which is making you more uncomfortable than anything else because he just lit up confronting that couple for you.

A resigned sigh escapes your lips. “It’s okay.”

He lifts his gaze.

“But at this rate, you’re definitely losing this whole thing.”

His laugh doesn’t have his whole heart inside. “I just… I’m sorry. That wasn’t… Wasn’t cool.”

“We’re good,” you assure, your softer side clutching the reins for a moment. “I can play wifey if you’re paying, yeah?”

At this, Jungkook seems to lighten up a tad, though you catch a hint of what you’ll later realize is shyness. “Yeah,” he confirms with a slow drawl. “Get whatever you want, Ms. Jeon.”

“How considerate.”

“Anything for my date.”

Your brows pinch for a moment, and you quickly remind yourself of what just happened with the manager. “Rip. I’m definitely getting more than a salad.”

“I know,” Jungkook replies, palming his menu with a smirk on his lips. “Between the two of us we’re gonna blow my whole stack.”

“We’re getting apps?”

“And sides.”

“Wine?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“Hell yeah, bro.” Your mouth betrays you when it stretches sideways. But you can’t help it because this is where you’re comfortable. You’re not in an expensive restaurant on a date, you’re just having dinner with your roommate.

Your very attractive, super sauve, completely senseless roommate.

Pulling at your hoodie, you let your amusement loose as your shoulders finally relax, “Good thing I wore this then, huh?”

When Jungkook knowingly smiles with lips pressed, you feel like the only one in the room.

And maybe like you got the whole prank thing all wrong.

Damn.

Everything you’ve eaten so far has you transcended into a higher plane.

Truthfully, you can’t even recall a better meal than this, and the way Jungkook looks while he digs into his ribeye is how you feel inside. Satiated, content, and upset at how good the food tastes.

But it’s not just the meal that warms your belly. The small bits of talking and joking you’ve been having with him have helped you forget the multiple vibrations you feel in your purse. And the wine has certainly helped relax some tightly-wound muscles.

“Om mah guh,” you groan, this swallow as good as the last. “Can I live here instead?”

Your roommate laughs with a mouthful of food. “Mmhmm.”

“Good.” You reach for a sip of your drink, noticing that you’re both making good headway on all the plates. Taking a much needed break, you slump back in your increasingly comfortable chair before gazing at chandeliers. “Cus I think I just ate my month’s rent.”

“You aren’t even paying!”

“Oh, yeah.” You beam at shining bulbs. “Sucks for you.”

Jungkook’s laugh could be recognized miles away, you muse.

But good god.

Haughty establishment be damned. Even if one of these light fixtures crash onto a table, you’re still gonna be rubbing your grateful stomach and sporting a drool line.

Another quick puff of amusement shoots across the table, but you don’t get a response because a lighter voice floats above you instead,

“Hey, baby.”

Huh?

Brows furrowed, you leer down your nose before straightening, wondering who the heck is oh shit this woman is gorgeous. And tall.

Which makes Jungkook’s offhanded greeting so comical. “Sup!”

The girl seems unfazed, manicured nails caressing his shoulder. “You were supposed to call me tonight.”

Ouch. Did he double-book your date on a booty call with a goddess?

A mere wallflower, you silently pull out your phone as Jungkook reluctantly looks upward—and you know in your heart it’s because the bite on his fork was meticulously made. “Oh. Did I say that?”

“You said so last week.”

Yikes.

“I say a lot of things.”

Double yikes.

Your lips smush into a line of pity when you see a pair of eyes roll. Emotions seem to blend together in your ribcage now, but you really should care less. This isn’t a real date.

Regardless of how you feel, this lady could grace the cover of a magazine if she hasn’t already. Why hasn’t Jungkook abandoned your table to follow her out the door?

“Whatever, I guess. Have fun with your…” Sudden judgment makes you blink. “Friend.”

Triple yikes.

Good riddance! Forget anything you were thinking in her defense. She doesn’t deserve him with that sour attitude, and you’re completely saying this as his roommate. And friend. Duh.

You’re about to unleash some choice words before Jungkook simply smiles. “She’s my date,” he proclaims while looking right at… you? “And I will.”

Well.

That gesture was a little shocking.

But it could be staged. Is this girl just acting? Just another part of this bet?

Nah. There’s no way he would go through this elaborate of a prank just to mess with you. Right?

Right?

Jungkook finally takes that huge bite of his concoction as the woman hums and struts off, and you can’t help but blink at him. Once. Twice. Two more for good measure.

When he notices your bewilderment, a word is blocked by chewed protein, “What?”

“She was hot.”

“And?”

Something akin to pure disbelief shoots out of your nose. “You’re gonna pass that one up?”

As expected, you have to wait a second as he finally swallows. But you’re willing to do that because if he talks with a full mouth one more time you’re gonna—

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m with you.”

Gonna… You’re gonna…

What were you complaining about again?

Jungkook has to be kidding. He has to. For goodness sake, you’re a bloated mess in sweats and there are tons of tens walking around.

You’ve picked up on the stares. More than one person has given your roommate glimpses and double-takes. You’ve just ignored them because you were famished, tired, and knowing you won’t be doing this little stunt forever.

But after seeing how adamant Jungkook has been, you at least admire his commitment. The efforts shown tonight have been quite endearing.

Maybe you can start treating this like an actual date, too.

Leaning forward, you rest casual elbows on the table, shielding your chin with clasped palms. “If you’re serious… what do you usually talk about on these things.”

You ask this to show that you’ll try. An olive branch extending above herbs and coagulating butter meant to assure him.

So why does Jungkook look thrown off to hell? “On dates? Uhh…”

Great. You concede to paying more attention just to fall for his styled hair. And of course it looks even better when he rakes through his locks! Does he really have to do that? Damn it, damn it, damn it.

“They usually do most of the talking.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true!”

If that’s true, you kinda feel bad. Aren’t dates supposed to be how you get to know one another? Both people should be talking and finding similarities to build connections. Or at least to keep things interesting.

“Well,” you scoff, “What do you wanna talk about?”

“Oh. Hmm.”

Silence remains your only response for a heavy set of seconds. And you relax your hands with each passing tick, your heart kinda sinking alongside their descent.

Jungkook almost looks… unsure. Lost.

This wasn’t your goal in the slightest. And now you feel a little bad for asking, even if it was just a genuine question.

A slight furrow in your brows stems from the tiny pang in your chest. Something inside of you wants to reach over and grab that nervous hand tapping his silverware, but you can’t move. It doesn’t feel like the time.

You don’t wanna do this to yourself again, either.

But after some clinks and chatter around your table, your date pulls out a topic,

“There’s a new d—”

Loud buzzing makes both of you jump, eyes slinging to the phone lighting up on your side of the table.

Shit, you forgot to put it back in your bag.

Swiping it quick, you stare at the screen before wincing, because you finally got somewhere with substance.

But these calls won’t stop. They’re not gonna stop until you answer them.

“Hold that thought, okay?” You ask with sorry eyes. “I need to take this.”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Jungkook responds quick. But his face gives a lot more away than he intends. “I’ll, uhh. Be here.”

You nod in return, not quite telling him what you want to say.

But wading through stares with your phone against your ear shifts your mood entirely.

And maybe one day, you’ll admit to your roommate that you wanted nothing more than to keep talking to him instead.

That was a mistake.

You really shouldn’t have taken that call.

Using a warm towel to fix what you can of your face, you stare at determined eyes before steeling resolve. Get back out there and back to Jungkook. This whole thing took you way too long.

God, that was a huge mistake.

Shuffling back into your chair, you notice that a lot of the plates have been bussed and your napkin replaced with a new one.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “How long was I gone?”

“Who was that?”

His sudden question makes you pause on the way down, but you sit anyway. He doesn’t need to know. “Oh, it’s…” Waving your hand, you shoo any doubts he has in those starry eyes. “Whatever. I’m back now. What were we taking about?”

“Who called you.”

“No one, Kook.”

“Are you sure cus you—”

“Stop,” you cut him off, looking away before he can pin you down with one confused stare. “I just.. It’s no one, okay?”

Jungkook hesitates, but he answers, “If you say so.”

Your stare is long.

Because he looks ready to fight.

Or ready to just leave and find someone else to continue the date with, you don’t know for sure. Do you have a bias on which one it’d rather be? Yeah. But you’re so thrown off by that stupid ass call.

Sighing, you fiddle with the posh tablecloth before clearing your throat. “So.. What were you gonna tell me?”

More hesitation from across the table. But you expect it, so it hurts less. “There’s a new dance I wanna learn.”

Oh?

Immediately, your shoulders relax a tad. You didn’t think he’d talk about one of his hobbies. Truthfully, you assumed Jungkook would mention something about his car or gloat about only working when he wants to.

This is a welcoming twist. And one you can somewhat follow since you know about his steadily growing account and dance skill. “Which one? Show me.”

“Yeah?” Sparkling, your roommate takes out his phone, swiping away notifications—a lot of notifications—before thumbing through. “Hold on, lemme find one.”

You look around, seeing that some people here are elders and anticipating their disgust when Jungkook inevitably plays the video out loud.

“Here.”

Doing exactly what you thought, he shows a dance to a popular song that you’ve heard before. Is this why you’re hearing it everywhere? Whatever it is, it looks more complicated than the ones he’s posted before.

But knowing he picks stuff up quick, you figure he’ll have it down by tomorrow. So the only logical step is to tease him and test his memory, “Bet you can’t learn it by the time we finish.”

“Our date?”

“Our food.”

Jungkook gawks. “But we’re almost done!”

“So? You can do it.”

“What do I get?”

“I’ll pay for dessert.”

“Done. Have fun paying, I’m getting everything.”

When he watches the video, you press a hand over his phone just as he tries to block the swipe. And you fight hard to not react to his fingers covering yours. “No cheating.”

“What!”

Sliding your hand away, your voice gets more stern to hide your heartbeats. “Gotta make it hard somehow.”

His cheeky eyebrow tick snatches your breath before he goads, “I’m listening...”

He’s listening? What did you… Oh. He’s a problem. Blowing off his innuendo, you roll your eyes. “Whatever, you get what I mean.”

More notifs slide onto his phone, and you hum while Jungkook swipes them away in groups. “Fine. But you’re gonna record me and watch me win.”

“Done.”

During the rest of the meal—which prolongs from both of you still ordering—you can tell he’s committed, his body subtly doing the moves as he mouths the lyrics. “You’re trying the dance, huh.”

“Shh.”

The night goes on, and the restaurant fills closer and closer to the brim. It’s after the ninety minute mark that you notice just how many people know your roommate. At least, people in a place like this.

Girls keep coming to visit. But not all of them are hostile or rude—most of them are actually really sweet. Some people invite him to places, others remind him to be somewhere. One very handsome guy even asks if he’s going to some pre-release party tomorrow.

“That’s tomorrow?”

“Yeah, dude. Open the group chat once in awhile.”

After Jungkook laughs and jokes along with the guy a little more, he watches him say bye to you before leaving with his own date.

You’re left amazed, eyeing him signing the bill you know is massive. “Damn.. how many people do you know in this town?”

“Uhhh…” He scratches his neck. “Don’t be surprised if this keeps happening.”

“Super.”

And he dons that same uneasy look in his eyes.

You come to the conclusion that you don’t enjoy it.

When another group of people approach the table, Jungkook subtly changes up the way he converses. Instead of just talking to them, he fully introduces you and even mentions what you do for a living.

And this little change causes a beat inside your chest.

As you’re about to answer one of their questions, your phone buzzes again. And it’s yet another thing that you have to pick up.

Fucking hell, why is all of this happening tonight?

So caught up in inner turmoil, you don’t realize how everyone’s looking at you as you hastily stand. And when you quickly apologize and excuse yourself, you hate how you catch Jungkook’s eyes right before leaving.

This time? He looks downright upset.

Shit, you can’t handle all of this right now. You know you’re definitely gonna be talked about as soon as you’re out of earshot but it’s too late to recover.

So you rush away yet again.

That call doesn’t take long, but it’s still just as terrible to go through. Now you’re really just ready to cut the night short.

“Who keeps calling you? You okay?”

“No one you know,” you sigh, a bit shocked that Jungkook even asked that second question. “But don’t worry about it. Let’s go home.”

“Home? Not dessert?”

You eye him again.

Damn it. He looks like a puppy that is determined to be adopted, and you know you can’t shake that image from your mind the rest of the night.

Because yes. You do want to go home. You want to go home, shower, and dive into bed because no, you are not okay.

But after double checking your maps, you make a decision. For your self-proclaimed date and for yourself.

“There’s a parking garage nearby,” you surrender as you stand. “Go park at the top.”

The night sky looks a lot different from this height. Which doesn’t say too much because of all the city lights, but at least you have less obstruction to that vast dark ocean.

As prominent stars shine above, you lose any previous thoughts, palms curled and resting against the warm top of Jungkook’s car.

If only you could swim across those mingling blues. Weightless. No stressors or toxins entering your life, only flowing out and dissipating amongst planets and moons. A stellar massage; an out of this world escape.

“Why are we up here?”

Your sigh is slow on the release. “To see if you earned dessert or not.”

When you look his way, Jungkook’s eyes twinkle brighter than stars, which is all you needed to validate your impromptu decision to come.

Another olive branch.

But your roommate slowly rounding his car makes your thoughts slip off the damn track. The rooftop lights contour his features just right, and when he leans right next to your arm, your ability to steer back in your lane vanishes.

“Didn’t think you were this invested,” he hums.

To which you slowly cut back, “I kinda just wanna see you lose.”

Jungkook’s teeth bite a corner of amused lips in response, and it’s the most tempting he’s looked the entire night. Fuck you need to look away he cannot do that ever again.

“Record me then.”

Why the fuck did his voice get so low!

Turning back, you slide your hands off the car—certainly not because they’re shaking. “Gimme your phone.”

The proximity has been getting to you. But Jungkook’s sudden hesitation breaks whatever spell he just casted.

Makes sense. He was very quick to swipe away any notifications that you may have seen. Privacy or whatever he’s afraid of, you’re gonna stay wary of what could be in that thing.

But to your utter shock, Jungkook has his whole screen in view while he swipes into quick settings to turn on Do Not Disturb. And he hands it over while his words come out small,

“All yours.”

Static flits in the air as you slowly take it, watching him observe your expression and realizing he’s giving up a lot with this one gesture.

And you don’t know what possesses you to do this, but you pocket his phone in your hoodie pouch before taking your own device out to silence, as well.

Although worried, you sacrifice this tiny moment of time to give him the same courtesy. It’s only gonna take him two tries maximum, right? You won’t miss anything in those sixty seconds. This is just an equivalent exchange.

“And yours,” you murmur, handing him your phone to keep, too.

It shouldn’t mean much. Honestly, it shouldn’t mean anything.

But the way Jungkook looks at you? I feels like no one else exists anymore. Your universe has shrunken to two, and the way one of you is inching forward it feels like you’re about to be k—

“You shouldn’t have done that,” is all the warning you get before Jungkook speeds off.

Speeds off? What the actual fuck!

“Are you fucking serious!” you call out as you chase him across empty parking spaces, watching his hair bounce with his swooping laughs as he’s… raising your phone above his head? “Jungkook, I swear to god—”

His laughter continues as he keeps running, and you quickly run out of breath but you push forward because what the fuck is he doing with your phone? Is he checking every notification you didn’t swipe away or checking your call history or—

A whoosh of breath flies out as you run right into his laughs, and you’re grabbing at his jacket and yelling until you notice that he’s…

Recording?

Jungkook was just filming himself running away?

“Ah, you’re faster than I thought,” he grins to your camera. “Thought you’d be a turtle.”

“Kook!”

“Come here, turtle,” he says before wrapping a quick arm around you. Asking right to the camera, he continues, “Where’d you learn to be so fast?”

You outright frown at the lens. “I am not a turtle.”

Jungkook bursts into laughter again. “Ah, what are you then,” he asks again, watching himself on your screen while you perpetually pout. “A sloth? A snail?”

“Annoyed.”

“That’s not an animal!”

“Give me my phone!” You spring into action, leaping for your device as he stretches away while laughing even harder. Your body fully smushes into his in your pursuit, and while your arms are sailing through the air your heart is leaping into the clouds.

It’s always been obvious your roommate is rock solid but holy fuck.

Don’t give up now. You’re grabbing his leather sleeves and he’s chortling all throughout your struggle. But you think you can get it if you just—

“Wait, wait!” Jungkook stumbles from your full weight jumping forward, and he attempts to stay upright but suddenly you’re rushing towards the ground in a full fall oh shit! “Fuck—!”

You fully expect pain shooting through your hands, or your hips, or your elbow, brain rushing through ideas on how to fall properly—

But all you feel is the plush yet solid force of Jungkook’s front, held together in a leather layer as you both shoot out groans on impact. And all you can get out is a tiny,

“Ow.”

“You okay?”

A lot of things are competing for your realization. Like the way Jungkook is between your body and concrete, and the way he’s the one looking at you in concern.

Not to mention the hand fully pressing you against his front.

Oh no no no, you’re getting flushed just thinking about how he feels. Or how he saved you from any injury. You can already imagine how it’s gonna sound in the video playback when you squeak, but you’re so embarrassed that you just want it over with. “Why’d you do that?”

“Me? You’re the one that jumped me!”

“You could’ve just given me my phone.”

“That’s too easy.”

Shit, you need to get up. His eyes are shimmering and he looks way too happy for a guy that just broke your entire fall. When you try to push off, you’re quickly held a little bit tighter.

And your brain skids to a halt as you look at his cocked brow.

“Say sorry first.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he quips. “Say sorry and I let you go.”

Ah. If only it was always that easy.

Pursing your lips, you glare. “I’m sorry for giving you my—Kook!”

He laughs at your miserable attempt to escape his tickling, correcting you in sing-song as you squirm. “You gotta mean it, babe.”

Immediately, you stop. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?”

You don’t really have an answer. But giving guys a general look of annoyance is usually enough to convince them. So you pull out your last hope.

“Okay, okay,” he concedes, reluctantly peeling his fingers off your side and letting you stand. “I won’t say it for now.”

Once you get off of him, you feel a little strange. The same feeling from your handholding earlier comes back in full force, but you do your best to shove it away.

You don’t need that right now. This is just an experiment, so not even lying on top of your roommate can get to you.

While dusting yourself, you miss the chance to give Jungkook a hand. So you’re silent as he shows you your phone—the video stopped and your screen black. “That okay?”

“Mmhmm…”

“Sorry,” he apologizes, though you don’t know what for. “We can record now.”

You huff as he unlocks your device with your face, and you debate pouncing again before he reassures,

“Just pulling up the song. Damn, your screens are organized!”

You don’t acknowledge his compliment but watch him pull up the right app. And you let him play the song on loop in his pocket before relaxing.

“Okay, you can start. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

“K.”

Through his screen, you watch Jungkook slowly jog into frame until he’s a good distance away. Already knows exactly how far to be, you muse, wondering just how often he really does these videos.

And he preps because he knows the challenge part is coming, so you steady your hand and watch in amazement as he really does know all the moves.

But you’re feeling a little cheeky. And a little in the mood for revenge.

So you wait until he’s fully done with the dance to tell him you weren’t recording, which makes him groan,

“Really!”

“Looks like you gotta do it all again,” you shrug with mock-pity.

So he plays the song from your phone again while you wait, and once again, Jungkook is a skilled… dancer…

A message banner from a name you vaguely recognize slides onto his screen, which throws you off because you literally saw him put it on DND.

Wait. If Jungkook still gets her messages in this mode, then…

You realize what that could mean, and it kinda throws you off because you feel like you intruded on something you didn’t mean to.

Damn.

“How’d that one look!”

Shit! You were so thrown you didn’t even watch him! “Uhh.. Do it again,” you tell him, trying hard to hide the hitch in your voice. “You can do better.”

“Well, damn!” This guy’s smile really isn’t fair, even from far away. “At least you’re honest.”

Yeah. Right.

When Jungkook does it again, no notifications show up and you watch him diligently this time.

It’s perfect. Exactly how you thought it’d be.

“That one was the best one,” he chirps, jogging over to take his phone and have you both watch it again. Looking at you with a lopsided curve, he boasts, “I win.”

“Fine, fine,” you admit with a fake grin. “Maybe I’m the one that wanted dessert this whole time.”

He laughs. “Do it with me.”

Do what? The dance? Absolutely not. “Me? Hell no.”

“Why not!”

“I would look like a fool! No.”

A hand juts out to pull you just as you try to scurry away. “Nah, come on! I’ll show you, come here.”

Ugh. You hate how he’s truly just vibing, taking you along for the ride.

But in a last show of grace, you allow yourself to give in. Focusing on anything else besides those phone calls—and that notification—could be good anyway.

So you stand next to your awaiting date, nodding for him to get on with it and teach.

Grinning, Jungkook shows you simple moves and you somewhat get them. Something with your feet here, another move with your arms there. It’s a bit shaky at first and you have to keep watching him dance, but you have to admit you’re doing better than expected.

But there’s a move with your hips that you can’t quite get, and you feel stiff as hell. Honestly, you’re not even mad at your dance partner for laughing because you know you look silly. “Give me a break,” you shout with a laugh, to which he chuckles harder. “You know this one is hard.”

So, in very Jungkook fashion, your roommate comes over to steady his hands on your hips. “Here,” he says in a whisper, “I got you.”

And you scoff out a laugh. “Oh. I see.”

In full teacher mode, he asks in shock, “Wait, you got it already?”

“No, like”—you shake your head—“I see why you did this.”

Jungkook pauses before chuckling, smug whispers flowing into your ear, “Is it working?”

Huh. Just like his boldness from before, you’re liking this side of him. The one that’s just going for it, whatever the challenge may be.

Turning slightly, you catch his features in your peripheral. “What if it wasn’t?”

Slowly, Jungkook’s grip gets a little tighter as he leans in, one of his hands sliding up just enough for his thumb to slip under your hoodie. When he asks again, his tone lowers an octave, one you haven’t ever heard this close, “This better?”

The text, the text, the text.

You breathe hard, swallowing before stepping far out of his embrace and sputtering, “I think I got it! No practice needed.”

He switches demeanor immediately. “Oh? So we can record now?”

“What.”

Jungkook half runs to the nearest concrete railing to prop his phone, grappling your wrist before you can scurry out of frame. “Just try it! Play the song on your phone.”

God. You were only gonna learn the dance, not be recorded! This is way too much embarrassment for the night.

As the video records, you’re so adamantly against it that you stand in full grump mode, your dance partner only stopping when he sees you not doing it.

You kinda enjoy his pout. “Hey!”

“I can’t!”

Again with those eyes. No wonder this man gets whatever the fuck he wants whenever someone comes over. “Just once.”

Your arms cross you like a shield. “If it’s horrible, you’re deleting it.”

“Fine.”

You give him another look, but he’s not budging. At all.

So you slump in defeat and prep for the worst.

The video records again, and you move through the steps, knowing your memory helps you even though your muscles can’t quite do everything accurately. Honestly, you’re a bit proud you can get through the dance wait why are you dancing solo!

Freezing, you turn to Jungkook watching you with a dropped jaw. “What now?”

Excited eyes crease as he points to your feet. “You did the moves!”

“Wasn’t I supposed to?”

“Yeah, but”—his amusement peppers the night with color—“I didn’t expect that.”

“You told me to!”

He laughs again before running excitedly to his phone, and you are so confused. But you feel a little accomplished that you surprised him, and he then tells you to record him one more time. “I can’t lose to you.”

And when you watch him finish the dance, you lock eyes with him over his phone.

That was the best he’s ever danced for a video and you both know it.

When he proudly holds his device on the way back to the car, you quietly smile as he decrees, “I’m posting this tomorrow.”

“Why not now?”

“Wanna edit first.”

You give the sky one more look. “Oh. I thought time mattered or something.”

“Huh? I don’t care about the time. I just post whenever.”

“Sounds right.”

At least the time you’ve been spending on the parking garage is nice. Looks like the change in location has been a nice distraction from—

Great. Another fucking call.

Both of you glance down at your phone, and you quickly bring it up to your ear to hide the caller ID, wincing at his forlorn look before you motion your exit.

“Do you really have to—”

When the caller starts to talk, you make one stride before your elbow is softly grabbed.

And when you give Jungkook a desperate shake of your head, he pinches his brows before letting you go.

God, your roommate looks so lost in his car.

The breeze stings as you walk back, and your heart tugs a little when Jungkook starts driving over as soon as he sees you’re done.

Just get through this last part of the night. One more stop and then you can both end this pitiful charade of a date.

You’re about to reach for your door when Jungkook pops out of his side. “I got it.”

Oh. That’s nice of him. “You don’t have to—”

“Am I keeping you from something?”

Stilling, you watch as he stops at your side, car exhaust hitting your nose as his car runs. “No, no, it’s…”

Jungkook watches you peter off, his face falling hard enough to make you regretful. When he looks at the ground, your chest caves. “We can just go home.”

“What? No. You won the bet, I don’t need pity.” You know it’s sour but you’re stressed and losing this one good thing will make it a thousand times worse. “Sorry.”

“We don’t have to go.”

“Dude, it’s fine.”

“I don’t want it anymore.”

Well. Shit.

Way to be the first person in the universe to ruin a good time with Jeon Jungkook. A good night, no less. What’s the prize? Feeling like absolute garbage.

This guy took you to the nicest place in town, defended you against stuck-up assholes, and even broke your fall on concrete. What the fuck have you been doing the whole night? Those olive branches don’t mean shit if you’re gonna take them away, too.

Sighing, you muster the courage to put on a brave front. Offering one last, genuine invitation, you compromise, “Then let’s do the dance one more time.”

“It’s okay.”

Fuck, that hurts like hell, but don’t give up. Stop being a total asshole.

Gathering even more courage, you reach out to lift his beautiful chin. “Look at me.” When he does in silence, you finally apologize, “I’m sorry, okay? I should’ve told you these calls might happen but I didn’t even.. I didn’t even think about it.”

“They’re making you miserable,” he accurately summarizes. “And you won’t tell me who's doing this to you.”

Soul breaking, you stare at the ground. “I’ll tell you if I really need to, Kook, but.. Not right now.”

“Why?”

Many, many reasons. But you’ll spare him the time and misery when you swipe at nothing on his jacket. “Because I can handle them on my own for now.”

There’s a beat of silence followed by another. But it’s not as awkward as they had been throughout the night. This one feels much lighter, like your apology lifted the brick of stress pushing down on you until now.

Is that because Jungkook’s now offering to help you carry it? “I’m here, you know,” he starts, his turn to hold your chin. “Even if we aren’t dating, I got you. Okay?”

Smiling the tiniest you can manage, you wait until his hand is back at his side. “Are you gonna tell me that’s what roommates are for?”

When Jungkook starts to grin, you let yours spread a little wider. “Something like that.”

Okay. You can do this.

He’s just your roommate and this is just a date. You’ve been letting life beat your ass the whole time you could’ve been leaning into this whole thing, and that sucks.

But even though you can’t change the past, you can change what happens now.

So you let yourself laugh when he does, and you give him one more chance to embarrass you. “Are we doing this dance again or going back home so I can finally sleep in peace?”

“In peace?” His dropped jaw makes you giggle. “Nah, we’re definitely recording again.”

This time, you both stand a little closer so you can fully be in frame. And it takes a few tries—one solely because Jungkook purposely moves to cover you, making you shove his laughing ass out of the way—but eventually you do get a decent take.

After watching it over in the car a few minutes later, you’re so impressed that you even want him to send you the video.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sending all of them.”

“What, why?”

His eyes shine way too bright as he starts descending through the parking levels. “So that they live in our message thread forever.”

“You sneaky bi—wait, this is my song!” Your hand is already jutting out to turn up the volume before Jungkook can react, already forgetting what you were yelling about to break into an upbeat rendition of an old classic.

“Wait, I wanted to—”

“Too bad! This is my shit.”

When you start to sing, Jungkook can only watch before grinning at his windshield, joining in until you’re both belting everything out, “We’re in heaven…”

Letting your window down, you scream lyrics out into the empty garage, barely hearing Jungkook cackling at your side.

For a moment, you feel free. Music up, breeze through the windows, and the prettiest singing voice by your side hitting every note in the book.

If only you could both do this forever.

After a much livelier car ride than the first, you’re both walking to your door, sharing a look and knowing exactly what the tiny laughs are about.

Who goes back to the same home after a first date?

As he opens the door for you, a thanks slips from your lips before your shoes slide off your feet. And while the door closes with a click, your mind goes over the whole night like a sped-up tape.

Prank or not, bet or not, it ended up being fun. You hope the same for your roommate, though you’re truly expecting him to confess and say he’s done pretending. So he can get on with his life and seeing other people like that girl.

Your ribcage jostles.

“Thanks for dinner,” you murmur as he finishes taking off his boots. “That was the best I’ve ever had.”

When Jungkook straightens, he gives you a lopsided smile. “Good,” he responds before flicking his bangs out the way. “But no taking calls next time.”

Wait. After all your bullshit today, there’s still a next time? “Uh, I don’t know when I’d be able to—”

“Trust me. This one you’ll like.”

Rip the bandaid off. Just do it before things go where they shouldn’t. He’s already starting to say what’s in store for tomorrow but you can’t even entertain it because of what you saw. “I don’t think this will work.”

Caught mid-sentence, Jungkook snaps his mouth shut before tilting his head. “Huh? You didn’t have a good time?”

Damn it. Why is he still only asking about your experience? Didn’t he have to sit through all your absences? This is already getting too hard to break off and that’s not a good sign. “No, I did. I meant the whole, umm. Ten days thing.”

“Because you’re already convinced?”

“Because we live together, dummy,” you remind him, walking into the hall before he blocks your path. Pulling excuses out of your ass, you continue, “At least I get to have time away from other people I date. Not keep seeing them in their underwear.”

“You like it.”

You tsk.

“It’ll be fine!”

Arms folded, you pin him with a glare. “You bring girls over like four times a week.”

“Why would I right now? I’m with you.”

Something about that makes your heart pulse a little faster. But you can’t. You can’t do this when you know something you shouldn’t. Or maybe something you should, since it’s pretty damn important? “And no one else?”

“No one else,” Jungkook immediately answers. Which is weird considering what you accidentally saw earlier. If he’s flat out lying, you really can’t do anything else with him anytime soon.

“Are you sure, because…” You sigh before looking down at his pocketed phone.

Say it. Say exactly what’s on your mind because this isn’t some drama where communication is somehow last on the list of priorities. Real people talk it out, so talk it out. “Look. I kinda, umm. Saw someone text you when I was recording.”

You watch his expression change a tiny, tiny bit. But it’s enough to warrant your decision, “If you’re already seeing someone, I don’t wanna—”

“Who?”

You blink. “Uhhh.. Kyla? Kira?”

Your roommate suddenly starts to grin lopsided. “Kala? She’s my friend from like, second grade. We still game together.”

“Oh.” Well. That was a lot easier to talk about than you expected. “I just thought… Yeah.”

The way he softens while looking at you makes you feel both dizzy and a little shy. You would pay a significant amount to know what he’s thinking right now, despite the troubles hitting you all through the night.

“So cute.”

Ah. Never mind. “It’s not cute,” you huff. “Just being reasonable.”

“Yeah. Cute.”

But he breaks contact to take out his phone and messes with it for a bit. When he clicks it to lock, he holds it up in a slight wiggle. “There.”

Your head tilts before he explains,

“Yours come through now, too.”

Breath caught, your whole body seems to buzz. The air around your hoodie starts shifting and heating, and your question leaves in a shocked whisper, “You’re taking this seriously.. aren’t you.”

Jungkook’s eyes never leave yours. “Yeah.”

Why the hell is he trying so hard? For you of all people?

Last time you checked, the two of you are friends but it’s never been more than that. What’s gotten into him in the last month or so? Did something happen that you missed completely?

Because if this isn’t some big joke... is this energy around you what you think it is? This chemistry molding into something scary and exciting all at once? It’s terrifying you because, if this is something he wants for real, you may take things further than they’ve ever gone.

But the spark dissipates when Jungkook looks away. Eyes a little lowered, he asks,

“It’s just ten days, right?”

Ah. Of course. He’s just competitive, that’s all.

Smiling tight while you lift your nose, you hum. “Seven.”

“Too easy.” Jungkook then stops to look at the ground. “It’d be easier if you didn’t keep walking off, though.”

He got you there. You really don’t have any excuses other than your much lower level of effort. “I… Yeah. Life is really… I’m sorry.”

You don’t want to tell him just yet. Especially since the night had quite the lovely ending. “But honestly, I really thought you were just doing all this to mess with me.”

“Well, I’m not.” Shucking his jacket off shoulders that haunt you, your roommate steps aside to let you finally pass.

And reminds you about the motherfucking tank underneath fuck—

“Besides.”

You blink at the hand on your arm.

“I can mess with you any day.”

Oh? Bold once again. Attractive once again. But you aren’t gonna let him have just anything he wants. At least, not without seeing how far he’s willing to go. “Not if I don’t let you.”

“You think so?”

“I do.” You lift your chin. “You don’t scare me.”

Stepping in front of you, he gets so close there’s no space between your front and his protruding pecs. “Even like this?”

You try not to show your swallow. “Uh huh.”

When he leans in, you do your best not to react when he rasps out, “And this?”

Another gulp. “D… Duh.”

But you’re pretty sure he hears that one because he gravitates to your neck. So close that you can feel his breath on your throat, cologne wrapping you up in wild thoughts and even wilder decisions. “But not this, right?”

Say no, say yes, say no no no. “...No.”

Then. Just when you thought he couldn’t get any cheekier. His lips brush right against your neck as he asks his last question,

“Here then.”

Your flinch and dip out of his way is so quick that you don’t even realize you moved, and his laughs paint the hallway with mirth at your expense.

A hand slaps over the very spot he touched. “Kook!”

“What?”

That felt way too good but came out of nowhere. Feelings are creeping into places they really shouldn’t, and you’re so caught off-guard that your lips flap but don’t do much else. “You… you can’t just…I—”

“Relax,” he giggles. “I wasn’t gonna do anything else.”

Snapping back to reality, you bring yourself to express what’s really on your mind. “Just saying,” you huff, walking off. “You should still ask..”

“Wait, wait!”

You turn, not anticipating the next thing out of his mouth.

“You’re right,” he breathes out as he skids. “I’m sorry.”

Relieved he didn’t take what you asked for as joke, you allow yourself to relax again.

But of course, with Jeon Jungkook, there’s always more. “Can I do one more thing?”

“What.”

“Lemme do what I always do after dates.”

Deadpanning, you drone, “We’re not having se—”

“It’s not that.” Pinning him with disbelief, you watch him smile. “Not this time, anyway.”

Another roll of your eyes.

“Just trust me.”

“Fine.”

He takes your hand and leads you to your bedroom door, and you try your hardest not to bunch your shoulders.

But something interesting happens that makes you more curious than anything else.

Jungkook stops when you get to your entrance, and he turns to just stare at your face. So calm, and so quiet.

You don’t quite know what you look like right now, but the way he smirks before going in for a kiss gives you.. an.. idea..

He kisses your cheek?

When he pulls away, his eyes sparkle as you question so bluntly he laughs, “That’s it?”

“Told you,” he reiterates through a sly grin. “Why?”

“I mean..”

He chuckles before leaning in slow. “I mean if you insist—”

Immediately stopping his playful ways, you panic, “Wait, I mean—I just—”

“Dinner and a kiss is all it takes to win, huh?”

“No, that’s not..” God, he is not funny right now! “One more wouldn’t hurt. I wasn’t ready.”

By the way Jungkook freezes, you’d think he had turned to stone. But on second glance, he’s just watching for any hesitation or lie in your words, so when he finds none he leans back in.

The second kiss is just as light and innocent as the first.

But this time, he doesn’t move as you swivel your face to watch, mouths so close and noses softly bumping.

And the universe shrinks once again. Your belly twists with trembling butterflies and Jungkook’s cologne has clung to him so nicely and your calls have you wound tight and you really just need a distraction so maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just—

“Go to sleep, roomie,” he whispers with a deadly smirk, moving away before you can even respond. “You gotta get up early.”

Oh. Why did your heart just scream? “Right… I do.”

“Good night.”

“Good night…”

Before you can snap out of it, Jungkook is already walking away.

After everything you did tonight, he still stayed. Still had fun. And even did more than he needed to for you despite being left alone at every turn.

…And quite honestly? “Kook?”

He turns.

Fuck this fake dating game, fuck the bullshit you’ve been dealt tonight. “Was that really how you wanted to kiss me?”

Jungkook pauses in the hall, jacket dangling from his fist. “Fuck no.”

You swallow as your breath turns shallow. Thinking too hard about all the shit you’re gonna go through soon, you let loose just this once.

“Then show me.”

Leather abandoned on wooden floorboards, your friend, your roommate, your enormous new problem returns with a purpose, gripping your head in his hands and—

Fuck, he’s a great kisser. Your lips connect and it’s lights out, flashing through your veins and speeding down your limbs. Rushed and impatient, his hands slide all over your arms, running up back to your neck to hold it tight.

“You taste so fucking nice.”

Your reply is devoured, his grip strong but not crushing, tongue sliding along your plush like it’s nothing.

Yes, yes, yes. This is exactly what you needed all along. Nothing occupies your mind other than thoughts so dirty Jungkook would never let you live them down.

Suddenly, you’re delightfully shoved against your door, groan spewing into his lips as you grapple for his bare arms. If he’s chuckling, you can’t bring yourself to care. All you can think about is how fucking good this feels.

And how fucking wrong it is.

Maybe that’s what adds to the thrill. The knowledge that roommates should never jump into this, no matter how electric things can get.

But fuck it.

Maddeningly, though, Jungkook keeps his hands just within boundaries, which surprises you and yet irks the monster in you all the same. When he shifts his lips, the kiss deepens, and your eyes shut even tighter as something taut and muscular shoves between your legs.

Fuck, this feels good. Too good. Borderline forbidden and stepping across way too many lines but you can’t fucking stop.

“Careful, babe,” you hear him coo. “Keep going and we’re fucking all week.”

What? What did he just say what are you doing to make him…

Holy fuck, were you humping his leg?

“Oh, shit,” you gasp, breaking away and holding him at arm’s length. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t even—” Air immediately washes over your heated cheeks and into your desperate lungs, and you have to fight to catch your beating breaths. “Something just happened, I—”

And looking down does you no favors because there is a very, very obvious bulge in your roommate’s pants oh god what did you do?

Your wrists are held by calm hands as Jungkook peels you off his shoulders. When he leans forward, your body’s caged in by his sheer size alone.

“Thanks for the dessert, roomie,” he simply whispers to your lips, swiping a finger across your nose before backing up to go to his room. “See you tomorrow.”

And just like that, you’re left alone in the hallway, mind swirling and swirling.

Well. When you invited him to make a move, you expected to be charmed because it’s him.

But out of all the goddamn outcomes, you didn’t expect anything like that.

A hand slides up to grab the spot above your beating, pulsing, racing heart.

These seven days are gonna age you an eternity.

tbc. :)

🦋 ahhh how do we feel !! | wanna be tagged? 🦋

A/N: we're in heaven... OHHHH HO HO we are in it now!!! good god the amount of things in store for these two... honestly it's gonna be a good ass fun ass tiring ass ride hahaha. hope everyone is ready! A/N 2: second part is in the works and uhh, remember what i said before? the spice levels are basically gonna jump from 0 to 100? yeah that's gonna happen again lmfaooo these two are quickly jumping up my favorites list asapppp🦋 ++ feedback box (new!): ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that aren’t okay with reblogging with a review, commenting on this, or sending a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a feedback dropbox :D ⇥ here! ++ ⇥ masterlist

#ITS FINALLY HEREEEE #seven days #7days1 #*ryenfictalk #ryenwrites #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts reactions #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #*latest

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munsonify · 11 days ago

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Hello! Since u write for Joaquin could we get a fic based on the song Moonlight bc Kali Uchis please 🥹 thank you in advance 💘

a/n. hi! absolutely, thanks for sending this in! ❤️ i love joaquin and i love kali uchis this is my shit. i decided to do this based off of lyrics and the vibes i get from the song. also i perhaps went a little to heavy on the setup of the fic but shhh. i hope you can see the vision i had for this! (click link on title to see song on spotify)

moonlight - joaquin torres x fem!reader

summary. you’re always joaquin’s plus one at events, and tonight was no different. this time around, however, after joaquin attended to what he needed to, you two were desperate to get away from the crowd and enjoy each others company

content warnings. so much fluff, sexual tension, established relationships, r in a dress+heels, secluded make out sess, joaquin being insatiable and absolutely adorable, very little alcohol consumption, pet names (pretty girl, baby, baby girl), thunderbolts spoilers

word count. 3362

———

it was important that joaquin and sam made public appearances together to keep up a good image. with everything that’d happened within the past few years - the snap reversal, sam taking over the responsibility of being captain america, several mishaps that had to do with superhero’s, ones that usually didnt give them the best rep - they needed to make sure the public knew they were on their side. that they are here to help.

and, while joaquin didnt mind attending these events, it was always nice having you around. with you around, the tension in his jaw and his shoulders eased up. he’s personable, charming, kind, and you know that of him very well. that didn’t stop him from becoming a little stressed during these sort of relations and the formality of it all. when you’re by his side, delicate hand placed on his bicep, a sweet, reassuring smile shining over at him, he remembers that it’s all okay. he remembers to loosen up a little, to breathe, that you always have his back.

more importantly, you help joaquin remember why he began doing this in the first place. people need someone to step in and protect, someone who’s dedicated and passionate. he knows he can be that person, it’s who he strives to be every day. and, despite making one too many lighthearted jokes to the wrong person, or nearly knocking things over from walking aimlessly, he still manages to charm people over. you admire every last bit of that about the man.

tonight there was a fundraising event sam thought was best for them to attend. fundraisers were always a little easier for joaquin, a little less tense. while government hearings had a lot more on the line, a little more difficult to navigate, fundraisers first and foremost required his compassion and empathy. easy. regardless, he was able to bring a plus one, a spot he filled without hesitation.

that’s how you, joaquin, and sam ended up in the back of a limo, riding steady through new york city to the venue.

“you think bucks gonna be here?” joaquin asked, leaned back and casual in his seat. you couldn’t help but admire how good he looked in his suit with his hair combed back out of his eyes, strands that curled slightly at the ends through the gel.

“now that he’s working with valentina, there’s no way in hell he’s not,” sam scoffed, head shaking slightly. he was right. while bucky might not be the best at public relations, valentina was, both out of necessity and desperation. she knew how to work and redirect a crowd. besides, he was there during the incident - crumbling buildings, cars gone airborne, people turned to darkened shadows-, it was only right he made an appearance. it wouldn’t be a surprised if valentina dragged the rest of the newfound “team” along with them.

joaquin couldn’t help but chuckle, his mind clearly fumbling through a long line of remarks to spew out. “poor guy can’t even articulate senate cases properly, there’s no chance he’s making it through trying to justify what happened,” he joked, earning another scoff from the man. the small smirk the played on yours and sam’s face was enough to egg him on. joaquin straightened up his shoulders as he began to impersonate bucky the vest he could, voice deepening slightly, trying his best to be brooding.

“the incident was… very bad, very unfortunate, ya know. it was a very bad thing that happened. i just so happened to be there when the very unfortunate thing occurred.”

a small giggle slipped from your lips, smiling wide at joaquin as he spoke. sam was pushing back a small smile that tried to force its way onto his face. even if he didn’t want to admit it, joaquin was amusing. only sometimes. the three of you didn’t get much else in before you’d finally arrived at the venue, pulling up as close to the entrance as the driver could.

sam was the first out of the vehicle, stepping out and immediately being hit with camera flashes, a few of the photographers shouting to get his attention. joaquin was next, though he stalled only slightly so you could give him a gentle, reassuring kiss on the lips. he ignored the camera flashes and the voices as he stepped out, immediately turning to offer you a hand, one you accepted gratefully. he helped you out of the limo, letting go only when you found your footing, the heels you wore a little higher than you were used to.

joaquin was quick to offer his arm up to you in replacement of his hand. your hand slipped right below his bicep near the crook of his elbow, throwing a smile his way as he begins guiding you up towards the entrance. he gave the photographers a few polite waves as you two followed sam inside. you realized during the flashes of the cameras that you’d accidentally left traces of lipgloss on his lips.

“baby,” you cooed quietly as you stepped into the building, giving his arm a small squeeze to get his attention. joaquin hummed a pleasant ‘yeah’, head turning towards you. “you’ve got a little lipgloss on you.”

all he did was give you a small smile and a shrug of his shoulders before he leaned in to whisper. “i think i’ll live.”

joaquin continued to walk you proudly through the venue, eyes wandering around to figure out where he should be. sam stopped him to give him some direction, a few pointers to keep him afloat for the night. be respectful, show that you care, be optimistic about rebuilding what was lost. he could do that.

many business were destroyed during the attack, apartments in shambles and cars wedged into poles. with you by his side, hovering in the vicinity as he spoke, or simply seeing you in the corner of his eye entertaining a government official in his boring, long drawn out story, he was able to keep pushing. a journalist had a few pressing questions for joaquin to answer, ones he was more than happy to answer. in regards to what the world could expect from him and sam in efforts to make sure that was a contained incident, he gave the best answer he could muster on the spot.

while they may not have a proper plan, they had spoken on a few occasions about it. this was his time to keep it short and simple, dodge the question a little, maybe even throw in a small joke.

“as we move forward with the relief team, our biggest priority is making sure everyone gets back on their feet. we’re closely monitoring any activity that occurs in the area, and so far we’ve been in the clear. have you seen yet? the dust finally settled.”

that finalized the impromptu interview, joaquin bidding her a goodbye with a firm handshake, before the journalist walked off. he’d been speaking with people for what felt like nonstop, the two and a half hours starting to bear down on him. right when the exhaustion threatened to sink in, he caught eye of you. the prettiest, most respectful smile graced your face, lips still shiny with lipgloss. you held a champagne glass loosely in both hands as you nodded along with the woman in front of you.

joaquin slowly found his way towards you, tuning in immediately to the conversation you were having. he was sure the conversation was nice, he realized quickly she was speaking of a book she published. she only stopped for a few seconds to shake his hand and introduce herself, eyes lighting up when she recognized who he was. she was quick to stumble back into the conversation, detailing a little more on her research.

for once, joaquin didn’t feel like he needed to take the lead in the conversation, or have much of importance to say. he let you finish out what you had started, watching as you nod along and add quips and responses at the perfect moments. he nodded along, too, despite being thoroughly distracted.

he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. you had your hair made up nice to accompany long, delicate black dress you wore. the fabric hugged your curves perfectly, sitting just right on your body. there was a slit in the dress that dragged up one of your thighs just high enough for joaquin’s mind to slip away slightly. it wasn’t until he noticed the glass in your hands shift to only one, reaching your free hand to give the woman a firm shake. he mindlessly followed your direction, shaking her hand right afterwards.

“it was very nice talking to you, ma’am,” you spoke, your polite smile still gracing your lips. she offered the same sentiment before she excused herself, walking off to greet someone she seemed to know. your shoulders visibly relaxed when she was far enough away, body turning towards your boyfriend for the first time in around an hour. joaquin seemed just as relieved to be by your side again without all of the formality.

a hand of his slipped to your waist, tugging you slightly towards him in a gentle, unprovoked sort of possessiveness. he simply missed having your attention and having you near him, something he made that very clear to you. you knew his tell signs, you were always quick to pick up on them. the gleam in his eyes as he looked at you made your heart flutter, even more so now that he’s speaking to you in a whisper.

“missed you, pretty girl. think i can steal you away for a second?” your nose scrunched up slightly at his compliment, humming out slightly as you began to think, a fake sort of contemplation that joaquin could see right through. you let your free hand move to smooth up his chest, fingers sprawled out slightly, feeling his heartbeat quicken just barely under your touch.

“i think so, handsome,” you finally said, hand moving to smooth the white button up you’d wrinkled slightly. joaquin’s large hand found its way to your lower back, before gently guiding you through the busy room. he helped you weave through people until he found a staircase to ascend. that’s when his hand moved to yours, walking you up the stairs all the way to the second floor.

joaquin didn’t stop walking you guys through the building until he found a narrow, empty hallway that didn’t seem to be of use. there was a lengthy window at the end of the hallway, one that let a sliver of moonlight shine through. gently illuminating the ground. the warm light from inside of the venue helped you properly take in your boyfriend in his entirety. he truly did look handsome tonight, he always looked especially good in a tux.

you always tried to take a moment to take him in when he was done up like this, something about him in formal making your knees a little weak. joaquin noticed every time you started to zone in on it, too, you gave it away easily. he was careful with the way he corned you against the wall, his hand grasping your glass and setting it on the ground, far enough away that it wouldn’t get kicked. he noticed the way your eyes were dragging along his face, your bottom lip being tugged between your teeth. your hands smoothed against his shoulders, feeling his muscles even through his tux.

“busy night tonight,” you spoke, filling the silence as joaquin’s hands found their way to your waist, his hold firm as he keeps you against the wall. you decided to wrap your arms around his shoulders, trying to discreetly tug him near you a little more.

“i know, barely got to see you,” he spoke lowly, eyes trailing down to your lips. his tiredness was evident, though he seemed a little more lively now that he had you alone for the time being.

joaquin gave into you happily, moving to slot himself right against you, broad chest against yours. he tried not to think too hard about how your chest felt against his, soft and in view, something he thanked himself for. he’d bought this dress for you, and even though his intentions were for you to have another formal dress to add to your collection, the plunging neckline was a very nice bonus. joaquin’s lips found yours in a soft, needy kiss, slotting between yours with a little pout.

your lipgloss clung to his lips again, this time making an audible clicking sound when you pulled away. when his eyes opened up again, eyelashes fluttering, you were already looking at him. your eyelids were hooded slightly as you admired his gentle features, noticing the stubble that was beginning to grow in. you brought a hand over to to reach for his jawline, fingertips dragging across the subtle hair with care.

“let’s get outta here, baby,” joaquin whispered just before leaning in for another kiss, this time a little slower, more intentional. you kept your hand at his jaw to cradle it, kissing him back with a desire that’d been pilling up since the moment you’d gotten here. between how good he looked, the way he took the lead and guided you around, and the multiple lingering stares you gave each other all night, there was no reason you wouldn’t be feeling this way.

“and leave sam alone?” you questioned breathlessly, lips parted slightly after the kiss he’d given you. joaquin smiled a little, shaking his head at your words. his arms moved to wrap around your waist, moving you away from the wall just a little. he gave you another quick peck on the lips before he responded.

“bucky’s here,” he pointed out, maintaining an eye contact that kept you just as breathless as before. “besides, he’s a big boy. he can manage the last 40 minutes alone. we’ve done our part.”

“i’m sold,” you told him, giving him a smile to match his. this time, you pulled him in for a kiss, a lot more forward than his had been, a deeper kiss, yet still slow. your tongue swiped against his bottom lip teasingly, as if trying to get a rise out of him. it worked the moment you pulled away, joaquin’s eyebrows knitting together at the loss of contact.

a hand of his found the back of your neck, holding you firm, guiding you back to his lips. that’s what kickstarted a slow make out session, joaquin’s lips warm against yours, coaxing your mouth open just enough for his tongue to find its way in. the kiss was a little wet and laced with need, so much so that you’d hardly remembered where you were.

only a few minutes had gone by with his lips on yours in a perfect unison before the two of you heard footsteps nearby, pulling you away from the moment. a small string of spit attached to your lips and broke quicker than you could process it. you glance over to see three men walking past you, not even noticing your presence as they continue on and talk. joaquin’s eyes, however, never leave you. he leaned in to place a kiss to your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear.

your eyes finally made their way back to him, a loving, dopey expression on his face. you brought your other hand over to cradle his face in your hands, feeling his arms going back to wrapping around your waist again. you were both lovesick, giddy, tired. it was evident in his eyes, though filled with so much love, that he was worn.

“if we’re quick enough sam wont even notice we left,” you whispered to joaquin, watching his face light up. “you’re tired, i can see it in your face. it’s time to get us home.”

he nodded at your words in a silent agreement, letting you reach down to grab his hands, finally guiding him like he’d been doing for you. still, he helped you gently down the stairs, letting you steady yourself in your heels as you descended. you thought you were being stealthy, quiet, quick. clearly, it hadn’t been good enough, sam appearing behind you two just before you’d exited the building. you whipped around at the sound of his voice, stopping in your tracks like a deer caught in headlights.

“you couldn’t even bother to say bye to me?” sam asked, a little offended. his eyebrows were raised slightly as he stood there staring. joaquin stared at him for a split second before he raised a hand up, waving at him.

“bye, sam,” he said, a small smirk playing on his lips. all sam could do was fumble with his phone, moving to send a text.

“take the limo, i’ll find a way back,” he said as he alerted the driver, stuffing his phone away again.

“you sure?” joaquin asked, despite tugging you towards the exit. sam nodded, before shooing the two of you away. you both turned on your heels and scurried away before he could say anything else. your hand gripped his as you waddled your way to the sidewalk, stepping off to the side to wait on the driver to pull up.

joaquin took this opportunity to pull you into him again, arms wrapped protectively around you. this time, instead of kissing you, he simply kept you secured in his embrace. your arms wrapped back around his shoulders, tugging him closer to you. he hummed contently the moment you hugged him close to you. his cologne invaded your senses as you rest your head on his shoulder, his warmth engulfing as you wait.

“did i tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” joaquin asked against your hair, a soft kiss pressing against your head. you smiled against him, nodding gently as you thought back. even before you’d left the hotel room earlier in the day, he was showering you in compliments. even if he hadn’t, his actions spoke loud enough - his lingering eyes, heated kisses, slightly roaming hands -, he was a doting boyfriend.

“yeah honey, you did,” you told him, your voice slightly muffled against him.

“good,” joaquin replied contently, smiling as he continued to hold you close. and, as much as you loved being in his embrace, you were beyond happy when your ride pulled up. you realized quickly how feet were aching as you waddled some more towards the vehicle. joaquin held the door open for you, guiding your head down to help you into the limo, following close behind you, shutting the door. you watched with a small pout when he didn’t sit next to you, rather in front of you. it wasn’t until he motioned towards him, eyes trailing down to your feet that you caught on to his intentions.

you lifted a leg up to rest your foot on joaquin’s thigh, pointing slightly as he immediately starts to undo your heel. he was always so gentle with the way he grabbed ahold of you and treated you, you sometimes wondered what you’d done to deserve it all. the moment he slide your heel off, he ushered you to switch feet, undoing and sliding your other heel off just as gently.

“that’s gotta hurt your feet, baby girl,” joaquin said, concern itched in his expression, setting your heels in his lap as you rest your feet down against the floor. you grumbled out in agreement, playing up your pain just a little. you got what you were searching for, your boyfriend quick to coo out apologies and praises to you.

it was only right for him to play into it, even if he hadn’t quite realized you were over exaggerating a little. after everything you’ve done for him tonight, standing by his side and accompanying him, being his biggest supporter, tugging him out the moment he showed signs of exhaustion, it was the least he could do. joaquin appreciated you beyond words. it was only right to show his gratitude to you, his rock. he couldn’t have gotten luckier with you.

#munsonify #joaquin torres #joaquin torres imagines #joaquin torres imagine #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x you #joaquin torres x fem!reader #joaquin torres x y/n #joaquin torres fluff #joaquin torres x fem reader #joaquin torres fic

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tfatwsbarnes · 2 months ago

Text

male bird courting | tlou jesse

summary: 3 times jesse embarrassed himself acting tough +1 time it worked

pairing: au beefcake!jesse x sunshine fem!oc — oc has no name, just referred to as ‘pretty girl’. more of jesse’s POV!

word count: 4.7k

warnings: mentions of violence, blood, death and sexual themes (no smut), romance, kissing and jesse being somewhat of a meathead. this is meant to be silly and cliche!

a/n: this will have inaccuracies of characters everywhere bc this is purely self indulgent. also the horde that happened on the show has been changed bc i said so. CALL IT AN AU IF YOU WILL. I have an oc locked IN but obvs imagine whomever as there’s minimal description! this idea came to me from the one scene of jesse in his slutty black t-shirt hammering away. mhm.

gif credit @pedgito

The first time was when Tommy Miller brought her to the stables whilst Jesse and Ellie were tossing hay bales for the stables.

"This is where our livestock are kept. The Jackson community — established and taken in by Maria and her father — helped build this from the ground up." His gravelled voice travelled far enough for Ellie Williams and her friend, Jesse, to halt their hauling of hay bales.

"Who is that?" Jesse asked as he watched the backs of Tommy and the new stranger tour around the stables, hands patting a few of the horses hoofing at the dried mud for some treats.

Ellie shrugged, "Haven't seen her before."

As the pair disappeared round the corner, Jesse caught a glimpse of her side profile, dimple so apparent as her eyes crinkled whilst speaking with the younger Miller brother. He didn't need an up close inspection to deduce that whoever Tommy was touring around the Commune; she was an outstanding level of beautiful.

Ellie swatted him to get back to her least favourable task, hoping Jesse would take the brunt of it so they could finish early and head back so she could stop by Dina's to smoke.

As they resumed, talking amongst themselves in between grunts of throwing the heavy stacks of hay, Tommy and the new resident rounded the stables and made a direct bee-line to where they were finishing up.

"Jesse, Ellie." Tommy called, "I want you to meet our new resident of Jackson." He gestured toward her, both of them halting their competitive hauling of the last of the bales. Tommy smiled, "I was jus' giving her a tour of the Commune before setting her up. This is Ellie Williams, she came here with my brother Joel, that you jus' met back there."

She nodded to confirmation before smiling and reaching a hand out to Ellie to shake as she announced her name. It took Ellie by surprise, nobody of their age really shook hands as a formal introduction. Also, most physical contact was limited since the Outbreak; people were suspicious of transmittable viruses.

"And this is, Jesse, uh—Jesse." Tommy internally cringed, not knowing the younger male's surname.

"Jesse Jesse, huh?" She teased as she went to shake Jesse's hand, "I won't forget that."

Jesse made quick work to rub off the majority of the clammy sweat on the palm of his hands, "Aha—" I won't forget you, he thought to himself, "—You just arrive here?"

"Just last night." She didn't go into further detail as she stepped back in line with Tommy Miller, her confidence shrouded by whatever history she had beyond the walls of the Jackson Commune.

Jesse nodded with a little more vigour than expected, flicking his hair from his eyes as he wanted to encourage her to speak more for his own self indulgence. Her voice was honey-coated, her tone dripping with an essence that enticed him in a Siren-like way. He was already stuck.

As Tommy, Ellie and the new girl continued the conversation, Jesse blinked a couple of times as he stared so obviously at her. The Spring Sun beaming on her skin, although, he thought, the glow was radiating from within her. Her doe-eyes scrunching as Ellie made a crude joke, that dimple he had noticed in full effect making him almost whimper like a kicked dog.

She spared him a glance with a friendly smile, and he felt himself turn to goo, a lopsided smile showing on his face.

Get it together, Jesse.

He straightened up, his chest puffing outward, arms crossing over his torso as he made an effort to pronounce his biceps. The cuffs of his black t-shirt straining against his muscles. Immediately, he rid of the grin on his face, tightening his jaw and pulling his brows into a sultry furrow. Eyes narrowed, although the sun was beating on his back — minor details, really.

Suddenly, Jesse was attempting to make himself three times bigger than he was, nodding along to Ellie who spared a second glance at him; her brows furrowing for a separate reason to his.

"Well, hate to cut this short—" Tommy cut in as Ellie mouthed a 'What the fuck are you doing?' to Jesse. The Miller male clapped his hands together, "—I gotta show her where she will be stayin'."

"It was nice meeting you both." She was genuine in her statement, both Ellie and Jesse catching the subtle lisp in her speech.

Jesse remained stoic and, well, large as he nodded, his lips pressed outward to give off a pout — it was then Tommy's turn to side-eye the guy.

"Likewise. If you like the horses, I can show you more of them. Maybe, even ride me—" The incidental sentence was out before his brain could compute to filter it. Eyes going wide, Jesse felt mortified as all sets of eyes stared at him, exasperated by what his sentence insinuated so soon after meeting the new resident. Knuckles going white as he dug his fingernails into the palm of his hands, Jesse huffed out a nervous laugh, "I meant, I meant ride them with me."

He had fumbled. He knew it.

It was only when a small, knowing smile crossed her face that Jesse let out a breath he had been holding. His broad shoulders deflating as the heat of embarrassment reached the top of his ears. He couldn't recall being this fucking sloppy with his game when he first met Dina. Even then, he had just met this girl, there was no immediate intention of scoring her in bed.

"Alrigh. . ." Brows furrowing for a moment, Tommy let a chuckle escape his lips as he watched Ellie press her lips into a thin line to prevent any laughter escaping. "Well, we'll be goin'. Thanks for y'all's help with livestock — Ellie, Joel was askin' for ya to swing by for some food later tonight." He tipped his head as a goodbye and guided the new girl away from the stables.

As they left, Ellie scoffed the request from Joel, soon ridding her thought of it as she turned to Jesse.

"What?" Jesse didn't want to know what. Actually, he wanted his question to be rhetorical.

"You were like a fucking male bird." Ellie stated making Jesse raise his brows. She dropped the string that held the hay bale together before hunching her shoulders, emphasising her arms as she mocked his pout, "Save a horse, ride me! All you needed was a couple of bright feathers sticking out of your ass." She laughed.

Jesse stared at her blankly as she mocked him further.

"Shut up and get the last of this bale on the trailer, so I can go get a drink." He picked up the penultimate bale with ease, cursing himself for how he acted as he watched her frame becoming smaller in the distance side by side with Tommy Miller.

Ellie, in fact, did not shut up that night.

The second time was a handful of weeks into Spring later. He had been watching Ellie spar with another Patrol member in the barn, offering her insight in how to retaliate in an appropriate manner towards her sparring mate. Back leant against a wooden pillar, and arms crossed as his eyes watched for any faults as they resumed their sparring, the door to the barn slid open; earning a turn of his head in interest.

He would've chastised whoever it was, if it weren't the leader of their Community and the whole reason they could spar so openly and loudly without the infected blitzing through.

Maria Miller watched as Ellie and the male continued their fight, Ellie happily pinning her component down with his arm twisted behind his back. Next to her stood the whole reason why Dina and Ellie nicknamed Jesse "Captain Male Bird" for a week after his incident upon meeting the pretty girl.

Immediately, Jesse pushed himself off of the pillar and walked toward them with a big grin on his features. He had seen her in passing a couple of times after their first introduction, most of the time he had been solely focussed on leading Patrol as she passed in the street with a wheelbarrow, or a horse on rope.

"Hey, Maria." Jesse spoke, acknowledging pretty girl also. He could feel it coming before he could prevent it from happening. As Maria greeted him, he crossed his arms across his chest, hands beneath his biceps to push the meat of his muscles out. Chin slightly tucked as he clenched his jaw, his eyes darting to the female who was staring past him at the pair fighting.

OK, he almost felt offended. But, then she looked back to him and offered another one of her smiles — dimple present — and he forgave her. No questions asked.

"Ellie is coming along in her sparring." Maria complimented, "Jesse, you'll now have this one in Patrol starting two weeks from today. She will be under your watch so I need you to put things in place for her to be prepared for Patrol in fourteen days."

Jesse didn't miss a beat, "Of course." He looked in her god damn pretty eyes, his tongue going fat, "You'll be under me—I mean, under my watch. I'll look after her, Maria."

The heat of embarrassment scorched in the tips of his ears, but neither women paid mind to his minor slip up as Maria bid farewell; leaving them to stand together. Partially alone for the first time.

Think of something. Anything! Jesse clambered at ideas to talk about, being mindful not to present a topic where he would trip over his tongue the minute she looked him directly in the eyes and entranced him with her tone. Speak about the fucking wheelbarrow, how good she looked wheeling it away — no. Scratch that.

"Is this part of training?" She asked before Jesse could finalise a topic to talk about with her.

Thankful, Jesse hummed, "Yeah. Sort of. A slim chance, but if you come toe-to-toe with a Raider, it's best to have some quality fighting skills under your belt. We try not to play dirty together, but it doesn't matter out on the field."

"A raider is a raider, right?"

"Right." Jesse affirmed, "You won't have to worry about all that though."

She looked up at him, "How so?"

"Well—You'll be with me."

"Oh, they go running when they see you?" She teased and Jesse let a smile slip past his brooding facade. She hummed, rolling onto the heels of her feet, "Can I try?"

"Ellie and Karl are done." Jesse watched the pair shake hands, wiping their noses of blood, Ellie quick to throw a wave to the girl standing next to him.

As Ellie approached, pretty girl quipped, "I could spar with you?"

Jesse and Ellie shared a laugh and the girl questioned their humour. She was smaller in frame compared to Jesse, in height and weight. Presumably, he had years of experience on her head even when they were similar in age. It would be out of the question, a record breaking fight that lasted a second.

There was a shine of disappointment in her face and, well, Jesse didn't like that he caused the wrinkle between her brows.

"OK. One round." Ellie gawped at Jesse as he casually put his hands on the pretty girl's shoulders, guiding her to the middle of the barn. He craned his neck to look back at Ellie, who began shamelessly flapping around like a bird. His middle finger went up.

Pretty girl turned around as they reached the middle of the barn, her eyes shifting to the horses pulling at the Play & Hay ball she had tied up for them in their pens that morning. Jesse watched as her face filled with glee, excited they were playing with them after she begged a few of the farmers to let her use them.

How could he possibly fight her?

Regardless, this was a chance to impress her. Gently. He didn't want to break any bones in her body, but he wanted to reaffirm that he could protect her against Raiders with his fighting skills.

"OK." He started, feet parting as he took his stance, "We'll take it slow, I'll go easy for you. Assess my movements and counteract them, if you can."

"Got it." She straightened up, her arms swinging back and forth to warm herself up for their spar. Ellie gave her a thumbs up from behind Jesse and she gave a playful wink.

Jesse wasn't jealous of that. No. But, he wouldn't let it slide as he took the opportunity of her distraction to advance toward her, he wouldn't be aggressive but he would prove a point that distraction could result in fatality on Patrol. No matter if he found her attractive or not.

As his stronger arm came out to grab her, Jesse's vision of the barn went from upright, to upside down, to finally staring up at the wooden slacks of the roof as the wind got knocked out of him; the dust between the hay unsettled and puffed into the air from the sheer force of his body landing in it.

He let out an 'oof' on impact, attempting to lift his head, before he saw a fist strike down like thunder. The sheer force knocking his head back into the concrete beneath the hay and his vision knocked black as he laid unconscious.

When he woke, he could hear the commotion around him, his eyes still bleary as he groaned out.

"Oh my god!" Her voice filtered through and Jesse furrowed his brows, hands coming to his chest, "Oh my god—I'm so sorry, I—I just got a fright, oh my god, Ellie, what do I do?"

Ellie's laughter came in thick, "That was fucking amazing!"

Jesse scrunched his eyes shut, before blinking a few times to get his vision back, two figures knelt above him. He went to sit up, only to feel the severe ache throb at the back of his head, stars shining vividly in his vision allowing him to gently be pushed back down. His head cushioned by a jacket.

"Jesse, I am so sorry." She whined, "Just lay there for a minute. You might have a concussion."

"Go slow and easy, he said." Ellie threw her head back, clutching her stomach as she found hilarity in the situation. She huffed a few breaths as pretty girl tended to the gash on the bridge of Jesse's nose.

Recollection from his short-term memory began, "What the fuck."

"Where did that even come from?" Ellie questioned, sitting on her backside, watching Jesse slowly come to his senses.

"Well. . . Before the outbreak, my dad had me going to self-defence classes the minute I could walk and talk, really." She mumbled an apology as Jesse hissed from the ache in his nose, she looked to Ellie, "I guess, reflexes never really go away."

"Reflexes? You threw a man twice your size over your shoulder! You have got to show me some moves." Ellie pleaded, her cheeks flushed with giddiness.

"Of course. . . Are you OK, Jesse?"

From the floor, Jesse tried to keep a cool composure, finally zoning back into the situation. The concoction of the dull throb from his brain being rattled against his skull and the pure mortification of being knocked unconscious so suddenly after claiming subtle bragging rights to being the winner of the spar even prior to beginning made Jesse link his fingers together, resting on his stomach as he silently processed his defeat.

He pulled an expression of coolness, pretending to shrug off his ego being bruised.

"I'm good." He shrugged.

"I am so sorry, again." Her fingers carefully brushed his hair from his forehead, a playful smile reaching her lips, "I'll go slow and easy next time."

"Help me up."

The third time was almost a sign for Jesse that pretty girl was a bad omen to his usual calm and collected cool nature.

The fourteen day window of training and education on their Patrol logistics had come to an end and Maria was satisfied enough with pretty girl's knowledge and understanding in depth for her to branch out on a Patrol day. She had gone with Jesse to see Maria, fist pumping as she walked out of her office, her hands shaking Jesse's bicep from glee at her green light to patrol.

There was a naivety to her excitement. He could count on one hand how many people were eager to go on patrol missions. Ellie and Joel, and him. The people tending to the other aspects of the Jackson Commune, tended not to stray far from the confides of their sector, understandably warranted, of course.

Albeit nervous as he felt a great responsibility to keep her safe, Jesse fed into her excitement, praising her for her hard effort; also offering gratitude for lending a helping hand with the sparring.

Their encounter kept between him, her and Ellie. And, Dina. Not that he knew about that.

"You’ll attend the brief with the other patrollers before heading out tomorrow." He advised to her.

"OK. Wow—This is kind of exciting, right?"

"If you like this kind of stuff, yeah." Jesse shrugged, "You're not nervous?"

She nodded, "Yeah. Last time I came face to face with an infected, I almost died." She shivered at the memory, "And, I've met some Raiders. They gave me a nasty scar, the width of my shoulder to my belly button. It's pretty ugly."

"I don't think there could be a correct sentence where you and ugly related." Jesse spoke confidently, without fumbling over his words. They had, had enough time together for Jesse to relatively overcome his bad case of 'fat tongue' around her.

Especially after the barn incident, pretty girl had whipped up a cake with icing that wrote 'Haven't had any complaints yet.' referring to her running joke asking about how his head was after it being smacked so viciously against concrete. They had shared the cake together, their conversation flowing effortlessly meaning Jesse could feel himself falling harder for her.

They had spent a good amount of time together over the fourteen days, so, Jesse felt more at ease and less male bird courting female bird poorly.

Pretty girl blinked at his compliment, "Thanks, Jesse." He smiled down at her, finally feeling a win was on his side as he held the door open for her to the Tipsy Bison for a celebratory drink.

The bar was relatively busy, it was a Friday night and most of the Commune had fulfilled their duties to the community, leaving them some wiggle room of two rest days. Thus meaning, their bellies would be full of whatever alcoholic beverage of their fancy to wash away any wandering thoughts back to times they prayed to forget.

It was pretty girl's first time there. She wasn't particularly a heavy drinker, but she had her fair share of hangovers throughout the years. There was no initial plan to get that drunk, seeing as her first ever patrol was the next day and, although she was aware of Jesse's state of the obvious soft spot for her, she didn't take advantage of the fact that he would easily take that 'Patrol Privilege' away.

A few heads turned upon their entry, mostof them turning back to their conversations, aside from Ellie and Dina who were waving at the pair from a corner far into the room. Hadn't it been for their relatively vigorous hand waving, Jesse and pretty girl may have not seen them for how dimly the scene was lit.

As she averted her gaze elsewhere, Jesse watched on as both Ellie and Dina frantically pointed at his hair, incoherent with their mouthing. Nevertheless, Jesse's confidence fell short as he snatched a spoon from the table adjacent to him, inspecting his appearance through the convex mirror. Nothing out of the ordinary, Jesse shared his expression of lack of patience with the two — now snickering — girls.

"Find us a seat. I'll grab the first round." He meant all the rounds that she would like, not that she needed to know that. He caught her feet turning in the direction of Ellie and Dina and he was quick to guide her in the opposite direction with one palm to her waist, "Preferably away from those two."

Heading to the bar, Jesse slipped between two older men finding their sorrows at the bottom their whiskies, waving down the bartender, Seth, to order drinks. Elbow leant, regrettably, against the sticky surface, Jesse turned his attention to where pretty girl had chosen their seats.

She sat, a polite smile on her face as a man towered above her. Whatever the conversation was, her body language was reading anything but comfortable.

Immediately abandoning his position at the bar, Jesse bee-lined for her, his chest puffing and jaw clenched for the opposite reason in which he's used to doing so. His large palm came into contact with the other male's arm, firmly turning him on the spot away from pretty girl, and in the direct pathway of Jesse.

"Hey, buddy. My girlfriend isn't interested." He deepened his voice an octave and pretty girl's eyes went wide, her hand pressing against her forehead as Jesse mean-mugged the stranger.

"Girlfriend? You didn't tell me you were dating?"

". . . Jesse—This is my brother."

The horde came in with little warning. Fingers splintered as they desperately clawed themselves entry into the Commune, jaws snapping at the hunger for flesh. Bullets ricocheted off the surroundings, some hitting a few stragglers but not enough to keep them at bay as they broke through the barrier that separated the living from the dead.

Eager to protect and maintain the quality of their Commune, all hands were on deck, aside from the obvious candidates that didn't fit the role of protectors of Jackson. Guns in hands, the walls and streets were manned as the residents shot from all angles to prevent the horse from advancing within their home.

It was no easy feat, as all kinds of infected clambered in, taking down people whose guns didn't protect them enough against the onslaught occurring. In amongst the chaos, Jesse was shooting down what he could, his knife unsheathed as he took on some Clickers that were feasting upon defenceless residents that had been knocked over.

Kicking the deceased Clicker down, making a point to put a bullet through its head as it hit the concrete beneath it, Jesse assessed the situation around him; his breath wavering as he watched the people he had grown close to be mowed down.

Their training had prepared them for this. It had been expressed as a rarity, if not, completely out of the question that an infected horde would breach their safe haven in Wyoming and they'd be left to fight for all their livelihoods that was meticulously built for years and years. Regardless of their preparation, the ultimate shock of these creatures making an appearance was a hard pill to swallow. Even for the likes of Jesse.

Gun lifted, Jesse popped a few Runners, grunting as he reloaded, his ears ringing with the cacophony of wails of the dying members of their community. He could feel the bile scorch in his throat, stepping over dead bodies to get a cleaner shot at the infected.

Exhaling through his nose, he shot down another Runner, his aim faltering as he spotted pretty girl amongst the moving bodies, the butt of her gun being brought down on an already confirmed dead infected. Her face sprayed with human blood, eyes widened with fear as she stumbled away from the corpses.

He took a step forward, calling her name out making her snap her head towards where she heard the faint call. Lips parted and chest heaving, she waved casually at him as if they were crossing paths on an ordinary day in the Commune. For a moment, he chuckled at her gesture, waving back before locking back in — bullets flying through the air as he made his way across the street to her.

Continuously delayed getting to her, the fight continued for longer than anticipated. It seemed there was an endless amount of infected bustling through the broken gates, a Bloater spotted feet above the rest. This had sent a few people reeling, the shooters from above doing their best to take it down to no avail.

Tommy Miller took that task on the moment he saw the Bloater heading his wife's way.

Bloater distracted, Jesse lost sight of her, his head snapping in all directions, anticipating the worst. There was a moment of turmoil, before he spotted her further away, helping the injured but not bitten people up by the arms whilst she shot in the opposite direction.

Amidst the carnage of the bloodbath, pretty girl looked angelic to Jesse, although slick with mud and blood, her gritted teeth bared as she released an unquenchable anger on the infected close by. If they made it out of it alive, Jesse ought to ask her on a proper date. What else has he got to lose?

Her back turned for a moment, kneeling to help a woman up, and Jesse watched in real time as a Clicker advanced to her defenceless body, her name leaving his mouth in sheer panic before he broke out into a sprint; feet pounding against the ground to get to her.

The Clicker had managed to catch her off guard when she turned, a scream escaping her throat as it slammed her into the ground, its fungal blossomed head inches away from hers as she fought hard against it.

She closed her eyes shut tight, a cry replacing the scream as her arms became tired from holding the heavy body away from her. Nobody particularly wanted to die when the time wasn't right, but the odds didn't look to favour her as she grew weaker.

As her hands slipped, she braced for impact of the infected sinking into the meat of her neck, her breath caught at the back of her throat as she watched Jesse throw the Clicker off of her body, his face thunderous as he took his steel-toe capped boot and brought it down on the Clicker's head. The sheer force of the stomp killed the Clicker, but he didn't stop.

Boot squelching in the residue of the innards of the Clicker, Jesse cocked his gun and put a bullet through its chest for good measure. He was seething, the muscles in his arms flexing as he continued his battery on the singular — what once was — threat.

The heels of her hands pressed into the ground to hold her weight, pretty girl watched Jesse with her mouth agape. Her eyes trailing over his body, he could've been a sculpture carved out of marble. She blinked a couple of times, brought back to the present as Jesse turned to her, broad chest heaving as he offered a hand out to help her up.

As he helped her up, he rattled out, "I thought I told you to watch your back during our training."

"You told me not to worry." She stammered over her breathlessness, "Because I had you."

Jesse mulled it over and shook his head, "I did not mean—"

"—Will you shut up and give me a kiss."

Jesse didn't even hesitate. Feverishly, he pulled her in by her hand, throwing it over his shoulder as his hands pressed firmly across her back. Lips pressed against each other as their chests met, Jesse smirked into her lips, the idea of her feeling his toned muscles beneath his clothes. Despite his warranted cockiness, if pretty girl concentrated hard enough, she’d be able to feel the immense pounding of his heart. The endless amounts of showing himself off in front of her, resulted in a desperate anticipation to see if she felt an ounce of the same as he did. Even if she didn’t have half of the feelings, Jesse had enough to spare for the both of them.

Her delicate hands slipped from behind his head and onto his pecs, Jesse flexing them as the palms of her bloodied hands pressed against the fabric of his shirt. He was in such a state of euphoria, he couldn’t hear Maria Miller shouting harshly at them from the tops of the walls — pretty girl neither.

She pulled away slightly, their lips still brushed against each other, “I felt like a female bird being courted just now.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He pressed another kiss to her lips as she laughed.

Jesse was going to kill Ellie Williams.

#🔖 koolie writes #this is so pathetic #i couldn’t help myself #even w/ bad writing and plot #the last of us #tlou #jesse tlou #jesse x fem!oc #jesse tlou fic #jesse tlou imagine #joel miller #ellie williams #pedro pascal #young mazino #gabriel luna #jesse jesse lmao

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jobean12-blog · 5 months ago

Text

Make It Last

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Mob/Mafia AU)

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: When the most powerful man in the city wants you, it's hard to say no. Obviously he's hard to resist but considering his significance in the city you can't help but wonder if you're just another piece of arm candy, so if he wants you, he'll just have to wait.

Author's Note: I've been thinking about Mob!Bucky a lot and what it would be like the first time with him. Lovely Sydney @buck-star had sent me a Mob!Bucky thot last week and he's just so yummy! Hope you enjoy, thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: lots of build up and tension to lots of smutty fun. Bucky is dominant but also soft and gives you everything you want. Oral (f rec), p in v (wrap it up but no need here bc it's Mob!Bucky and he's good and already checked you out haha), light praise and overstim, Bucky can't get enough and you don't want him to.

“It might last longer if he just takes a picture!”

You laugh but you don’t look at your friend even after she makes the joke.

“Why is he even here? Didn’t you tell him you’d be out with the me?” she adds.

At her question you turn to Nat and raise a brow.

“He owns the place. What am I gonna do? Have security remove him for staring too much?”

Nat laughs into her drink but shakes her head. “I guess that won’t work…but it doesn’t bother you at all?”

You give Bucky one more lingering glance then turn your full attention to Nat.

“Under different circumstances it might but it’s sort of my fault that he’s so…worked up.”

“What does that mean?” Nat asks as she leans in closer with a smirk.

You take another sip of your drink. “Well, speaking of pictures…I sent him some while I was getting ready…”

Nat pauses then says, “and? Hasn’t he seen you naked already. You’ve been dating almost a month.”

“We haven’t had sex yet.”

She nearly spits out her drink. “You haven’t fucked that man yet?” She peeks over your shoulder at Bucky, who still has his full attention on you.

“I know,” you sigh. “I can’t believe I’ve lasted this long. But honestly, he’s the most powerful man in the city. He probably has had every woman alive. Why me? I didn’t want to just sleep with him and then…that’s it.”

Nat nods in understanding. “So, you’re making him work for it.”

“Work for it, wait for it…I like him. A lot. And I’m hoping that this shows him I want more than just a good fuck.”

“I bet he’s the best fuck…ever!”

Nat’s words send you into a fit of giggles that dissolve as you feel him approach, the heat at your back followed but a shiver from his whispered words against your ear.

“Enjoying yourself doll face?”

You turn your head, your face so close to his you nearly bump noses.

“I am Bucky, thank you.”

“Good,” he says. “And this is your last drink.”

Your eyes widen at his statement, and you open your mouth to argue but he places a long finger against your lips to silence you.

“I want you completely coherent when I fuck you tonight. I want you to remember everything I do to you.”

With a hard swallow you whisper, “ok,” and your eyes drop to his lips. He kisses you, sweet and soft and way too quickly.

“My car will be outside at eleven.”

He says goodbye to Nat before walking off and disappearing behind one of the doors at the back of the club.

“What was that about?” Nat asks. “You look like you might pass out.”

“I’m going to sleep with him tonight,” you answer, nearly breathless.

Your eyes roam over his body, his black button-up shirt tucked into black pants. The first two buttons of his shirt are left undone, hinting at the expanse of skin beneath and highlighting the long and muscular line of his neck. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his corded forearms and prominent veins shift as he removes the lustrous watch on his wrist.

You stand and wait, watching him as he slowly stalks closer.

“Do you know how hard it’s been? How hard I’ve been…waiting?”

Your eyes drop to his pants and the clear outline of him pressing along the lush fabric. You reach out, your fingertips just brushing against him and his breath comes out in a sharp exhale.

He wraps his fingers around your wrist and drags you into his chest, pressing you against every inch of him. His lips find yours in a hungry kiss, his hands slowly tracing your curves until they cradle your face.

“Are you finally going to let me have you?” he murmurs against your lips.

Your palms flatten along his chest, and you kiss him softly.

“Yes,” you whisper.

“My favorite word,” he breathes before kissing you again.

His hands move to your back, finding the zipper of your dress and toying with the small piece of metal. You whimper with impatience, and you feel his smile against your mouth before he spins you around, so your back is to him.

Goosebumps break out across your skin as he smooths his fingertips over the curve of your shoulder then drops his hand back to the zipper, slowly pulling it down until the fabric pools at your feet.

He hums in approval, kissing the back of your neck and then the space between your shoulder.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing the lace of your undergarments.

He turns you to face him again and then gently guides you toward the bed, pushing until you sit. He kneels, taking your foot in his hand and sliding off your heel. He repeats the action with your other foot and smooths his palm along your calf with a delicate caress.

“So soft,” he sighs then stands, gazing down at you. “So beautiful.”

He starts to unbutton the rest of his shirt, but you stand to stop him, taking the fabric between your fingers and teasingly undoing the buttons until you can push it off his shoulders.

Your fingertips lightly scrape down his chest, lingering over every scar you find before your lips press to the puckered skin.

His eyes close and he whispers your name.

When your fingers reach his pants, trembling slightly, you pull the zipper down. You reveal his boxers and the noticeable bulge beneath the tight material.

You lick your lips and brush your fingers through the soft hair just above the waistband then dip them inside, sliding your hand along every warm, silky inch of him.

He throbs in response, your thumb tracing the tip and smearing the wetness there. You kiss him all over, not taking him into your mouth yet but teasing with your lips.

“Doll,” he warns and unclenches a fist to stop you. “If you keep that up this will be finished before we even start.”

You let out a soft gasp as he helps you stand and pushes you back onto the bed. His hands skim your thighs, pulling your legs up and placing them on either side of his hips. He hovers over you, staring, the curling wisps of his dark hair falling across his forehead.

When he slides his hand between the mattress and your back, you lift yourself, giving him access to unhook your bra. He makes quick work of it but takes his time as he peels it from your body to reveal your breasts.

He stares again, his cheeks flushed and the muscles in his arms and chest straining. You reach for him, pulling him down for a kiss and pressing your bodies together. His lips trail down your neck, to your collarbone, soft nips at your skin before he continues his descent, lips leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

His tongue teases your nipple then sucks it into his mouth making your back arch in pleasure. He pays the same attention to your other breast, teasing, licking, nibbling, and soothing.

You feel his smile against your skin as he pulls away to kiss down your stomach, keeping one hand on your breast.

His name falls from your parted lips when he presses a kiss between your legs, the thin fabric of your panties doing little to dampen the heat of his breath.

He sits back, gazing down at you, fingers teasing the waistband of lace at your hips.

“Do you want my mouth doll?”

You nod, your hips squirming.

“I want to hear the word.”

“Yes!”

A satisfied look crosses his face as he hooks his thumbs into the soft material and pulls it off, purposefully dragging the tips of his fingers down your thighs and calves.

His kiss is a barely there whisper of his lips to your clit, yet it causes your entire body to quiver. He does it again and again until you’re begging for more.

Finally, his tongue flattens, and he tastes you in a long lick from top to bottom. You cry out, bucking and pushing your hips into his face. He closes his lips around your clit and sucks, applying the perfect amount of pressure to make you tremble.

His hands dig deeper into your thighs, the rings adorning his fingers leaving marks in your skin as your calves come to rest on his shoulders, opening you wider for him. His tongue circles your clit before sweeping lower and dipping inside you. Your fingers grasp his hair, another breathless moan leaving your lips.

After bringing you to the edge he pulls back and lets you catch your breath, but it’s short lived as his finger circles your clit before sliding lower to sink inside you.

“More Bucky,” you breathe.

He pulls his finger out and rubs along your entrance with two, teasing you, before only pushing one back inside.

You bring your hand down toward him, needing more, but he quickly intercepts it. He withdraws his fingers and gathers your wrists together with one hand, bringing both arms stretched out above your head.

“Keep them there,” he orders.

You start to nod but then quickly reply with a breathy, “yes.”

He bends down to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth before sinking his teeth into it. He moves back down your body, his tongue working you over, no longer teasing, but with purpose.

It takes everything in you not to let your hands fall to his hair and when he suddenly pushes two fingers inside you, giving you what you asked for, you moan out in pleasure.

His long fingers reach deep inside you, and combined with his attention to your clit, you can feel your release building.

A warm, tingling sensation spreads through your body and your breathing turns ragged as your muscles tense.

He doesn’t stop, working you through your release and prolonging it until you’re a trembling mess beneath him.

You open your eyes to find him watching you with a heated gaze.

“Fuck doll face. I could watch you come undone for me like that every day for the rest of my life.”

His thumb sweeps over your sensitive and swollen clit and your eyes roll back.

“Again,” he murmurs, dipping between your legs before you can respond.

His lips replace his thumb, his fingers resuming their previous pace as he slides his free hand under your lower back to effortlessly lift you and bring you closer.

Everything feels ten times more sensitive now and you fight with the clashing sensations of pulsating pleasure and the soreness of overstimulation.

You feel your release approaching quickly and your eyes squeeze shut but his commanding voice pulls you from your haze.

“No,” he growls. “Open them. Look at me.”

You obey, opening your eyes again, and the sight of him between your spread thighs sends you over the edge.

“Bucky,” you choke out.

“Gorgeous,” he whispers. “But not nearly enough.”

You struggle to sit up, your eyes falling to his cock resting against his abdominals. He smirks and grips himself, pumping his hand slowly up and down his length.

“Do you need a break doll?”

“No,” you tell him, letting your legs fall open.

He settles between them, his lips kissing your neck and the sensitive spot below your ear. He slides his hand down between your bodies and rubs himself against you teasingly.

“What is it?” he asks, pausing at the slight tensing in your body.

“Nothing Bucky.”

“Tell me doll face,” he demands. “I’ll stop if you want me to.”

“No!” you say quickly. “No. It’s not that. You’re just…bigger than what I’m used to.”

He smirks, rolling his hips slowly, not pressing in yet.

“You can take it doll.”

His hand moves to your face, grasping your jaw, keeping you looking up at him.

“Keep your eyes on me.”

“Yes Bucky.”

His other hand grips your waist, holding you steady, and your breath catches in your throat as he begins to press into you, then came out in a low moan as he unhurriedly sinks in, making you feel every throbbing inch of him.

Your eyes flutter closed, but then his fingers dig into your jaw, a silent reminder to keep your eyes open. Your body stretches to accommodate him, the initial burn giving way to sweet friction as you relax.

He continues to move maddeningly slowly, his gaze never leaving yours, the intimacy of the moment making your pulse pick up in a way that has nothing to do with his languid movements.

He lets out a soft exhale as he finally stills, settled fully inside you. Your inner walls flutter around him as you adjust to his size, and he pulls back slightly, only to push back in with more force, drawing another moan out of you.

“See doll. You take me so well,” he praises. “Do you want more?”

“Yes,” you say, your hands wrapped around his biceps, feeling the power in his muscles as he holds himself over you.

He draws back until only the tip remains inside you and then slips back in slowly. You lift your hips with impatience but his hand pushes on your stomach to pin you back down to the bed.

He leans in to kiss you, softly and with sweet, whispered words. The slow roll of his hips builds tightness in your stomach, and he takes your hand in his, pressing it next to your head, entwining your fingers.

You slide your free hand through his hair, dragging your fingers through the soft strands and then down his neck. He closes his eyes, savoring the sensation, his hold on your hand tightening.

“I could come just from this,” he says huskily, lips dropping down to your ear. “Just from the sight of you completely ruined under me.”

His words make you squeeze around him, and he lets out a low, deep rumbling moan into your neck. You jerk your hips up toward him, your legs trying to draw him closer and deeper.

He lets go, pumping his hips faster, fingers digging into your thigh possessively as your body jolts with the force of it.

With a precise and purposeful rhythm, he keeps a relentless pace until your body explodes with every sensation and all you can do is hold onto him and listen to the rough sound that comes deep from his throat.

He pants against your neck, then trails soft kisses along your jaw to your lips, his kiss slow and deep, making you breathless all over again. Your heart beats frantically between you, his own a rapid thump, thump, thump, against his sweaty chest.

With gentleness he pulls out and lays down next to you, throwing his arm over your waist and curling you toward him. You quickly get lost in his cocoon of warmth, sighing, and closing your eyes, but he presses two fingers under your chin, lifting your gaze to his.

“I want to clean you up,” he whispers. “And I want you to stay the night with me.”

Your quiet “yes,” makes him smile proudly and he carefully extracts himself, returning quickly with a warm cloth and delicate hands.

He slides up the bed and pulls you to him, closing the distance and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, then the corner of your mouth and finally your lips. His hand cradles your face, his thumb swiping over your lips, applying enough pressure to part them.

Then his hand glides along your throat and his fingers close around the back of your neck to angle your head in a way that allows him a deeper kiss.

When he pulls away his nose gently bumps yours and he opens his eyes, ghosting his lips to yours as he whispers, “so perfect for me doll.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan #bucky barnes imagine #mob!bucky #mafia!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #mob!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #mob au #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes fic

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purelyfiction · 17 days ago

Text

Small Doses - 3

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x F!Reader | Part 1 | Part 2 |

Summary:

Word Count: words

Content Warning: This story will have TopGun: Maverick plot line elements to it and will possibly spoil the movie for you. Please be aware. This - and all of my stories - is 18+. By continuing to read you agree that you are 18 or older and that any content you come across is by your own discretion. || HEY THERE’S SMUT DOWN THERE SO YOU BETTER BE 18!!! (unprotected piv (don’t be hangman - use protection pals), including public and semi-public settings; possessive and intense behavior; strong language; physical marking (hickies); power dynamics in sexual situations; interrupted intimacy; implied consent.)

Author’s Note: remember when i said 'long time no see!' and then didn't update for over a year???? yeah me too. so much has happened since the last time i updated this story and i think it's about damn time for some new stuff in knockout x hangman land (hangout? i guess?) also i've had one other pair of eyes on this other than mine so keep any plot holes or grammar mistakes to yourself bc i cannot take criticism at this time. k thanksssss

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It’s Half-Price Wing Wednesday at the Hard Deck. Which means that it’s a given that everyone (actually everyone) would be commiserating over drinks and cheap chicken after work. And despite the fact that seeing Jake outside of work again was as bad of an idea as leaving your car unlocked in LA - you decide to go to the bar.

The two of you haven’t spoken much outside of direct conversations over comms at work. You’d scolded him for ditching his wingman - then handed his ass to him. He didn’t speak to you the rest of the day.

You change at home, throwing on a pair of jean shorts and a random shirt. You’re not looking to impress, you’re just needing to unwind. And when you pull up in the familiar vehicle, you’re immediately spotted. You’re not sure why you even try to walk into the building, hell, why you even attempt to sneak past the familiar F150. Jake spots you instantly and grabs a hold of you by the pocket of your shorts, tugging you between his truck and the car next to him. You’re lucky the sun is setting and it’s near dark when Jake latches to your neck.

“And where do you think you’re running off to?” his breath is hot on your skin, teeth scraping against already slick skin.

“Hangman, I’m going to the bar. I’m hungry, don’t test me.” You can’t move from the spot, locked against the side of the vehicle, chest to chest with the man.

He huffs out a laugh, “yeah, so am I.” It’s punctuated with a familiar click of a car door handle, before he’s guiding you into the back seat. You’ve got half the mind to shut this down. There are so many people you both know - your students - that could see this. When you thought about it, laying back on the leather of the truck’s cab seats, the man above you was also your student. Suddenly you don’t care as much.

The click of the locks on each of the doors sounds. Someone has clearly learned his lesson. Lock the damn door if you’re about to wreck someone. Jake’s lips carelessly slot themselves between yours, his hips digging into yours as he eagerly grabs at your shirt. You’re almost certain if you hadn’t needed to abide by the ‘no shoes, no shirt’ policy at the Hard Deck, he would’ve torn the old t-shirt in two.

You’re also sure that Penny would be mortified if she knew what was happening in her parking lot right now. Not that it was the first time you’ve done this. Or Jake. Thank god she would never find out.

Unless she went snooping under your bed, there was no way to know what the two of you had been up to. Or that a six foot sailor climbed out her window the next morning.

Jake abandons the idea of getting you naked, needing to get release from pent up need that didn’t get an escape the other night. The button of your shorts pops in a matter of seconds as his heavy breaths fall from him.

“No colorful monologue? Super disappointed, two stars, Jake.” Hands quickly tug your denim shorts down, just below your knees, underwear going with it before one hand is undoing his belt, the other sliding up your thigh slowly.

“I don’t know if you noticed, I’m a little preoccupied.” A finger glides through your folds, a laugh leaving him when he feels the slickness there. “What a slut you are, I grabbed you not even five minutes ago and you’re already soaked for me.”

You’re fully convinced that his words are what keep you coming back. It wasn’t the vivid green eyes or the towering height he was known for. Or the charismatic grin he always shoots at you. Like a hunter when he witnesses his prey. None of those things did you in the way that his smart tongue did.

That same tongue is making his way back past your lips, preventing any further smartass comments from you. It’s just hot, shallow breaths through noses that are smushed up against one another. His hands are moving in a practiced pattern, one toying with you as he shuffles his jeans around, pushing them down just enough. One knee pushes your legs further apart, allowing him to properly position himself. Jake soon enough recedes his hand, much to your chagrin. It relocates itself to your hip, the other matching its counterpart. He peels himself from you momentarily before tugging your body closer towards his own. “Get your ass over here.”

The motion causes your shirt to roll up underneath you. The leather seats were bound to stick to your skin as the heat of California snuck into the dark cabin of the truck. Especially once Jake has fully entered you, and begun to rut into you.

Familiarity and pleasure meld together as he stretches you. The sound slips from you and he chastises you. “Hey, pipe down, baby. I’ll know you were just fucked, but no one else needs to know you did.” His words are paired with that stupid grin again.

Your eyes sink shut with the sensation he’s starting to build up, a hand on the back of the passenger seat for stability, the other gripping your thigh. Hot kisses are littered up your neck-

The cab ceiling echoes a thunk, thunk above the both of you.

“Yo! I’m starvin’ man, get your ass outta there!” Payback’s voice is barely audible through the tempered and tinted glass. And thank God it was.

“Pen’s gonna run outta drumsticks and you’re gonna be pissed. I don’t wanna hear it.” Mickey tags in. Oh good, now you’re thinking of your aunt while this man is on top of you. And in you.

The mood is once again murdered in cold blood. Jake is cursing under his breath, multitudes about kicking someone’s ass and losing his sanity and his balls to his team’s interruptions. His dramatics continue once your shorts are back where they belong, and his own pants are fastened. “Do you think they make those deer repelling devices for invasive aviators?” The suggestion makes you snort and you expertly climb down from the lifted vehicle. Jake nods your direction, a silent suggestion to go ahead. The last thing you needed was for you to appear in the bar simultaneously.

You settle into a booth with a drink in your hand not even ten minutes later. The cool liquid is appreciated, as is the quick service to order your wings. Looking around - there’s no sign of Hangman. Cautiously, you look back to the table full of coworkers as your regular waitress takes your orders. “Shouldn’t we wait for Hangman?” You suggest. Phoenix is the one to speak up.

“He wants wings, he can get his high and mighty ass in here.” With that, she’s easily ordering her food. Not even sixty seconds after the staff leaves the table, Jake appears. He smells like his go to cologne. Did he keep a bottle in his truck? You could vomit a little. And to think he was just inside you fifteen minutes ago.

“Finally, we thought you weren’t ever gonna show.” Coyote gripes, scooting down the booth to make room for the pilot.

The U shaped booth could hold just about all of you - which is why Bob and Rooster are sitting at a high top not far off. Bob had been asking questions about Bradshaw’s Bronco, and you all figured it was best to let them continue in the spontaneous interview.

Once you’ve scooted a few ways down, Hangman settles in right across the table from you. His hands fiddle with a menu, looking over his options. You avoid his eye contact, turning instead to the conversation that is sparking up.

“Question for you, Bagman.” Phoenix remarks, Jake nods, not lifting his eyes from the laminate page. “That helmet for protection, or just keeping your ego contained? Might wanna check the buckle tomorrow.”

The breath you take in feels way sharper than you intended it being. Jake’s eyes float up to Phoenix and then the rest of the table. He finally sets the menu down.

“Appreciate the advice, Trace. I’ll double-check my buckle — and you, maybe wipe your visor next time. Could help you actually hit something.” You bring your bottom lip between your teeth, fighting back a grin. It almost felt normal here. Well, if you forgot about the outstanding weirdness between you and Jake, you could’ve been one of the gang. Never mind the fact that you were a co-instructor for this group of individuals.

That was a reality you weren’t really unwrapping quite yet. These guys were around your age. You’d been in their shoes not even a year ago. Now suddenly you’re in charge and teaching them. It felt odd and in retrospect, how much did they actually have to learn from you?

Perhaps that's why you are a co-instructor and not the lead. Suddenly, you’re grateful for the experience. Then you remember that the instructor is the same man that broke your aunt’s heart and the discontentment burrows itself right back where it had been residing during its hibernation. Your mind is rebooted when a plate of wings is slid in front of you. Your priorities change very quickly after that.

With dinner out of the way, the group of you surrender your table to other hungry customers, before staking claim at the pool table, like usual. You’re not very good at billiards but that doesn’t stop you from partnering up with Phoenix against Rooster and Fanboy. Bob and Payback sit as onlookers. Coyote and Hangman are on the far side of the room, cuddled up to the dartboard. It isn’t until you’re watching Rooster take his turn that you overhear their conversation.

“I’ve had that thing for years man. And I’ve been doing some shopping online, trying to find something to replace the damn thing - we’re talkin’ 200 bucks for a piece of wood. I don’t even drink coffee for God’s sake.” He huffs the air out with the propelling dart leaving his hand. “Not to mention, your little guest appearance yesterday left me high and dry with her. Thanks for that by the way.” Jake sends another dart soaring.

“How was I supposed to know you had a girl over? It was right after work, I didn’t think you’d get into it so damn quick.” The green eyed male glares at his counterpart before approaching the board and grabbing his darts so that Coyote can take his turn.

“I wasn’t replying to any texts, so you thought to just show up unannounced? You know what, next time I’ve got an inkling you’ve got a girl ‘round, I’ll be sure to introduce myself.” He scoffs, shaking his head. “It’s been almost a week and we keep gettin’ interrupted.” He grumbles. “I swear my sister’s husband has better luck getting laid and they’ve got two under two.”

“That’s probably why they’ve got two under two.” Coyote snorts.

The clack of the billard balls reminds you that you’re supposed to be paying attention to the game in front of you. Rooster apparently has sunk two balls in while you were eavesdropping on the conversation. Good for him.

You take your turn rather hastily before pushing your stick into Phoenix’s hand. “I’m gonna go grab another drink.” You say.

“Grab me another?” The glass in her hand rattles as she shakes the ice in front of you.

“Sure thing, Phe.” You give her a kind smile before heading off to the bar. Penny greets you, quickly starting on your drink. “I need one for Phoenix too.” You add, which she notes.

“Yeah, I’ll have Ryan grab that, sweetheart. Ry!” The brunette calls out to the other person behind the bar top, who’s currently closing a tab. A dark haired man with glasses turns to look at your aunt. “You got a second hand that can pour me a draft of Liberty Pole when you get a minute?” When your drink arrives in front of you, the woman swiftly makes her way to the next bar occupant.

Bespectacled, Ryan appears in front of you not long after that. He pushes the glass toward you with a grin. “There you are, beautiful.”

You let a small smile creep over your features. “You don’t need to sweet talk the boss’ niece you know.” It’s more teasing than you intended on it being. You’d had it happen before, seasonal help trying to flirt with you in hopes you’d relay their generosity to Penny for some brownie points.

“I was sweet talking a pretty lady. Not the boss’ niece.” He clarifies. Curiosity digs at you.

“Oh? That so?” There’s an easy grin that follows your quizzical comments. Ryan lets out a snicker with a nod.

“Yes ma’am. I’d offer to keep your drinks on the house, but- I’d hate for you to think I’m playing favorites.” You swear he winks at you.

“Dually noted, Ryan.” The words float with the same energy he’s been giving you. It wouldn’t kill you to live a little. Not like things with Jake were actually going to go anywhere.

You half expect him to have a girl on his arm when you turn back toward the pool table. There’s no girl. In fact, there’s no Jake.

Coyote’s joined in the crowd that’s gathered over the table, talking strategy with Rooster when you return. Natasha gives an easy thank you as she takes her beer. You almost spill it when the deafening bass of the jukebox roars over the room. A high pitched guitar and steady drumline follow it.

It sounds like bar music. It startled you, only due to the noise it was creating. It seemed to have annoying characteristics to everyone else around you. Phoenix’s head drops backwards as she groans outwardly. There’s a similar air of displeasure among the group.

Your brow furrows as Rooster pushes his stick into Fanboy’s free hand, before disappearing into the growing crowd of the bar. When you look at the dark haired woman and her backseater, they’re looking at each other in annoyance.

“Am I missing something?” You question, before the jukebox dies completely. The collective sound of the room is a mix of groans and call outs to whoever stopped the music. Everyone is looking in the direction of the jukebox. All you can make out through the crowd is a moving Hawaiian shirt, followed by a few tickling keys of a piano wafting over the room.

You don��t get to linger in it very long before your drink is stolen from your hand and you’re practically kidnapped from behind. If you didn’t recognize the feeling of the hands on your waist - you would’ve audibly screamed.

Jake’s pulled you back and then directed you toward the bathrooms, a familiar sight for many reasons. There was the time you threw up for a consecutive forty-five minutes after a friend’s bachelorette party when you were twenty-four. Then there was the summer in high school you worked as a waitress for Penny when the seasonal help was behind schedule due to an influx of bad weather. You swore you’d never scrub another toilet ever again, god willing.

Though, this bathroom is less familiar. A lot less familiar.

He’s pushed you into the men’s bathroom.

“Jake, what are you-” he navigates around you to check the duo of stalls in the room before returning to the door; then locking it.

“You don’t get to talk.” His tone is sharp, the words nearly ricocheting off the tile of the walls. “You’re gonna listen.” No sooner than he’s said it, is he right in front of you. Hands are under your thighs, quickly and efficiently picking you up off the floor and dropping you to the middle of the countertop behind you.

“I ain’t in the fuckin’ mood to watch you make eyes at some toothpick with glasses behind the bar.” He rasps, his hands moving to your shorts again. “You want attention? You got it. But don’t come cryin’ to me when you can’t sit in that damn cockpit tomorrow without feelin’ me everywhere.”

His hands are all over you. He’s undone the button of your shorts, pushed your shirt up enough to expose your abdomen and has quickly started marking up the skin there with his lips. Nimble and skilled hands are shimmying your shorts down your body.

Your hand comes up to try to readjust your position, pushing against a soap dispenser on the wall. He is downright possessive. Frankly, you had no idea he’d even seen you at the bar. He’d been watching?

“Should I be filing a restraining order? What with how close you’re watching me and-”

Blonde hair bounces on his head when it pops up from his hickey-making efforts.

“What the fuck did I say?” His jaw clenches, ticking with restrained heat. Your stomach knots. It was barely a few words—harmless, stupid flirting. But that doesn’t seem to matter now. Not when Jake shoves his jeans down only to grab your hips like a man about to make a point.

The familiar splitting sensation floods your core, your jaw slacking as he pushes into you. The back of your head has met the mirror behind you, the cool sensation a very recognizable contrast. Jake’s grip is like a vice on your body, moving with practiced precision to work his cock into the best position, the deepest angle.

He knows when he’s reached it by the sharp cry that escapes your throat. The smirk that it earns on his face seems to help melt some of the intensity in his body. “ I don’t think I heard you, sweetheart. Could you repeat that?” Lips are right by your ear as the stroke is repeated, somehow sinking deeper this time. The cry is a little more drawn out, leaving the bulk of man pressing against you snickering. “Atta girl.” He chimes, his pace picking up a little.

After being interrupted twice before, you half expected him to be done as soon as he started. Fuck, were you wrong. His hips piston in a rhythmic pattern, leaving your body rocking up against the wall. One hand propped up against his shoulder, the other still on the dispenser. You can feel your eyes drifting shut, but Jake’s hand comes to the back of your head.

“Absolutely not. Eyes open.” You follow the command diligently, eyes locking onto his. “Hi pretty girl,” he coos, smirking as a brief second of instability crosses his face. He soon enough recovers, his pace picking up when he does. The new speed has your lower back begging to readjust.

Before you can even ask, your hand gives way, and a loud clatter comes from the wall. You glance over, only to find the soap dispenser has pulled from the wall anchors in between the tiles. Jake slows down enough to pull you to the very edge of the counter.

“What are the fucking odds?” He mutters. He can’t help the laughs that leave him, pulling out and looking at you. Your breath is heavy, trying to catch it as you slide off the counter. The damage had to be a sign that it was time to stop.

Jake Seresin doesn’t believe in signs.

That’s evident when he takes your arm, spins you to face the mirror and rests his hand on your back. Your eyes lock with his in the mirror.

“Bend.” You listen. Your forearms come down to the cold countertop, your chest flush to the granite. His hands travel down your spine, over your hips and down to your ass. Very carefully, he’s tugging ever so slightly, letting himself get a better look. “You’ve got such a pretty pussy, sweetheart.” Jake compliments while adjusting his stance. He eases back into you again, watching your expression wilfully. When he’s bottomed out, he lets his form fold over yours, letting him get as close to your ear as possible. “I bet it looks even prettier leaking my cum.”

Your jaw drops. The whispered words do laps around your mind as Jake reintroduces a proper speed. You find yourself on your tiptoes, adjusting the angle, winning yourself a treasured groan from the pilot behind you. He can’t seem to get any appreciative words out, so instead, he lets his hand slip between your legs. The minute his touch is on you again, your core feels like it’s working overtime.

The calculated strokes, the fullness of him inside you along with diligent fingers is a fatal combination. There was no fucking way you’re lasting much longer. There isn’t.

Adding insult to injury, Jake’s free hand leaves your hip, coming up to the base of your hair and grabs a fistful, helping you to arch yourself off the counter, and bear witness to a rather insightful view of the two of you. His face is focused, hair absolutely wild and intense, his skin flushed.

“You want to come baby?” The words are panted, mixing with still steady strokes - somehow. It’s impossible to properly nod your head against his grip, which forces a whine out of you.

“Yes. Jake- please- I’m not-“ The fucker moves deeper in time with the pressure on your clit. A groan skips across your breath with the quickened thrusts.

“If you come, I’m coming in you, baby girl. That what you want? You want me to come in you?” His breath paints gaps between his words, his grip still training your eyes on is in the mirror. “You wanna walk out of here with me leaking outta you?” The gruff tone of his voice has a husk to it that you’ve never heard. Not in base camp, not at Penny’s - never.

And holy fuck. You’ve never needed something so damn badly.

“Come in me. Come in me, fuck, Jake- please-please-please-“ The pressure of your chest against the counter makes breathing tough as it is, but mixed with the tightness of your core and the short intakes your lungs are pulling, the euphoria is somehow heightened ten-fold.

The full sensation is accompanied by warmth and electricity. Your peak aligns with his, a rare occurrence for the both of you. His hold on your head eases, letting you rest fully on the bathroom counter to catch your breath. His hand, still lost in your hair, mindlessly starts massaging your scalp. Fuck, if it weren’t for the smell of bathroom cleaner you would’ve believed you were up in the damn clouds right now.

He’s careful when he pulls out, and tugs your shorts back up around your waist first. Large hands grab your hips and help you stand up properly, spinning you back to face him. He buttons you back up, chuckling under his breath.

“Oh, good thing we’re in a bar cause you look absolutely tanked, right now.” Jake’s hand pushes a rogue lock of hair out of the way before tugging his own pants back up.

You feel like you’re on a funhouse floor right now. The kind where the floor wobbles up and down and makes it hard to walk straight.

Despite that, you make a weak effort to reach up and help him sort the wild mess that is his hair. You’d been leaning back on the counter for support and are surprised when you step forward that your knee buckles. Jake’s arms both to grab you, a devious chuckle leaving him. “Easy does it, let yourself get your legs under you.”

Your mouth is dry when you go to speak. “You think you’re funny?” The tilt of your head accompanies the question, before the pilot looks at the counter behind you.

“I’m known to be a comedian from time to time.” He hums, picking up the dispenser and evaluating whether or not it was possible to fix this without tipping off Penny.

“You might want to go back to clown school. Your jokes are landing about as strong as you did today.” Green eyes cut to, growing sharp as they do so. They don’t deter the smirk on your lips. If everyone else got to roast him, you felt it only fitting to tag along.

With stronger legs, you turn to the sink to wipe some water over your body. The reflection of yourself in the mirror is downright horrific. Makeup has smudged and your hair is a rat’s nest. It was going to take a second to clean up.

“I got a draft coming in and you know it.” The defense comes, dropping the soap dispenser back to the counter. “I’m not telling her this happened.” He points to the soap.

You look over your shoulder at him as you use a paper towel to wipe mascara from under your eyes. “And how exactly would I get away with telling her that the men’s soap dispenser is broken?”

The question makes Jake buffer. He attempts to provide a retort before resigning himself to his fate. “Damn it.”

“Think about this the next time you decide to get possessive in a public place.” You charm, finally feeling like you were somewhat acceptable to the public.

Jake was right, you did look drunk. But at least you didn’t look freshly fucked on top of it. Drunk accusations were one thing, sneaking off to get laid was another.

The two of you stick your head out to the hallway, gladly finding Rooster still crooning at the piano, the whole of the bar in his hands. It seemed like Hangman knew his teammates well enough if he was using them for his ulterior motives.

Each of you manages to merge your way back into the crowd without tipping anyone off.

Your drink is gone from the table Jake put it, and the rest of the team has gathered around the piano. Sneaking around bodies, you manage to come to the center of the crowd, where familiar faces have huddled up. Phoenix is sat on the piano bench next to a vibrant and loud Bradshaw, your drink in her hand.

Gratefully, you approach and she smiles at you. “Hey! I was wondering where you ran off to!” She greets, before handing you the glass. Half the liquid is gone by the time it gets to your lips. Damn Hangman.

“I had to help Penny with something in the bathroom!” You fabricate the lie as quickly as you can. The dark haired woman seems to believe you, and resumes her singing to the song you don’t seem to recognize.

A quick glance to the bar shows Jake tagging down Ryan and pointing toward the bathroom.

That fucker. You knew that the bathroom wouldn’t exactly have time to air out before the employee would go check it out. He would walk in and know exactly what had happened there. And exactly who was responsible for it.

It takes you a few more drinks before you finally end up calling it a night. Afterall, you have to work tomorrow, and if you didn’t stop now, you’d be miserable come morning. Hell, you were going to be sore one way or another, Hangman had made sure of that. Your back had been giving off a dull ache since you left the bathroom, and it would be even worse under G Force in the cockpit tomorrow.

Despite it all, you get a ride home. The house is quiet, with Amelia likely feigning sleep in favor of playing some game on her phone under the covers. You knew you could check on her and catch her in the act but… you remember sneaking your game boy under your pillow when you were supposed to be sleeping. It was a core memory for you. So who are you to break that cycle?

Once you’ve changed, and more importantly showered, you make your way to the garage. It was somewhat organized, albeit under-stocked. Granted, Penny was rarely in here. It mainly served as storage and held the important tools and things. So, there had to be some sort of super glue.

With four options at your disposal, you quickly gather your supplies and make a beeline for your bedroom. Once the door is shut, you set up a makeshift tool bench using an overturned storage bin, then carefully dump the glass pieces of the lamp on top of it.

Jigsaw puzzles were never your strong suit. You weren’t horrible at them, you always succeeded in getting the outline of the puzzle together, but filling in the middle part was easier said than done.

So it’s no surprise that you’re able to sort each panel of the lamp shade into respective piles. You’re about halfway through one panel when a tap comes from the window.

Your head is on a swivel, looking back at the pane. One Jake Seresin is on the other side.

Reluctantly, you stand up and open the window.

“What are you doing here?” You quiz him as he climbs through, the reverse of what he’d done last weekend. He straightens himself out and spots the lamp pieces on your bedroom floor.

“I know what it’s like to lose a beloved piece of furniture. I’m here for the wake.” He laments, a hand over his heart in a show of fake empathy.

With the window shut, you grunt when you get back to the floor. “I don’t remember posting an obituary anywhere.” You offer, looking back down at the progress you’ve made. It really isn’t much, but it’s better than not trying at all.

“Not to criminalize myself here, but no need for one when you witness the murder.” He hums, coming to the other side of your workbench, joining you. You scoff and look up at him.

“Witnessed? You’re the prime suspect, Seresin.” The stupid giggles that accompany the words feel somewhat like betrayal of the message.

He puts his hands up in a show of surrender. “I am innocent, your honor.” Your giggles coerce his own chuckles to join in on the fun. Careful fingers pick up a piece of the remains on the slab in your pseudo-mortuary. “This is hopeless, y’know. Cremation might be a better option.”

You look up at him from your work. “Is that your professional opinion or are you just trying to get rid of the body?”

“Strictly professional. I would never tamper with an investigation.” Jake hums and puts the piece back down, before inspecting another one.

You had to give him credit, this felt impossible. What progress you had made, was shoddily mangled back into some motif of what the pattern had been before. And your hands certainly are way more stable when you aren’t five drinks in.

Jake’s returned to watch you. Granted, this was much different than the bar, but still, he’s got careful eyes on you.

“Are you gonna tell me why you’re actually here?” You question again, sitting up to give your back a break from being hunched over.

“You didn’t answer my text. I wanted to make sure you made it back safe.” His gaze has moved to other pieces, attempting to find the next piece you need to glue down.

It’s uncharacteristic of him. He would’ve found out if you made it home tomorrow morning at work. Instead, he’s sitting in your bedroom at eleven thirty at night, playing Operation with your aunt’s heirloom lamp. Or what’s left of it.

“Got it.” You keep the reply succinct and quick. No need to elaborate on it. Instead, you find the next piece - or what you assume is the next piece - and resume your work.

A few minutes pass before you’re dropping the piece to the plastic and hissing. A jagged edge caught the side of your finger unexpectedly.

“Ow, fuck.” You shake your hand, pulling it close to try to see how bad the cut is.

Jake’s attention is caught by the sound. He extends his hand toward you. “Hey, hey, careful there might still be glass- let me see.”

Reluctantly, you let him take your hand, leaning across the storage bin, careful not to let any drying pieces catch on your shirt.

His examination doesn’t last very long. But his hands are gentle as they move. A careful finger prods gently to ensure that it wasn’t contaminated with any shards from the project below you. He seems much softer. It doesn’t last very long. His brash and relaxed demeanor returns when he lets go.

“You’re fine. Just need a bandage.” He shrugs, leaning back on his hands. You look at him and then the door.

“And risk Penny finding this?” You gesture to your glasswork. “No thanks, rather not.” Looking around the room, you’re trying to spot the box of tissues you could’ve sworn was in here earlier.

After a few seconds of thought, Jake reaches out and grabs your wrist. He pulls your hand back toward him, before ensuring your injured finger is extended, then tugging it to his mouth. His lips carefully wrap around the injured digit, cleaning the wound site. You sit in surprise, the warm sensation disappearing as quick as it appeared. He lets go, and smirks at you.

“All better, princess.”

Jake sticks around for about an hour more before you decide to give him a more dignified exit this time. It’s late after all, and you had checked Penny’s location about thirty minutes ago and knew she was home. Which meant she was upstairs and tuckered out for the night. After a night of Rooster’s entertainment, the bar had been unusually busy. It’s understandable that she’s wiped.

Despite that, your lingering conversation with Jake remains hushed as you make your way to the door. You spot his truck parked down the street, inconspicuously placed. Smart move on his part. You lean on the door frame as he exits onto the porch.

“I expect you to be on time tomorrow.” You remark, looking at him with a knowing smirk.

“Defy my commanding officer? I wouldn’t dream of it.” Jake retorts, an easy grin on his features.

Maybe something could come out of this. If he’s showing up unannounced like he did, maybe it could get there. He seemed to care. After all, the soap dispenser at the Hard Deck would still be on the wall if he didn’t. So he did. At least enough to do something about it.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Hangman.” You offer, grabbing onto the door next to you, anticipating shutting it.

“Yes ma’am. G’night, Knockout.” He gives a mock salute before starting down the steps.

The door is about halfway shut when you hear his voice. It’s muffled so you can’t make it out without opening the door further.

When you do, Jake is standing adjacent to your captain and instructor, Maverick.

#top gun maverick #top gun #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #hangman fanfiction #hangman fanfic #hangman smut

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one-sunny · 18 days ago

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Cabin by the Lake | Just You

10- When Luffy’s birthday turns into a group get away to a small cabin by a lake, you cannot deny his own brothers an invitation. Surely the week long get away would leave a lasting impression with his eldest sibling.

The final chapter everyone 😭 i think it took so long to write bc my brain didn’t want it to be over. but here we are now

Sunday: Just You

Ace could feel his heart hammering in his chest, aware of his pulse thrumming. He was nervous. So very nervous to face you. Scared that you would slam the door in his face.

In spite of his nerves, he presses on. He needs to see you again. Hear your voice. You were so mad at him yesterday and it was driving him absolutely insane. Ace missed you, something that was terrifying in part, it seemed you had some kind of a hold over him. And worst of all? He didn’t mind it one bit.

His feet are heavy against the stairs, echoing through the stairwell, and only working to increase the rapid beat of his heart. Once he reaches your floor, by Luffy’s direction, he walks up to the door. Your apartment.

A shaky breath, hesitation, and Ace surges forwards to knock on the door before he can chicken out. Time seems to slow down as he waits. Then, the door suddenly cracks open.

“What?” The voice that barks is rough with age and entirely masculine. Ace’s eyes snap up to see an elderly man peering at him through a crack in the door. “I don’t want what you’re selling, boy.”

“I’m not-“

“What are you bothering me for?”

Ace swallows hard. You never mentioned living with your grandparents. “I’m looking for someone, she-“

“She? What business do you have with my wife? We have been married for over thirty years boy, you ain’t sleeping with her are you?” The door opens a little bit wider and the man’s frail frame comes into view. He had to be pushing his eighties.

“N-no sir.” Ace stutters out. He had been plagued by nerves until this very moment where confusion pushes through everything else.

“Then what is it?”

“I’m looking for a, uh, friend of mine.”

“If she’s your friend you should know that this ain’t her house. Now leave us alone!” The door is slammed in Ace’s face. Part of him wants to laugh- having a door slammed in his face was certainly not how he wanted the day to go, but he couldn’t be mad that it was by some angry geezer. Another part of him flares up in anger. Did Luffy even know what he was talking about?

Ace checks over the message, sighing loudly to see that he had knocked on the door Luffy told him to. Shaking his head, Ace hits call and waits rather impatiently for the line to connect. Moments later, Luffy answers and he can hear the beginnings of a greeting.

“Luffy!” Ace barks down the line, not giving his brother the chance for the words in his annoyance. “You gave me the wrong apartment.”

Luffy hums in thought, “No, i’m pretty sure that’s it.”

“Unless she turned into an eighty year old man over night, that was the wrong apartment.” He huffs out in frustration.

“Well maybe she did.” Luffy’s voice takes on a defensive tone and Ace doesn’t even need to see his face to know that he’s making that stupid pout. “It’s the one with the colorful doormat. Has like a lake and trees, it’s all orange. Some famous artist or something.”

Ace’s eyes scan his surroundings to find the thing three doors down from where he stood. “Found it.” With the muttered words, Ace hangs up the phone. He takes a moment to collect himself in the very short walk to your front door. Nervous energy consumes him as he moves to stand on that very same doormat that his brother described.

He hesitates for a moment, before lifting his hand and rapping his knuckles against the wood. Then he waits. And waits. And his frustration builds as he stands dumbly in the hallway.

Doubts and anxious thoughts fire off in his mind in the silence.

He knocks again and listens quietly. Nothing.

Then, he is calling his brother back again and speaking as soon as the line connects. “She didn’t answer.”

“She didn’t?” There is a surprised tone to his voice, but that gave Ace a little bit of relief. As air headed as his brother was, he was emotionally intelligent, especially when it came to his friends. Luffy must have been picking up on something with you to make him think you would answer the door. “Oh!” He finally pipes up, making Ace jump as if he forgot Luffy was on the phone. “She might still be at Nami’s, her and Robin stayed there last night.”

Ace pauses for a moment in disbelief, “And you didn’t think to tell me something like that?”

“My bad.” He can imagine the shrug that bounces Luffy’s shoulders.

“Great, thanks anyways.” Ace’s voice is snippy as he hangs up the phone. He wasn’t mad at Luffy- he could never be truly mad at his youngest brother- but Ace hated the situation he found himself in. If only he had just kissed you…

Ace sighs loudly and leans his back against your front door. He makes an attempt to craft a plan in his mind but everything is a muddied mess with the way his emotions run high. With a huff, he drops his head back against the door, eyes squeezed shut.

“Ace?”

His head snaps to attention and his eyes fall on you. Standing before him in an outfit that seemed to be quickly thrown together in a haste to leave Nami’s, and yet, he thought you never looked better. Then, he watches as your arms cross over your chest and a look of irritation flash over your face.

“Why are you here?”

Ace steps forwards, “I wanted a chance to explain.”

“To explain what.” You’re rolling your pretty eyes at him and his heart flutter in spite of himself.

“That,” He pauses, feeling breathless at your presence standing before him. “That I’m an idiot.”

A smile cracks on your face, but you quickly stamp it down. “Yeah, what about it?” Despite the irritated front you were attempting to uphold, your words were still teasing.

He takes another step closer, gauging your reaction. “And I got scared, ya know, of ruining the relationship you have with Luffy.” Your eyes flicker to the floor. “Until he told me I was being an idiot.”

You meet his eye once again, “Really?”

“Really.” He confirms. “I wanted to kiss you that night,” Ace is moving even closer now, heat buzzing over his skin at the proximity. At the comfort and familiarity of it. “That’s all i’ve been able to think about since then.”

A low sigh leaves you and you step around Ace, fiddling with your keys. But you don’t make the move to open the door and shut him out. “It really hurt.” You declare, back turned to him. “I thought that-“ As you turn around, your brow is pinched and a deep frown is on your face. “I tried to push you away and you wouldn’t let me. So I took that as a sign that,” You trail off, shaking your head. “And then i felt so stupid.”

“And I’m so sorry for making you feel like that.” Ace very hesitantly reaches out a hand towards you, gauging your reaction, before gently taking one of your hands. He feels your muscles tense for only a moment, soothing his thumb over your knuckles. “It was driving me crazy when you were trying to push me away-“

“I hadn’t noticed.” You scoff, a bashful smile falling on his lips.

“Yeah, well.” He mutters, squeezing your fingers. “I haven’t stopped regretting it since the moment I looked away. Haven’t stopped thinking about you. ‘Bout how pretty you looked. How bad I wanted to kiss you.” Fingers tip up your chin and Ace is looking back at you with a half-lidded expression. “I’m sorry for being so stupid, doll.”

You hum in thought, “I’m sure it will happen again.” There’s a teasing edge to your voice that pulls a smile to his face.

“Maybe,” Ace rolls his eyes. “But not like this. I never want to hurt you like that again.” Both hands now cup your face, cradling you like you are the most precious thing in the world. It pulls you in closer to him and you cant stop from reaching up to grab the opening of his flannel, squeezing the fabric in your hands.

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Ace breathes, eyes flickering down to your lips. They part in anticipation. “Can we try this thing again?”

A grin pulls to your lips, “You gonna be mad if i turn my head?” But you’re pulling him closer by your grip on his shirt anyways.

“I’d be devastated.” Ace confesses.

Then, you’re meeting each other in the embrace that you had both been so desperately craving. Lips locking together, pulled to each other closer and closer. His hands leave your face in favor of grabbing your hips to pull flush against him.

Movements are slow as you pull in closer to each other. A certain level of desperation sparks in the air as all focus was thrust into the feeling of your lips on his. Of short, panted breaths as you remain entangled in the hall.

Neither of you can be sure how it happened, but your back leans against the apartment door as Ace cages you between himself and the cracked paint. The kiss is deep and a groan vibrates through Ace’s chest as your fingers card through his hair.

“Missed you.” Ace groans against your lips.

Your laugh is clipped and cut off by another kiss. “You just saw me.”

“Don’t care.” He kisses you again. “You were mad at me,” Another kiss that has your tongues meeting for only a brief moment. “So it felt like years.” Your laugh is once again cut off in a desperate attempt to feel your lips against his. There is no further attempt at conversation and you can’t be sure how long you stay there, right in the hallway of your apartment.

A fact that neither of you seem to realize, until a loud scoff fills the relative silence. You both pull back, still in a daze, to lock eyes with the elderly man down the hall. He levels his scowl on Ace and he has to turn his head to hold back his laughter. Then his wife steps out and her eyes fall on you. The pair wear matching masks of disgust and you have to hold back a laugh as they mutter about “kids these days”.

Silence lingers all the way until the elevator doors close the couple away from you. Then, Ace’s laugh echoes through the hall as his forehead drops against your chest. Your laugh vibrates through you as well, but it’s a mix of laughter from the looks thrown your way and utter joy of having Ace in your arms.

Finally, your eyes meet Ace’s, shining with adoration. “Do you wanna come in? Before any of my other neighbors catch us?”

“Yeah, but,” His head tips to the side in thought, squeezing you a little bit closer to him. “Then I want you to get ready, so I can take you out.”

“Oh? You asking me on a date, Portgas?”

He adopts a bashful smile, suddenly nervous, and offering you a nod.

“Then ask.” You grin at him.

A laugh breaks through his nerves, shaking his head at you. You were just so cute. “Okay, okay, fine.” Ace straightens to his full height, taking half a step back so that he can look you in the eyes, but with hands that hover over your hips. “Will you go on a date with me?”

Your lips purse, finger tapping your chin as you mockingly hum in thought, as if the answer wasn’t already obvious. Ace rolls his eyes at your little act. “Man, what did I get myself into.” He mutters dramatically, making you gasp and lightly slap his shoulder. “I’m kidding, i’m kidding.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes at him. “I would love to go on a date with you, Ace.” He grins at your words, pulling you into his arms and gently squeezing you against his chest. “Okay, okay. Let’s go inside before my neighbors file a complaint about PDA and kids these days.”

You step away from him and Ace wants to kick himself for how strongly he misses your touch as you fiddle with your keys. Once the door is open, Ace collects your bags and ignores any of your protests, gesturing you ahead of him. With a playful eye roll, you step ahead into your apartment with Ace following close behind.

He quickly drops your bag by the door, kicking it closed behind him, and moving to catch up to you. Ace catches your hand to twirl you around and pulls you close to him, “Sorry, just can’t help myself.” Then he is leaning in to place a gentle kiss to your lips and effectively melt you into a little puddle at his feet. His smile shines bright as he pulls back to look at you, “Okay.” Another kiss pecked on your lips. “Go get ready.”

But the order falls on deaf ears at the daze his lips have left you in. “I, uh,” You mutter in attempt to piece together a thought that wasn’t riddled with Ace. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” Ace steps back with a mischievous grin. “Dress casual and, uh, take your time getting ready. ‘Kay?”

“Take my time?”

“Yeah, i’m serious.” He confirms, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “I half expected you to slam the door in my face so, uh, just go real slow.”

“Yeah, okay.” You laugh as you trail off towards your bedroom, leaving Ace alone in your living room.

Nerves bubble up in your stomach as you begin getting ready for your date. Your date. With Ace. You have to remind yourself to slow down in your excitement to get ready.

When you are finished, you walk out of your room to see Ace leaning against your kitchen island, phone pressed to his ear. He seems to be rambling on about something, a worry line in his brow, until his eyes land on you. His words trail off after this and he mutters something down the line before hanging up. Ace straightens and a flush rises to his cheeks, “Hi.”

“Hi.” You can’t hold back the nervous laugh.

“You look really pretty.”

Heat fills your face, “It’s no different from the stuff you’ve already seen me in.” Your hands brush over your clothing that you are annoyingly aware of all of the sudden.

“I know, but,” His eyes flicker away. “I was too nervous to tell you how pretty you looked before.”

You clear your throat and walk a few steps closer. “So, uh, where are you taking me?” The change in topic seemed to be much needed for the both of you in your newly found nerves.

“Already told you, it’s a surprise.” Ace knocks his knuckles against the countertop. “Let’s head out, doll.” He offers a rather charming smile before gesturing you towards your own front door.

The ride to your mystery destination starts off with the quiet lull of music and light conversation as Ace practically vibrates with his mix of emotions. Though, at one point, he took your hand and some of those nerves seemed to dissipate. After that, it turned to something reminiscent of your drives out in the middle of nowhere, and calm seemed to settle about his car.

Soon, trees fill the sight of the window, perfectly green and picturesque. The local park was abuzz with families and couples milling about, but Ace drives even further in. Well past anything you have seen before.

He makes a turn into an area where the trees grow thicker and begins to slow down. Eventually, the tires roll to a stop and Ace throws you a nervous look. “We’re here.” His voice is breathy as if he had run all this way.

Unable to stop yourself, you lift a hand to his face and gently cup his cheek. “Let’s go.” Your thumb brushes over his cheek bone and his whole body seems to melt into your touch, a pink heat spreading over his face.

“Let’s go.” He echoes.

The two of you hop out of Ace’s car, the man stopping at the front to offer out his hand. You take it with a bright smile and Ace turns to lead you towards the clearing ahead of you. The greenery is near perfect, opening up for a space fit for two and a large picnic blanket nestled in there. With three men crowding the area and chattering rather loudly.

“Oh no.” Ace mutters, when there is suddenly a loud gasp.

“They’re here!” The voice is very distinctly Luffy’s attempt to whisper. Unfortunately, quiet is a foreign concept to Luffy, even as he attempts to shove his two blonde companions away from the picnic blanket.

“Gah, Luffy!” Sanji barks, scrambling to collect a plastic bag before he was tugged out of reach.

“They already see us, idiot!” Sabo attempts to argue to no avail. The three disappear from sight in a loud boom of conversation that completely contrasts any attempts of being subtle. That was your friends for you.

“Ah, sorry about that.” Ace pinches the bridge of his nose, gently squeezing your hand. “I thought they would be gone by now.”

A smile pulls to your lips, soft and full of affection. The effort he went through in recruiting the three to set up cute picnic for you sends butterflies erupting in your stomach. “It’s okay, Ace.”

His head snaps up at the gentle tone in your voice before he breaks out in a smile. “Let’s sit.” He guides you forwards to the picnic blanket to see the many items that were set up- an arrangement of plates, cups, blankets, and a wicker picnic basket.

Ace takes it upon himself to set out the spread, rambling on about whatever Sanji was able to whip up within the very limited time frame. And how Sabo had to track down one of Dadan’s old picnic blanket. And how Luffy managed to find the old basket Garp had from when they were kids. And above all, how nervous he was about the entire situation potentially not playing out how he wanted.

Settled in at his side, you gently take his chin and force his eyes to face you opposed to the plates he was setting out. “It’s all perfect, Ace.” You offer him a sweet smile, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Thank you for setting this up, really. I would have appreciated anything, but this is all perfect. You’re perfect.”

Ace makes a sound in the back of his throat before heat floods up his neck and burns the tips of his ears. “You have a way of makin’ a guy blush, huh doll?”

“Just you.” You grin, making Ace roll his eyes at you.

The nerves seem to disappear and conversation begins to flow easily. Everything seemed to be so easy with Ace. Gentle touches, the sharing of food, and bright smiles that carry through to the meals end.

After packing away plates and empty containers, Ace calls you to his side. The two of you fall easily into each other, as if it was the most natural thing, with your back to his chest and his arms wrapped around you. Ace presses a kiss to the side of your head and the two of you share giddy laughter until you’re eventually able to settle down in each others embrace.

“Ace?” You prompt, nails trailing up and down his arm.

He hums in response.

“Thanks for all of this.”

Ace’s chest vibrates in his laughter, surprised that you thanked him for something like this. For the absolute pleasure of taking you out on a date. “Of course, doll.”

“I was right, you know.”

“About what?” He shakes his head, chin ruffling against your hair with the movement.

“That day in the kitchen, you might not even remember.” You poke at his forearm. “But you’re a really great guy.”

“Wait, you remember that?”

“Of course I do!” You scoff in offense. “I know we had just met and all, but it was the first time that day that I really saw you.”

Ace is silent for a long moment, before he is pulling you in even closer. “Well, i’m glad you forgave me, so that I can be a good guy for you.”

“Just for me?” You laugh.

“Just you.” Ace brushes his fingertips up and down your arm, humming in contentment. His nose nuzzles into your hair and your eyes flutter shut as you relax back into his embrace.

Through all its faults, you were more than grateful for that cabin vacation.

Series Masterlist

tag list: @flooofity @certain-tragedies @zzzzzoey @stuckinmymind22 @kanekisheart @lxpofthegods @weirdothatreads @dailybrekker @spyderst4r @nejilost @thekatisspooky @narnian-neverlander

#bro it’s the end 😭😭😭#i’m gonna miss cabin ace guys #portgas d ace #one-fics #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace x you #portgas d ace x reader

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