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#at the end of the day i made a handful of people really happy and thats all that matters to me
lovifie · 3 days
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Simon “I Will Never Be A Father” Riley, and how he ended up with a football team worth of kids.
CW: Like 2k words of fluffy Simon, and then 1k words of filth, massive breeding kink, creampie, disgusting sext talk mess. Enjoy! 🩷
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It's not his fault, it's yours. 
He met you really early in both of your careers, before either of you had really any important ranks, nor years of experience. 
But a mission together to recollect some intel was enough for the two of you to learn each other's names. 
It was back when rage still blinded more of Simon's senses, the loss of her family still recent. But you didn't know, obviously, and he wouldn't tell you. 
During that mission, he would constantly snap at you, unnecessary remarks and barks at you whenever you would ask something. 
Not that you would back down because of the overgrown chihuahua, usually just shouting back and ignoring him. Letting him to simmer in his guilty feelings.
But the time together helped to learn what buttons to press and when to act as if you hadn’t seen something, and by the time you made it back to base, to your different units; you said goodbye shaking hands and saying: “Nice to meet you, Riley. Don't die.”
He didn't say it back, but he felt it more. 
Years went by before he saw you again, and after a while, he simply assumed you did in fact, die. 
He was higher in his career, already being respected by most and always addressed as Ghost. The rage of his past was already on a secondary level. 
More mature, more knowledgeable, more experienced. 
But for some reason, he couldn't forget you. He had come across so many different people who would back down just for him looking at them, yet when he screamed at you, you didn't let him win. 
He missed you. 
He would never admit it, but he missed the girl he met on that mission those years back. Maybe if he had said it back you would be alive. 
Maybe.
“Riley?!” An unmistakable voice asks, radiant with happiness from his back. 
He turns around, eyes wide open looking for the source, for the girl he met so long ago, for the girl he thought had died. 
But he sees you.
The woman, on the same rank as his, grown, more mature, more knowledgeable and more experienced. 
Scars and wounds adorning your body just like his. 
“What is that mask, Riley?” You ask, smiling widely. “You turned emo?!”
You laugh loudly as you finally walk up to him, an awkward position of not knowing how to say hi after so long apart. 
“Aye, didn't want people falling in love with me like you did.” He says, completely baffling but still hoping it was true. 
“Argh.” You say, rolling your eyes as you slap his arm. “Well, excuse me, lover boy. Didn't know you have spent all this time fighting the ladies.”
There hasn't been any ladies. Not after you. He realises it in that moment.
“It's the uniform.” He explains, a stupid smug smirk under the mask. “And you? What have you been up to?”
“The usual, learned German, I knit now, killed a couple of hundred terrorists, and got my flying licence!” You enunciate, slightly jumping with the last. 
He doesnt realizes that the mask is not covering his eyes, and that no matter how cold and stoic he tries to act; you can see clearly as day the affection and happiness from seeing you again. 
This time, when you say goodbye, you keep each other numbers. A way to stay in contact, to check once a month if you are still alive. 
But again, time goes by before meeting in person again. 
And when it happens, Ghost is already on the 141; and it's not him the one that sees you first. 
“We are having a surprise guest on the next operation.” Price says one morning while they are having breakfast. “She’s from another base, but has an amazing resume. She's a lieutenant too. And with an ugly character, like you” He says, pointing at Ghost.
And he knows it's you. 
It gotta be. 
And a couple of days later, when you enter the mess hall; walking behind him and slapping the back of his head, he is elated.
“I knew I was smelling trash.” You say, looking down on him. Barely a bit taller than him when he is seated. 
He turns his body, resting his arm around your hips. “How long are going to be following me for, ya rat?”
“Hmm, not my fault you can't do your fucking job, useless bitch.” You say with a smile on your face as you rest your arm over his shoulders. 
“Well, somebody gotta take out the trash, you cunt.” He says, a smug smile on his face. 
“Aww, are you telling me to take you out, lover boy?” You say, resting your hand on your chest. That makes him bark a laugh, patting your side after, before saying. “I'm glad to see you are still in one piece, idiot.”
“The feeling is mutual, dickhead.” 
And that was the first time that Simon’s hand was resting on your hips, but definitely not the last. 
The first mission together with the 141 was an absolute shit show, everything that could have gone wrong… went wrong. And if it wasn't because of your stubbornness, it would have been Simon’s last mission.
Being trapped under debris, unable to get out of the burning building. Everyone was already out, only him inside, talking on the radio to tell the team to leave him behind. 
Except you, who managed to slip through Price's orders and run into the obvious death trap. Able to take the debris keeping Simon trapped with his help, both of you using the extra strength that only comes out in emergencies. Unknowingly, both of you going to the extreme of your resistance to make sure the other didn't die inside the building. 
And when he was in the hospital bed, days later, and you came to visit him, and you leaned forward and kissed him. It was the first kiss, but not the last one. 
The two of you, already adults perfectly functional, able to instruct armies, take down terrorist organisations, and yet… it was not until 8 months after the first kiss that one of you managed to ask the other out.
“The team were going out for drinks tonight, but they bailed… do you want to go still? The two of us?”
To this day, Simon still believes it was his doing that the two of you went alone to the pub, and you still have not had the heart to tell him it was you the one who asked Price, Soap and Gaz to tell him they couldn't go.
And once the door was opened, everything went smoothly and easily. Not bothering to call the relationship in any way, as if the two of you haven't been exclusive to the other from the first moment you met. 
Still, even more time went on before something more than kisses went down. Until the two of you went on separate missions, months spent apart from each other, only to reach base again at the same time. 
And as if you had planned, you walked to each other room. Meeting exactly in the middle and jumping into each other arms. 
Not that anyone else on the team had doubts about what went on between the two of you, but still was a surprising view. And you pulled Simon by his hand inside of his room, every doubt crumb was erased. 
And once it started, everything else went in a blur. By the time you took notice, the two of you were already married for a couple of years, the honeymoon phase was still strong, and expecting your first child. 
And Simon, who had always promised he would never have kids, now was obsessed with your pregnant self. During the pregnancy, he couldn't keep his hands away from your body.
Constantly feeling you up, every inch of skin, from your hips, to your breast, to your tummy. Completely obsessed and enamoured with your body, changing and adjusting to bear his child. His big-ass child. That had you wabling from the second trimester. 
He missed the birth, away on a mission when you were in your seventh month. Promising the mission would last a week, but he didn't take a step into your house until three months later. He didn't look Price at his face for weeks after the due date passed. 
The worst part was that there was no communication with you, complete radio silence. Again, like so many years ago; you could be dead and he wouldn't know. 
And when the plane landed, he took the quickest shower of his life. Because the worst case scenario was coming home to an empty house, but the worst second was holding his child for the first time with the blood of his enemies still on his hands. He wouldn't taint such an innocent thing. 
The door almost fell from the hinges when he entered, eyes looking through the house. Breathing only because he could see light from the bedroom, and then you walked out of the room. 
Looking at him with tears on your eyes as you run to him, jumping on his arms and getting crushed by his hug. Muttering apologies as he kissed your head, he still has not forgiven himself for failing you that day. 
You shake your head, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the bedroom. He freezes on his spot, as if he just remembered that he had a child; your abdomen way flatter than when he left. 
“C’mon, Si… Do you not want to meet your son?” 
A son.
He had a son. 
He followed you into the room, unable to say a word as he saw the tiny human sleeping in the middle of the bed. 
He walked behind you, waiting for instructions, his brain struggling to work normally. You tell him to sit down, picking the baby to lay him on his arms. The father finally holding his son for the first time.
And when the baby exhaled a satisfied sigh at the warmth pooling from Simon’s body, the first tear rolled down his cheek.
He didn't sleep that night, it didn't matter that he had barely been able to sleep the weeks before, he couldn't pull his eyes away from the baby. So that night, he stayed seated, with the baby on his arms and with you sleeping by his side.
The happiest night of his life. 
He finally took his parental leave, almost smashing the phone against the wall when Price called him; even though it was to congratulate him. 
And Simon, who always had believed he would never have kids, now had one. And that might have been the first child he had, but it was definitely not the last one. 
Because a couple of weeks later, when the two of you went to base; to introduce the baby to his teammates, Simon couldn't stop thinking about how good you looked with his child strapped to your body. 
His little head resting over your full breasts, sleeping and perfectly unaware of every problem in the world. But Simon couldn't stop looking at your chest, body changed to bear and care for his child; it was only fair he paid back. 
So when Gaz asked if he could hold the baby, it was Simon who helped you take the baby out of the little koala backpack; letting him hold it.��
And with a weak excuse, took you to his bedroom. Barely managing to close the door before bending you over his desk, pulling your pants down and stuffing your cunt with his thick fingers. Giving you barely any prep before the strain on his hardening shaft was too much for him to keep it away from your soaked cunt. Groaning in your ear as he thrusts fast and hard into your sweet pussy, rubbing your clit with his fingertip making you cling into the desk. 
“Such a good fucking mama you are.” He moans into your ear. “Driving me fucking crazy every time I look at you, so fucking beautiful, so fucking breathtaking, darling.”
Half of what he says doesn't make sense and the other half you can't even hear from over the sounds of the moans. 
“Gonna fuck you full of my child again, gonna keep you barefoot and pregnant, mama.” He moans again, kissing your neck from behind as his free hand keeps roaming your body, needing to feel more and more of you. “Looking like a bloody goddess with my child, gonna keep fucking you until it fucking catches, and then again, and again, and again… Do you want that, mama? Do you want it as much as me?”
“Fuck, yes!” You moan back, just as fuck out as him. The unforgiving pace pushing the breath out of your lungs, your legs barely able to hold your weight but it's not like Simon would let you fall. 
More and more words and promises keep falling from Simon's mouth, making it hard for your orgasm to take any longer to wash over you. 
But then Simon turns you around, laying you on your back and pulling your legs up, your knees beside your head; before he starts to thrust into you again, his happy trail rubbing against your clit. 
“Gonna make it catch, gonna fuck you so deep it is not even going to spill. Gonna get you fucking pregnant again, and this time I'm not gonna go away for a fucking second. Gotta give the little shit a sibling, ah?”
The stretch of your legs being pulled so back into your head making it almost uncomfortable if you were able to think at the moment. Your hands grabbing into his forearms to steady yourself. 
“The best fucking mama in the world you are, ah? Taking such good care of him.” He groans, engulfing your boob with his enormous hand. “Getting these tits fucking massive just for him, fucking little shit don't know how lucky he is to get such a good fucking moma.”
And you are ashamed to admit it, but the disgusting praises are enough to throw you over the edge; your head falling back against the desk with a loud cry of his name. 
“Fucking hell, darling.” He groans just like you. “That's it, choke my fucking cock, love. Milk it dry, suck it in. Fuck! Such a fucking perfect cunt, I would fucking live here. Sucking me in so good, such a greedy fucking cunt. I'm gonna fuck you so deep, I'm gonna give you twins, darling.”
And he doesn't give you time to breathe, his hips slapping hard against yours making you mewl at the overstimulation. Clenching down at the prolonged orgasm. 
You hear him groan over your exhausted body. “Fuuuck… Shit, love. Yeah… just like that, take it in, love, take it in. Hold it in, don't let it go to waste love.”
You fill him spill deep inside of you, pulling your legs impossibly higher lifting your butt off the desk, bending you in half with your cunt completely exposed. 
“Such a beautiful fucking cunt.” He says before leaning down, kissing your clit as if he was pecking your lips, only for him to literally make out with your cunt. Making you hiss and pull his hair back to make him stop and be able to breathe for a second. 
He pulls his head back, only to accumulate the saliva and arousal on his mouth and spit it back over your cunt making you shudder. He lowers your legs, impaling you back on his still hard shaft, pulling the breath from your lungs once more. 
“There you go, mama. Stuffed and plugged, so there is no risk.” He says, letting your legs rest down as he moves his hands to each side of your hips, pushing you impossibly closer to him, hitting as deep as he has ever reached. Slightly moving you up and down so your clit rubs against his pelvic bone, making you whine as you clench around him.
“Simon… Si, I need to fucking breathe.” You whine, trying to grab his hand.
“Nah, you got this…” He says without looking at your face, completely hypnotised by the way your folds part to take his cock in. “You are doing amazing, sweetheart.” 
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Is only hours later, that Simon comes out of his room. Clothes changed, showered and without you (who is currently sleeping on his bed, too exhausted to even stay awake), and he walks up to the mess hall, where he assumed the boys are. 
Picking his beloved son from his captain's hands. “There you are, my boy.” He says softly, picking up the baby that looks ridiculously small in his arms. “Time for bed.” 
“Oi, LT!” Soap calls him. “So when is his sibling being born?”
He looks at Soap, his expression changing to a stern one. “Don't be disgusting, Johnny. That's my family you are talking about, have some decency”.
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I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron
(Prologue and Chapter 1)
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Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?
Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.
Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!
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Prologue
Before gold, before grams, before the gun, there was you. Back when there weren’t crosses to steal, lines to snort, cops to run from, there was you. Long summer nights on the Druthers, your mom blowing up your phone ‘cause you missed curfew again. Skipping class and riding to the beach on the back of his bike. All the way back to grade school, playing tag and pretending you were pirates. Then middle school, that kiss under the lifeguard tower, a first for both of you. In high school, the night you got back from the “character-building summer camp” you had been shipped off to and you shared your other first. When you were first together, it didn’t even hurt, but just felt like fucking finally. 
He remembers it all, taking all of his strength to keep it stuffed under the surface. The coke, the violence, the drama he creates in his wake cover you up nicely, until those nights when he’s dead asleep and there you are again, leaving. When he wakes, it all comes back to him. How he sat on the curb and watched you go, bloody and hurt from the night that was your final straw. How he showed up on your doorstep the next day, like he was five-years-old again asking if you could come outside and play. How your mother told him you were gone and wouldn’t tell him where you went.
“Honey,” she said with something like pity in her voice, “Promise me, you’ll let her go, let her be happy.”
A promise he kept, until the day you rolled back into town with no warning. Your timing could not have been worse. After the summer from hell, the summer that made him a killer, he finally felt like he was in control. It wasn’t until he saw you, the only person in the world that ever really knew him, that he realized he had no idea who he was. 
Chapter One
You clutched your phone tight, reading and rereading the message. One you used to get nearly every night but hadn’t seen in two long years.
party at cameron’s tonite !!
It was a group text, sent by the girl from your high school you bumped into in the grocery store earlier that day. You had been back on the island for all of an hour before inevitably seeing someone you knew. You tried to duck quickly into the cereal aisle, but she caught your eye before you could disappear, an action you were infamous for.
“Omg, we need to hang out soon!” She had said, before handing you her phone to put your new number in.
You smiled your fakest smile and said, “it’s a must!” You didn’t think either of you really meant it, but apparently she had.
There were eleven or twelve other numbers in the group text, none you had saved, but you assumed they were likely other people from your high school. She probably just added anyone in her contacts she could think of, not even stopping to realize she was inviting the Kook prince’s former princess to his party. Your relationship had been the stuff of legend on this island. Everyone had an opinion, you were practically a celebrity couple, and it was the biggest news on the island for months when you left, suddenly disappearing overnight. Some real shit must’ve gone down around here since then to make it such old news that this girl didn’t even think about it when adding you to this text.
Your heart pounding in your ears, you couldn’t believe it when you felt yourself typing out i’ll be there :) 
You wore your hair down, the way you always used to have it in high school. After you left, you had cut it short, wanting to shed away as much of your old life as you could, but in the last few months you’d started to let it grow back. Now it flowed down to the middle of your back, tickling the skin of your shoulders where the thin spaghetti straps of the little dress you had on left them exposed. You let the front pieces fall around your face, a sort of curtain to keep an extra layer between you and the other partygoers.
You could not believe you were here. For real this time, not in a dream as you had been every night for two years, but really here. 
As you walked down the gravel path, it all came rushing back. The smell of Rose’s garden, the distant sound of the ocean lapping against the shore, the low thud of the music echoing through the crisp evening air. How many times have you walked down this path? How many nights had you spent here, your senses filled with the glory of Tannyhill, the glory of him? And yet now it felt so heavy, the sights, sounds, smells of it all were nearly choking you. Tears welled in your eyes, but something kept your feet walking towards those grand front doors, towards him.
Four years earlier…
The glass panes of the front door are slightly blurred, only revealing the soft lighting of the grand entryway on the other side. You had crossed this threshold at least a thousand times in the ten years since your family moved to this island. Knocking felt strange, you felt so small standing here in the porch light, surrounded by moths and the thick coastal August air. An envelope, wrinkled from being opened and rifled through so many times, was clutched between your clammy hands.
A figure you couldn’t quite make out approached the door, and your heart pounded in your ears as you hoped desperately it would be him who opened the door. But it wasn’t.
“Oh, hey - I- hi, Mr. Cameron,” you stammered, ever intimidated by the island’s most powerful man.
“Y/N,” Ward nodded cordially. “It’s after 10pm.”
You smiled weakly, if you felt small before, you feel positively infantile now.
“I was just hoping I could see Rafe for like, just a second,” you pleaded, putting on your sweetest smile.
“He’s studying,” Ward said. “You can come back tomorrow. Goodnight.”
Before you could protest, the door was closed and the blurred figure retreated into the house.
Never one to give up, you stuffed the letter into the back pocket of your jeans, and stepped back from the porch, sizing up the massive house to see which rooms still had lights on. You knew the blueprint of this place by heart, checking off each family member mentally as you scanned their window for signs of life. Wheezie’s room? Dark. Sarah’s room? Dark. Rose and Ward’s room? Still lit. This would have to be a stealth mission. 
You snuck around the side of the house and looked up at the last window on your list. To your excitement, the room was still lit. You saw a long shadow pass by the curtains, and you actually jumped a little from the thrill. After spending the longest summer of your life apart from the one person you wanted to spend it with, he was actually right there, just two stories off the ground.
You traveled 800 miles today, what was a few more feet? Blocking out the better judgment ringing in the back of your mind, you picked up a few pebbles from the rocky path that leads to the backyard, and started climbing the big tree that grew right up past Rafe’s balcony. How you were gonna get from the tree to the balcony? That was five-minutes-from-now-you’s problem. You chuckled to yourself as your body naturally found each branch and knot on the tree. You used to have competitions when you were kids to see who could climb this tree the fastest, and you beat Rafe everytime. You remembered the shocked look on his face the first time he saw you scurry up the tree, you were hoping for a similar level of approving surprise once you got where you were going.
Once you reached the branch directly across from Rafe’s balcony, you pulled one of the pebbles from your pocket and chucked it at his window as hard as you could. 
“Shit,” you whisper-yelled as the throw fell short and the pebble dropped, loudly knocking into the first floor window below. You couldn’t afford another noise-causing miss, so you recalculated the throw and bit your lip as you lobbed the next pebble hard. It smacked into Rafe’s window with a loud TINK and you smiled in satisfaction. You waited a moment, then two, and still nothing. The shadowy figure did not return to the curtain. You only had one pebble left, and you had never been good at climbing back down this tree. Remembering the time you fell out of it onto the waiting Rafe below, and you both ended up needing stitches, your stomach twisted in fear. You took in a deep breath and held it, letting the last pebble fly. Another sharp TINK, and a moment of baited breath later, the tall shadow finally returned to the window.
Rafe opened the curtains harshly and you immediately broke into a wild smile. He looked so cute in his fitted gray t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, his normally gelled back her falling in messy pieces around his face. You held back a giggle, delighted by the completely confused look on his face as he searched out the window for the cause of the sound. He lifted the window open and examined the two pebbles that had fallen on the windowsill. 
You took the opportunity to whisper a loud “psssst.” His face shot up in surprise and his eyes finally found you in the tree, just a few feet off of the balcony. Where you expected to see surprised delight on his face, you instead caught something cold and irritated.
“Y/N,” he whisper-called to you. “What are you doing?”
“I just got back, I wanted to see you!” You called to him, hoping his apparent anger was just in response to his own shock.
“I’m busy.” Rafe went to close the window and you felt your moment of opportunity slip away.
“Wait!” you stopped him. “Please don’t make me climb down. We both know it won’t end well.” You smiled a sweetly shy smile you hoped would melt his icy demeanor a bit.  
He sighed and looked at you annoyed for a moment before climbing out the window, his height requiring him to duck low in order to make it through. He had grown even taller over the summer, he must have hit 6 foot by now, maybe more. Your stomach flipped as you watched his athletic frame emerge from his bedroom, now able to see how defined his arms looked in the moonlight. You’d always thought he was a cute boy, but the way he looked right now lit a fire in your belly. Then you realized what it was - while you were gone, the cute boy-next-door had become a man.
“Just reach over,” he directed you.
“I don’t think I can without falling,” you explained. “I think I’m gonna have to jump.”
“Are you stupid?” He scoffed humorlessly.
Your heart sank, the boy you left behind three months ago never would have called you stupid.
“It’ll be fine, you just have to catch me,” you explained.
He rolled his eyes and opened his arms, reaching them over the bannister of the balcony, “fine.”
The brief moment of joy you got from his submission faded fast as you made the mistake of looking down at the gap between the tree and the balcony.
“Actually…” you said, bravery fading.
“What, are you scared?” Rafe taunted.
“No!” you insisted. You smiled at him, suddenly feeling like the two of you were ten again and he was daring you to jump off the trampoline into the pool in your backyard.
Now or never. With a deep breath and a sharp yelp, you threw yourself out of the tree and towards his waiting arms on the balcony. As promised, he caught you, and pulled you quickly over the bannister. His arms wrapped around your waist, yours around his shoulders, he held you there just a few inches off the ground.
You flattened your hands against the taut muscles of his shoulders, delighting in the strong warmth of them. But before you could fully revel in the feeling of being in his arms, he released his grip on your waist and you dropped the final few inches to the ground. Rafe quickly stepped back, breaking the lock your arms had around his neck. Despite the southern summer heat, the air between you suddenly felt ice cold.
“Rafe,” you whispered, stepping towards him, but he only pulled further away.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said without even looking at you.
Rafe started back towards his window, and something gave you the feeling he was not going to invite you to follow him through it.
“I need to talk to you,” you started to explain.
Rafe whipped around to face you, the way he towered over you at his new height sending goosebumps down your spine.
“Why don’t you go talk to your new boyfriend instead?” He snapped.
You were so stunned that you let out a little laugh, which only made his furrowed brow scrunch even more in anger.
“What are you talking about?” You asked.
“I saw the pictures your camp was posting on their website all summer. I saw you wrapped around that douchebag.”
It took a moment of confused silence for you to realize what he was talking about, when it finally dawned on you, you laughed again. He turned from you and started heading towards the window again, but you caught his arm, your hand not able to fit even halfway around it.
“No, Rafe,” you explained, “That was just Andy, one of the other campers. We were doing a trust fall exercise. He dropped me like two seconds after that!”
Despite himself, Rafe turned to look at you, eyes examining you nervously. 
“Are you ok?” He asked in a small voice, wishing desperately that he didn’t care.
You smiled softly, there he was - your boy. 
“I’m fine,” you assured him, showing him the small scar on your wrist. “Just a little scrape.”
A moment passed, he avoided your eyes but allowed you to step closer, your hand sliding down his arm and slipping into his, his fingers reluctantly intertwining with yours. You knew exactly what words he was struggling to find, but decided to let him get there on his own.
Finally, “Why didn’t you answer my letters?”
Your other hand reached into your back pocket and pulled out the envelope you had tucked away. You held it out to him wordlessly. He took the letter and held it to the light coming from his room, examining it with a confused look. The envelope was addressed to him at Tannyhill, from you at camp. When he finally noticed the “return to sender” label, it all clicked.
“They kept getting returned to me, I don’t know why,” you said as you squeezed his hand. “I asked to use my phone to let you know but they wouldn’t let me. I almost just snuck out of camp and came home so I could explain it to you.”
“Your mom would’ve been so mad,” he said, finally, finally smiling at you.
“Then she would’ve just taken away my phone and we’d be back where we started,” You said. “There’s like twenty more letters like that. I don’t know why they never made it to you, it’s like someone was sabotaging me.”
Rafe seemed satisfied with your explanation and the remaining bit of anger on his face melted away completely. He stuffed the letter in his pocket and suddenly threw his arms around you, lifting you in the air as you yelped in surprise, giggling as he started planting sloppy kisses all over your face and neck.
“Shhh, baby, my parents will hear you,” he whispered. “They’ve got me locked in my tower because I failed my last quiz in this fucking summer school pre-calc class.”
“Rafe!” you said in mock-scandal. “Naughty language!”
“Oh, baby, I can say way naughtier things than that,” he growled in your ear, your cheeks now burning from real-scandal.
“C’mon,” he said, setting you down and grabbing your hand, to lead you to his still-open window. 
He placed his large hand on the small of your back as he helped you through the window, climbing in after you and closing it slowly so as to not make a sound.
You and Rafe had done some more-than-kissing things before, but that was the night you gave yourselves to each other completely. He held you after, softly kissing the scar on your arm from when Andy had dropped you.
“Never gonna let that Andy asshole touch you again,” he said between kisses. “He can find his own girl, you’re mine.”
You giggled and he looked up at you in confusion.
“Rafe,” you were laughing hard now. “Andy’s gay.”
He broke into a bashful grin, a quick blush of embarrassment swept across his cheeks before he grew serious again and started kissing up your arm.
“I don’t care,” he said. “They should all know - all the Andys and Jakes and Chads and whoeverthefucks,” his kisses had reached your neck, “no guy is ever gonna get to touch you like me.” He pulled back and looked into your eyes with a sincerity that squeezed your heart. “Gonna love you forever. Gonna marry you, make you a mom. Never gonna spend three months, or even three fucking days away from you again. That what you want?”
“Yes,” you breathed, meaning it with your whole being.
“Good.”
Now…
The memories flooded your brain as you opened the door and stepped into the home you used to think would be yours someday. The party was swelling, the vibe feeling so familiar and so uncomfortable at the same time.
You made your way straight to the kitchen, desperately needing a drink. Every step you took sent a memory flashing through your thoughts like a shock to your brain. You passed the living room and saw movie-nights-turned-make-out-sessions on the couch, playing mario kart with Sarah and Wheezie while Rafe laughed at your hyper-competitiveness, prom pictures in front of the fireplace. You passed the dining room and saw the first family dinner you were invited to, how you made Ward laugh with a story about fishing your own dad used to tell, how Rafe squeezed your thigh under the table in pride. You entered the kitchen and saw the time you and Rafe set off the smoke alarm trying to make pancakes, the time he lifted you onto the counter and went down on you when his family was out of town. And then, standing by the keg, you saw the girl who invited you, clearly plastered already.
“Omg!” She yelled when she saw you.
Everyone else in the large kitchen turned and looked at you. It felt dramatic, but you could swear the whole room fell silent when they saw you, a comical record scratch playing in your head.
The girl who invited you ran over to you, beer sloshing over the side of her solo cup and onto her shirt. 
“I can not believe you came,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I completely forgot when I invited you, about, you know, you and-”
“Can I get one of those?” you cut her off quickly, gesturing towards her drink.
Before she could answer, a loud crash came from outside the kitchen’s open french doors. The heads that had all been watching you suddenly snapped toward the sound towards the crowded back yard. When the loud bellow of a man’s voice rang out, the people in the kitchen all ran towards the unfolding scene. You pushed through the crowd and out the doors, drawn inexplicably to the voice. Your heart dropped to your stomach when you realized why - it was Rafe.
There in the backyard, packed with drunk people and lit by string lights, Rafe stood with his fist clenched in the collar of some guy’s white button up, forcefully pulling the scared looking dude toward him while he yelled.
“I said none of that fucking cheap shit,” Rafe yelled at the guy you now realized was a cater-waiter. 
“I’m sorry sir, I-” Rafe threw the man down and he fell back in the dirt.
“This isn’t some ghetto block party out in The Cut,” Rafe yelled. “Do you know who’s fucking house you’re at right now?”
The crowd around you watched, most smiling in support of the man they looked at like he was a rockstar. You cringed at the looks of admiration in their eyes and took Rafe in with your own.
He looked different, harder. His floppy blond locks had been shaved off, and he had traded old t-shirts and jeans for slacks and a polo. He was as tall and built as you remembered, but instead of it being endearing, it was just scary as he looked down at the poor server like he was gonna kill him.
Then he spat on him. He actually spat on another human being. It disgusted you in more ways than one, and you felt your heart breaking in your chest as you realized you had no idea who this man was. The boy who held you on that night four years ago and promised to be yours forever clearly didn’t live here anymore. You turned quickly and pushed back through the crowd, unable to watch another second of this sickening display of toxic masculinity.
Rafe glared down at the pogue-scum in the dirt below him, an eerily familiar feeling washed over him as something moved quickly in the corner of his eye. He turned at just the right moment to see a whip of long hair disappear through the crowd.  But it wasn’t. It couldn’t possibly be. Surely, it was not you.
to be continued
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a/n: Hiiii this is the first fic I've posted in about 10 years!! Hope you enjoyed, forgive me if I'm rusty! More chapters to come :)
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pomefioredove · 13 hours
Note
Ngl I want a sequel to bad ending 'yuu gets sold' series
Cause imagine the boys go to NBC just to find out that yuu is actuality doing great, better than great, even better than the time they were doing in NRC
I like to think that Rollo is legitimate a nice person when you remove the hatred over magic type of stuff
He deffo makes sure that yuu is well fed and clean (let's be honest, not something that yuu always has in NRC) plus treat yuu greatly
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rollo fans who are starving since everyone stopped talking about him after november I'm here for you. I see you. take my hand
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parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | 'bad' ending
summary: yuu transfers to NBC type of post: fic characters: rollo my beloved additional info: yuu is gender neutral, implied romantic ^_^
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It had been a long six months for everyone at Night Raven College.
The departure- and subsequent absence- of their beloved Ramshackle prefect was very much felt.
Days were longer, nights were darker, the first year class itself felt empty.
"At least they're not dead," was the consensus.
Of course, you continued to communicate with your friends- it wasn't like you completely dropped off the map, although Noble Bell College had a stricter policy about phone usage.
You even sent some letters back and forth, yours filled with updates and mementos, theirs with pictures of all you'd left behind.
Did you miss NRC?
Well...
You missed your friends.
But Crowley? The overblots? Being everyone's personal therapist?
...Yeah. You could live without that.
Noble Bell College may have been more exclusive, and more strict in their code of conduct, but it was more peaceful, too. Smaller, less students, and much less reliance on magic, so that you and Grim could be whole students independent of one another.
The curriculum was much different than NRC's. Less of an emphasis on a personal connection to magic, and more on tradition, ritual, and history. There were few times when you'd have to sit out a class, or watch your friends have fun from the sidelines.
If anything, Rollo made a point of including you.
A part of it may have been personal pride- after all, he just couldn't resist showing you how much better he is.
But he also had a vague idea about how stressful your life at NRC really was, and how isolated you felt, despite being surrounded by people. It was his duty, in a sense, to rectify that.
Even if it meant you had to sit through his lectures and recitations of the traditional magic laws.
...Though, even with his intense adherence to tradition and structure, he made quite a show of being kind to you.
Despite his best efforts to claim fairness and righteousness, it was no secret to anyone that he favored you. You quickly became the only person he spent his free time with (not that he was particularly social in the first place...)
And... it was nice. Is nice.
He holds himself to high standards, and expects that of others; he's cold, harsh when he feels it necessary, and repressed in all ways imaginable.
And yet... well, there's no sabotage, no swindling, no scamming, no manipulation to make petty ends meet.
Rollo, as a person, is both confusingly complex and reassuringly simple. You know as much. He sticks to routine, to rules, to tradition. He's diligent in every sense of the word, and highly respected because of it.
And when the eyes of the other students are turned away, he treats you with a sort of gentleness that you'd become wholly unfamiliar with at NRC. Like a porcelain doll, like something precious he desires to wrap in cotton and silk and store somewhere safe.
You wonder if his behavior towards you is at all connected to the very reason he risked his status bringing you here in the first place... but you don't dwell too long. He's as mysterious as anything.
When your former classmates come to visit over break, it's like they're meeting an entirely different person.
"Happy to see us, eh? You're like, glowing," Ace smirks.
Deuce elbows him in the ribs for that comment. "What he meant is that you look great. I mean, really! You've been sleeping more?"
You nod. "Lots, yeah,"
"Weird, I woulda guessed they'd been working you to the bone. This place is all "no funny business", right?" Ace shakes his head.
You laugh, walking alongside your former fellow first years in the streets of Fleur City, the very ones you'd become so accustomed to in recent months.
"I've actually been doing well with my studies. I think I've finally decided what I want to do after graduation,"
"Oh, that's great!" Deuce says. A lengthy pause follows, much to your confusion- it's as if everyone has something they want to say, but won't be the first to say it.
Epel clears his throat. "You been 'doin alright?"
"Um... yeah. I have,"
"Cause... you know, if anyone was giving you trouble, we'd give 'em what for!"
You chuckle. "I'm fine, really. People here are pretty nice..."
Again, that same silence follows. Epel, Deuce, and Ace look between each other, as if daring the other to say the next thing.
This time, you take the initiative.
"Listen. If this is about Rollo, he's fine. I'm fine. He's been nothing but helpful,"
The tense silence breaks and Ace sighs, shaking his head. "You can't blame us for being worried,"
"I mean, this whole situation has been really shady. Everyone at NRC has been worried sick..." Deuce says. "We just wanted to make sure..."
You smile. "I appreciate it, but you really don't have to send in a rescue party. I've been... I've been really good. Happy. And I miss you guys to pieces, but I've felt closer to home here than anywhere else. Does that sound strange?"
A short pause follows. Deuce is the first to speak, his voice sounding strained. "Not at all. We just want you to be happy,"
You can tell he's trying really hard to sound positive. Epel, on the other hand, doesn't sugarcoat anything.
"You really won't come back with us?"
You smile again, though this one is wholly apologetic. "No, I don't think so,"
The three are quiet for another moment, and then seem to drop the subject. The rest of their stay goes by smoothly, even with all the strained moments where you can tell they have something to ask. You assume they've already figured out the answer.
The day trip is over by sundown and you return to campus just before curfew, taking a seat in one of the cozy (though currently empty) lounges by a familiar face.
"They're gone?" Rollo asks, not bothering to look up from the textbook he's perusing.
You watch him carefully, and think it's best not to mention you friend's attempt to bring you back with them.
"Yes, they're gone. We had fun, nothing happened,"
"Good," he says. A brief silence follows before he speaks again. "I do trust you. But-"
"You don't trust them. I understand. If I were you, I suppose I wouldn't, either. But I'm fine,"
"When are they coming back?"
"Two months. They're taking the weekend. Might bring some other people,"
Rollo hums a note of acknowledgment, fingers rolling around the pen in his right hand. The book is still open, though he's looking ahead now. His face is flushed.
You know he's unhappy with it, but he won't say anything. You're grateful he likes you enough to let you rub elbows with people he despises. Especially after all that's happened...
He stands, closing the book. "Very well. Let me know what day so that I may adequately prepare myself. Good night. Be safe,"
And with that, he takes his leave.
Ever distant. Ever polite. One might mistake the way he speaks for coldness or resentment if you weren't so familiar with his mannerisms by now.
You turn to look into the lounge fireplace behind you, watching the flames flicker and die until all that remains are soft, glowing embers, the same shade of red that burns on his cheeks when you look at him.
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meechlamajor · 10 hours
Note
Ice Brady nsfw and fluff hcs pls😭🙏🏾 not enough love for my girl frl frl
ICE BRADY AS YOUR GIRLFRIEND HEADCANONS — SFW AND NSFW
Warnings: suggestions of sex, “bullying,” fluff, idfk a happy couple???? that upsets people sometimes and i don’t understand, but hey!
Author’s Note: this request made me SO happy, you don’t even know, ice is so beautiful to me and so underrated.
SFW
— Your favorite thing to do is to catch Ice off guard just to mess with her, so I feel you’d probably walk by her and flick her forehead or something stupid.
— You keep her favorite snacks on hand. I’m talking about in your car, in your backpack, in your room (you probably have a mini fridge or something), literally anywhere you can keep them because she’ll ask. And it doesn’t bother you to do this, you do it in part because you want to.
— The both of you keep hair ties on your wrists for one another. It’s the thought of being considered that matters to her.
— You guys watch “Is It Cake” together. Every couple needs their show and this one is yours. Ice threatens here and there to watch it without you if you do something she doesn’t like.
— You share a stuffed animal from Build-A-Bear and it’s 100% your child. I feel like it’d come up on a live or something. Maybe you walk in on one of KK’s very interesting livestreams and you’re like “where’s the baby?” The comments would go nuts about this alleged baby.
— I don’t think PDA would be Ice’s thing, the most I could see her doing is some hand-holding and maybe a kiss on the forehead if you get lucky. I feel like she’s just private in that way.
Imagine you’re sitting in on a practice, catching up on homework while she and the team works. You’re typing away when Ice comes over for a water break, and you bother you.
“Hi, babe,” you smile up at her.
She smiles too, her eyes forming little crescent moons. She leans over quickly and kisses your forehead. “What’s this?” Ice motions to the computer resting on your lap.
“Assignment for Dr. Smith. I’m worn out,” you reply, putting your laptop on the vacant chair next to you.
She grabs your hands, pulling you up. “Take a break and join us then.”
— Ice doesn’t give me jealous vibes either, she knows that you’re hers and she’s yours imo.
Maybe someone comments on an Instagram post or approaches you in person, I don’t think Ice would care that much. She’s not insecure and I think she might even try her hardest not to laugh.
Imagine it’s a hot summer day and you guys decided to go get shaved ice.
You and Ice approach the stand, both getting whatever you want, but you both always end up sharing anyway.
“Someone’s looking at you,” Ice sings into your ear, poking your side.
You glance over, eyeing a group of guys at a table a few paces away. One of them is particularly starstruck by your beauty.
“Ew,” you roll your eyes. “Kiss me,” you beg.
Ice shakes her head, her blonde braids moving. “I don’t really want to spoil his fun.”
— I also feel like with her, you’d never stop laughing. Ice is genuinely so fucking funny you’d have abs after spending a few hours with her.
— Of course, you get her rebounds for her 🥰.
NSFW
— I feel like toys are a no 🌚… just no.
— Praise kink 1000%
— I feel like Ice definitely has the stamina, she could go multiple times if she really wanted to.
— She’s out like a light after doing the deed, though.
— I get sub vibes, don’t ask why, I just get the feeling.
— *clears throat* exhibitionist
— I think Ice would like hickies or open-mouthed kisses for sure. Foreplay for the win 🫶🏾 I think she might not even want to cover them up, but might do it anyway just so that people don’t say anything, you know?
— I think there are definitely some fantasies and things that you both would want to try. I think she’d be open to it as long as it’s not something that’s objectively weird… iykyk.
— HAIR PULLING 🙉
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maybege · 3 days
Text
What If - Part 3
Summary: The more you get to know Paz Vizsla, the more you fall for him.
Pairing: alpha!Paz Vizsla x omega!fem!Reader
Wordcount: 5.8k | Rating: E (18+ only!)
Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, explicit sexual content, size kink (Paz is big-big), semi-public sex, thigh riding, cockwarming, dirty talk, idiots in love
Whoop whoop! Another weekend, another part! This is, technically, part 2.2 with some more smut, some fluff, some idiots in love and a very special adorable guest star that could not miss if we want to talk about Paz in S3. Thank you so much to everyone who wrote a comment or reblogged the story so far, I really appreciate it and I hope that you enjoy this part too. The next (and last) part will be out either next week or the week after, just because I need to channel all the angst lol
Again: Just a little reminder, that this is not strictly adhering to canon and I am just roughly imagining what actually happened during these episodes.
masterlist | crossposted on AO3
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You woke up alone the next morning, the sun already high in the sky. It was later than usual but you felt so blissed out, you could not really bring yourself to care. Your entire body felt deliciously exhausted and as you stretched your arms over your head, letting out a big yawn, you realized that you had slept better in this stranger’s (though could still call Paz Vizsla a stranger now?) bed than in the last few years in your own cot.
There was a fresh bowl of fruit on the desk and this time you did not hesitate to devour the tasty berries which you knew he had meant for you. The sheer fact alone that Paz Vizsla had organized breakfast for you made your heart race.
The sun was out in full force by the time you left the ship. You could see people milling about, carrying crates this and that way and for a moment you felt bad that you had slept the day away instead of helping.
But then you thought about how your job for these few days was to be a calmer. And if your alpha (yours) was calm and happy and made your heart skip a beat, then you had done your job by keeping the peace and prolonging Axe Wove’s life for yet another day.
Rounding the ship to get to the inventory, you passed by another ramp, this one almost completely abandoned except for a small figure that huddled at the entrance. When you came close enough, you realised it was a child. Still helmeted with the same blue as Paz’s clan, but certainly a child if the frail shoulders and little hands were anything to go by.
For a moment, you hesitated. You didn’t know what it was like in their clan but in yours, it was rare to see a foundling on their own and even rarer to leave them on their own if they were upset. So you approached him.
“Hi,” you greeted the child sitting, “You okay?”
You could hear sniffles under his helmet and your heart broke. Clearly, they were not okay.
“Yeah,” the boy mumbled, turning away from you, “Go away.”
Forgotten were the happy activities of last night and the way Paz Vizsla could make you smile even in his absence. “Were – do you maybe want to talk to one of the elders of your tribe?”
He shook his head fervently.
“Sometimes it helps me to speak about it with a friend,” you suggested lightly, “Do you have a friend you want to talk to? I could get them if you like?”
“I don’t need your help,” he spat suddenly and you recognized the hurt in his voice, your mouth grimacing at the pain he must feel. And you were not about to abandon a hurt child, no matter how angry they might be.
True to your feelings, it did not take long before he spoke up. His voice was much softer than before.
“They said I could not be a good Mandalorian because –“ he shook his head again, folding his arms over his knees.
“Because?” you asked carefully, debating whether any of the clans might be offended if you consoled this child. But in the end, you decided, you all just valued the foundlings’ happiness.
“Because I have never been to Mandalore.”
You hummed in acknowledgement.
“Most of the people here have never been to Mandalore,” you explained gently, “I haven’t been either and you don’t see me being treated like I’m no Mandalorian, right?”
He tilted his head, musing over your words. You could see how he was debating your helmetless existence and not for the first time did you wonder what it was like to grow up in one of the more stricter tribes. Whether their foundlings grew up knowing that there were other ways – many ways, actually – to the same goal.
“My dad has been to Mandalore,” he said suddenly with the pride only a child could have.
“Really?” you asked, “And he never told you that you need to have been on Mandalore to be a true Mandalorian?”
He shook his head eagerly. “No, he said I am a true Mandalorian no matter where I was or not. The important thing is to honour the way of the warriors,” he quoted his father with a deeper voice and you smiled at his antics.
“Your father sounds like a very wise man,” you nodded, “And don’t you think he would know a bit more about being Mandalorian than your fellow foundlings?”
That seemed to give him pause. “Yes, my buir is very smart,” he said thoughtfully, “And I don’t think that Loren and Say’na have been to Mandalore either, actually.”
“See?” you nudged him playfully, “They don’t know what they’re talking about either. We are all just on our journey to become Mandalorian.”
The boy nodded, clearly in a cheerier mood than before. Then he turned to you fully. “I am Ragnar,” he inclined his head, “This is the way.”
Recognizing it as his greeting, you repeated your name and the phrase,
“What do you think Mandalore will look like?” he asked eagerly, “Have you dreamt about it? I have. I think it is going to be full of the highest mountains and no caves in sight, I don’t like caves. And waterfalls too! Buir said he saw a waterfall as a child and he promised one day he would show me.”
Grinning at his excited chatter, you listened carefully to the pictures he painted with his words. Of snow-capped mountains and rain forests so full of rain, there would never be any deserts in sight. (Turns out Ragnar did not like deserts nor the creatures that lived in them.)
“What do you think Mandalore will look like?” he asked again after a while and despite the blacked-out visor on his face, you could picture his eyes twinkling in delight.
“I think it will be full of grassy hills and lakes,” you revealed, “When I was little, I always dreamed that I could wake up to the sound of waves and take a swim whenever I wanted. Has your buir told you what Mandalore is like?”
“Buir does not like to talk about it,” he shrugged, “But I am sure if you would ask him nicely, he would tell you! He always says I'm too small for that stuff but you are big! Though my buir is bigger, he is the best warrior in our tribe and one day, I am just going to be like –“
“Who do we have here?”
“Buir!” the boy called excitedly and you watched with utter surprise and fascination as he jumped up straight into the arms of the warrior who had kept you company the last few nights.
“You are – He is – What –“
“Getting all speechless again, ‘mega?” the large man joked, “Seems I have that kind of effect on you, huh?”
You were so flustered you did not know what to say. Instead, you just snapped your mouth shut as your brain worked overtime. Paz had a son. Ragnar was Paz’s son. Paz was Ragnar’s father.
Now that you saw them together, their helmets the same colour as the night sky, you wondered how you had not realized it earlier. But Paz had never mentioned a child. And as you watched Paz set Ragnar down again, a heavy hand on his shoulder, you wondered whether Ragnar might have a mother somewhere that still played a role in Paz’s life.
The thought made you feel strangely queasy.
“Buir, she has never seen Mandalore before either,” Ragnar announced, looking up at his father, “Maybe I can be a good Mandalorian after all.”
“How many times have I told you your value as a warrior quality is not dependent on whether you have been to Mandalore,” he chided his son gently in a way that parents often did when their children finally had a revelation after years of them telling them the exact same thing.
“Sometimes it helps to hear it from someone else,” you said quietly. Paz’s gaze snapped to you and you swallowed.
“I suppose that is right,” he said and as Ragnar decided to jog back to his now-again friends to play, Paz came to stand in front of you in all his glory, covering the sun from your face.
“Ragnar is very sweet,” you started shyly, “I didn’t know he – or that you – He … he is very proud to be Mandalorian.”
“That he is,” your alpha replied, “Some clans don’t see him as my son ever since I found him all alone but to me and mine he is my son in all the ways that matter.”
“Our clan has the concept of foundlings, too, you know?” you smiled, your heart bursting in your chest at how protective he was over his son, “He is very proud of his father.”
“And I am very proud of my son,” he replied, “He, uh, he only recently had his helmet ceremony. And it got interrupted in a – he – let’s just say there is nothing I would not do for him. A world without him is no world for me.”
“And that is all that matters,” you reassured him, your heart skipping a beat while your head tortured you with images of what he would be like as a father of your children.
“Did you sleep well?”
You shook your head slightly, shaking off the question of whether he would mind being the father of your future children, “I did, though I am a bit sore.”
His hands immediately appeared at your side, gently helping you up as if soreness rendered you incapable of carrying your weight on your legs. You snorted, feverishly trying not to think about how the heat of his body seeped through your clothes, “Alpha, it is not that bad.”
“I like it when you call me alpha,” he rumbled, not seeming the least bit worried about his concern for you, pulling you closer so he could wrap his arms around you properly, “You did it last night … maybe you can do it tonight too.”
Your core felt molten at the thought of being in his arms for the rest of the day and you were sure he could see how your chest was heaving in excitement. Though as much as you wanted to, there was a tiny voice in the back of your head that made you hesitant.
“I am not sure if I can leave again,” you spoke out loud, “It … Would you truly be okay with me joining your clan quarters for the night again?”
“I don’t think it will come to that conversation at all,” Paz said, his hand sweeping over your back, “The council has decided,” he announced quietly, “We will make our way to Mandalore by nightfall. And if you are comfortable with the thought, I'd like to share my cot with you.”
*
The ship offered no privacy.
While Paz did have his private room –  the one you had spent the previous night in – getting all clans onto one or two ships, meant having to share and rethink the limited space available. As a sign of respect to the clan leader, Paz Vizsla offered Sluice his room and she accepted.
This meant that Paz, along with his fellow warriors, was assigned one of the bunk beds. And one of them meant one of 64 in a large narrow room with too high ceilings and four bunks stacked on top of each other.
The worry in his voice was clear, even through the helmet, when you helped him carry his personal belongings (including a very soft blanket you distinctly remembered cuddling into), assuring you that you could change your mind. But the thought of leaving Paz had not occurred to you once and when you pointed out that several calmers had joined their alphas in the large room and none of them seemed to mind, his shoulders had visibly relaxed.
“We will find privacy in other corners of the ship,” he had promised you, his voice low and deep and sending shivers down your spine.
Only you had not expected him to find privacy so soon.
You were walking down one of the abandoned hallways of the ship, trying to get a feel for the layout so you would not get lost on your way to the cantina again. The negotiations had been postponed once more and with Paz in his polished armour, bent over a strategy table, you decided to flee the cockpit so Chants could not see just how needy you were for your alpha.
Your alpha.
You smiled, the warm feeling in your chest expanding until your entire body felt warm and cosy, thrumming at the thought of him. Could it be that Paz Vizsla really was your alpha? You had never expected to find what some of the elders had called true mates: a person – an alpha – that was just perfect for you and for whom you were perfect. And while you were not sure if you were truly someone that he would want forever, you were getting surer and surer that he was that someone for you.
You were just about to turn a corner when a hand closed around your upper arm and drew you back. Instincts kicked on and you squeaked, flinging your leg back to try and kick back into your attacker but they turned you around so quickly, you had no chance. Within moments, your back was pressed into the cool metal wall behind you, with no option of escape. And a blue helmet entered your vision. “Paz,” you gasped just before his hand came down on your throat. He was not wearing his gloves, which meant he must have planned it all beforehand. You wondered when. And how. And if he spent more time thinking about you than you thought (an idea that filled you with an immense sense of hope) but all thought evaporated when his thumb brushed over your scent gland.
Fuck, you were needy for him.
“Is that okay?” he checked in, his voice rough. His helmet came down against your forehead and you could sense him looking at you so intensely you felt like you could never hide from him. “Wanted to surprise you.”
You nodded, pressing your thighs together when his fingers twitched on your throat. He was so in control of you, of the situation, it felt like you could flood your underwear just upon his command.
“You're not wearing gloves,” you whispered.
He hummed, his thumb scenting you again, “No, I wanted to feel you.”
“O-okay,” you gasped, writhing against him. His thick thigh slipped between your legs and your toes were barely touching the floor when he angled his leg just so. He made you dangle, the only things holding you being his hand on your throat and his thigh on your pussy.
And you did not want to have it any other way.
You did not have to see him to know he had a very amused grin on his face. “You like my armour,” he stated, his legs shifting and you squirmed, “Let’s see how much.”
“Wh-What?”
“Ride my thigh, omega,” he instructed, his fingers flexing around your throat, “When I step foot onto our home I want to have my armour marked by your come.”
“Don’t – don’t you want to fill me up again?” you asked, trying to tease him even though you felt like you were in no position to tease at all. More like begging. Was it too early to beg? “Or – or have me cockwarm you?” you added as an afterthought.
“Who says I cannot do all of these?” he chuckled, bumping you on his leg so high it put pressure on the part you needed most, “After all we still have at least a dozen hours before us.”
Your hands flew to his shoulders, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep you somewhat steady. Almost immediately, you slipped your fingers to his cowl almost immediately and Paz did not stop you when your fingertips managed to find his warm skin, brushing over it until you found his scent gland.
“I don’t see you grinding yet,” he said instead, angling his knee even higher and you squeaked, “Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?”
Of course, you did. And he knew it.
With your dress hiked up over his leg, you could feel the coldness of his beskar through your underwear. And what might have been a turn-off under normal circumstances, with Paz towering over you, shifting his leg again as a reminder of his presence, you found that it turned you beyond belief.
You started moving your hips slowly, though you felt like you were failing miserably at exuding any kind of sex appeal. With your feet having no real contact with the ground and Paz fixing your head so you would not lose his gaze, you felt anything but graceful. But he did not change his stance, nor his grip on your body. While he kept one large hand on your throat, his thumb consistently brushing over your scent gland, the other wandered to the cleavage of your dress.
As soon as he started pulling the delicate neckline down, baring you to his eyes so slowly, your breath got heavier until it just got stuck in your throat. You wanted to please him, stars, how you wanted to please him. And you knew that he liked you, knew that he found you beautiful and yet, at this moment, it was only his mumbles “Stars, you’re so beautiful” that had you release your breath.
And worry about other things.
“What if someone sees?”
“Then they’ll only see my back,” he replied, his fingers playing with your tits and tracing over your pebbled nipples, “And if they tried to see anymore, they will have to deal with the consequences.”
Something in his tone, the possessive undertone, paired with his scent, caused a fresh wave of arousal in you. You could feel your panties sticking to your folds, the wetness gathering on the delicate fabric. There was something slightly humiliating about your position like this, out in the open, and yet you could feel no shame.
Not when Paz made you feel like the most beautiful omega ever to exist.
Soon, you grew more confident in your movements, grinding properly against the hard beskar plate. It was so unforgiving and Paz just kept on playing with your tits, gently plucking at your nipples like it did not make you tremble in his arms. “Could play with these all night,” he murmured, “One day I am gonna have your cock warm me all naked so I get to take my time. Just going to play with these until you’re blind from pleasure.”
You wanted to remind him that the last time he took his time, you had ended up being unable to speak and move. (Though the sleep afterwards had been fantastic.) But the words got stuck in your throat when his hand left your throat (and, regrettably, your scent gland) and pulled your panties aside.
Already, you could feel how drenched you were but could not find it in you to be embarrassed. Instead of ceasing your grinding at the thought of someone accidentally passing by, all you could do was hope that his finger might catch on your clit. They did not. Though knowing that he stared at where your folds left races of wetness on his made you even hotter. Your breaths grew heavier, the knot in your core tighter, and as you thought about cockwarming him until he filled you up again and again, you lost all inhibition.
Tightening your arms around his neck, you hoisted yourself up and closer to his chest. The proximity allowed you to pulse your hips and stars, did it feel good, the way your folds and your clit bumped over the texture of his thigh plate. You wondered how the design came to be – and although you were very sure that this particular situation hadn’t been considered when forging it, you still sent a silent thank you to whoever had made this piece. A few thrusts later, the beskar had warmed with your touch and with your increasing arousal it also became a much easier glide.
“Look at you,” Paz rumbled, clearly pleased, “Marking me for everyone to see. Grinding yourself on my armour like it is my cock.”
His words sparked a sudden idea. The kind of idea that made your heart race and your brain fuzzy but something in your chest told you that Paz would love it just as much as you.
With surprising determination, you surged forward and attached your mouth to the sliver of skin you had freed. His skin was warm and salty under your tongue as you sucked on his scent gland. His taste exploded on your tongue and you moaned, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.
Paz grunted, his body slamming you into the wall, punching the air out of your lungs.
“Fuck,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips and taking control of your movements. You could feel his bulge against your leg and knowing he was as affected by your pleasure made your heart flutter.
It did not take long for you to completely come apart in his arms. With his cock straining against his codpiece, your clit rubbing over his thigh plate your almost-but-not-quite exposure to anyone who might walk by, it had only been a matter of time.
You moaned against his neck, shaking in his arms as your walls clenched around nothing, wishing for his cock inside you.
“You're doing so good for me,” he growled, “Mark me, sweetheart. Do it.”
Your teeth just barely grazed his scent gland when you had the realization that, yes, this was what you wanted him to do. You wanted him to mark you, you wanted to mark him.
You wanted this man to be your alpha.
Another wave of pleasure rolled over you, making you whimper in the cold silence of the hallway. Your entire body just sagged into him, completely pliant for the man in front of you. And Paz was there to catch you, holding you up against him.
“Good omega,” he whispered, as he slowed your movements, gradually working you down from your high, “You are amazing.”
“Hmmm,” you hummed against his neck, brushing your nose over his scent gland, “You smell amazing.”
“Cause I smell like you,” he whispered, “C’mon, let’s get out of here before someone sees.”
“They won't though,” you slurred, your tongue still heavy in your mouth, “Cause you won't let them.”
He paused, his hands brushing from your shoulders to your hands. Slowly, his fingers intertwined with yours as if he were afraid you would run away if he were to touch you too soon. With him standing in front of you, his leg no longer between yours, gravity did its thing as your dress fell over your legs, hiding the sticky mess between your legs. Though your expression and scent probably gave it away to anyone who looked at you for more than a fleeting moment.
“Yes,” he said warmly, “I won't.”
Smiling through the haze, you rested your head against his chest and he let you. Being hugged by Paz made you feel secure in a way you had never experienced before. His arms tightened around you and he started to slowly sway from side to side, humming a melody you did not recognize.
“How are you so comfortable?” you asked in a mumble, trying to smooth your cheek against him through the cold beskar was nothing like the warmth of his skin.
He did not answer directly but you did notice a change in his scent, something that you hadn’t noticed before. You breathed in deeply, trying to decipher where this scent of woods and sweetness had come from but Paz interrupted your thoughts, “Will you let me accompany you to your bunk?”
“Will I?” you scoffed, your voice still sounding weak to your ears, “You have to, alpha, you’ve got a tendency to make my legs tremble.”
“Say stuff like this and I will make them tremble again.”
“Is that supposed to be a threat?”
“A promise, love,” he chuckled, “It’s a promise.”
*
You were not sure what you had expected when the entire Mandalorian population got cramped onto one ship, but it certainly had not been a board game championship.
“Hm, I could get used to that,” Paz murmured in your ear, his hand on your back, “Getting Ragnar to bed, having a nice drink to finish off the evening, sitting you on my cock and beating that annoying alpha in every single game this ship has to offer.”
You smiled against his neck, not opening your eyes. You had spent the last few hours just ... dozing. It was kind of scary to think about how quickly you had gotten used to this strange man but when you had settled for the evening, it was not even a question where you would spend the last few hours of the day.
As soon as the large alpha had sat down at one of the little play tables, so had you, straddling him with your chest against his and he had gotten an extra blanket from somewhere, muttering under his breath how he knew you got cold easily.
It made your cheeks heat up in a different way.
But now here you were, his cock nestled deep inside you and your face in the crook of his neck. Getting to touch even the tiniest sliver of skin felt like a privilege and the fact that he allowed you to do so in front of many of the other warriors made it feel even more intimate. Paz did not mind you scenting him. Quite the opposite, actually, he seemed to relish in it.
The previous night he had spent the time just like this, sitting you on his cock with a rumble in his chest. Only that time he had been able to reciprocate the scenting in kind. Whenever you had drifted awake (multiple times since some couples just could not keep quiet), his mouth had been on your neck, raining lavish kisses upon the sensitive skin until you squirmed in his lap. He had been awake every time you had drifted off and every time your eyes fluttered open beneath the blindfold. He had been still yes, quiet too, and smelled incredibly comfortable but his hands, his hips slowly working you open until you had muffled your gasps into his chest and come on his cock. And then he had traced his fingertips over your scent gland until you had fallen back asleep.
You wondered if he had not slept because he was nervous or perhaps because he just did not need to. You knew of a few warriors in your tribe who had made it a tradition not to sleep the night before a big battle or a trial, instead mulling over strategies and meditating until the time had come.
Briggs called them idiots.
But Paz was not an idiot.
Not with the way he carried himself so securely through the ship, how he participated in the training session, giving pointers to the younger warriors. And certainly not with the way he argued in the cockpit, discussing the best route to go to Mandalore and the strategy for how to reclaim it.
And definitely not with the way his hand was gently stroking your back, how his chest rumbled whenever you pressed a lazy kiss to his scent gland and how he made sure you were comfortable, checking in with you every time he shifted.
“You comfortable too, sweetheart?” he asked you, inclining his head so the side of his helmet was resting against your temple. The proximity allowed you not only to bury your face in his neck but also to hear his real voice – a fact that made your heart skip a beat, “Getting some rest?”
You hummed, too lazy to speak but chose to kiss his neck instead. The stretch made him shift inside you and you whimpered. He had come inside you once already and refused to knot you. (“The first time I knot you won't be in a room where everyone can see just how pretty you come for me,” had been his exact words and you had been too excited by the prospect of him knotting you to understand the implications of the rest of the words.) Which meant that there was a growing mess between your thighs, a mix of your juices and his seed and where other alphas might have found it uncomfortable, the reminder that he had filled you seemed to make Paz even harder than before.
“I’d be concerned if I had to ask my calmer if they are comfortable,” Axe Wove’s voice grated on your nerves and you wondered not for the first time if it was really necessary to be nice to him or if it would suffice to just keep Bo-Katan happy, “You wanna switch, sweetheart?”
You had not even registered that he was speaking to you until you felt Paz tense underneath you, his scent getting an acid note that made your nose twitch, “Say that again.”
“You heard me,” Axe Woves hissed, “Perhaps your omega would actually be satisfied if she were with me.”
You squeaked when you were simply lifted off Paz’s cock, his hands gripping your waist just a little bit too tight for comfort. He was angry, you could gather as much. But was that truly reason enough to kick you out of your favourite spot when you had just started to doze off again?
With trembling hands, you fought to close your robe as fast as possible. But when you finally looked up from fiddling with the belt, it was already too late.
The tell-tale buzzing of the vibro blade cut through the tense silence in the room and you knew shit was about to go down.
“Alpha,” you started to rush to his side but were kept on your spot by a pair of arms that were not your alpha’s.
You turned around angrily, ready to chide anyone who dared to keep you from trying to calm your alpha. Because that’s what he was. Your alpha.
“You know you cannot intervene.”
“Chants –“
“Everyone is watching,” your friend reminded you urgently. You knew he was right. That did not mean you had to like it though. Anyone going to stop a fight between two Mandalorian warriors had to be ready to fight themselves. And apart from your lack of clothing or your body still being disoriented from sitting on Paz’s cock not even five minutes ago, your lack of training did not lend itself to try and stop whatever was going on.
A roar was going through the crowd as they gathered to see what was going on. You caught glimpses of Sluice and the Armourer watching the fight unfold – Sluice looking just as displeased as Briggs, wherever he was, you were sure – and you grew restless. Paz making you fight made you nervous, the thought that there was even the slimmest chance that he could get hurt made you sick to your stomach.
However, after a few minutes of watching Paz fight, you found you did not mind seeing him throw and avoid punches. There was something very attractive about the way he strong-armed his way through the fight. Both men were capable warriors, that much was obvious, but his display of pure strength reminded you of your moment in the hallway and your raging heartbeat calmed down.
Paz could take care of this. He could take care of himself.
It was only when the silver-armoured man – Djarin, you thought – stomped into the circle, gripping Paz by the back of his neck and pulling him away the same way that Bo-Katan Kryze pulled away Axe Woves, finally putting distance between the two alphas.
You took that as your chance to intervene. Chants had no chance to stop you as you slipped out of his grasp and hurried towards Paz. His chest was heaving and his hands kept clenching by his side and you could smell his anger even from several steps away.
But it did not scare you. Because deep down you knew that no matter how big he was, no matter how angry, Paz Vizsla would never even think of hurting you.
“Alpha,” you whispered and the crowd went quiet, “I mean, uh, Paz.”
Taking a stand in front of him you hoped that he was focussing on you instead of a raging Axe Woves behind you. And your heart skipped a beat when his hands gently pulled you against him. He was aware of you, he noticed you, he did not care more about the fight than you.
“He said that I could not pleasure you,” he grunted and you moved to his side.
“I heard what he said,” you smiled, your hand gripping his while you rested your chin against his upper arm, “And it is obvious to me that he does not know what he is talking about.”
That seemed to relax him a little because you could see his shoulders drop and his fingers intertwined with yours. “No?” he asked, tugging you closer, “Are you sure, omega?”
“I am very sure,” you replied, feeling a little breathless, “No one ever made me feel like you do, alpha. Cherished and safe and wanted and … and –“ loved “– appreciated the way you do.”
“Can I let you go, Vizsla?” his friend asked, his tone neutral though you could swear you detected a hint of exasperation in it, “Or will you try to start another clan war?”
“Fuck off, Djarin,” Paz said, clearly not offended at the other man’s accusation, and shook his friend off but keeping his hold on your hand, “’m fine.”
“Yeah, sure,” the other man scoffed but left anyway, disappearing into the crowd that kept dwindling away now that nothing of interest was going on. But a few eyes remained on you and you suddenly became aware of how little you were wearing and how much you were being watched.
“Can we leave, alpha?” you asked, thumb brushing over his wrist and you loved how his head tilted to look at you. How he seemed to be so focused on you, you never need to worry he was in danger of ignoring you. “To … I don’t know to where, just … somewhere we’re alone.”
“I can take you to bed, omega,” he suggested, his hands falling to your hips, “I can … I could hold you close and scent you again. We got the curtain and the blindfold and our own little space. How does that sound?”
“That sounds like a dream,” you smiled in relief, already dragging him in the direction of the bunkroom, “Please take me to bed, alpha.”
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hearts-hunger · 8 hours
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Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Taglist Form
Summary: For Josh, home is where you are. | Standalone in the Cabin Fever universe
Pairings: Josh x Wife! Reader (Josh POV) | Genres: domestic fluff, angst, hurt/comfort | Word Count: 3k | Warnings: a little mention of spice
A/N: I loved Josh's most recent insta caption about the stage being his ethereal living room he gets to share with us, but I also love hurt/comfort, so I made it angsty and fluffy for Josh and Baby. I hope you like it! ♡
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“The stage is your ‘ethereal living room’?”
Josh looked up from the charcuterie board he was meticulously arranging to see you on your phone, presumably scrolling through the concert pictures he’d posted half an hour ago. He smiled.
“Yeah, you know.” He tapped a row of crackers into line until they were perfect. “The shows are a place where people come together to enjoy each other’s company. Somewhere that feels like home.”
You didn’t say anything. He glanced up at you again.
“Ethereal means — ”
“I know what ethereal means, Josh.” Your face went pink. “It’s just not usually a word you use to describe a living room.”
He was a little surprised at your tone; it bordered on sounding upset, but maybe that was just because he’d embarrassed you, though he certainly hadn’t meant to.
“I was just trying to help, baby,” he said gently. He tried for some humor. “And you’re right, it’s not usually a word you’d use to describe a living room. Definitely not our living room in the state it’s been in lately.”
That had the opposite of the intended effect, and he wished he could take it back when your face fell. “You don’t think it’s ready for tonight?”
“No, no,” he said quickly. “It’s ready now. Everything looks great. I just meant that we haven’t been as good about tidying every night, so it’s been a wreck recently.”
“Right,” you said, but it was doubtful and tense. “Well, I tried to get most of it done while you were at work — ”
“I know, baby.” He felt that he’d botched this conversation pretty badly, but you also seemed much more sensitive than you usually were. “It was a huge help, and I’m grateful that you did most of the cleaning when we made the mess together.”
“I didn’t make it quite as ethereal as a concert, though,” you said, and your laugh was a little strained.
He wondered at your fixation on the wording of his caption, but maybe you were trying to make it into a running joke.
“The Kiszkas wouldn’t know what to do with a living room too perfect for this world,” he teased. He set the board on the other side of the island and went hunting for the wine glasses. “Could you grab me the corkscrew, honey?”
You did as he said, but there was a pensiveness to your body language that made him worry. You’d been in a great mood all day, his happy bubbly girl, spending the day shopping and tidying and preparing for the dinner party you were hosting. Jake, Sparrow, Sam, and Danny were due to arrive any time now, and Josh had thoroughly enjoyed spending time with you after work getting your home ready for your family. He didn’t know what had brought on this sudden change in mood, and he racked his brain for what could have caused it and what he could do to fix it.
“Dessert smells really good,” he said sincerely. “Did you end up putting the strawberries in there too?”
You handed him the corkscrew and stood uneasily as he opened the Riesling, toying with the sleeve of your pretty dress.
“No,” you said quietly. “It’s just regular blackberry cobbler. I didn’t think you’d mind.”
A frown tugged at his features. “I don’t,” he said. He popped the cork out.  “Of course I don’t mind. That sounds great, honey.”
“It’s not very exciting,” you said apologetically.
He didn’t know where this was going. Surely you weren’t upset about the dessert you’d made, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what you really were upset about. He decided to stick with his usual strategy, which was mostly just continuing to be sweet to you. 
“I don’t need exciting, baby,” he said, kissing your cheek. “It’ll be perfect. I can’t wait to try it.”
Working together, but without your usual quips and jokes back and forth, you and Josh put the finishing touches on dinner before the doorbell rang. Josh put his dishtowel over his shoulder and went to welcome your guests in, and he was happy that you joined him.
“You look beautiful, baby,” he said. “I love that dress on you.”
You touched a hand to the neckline of your summery black dress patterned with little red cherries. “Oh, well, it’s only a sundress. But... thank you.” The usual enthusiastic enjoyment of his compliments he loved hearing was nowhere in your voice. He wished he could wait to open the door and ask what was bothering you, but the doorbell was now accompanied by rhythmic knocking the type of which only a drummer could deliver. 
“I’m telling you,” Josh said, trying one last-ditch attempt to coax a smile out of you. “This ethereal living room business — it’s better if it’s just our plain old living room with these hooligans.”
The smile you gave him was clearly only for his sake, not even reaching your eyes. Discouraged and unable to stall any longer, he turned the door handle. 
“I didn’t mean to push this on you,” you blurted. Your expression was anxious and regretful. “I’m sorry, Josh.”
By the time he’d processed what you’d said, the door was already open, and your family was coming inside full of laughter and bearing gifts of wine and appetizers and card games to play. He wanted to jump right into the festive atmosphere his brothers and sister-in-law brought with them, but he was completely preoccupied by your blurted-out apology for... what? What could you have to be sorry for? He looked across the foyer and felt his heart twist when he saw your strained smile as you welcomed your family inside.
“Alright, Kiszkas,” he said with more levity than he felt. He ushered everyone into the living room, pointing out the drinks and snacks on the kitchen island. “Eat, drink, and be merry. Dinner’s almost ready.” 
He asked Danny to watch the sauce simmering on the back of the stove, wanting to try and get a moment with you before dinner. He left Sparrow and his brothers chatting and snacking in the kitchen and found you in the dining room, double-checking the place settings you’d already made perfect an hour before.
“Baby,” he said gently. “What did you mean, you’re sorry for ‘pushing this on me’? Did you mean dinner?”
You bit the inside of your cheek. “I should have asked you before I planned it.”
He leaned against the doorframe. “You did ask me. Didn’t you?”
“I don’t think so,” you said sheepishly. “I think I just told you I was doing it, and you went along with it.”
“Oh. Well, I don’t mind,” he said sincerely. “I’m glad you planned it.” He debated giving you space or pressing a little deeper, and he risked the latter. He came around the table to the side where you stood.
“I’m glad we’re all spending time together,” he said. He took your hands in his. “I’d like to enjoy it with you, too, but I wouldn't be happy if you were unhappy.”
“I’m not unhappy,” you lied.
“Baby,” he chided tenderly. “You’ve been out of sorts for a little bit now, and I want to help you get back into sorts. I just don’t know how.”
You looked up at him. “Are you sure you’re happy with... all this?”
He raised a brow. “Dinner? Or, like, the universe as a whole?”
You sighed. “No, I mean... do you like being home? Maybe it’s a little lackluster after touring.”
“That could not be farther from the truth,” he said, without a moment’s hesitation. Was that all that was bothering you? 
“Silly girl,” he said with a smile. “Of course I like being home. I love being home.”
“But it’s... it’s just... me,” you said lamely. “Just our house.”
“I’m still not seeing a problem,” he said, affectionately teasing. “I love you, and I love our house, especially when it has all the people we love in it drinking all our wine.”
You didn’t say anything for a moment. Then — “Are you sure?”
For a moment, he couldn’t think of anything to say. He felt a surprisingly sharp flash of hurt at your doubt. He tamped it down to focus on you, his sweet wife, who apparently felt that his homecoming had been spent wishing he was back out on the road.
“Yes, I’m sure,” he finally said. He cupped your face in his hands, reading something sad and needful in your expression but unable to figure out how to fix it. “I love being home with you, baby. I miss you so much when I’m away. You don’t know that?”
He saw your eyes sparkle with tears and wished desperately he could understand how it had gotten this bad, wished he could figure out how to fix it.
“Hey,” he said softly. He kissed you. “I love you. I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
“But it’s not — ”
“It’s perfect,” he said, gently cutting across your protest. “And though I love the way you open our home to our family, even just being with you, eating takeout in our pajamas, would have been perfect too.”
You gave him a watery smile at that, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“There’s that smile,” he said tenderly. He brushed the tears from your face. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t enough, baby. You're everything to me. You’re my heart. You know that, don’t you?”
You nodded and kissed him, and he was so happy to have helped even a little. He’d probably ask about it again, try to understand what had made you think such a thing so that you'd never have to think it again. For now, though, your family was waiting, and you seemed eager now to get back to them.
“Don't tell them I was crying,” you said, running your hands over your cheeks, trying to hide the telltale signs. “Tell them we were having a quickie or something.”
He chuckled. “I'm not sure I’m skilled enough for that to be believable, baby. Less than five minutes is a lot to ask.” He kissed your cheek. “And I won’t tell them you were crying. That’s between you and me.” To his way of thinking, a husband's job was to protect his wife at her most vulnerable, not to expose her. These moments between you, the words and soft touches and intimacy you shared — those were just for the two of you, and Josh treasured the privilege of being the one you shared yourself with when you needed a little extra love.
You took his hand, and when he was sure you were ready, he led you back out to where your family waited. 
He saw you return to your usual self as the night went on, and he loved to hear your laugh and watch your smile light up your face as you spent time with your family. Sam, Danny, Jake, and Sparrow — they never failed to bring warmth and light with them wherever they went, and Josh knew that there was no better medicine than their terrible jokes and affectionate bickering and safe, easy love. You were always beautiful, but joy made you ravishing; you shone as brightly as the sun when you were happy, and he felt a weight come off his shoulders as you came back to yourself.
After dinner, you found a spot on the couch; as Josh went to fix glasses of wine for both of you, he watched the drama unfolding in the living room. Catty corner to you, Sam and Jake were playing guitar, Sam casually and Jake with characteristic seriousness; Sparrow sat perched on the arm of Sam’s chair, and Danny sat on the floor.
“Watch him,” Danny said, slipping a hair tie from his wrist and aiming it like a slingshot at Jake. “I bet he won’t stop playing.”
“No, Danny!” Sparrow giggled around the straw stuck in her wine glass. “That would be so mean to my poor Jakey.”
“He wont’ even notice,” Danny said, unable to hide an impish smile. “Watch.”
He shot the hair tie at Jake, and it popped him on the forehead before tumbling down the guitar and landing on the floor. Jake didn’t miss a beat.
Danny and Sparrow dissolved in uproarious laughter, and Jake merely rolled his eyes with a telltale smile.
“You’re all idiots,” he said.
“Not me!” Sam protested. He watched Jake’s fingers, invested in learning the tune now. “I’m trying to play with you, but geez, can you dial it down from rock god so I can figure it out?”
Jake slowed his playing, talking Sam through the notes, and good-naturedly accepted a kiss on his forehead from Sparrow. Danny tried to find the hair tie again and hit Sam with it when he did, earning himself a nudge with Sam’s foot that made Danny laugh and lean his head against Sam’s knee in apology.
Josh brought your drinks over to the couch and handed yours to you. “For you, baby.”
You accepted it gratefully and patted the spot next to you. “Thanks, honey. Come sit with me.”
He did, draping one arm over the back of the couch behind you, pleased when you scooched closer to him. He gave you a sweet, chaste kiss.
“Feeling better, baby?” he asked gently.
You couldn’t help a dull blush, but you gave him a bashful smile. “Yes. I’m sorry I was so... tearful earlier.”
“That’s alright, honey. Would you mind telling me what it was that got you so upset?”
You ran the pad of your thumb over the bottom of your wineglass. He was patient as he waited for you to gather your thoughts.
“It’s silly,” you said finally. “You’ll either laugh or be annoyed that I made such a big deal about it.”
He considered that. You usually took things in your stride, and neither of you made a habit of being offended or upset over trivial, accidental things. Whatever it was, it had hurt you, and he would validate that feeling no matter what it turned out to be.
“I promise I won’t laugh,” he said. “And I don't think I’ll be annoyed.” He really just wanted to know what it was, and he told you so.
Your nervous, wandering fingers found his, and he was content to let you play with his wedding ring. You brushed your thumb over the shiny gold surface.
“It was your caption,” you said. “You know, for those pictures you posted.”
He was bemused for a moment. “Oh. Really?”
“Yeah,” you admitted quietly. “There’s no greater feeling in the world than returning to the stage. It is my ethereal living room. A place where things feel lighter than air. I love you.”
If anyone had asked him to recite from memory the caption he’d written himself, he couldn't have done it. The fact that you knew it word for word told him you must have been saying it over and over again in your head since you’d read it.
He thought of the wording in light of your feelings and saw how it could have hurt you. It had been their first show back after a long break spent at home, and while you were in your plain old living room at home and missing him, he’d apparently been away in a much better living room doing much more exciting and wonderful things without you. Of course he hadn’t really been comparing a concert to the home he shared with you — it was only an Instagram caption, after all, and not a serious commentary on his life. But even though he felt it was reasonable for you to have known that, he also knew that sometimes the heart wasn’t reasonable.
He twined his fingers with yours. “Sweet baby,” he said. “I’m sorry it hurt you. It wasn’t my intention at all. I don’t know if it helps, but I wasn’t thinking about our real life living room when I wrote that. I just thought it sounded clever.”
“I know,” you said. You gave him a wobbly smile. “It was clever. It’s sweet. And the fans deserve a little love note from you. I just...”
“You just missed me,” he said, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. “I know, baby. I missed you too.”
“I’m sorry,” you said. “I’m sorry I made such a big deal out of it. I could have just been honest that I was upset. But really, I should have just taken it like you meant it and not started catastrophizing, thinking you weren’t happy at home.”
“Well, sometimes our imaginations run away with us,” he said, patient and kind. “For the record, I am happy at home with you, baby. You in your old sundress making regular blackberry cobbler is the kind of thing I dream about when I'm away from you. And if I could only have one, I’d pick our less-than-ethereal living room and be glad to share it with you for as long as I lived.”
You touched his cheek. “Why are you so sweet to me?”
“Because I love you very much,” he said simply. He kissed you. “Tell me you know that.”
“I know that,” you said softly, tenderly. “Of course I know that. I love you very much too.”
He kissed you again, taking his time, drawing you closer to him. You tasted like sweet wine and sounded so pretty when your breath caught, your fingers brushing through his curls, your heartbeat light and fast under his hands, almost ethereal.
From the other side of the living room, there was a vague commotion and contagious laughter from Sparrow and his brothers. 
“Should we check on them?” you asked, your voice muffled and smiley as you kissed him.
He chuckled. “They’re fine. Hush and let me kiss you.”
You did, and when you threw your arms around his neck to pull him even closer, he decided you weren’t ethereal after all. The two of you together, surrounded by the ones you loved, laughter and joy and music filling your home — it was something better than ethereal, something earthy and imperfect and steady. For all he loved his work, this right here was exactly what he wanted.
“I love you, Mrs. Kiszka,” he said gently.
You smiled and set everything right in his world. “I love you too, Joshy.”
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@wideminded-dreamer and @spark-my-nature were particularly excited for this one so hey here you go <3
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lillybearrie · 2 days
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Guys- guys! I need to talk about this because omfg arararara
Ok so I was watching sherb's most recent hardcore stream, or more accurately got not even a minute in and ran to Tumblr because I have thoughts, and maybe it's because I just binged Icarus's pov post-centross death but the first like 30 seconds or so of the hardcore stream made me realize the difference between someone like hardcore!Sherbert and Icarus.
Icarus is in a deep state of self loathing and needing to grief so so many things so many people they need to process so so much but their own father has convinced them that it's pointless that it's not worth it that they should just focus on other things like helping him in his endeavors and so they don't and instead they bear the weight of this feeling of guilt and dread that they carry it around all day every day and they use it like armor because they don't have much else anymore. They pour all of the doubt they used to have into blind faith in fable's cause because they will not process and they will not grief over the fact that in only the past 4 months they have either indirectly or directly been at fault for 2 of their friends deaths and that their very existence prompted the destruction of so many peoples lives fable caused the resets for them to save their life fable destroyed reality over and over and over until the universe was delt what is likely irreparable damage all for them and honesty we really don't talk enough about the guilt they must carry for that. Icarus wakes up and even if it's been a few weeks is immediately so so tired the weight of everything going on in their life waking up with them waking up with the voices that constantly tell them what they already know the voices the yell and scream that their wrong that their hurting people again that their acting corrupted The voices that never shut up day in and day out. And they stretch because sometimes keeping a routine in times like this is key to keeping sane and yk stretching is just generally a good habit. Their alone except for the emotionally distant basterd of a previously immortal man that dares call himself a father ( we're not gonna talk about how the stuff he instilled in ick when they were little influenced a large part of how the corruption presented itself in them during season 1 because this is not that post but if it was I would have so many words you don't even know) life right now is one big distraction and when it's not they either have a break down or they're chasing the next distraction and you can see that when they wake up because you get 2 kinds of Icarus in the morning angry Icarus who will take it out on quixis or us because they need that emotional release and we're easy targets or planning Icarus who is only thinking about what they need to do today they do mindless chores or talk with co-workers or are figuring out how to complete task fable asks of them.
Hardcore!Sherbert on the other hand is for better or worse alone completely and utterly aside from the things their's not a single actual person in their life. they farm they build they vibe and weird shit happens around them sometimes and they hear voices, they wake up and look forward to the next day even when they've been asleep for months they look in the bright side "not a bad thing tho it's important to get your sleep" they are so... free in comparison with Icarus and you can hear it in the way they talk its lighter you can see it in they way they move it made me realize how little Icarus actually truly smiles nowadays hardcore!sherbert has their fair share of struggles don't get me wrong but at they end of the day they're happy they enjoy life for the most part.
And Sherb does such a good Job acting out this fundamental difference between these two variations of the same guy. I go ababababa it think it's neattt anyway go appreciate Sherbertquake56's phenomenal acting after this long ass post psychoanalizing they way their minecraft characters wake up which is a total sane and normal thing to make a Tumblr post about at 4 am mhm
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trivialbob · 2 days
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Sheila and I brought our Crokinole game board and none of our dogs to the brewery this evening. There were a ton of kids and many other dogs there. All were well-behaved. Even Sheila.
We also came bearing pizza. There's a new place in town we really like and picked some up on the way. Our usual order is hand tossed crust, pepperoni, and green olives.
Sheila has become a Crokinole ambassador. People see us playing the game and have questions. Sheila has answers. The guy who made our board should have included business cards for Sheila to hand out. The next time this brewery has a Crokinole tournament Sheila could be the director.
We had a good time. Actually, a REALLY good time, because I won most of the games.
Near the end of the evening a woman asked us if we wanted any pizza. She had leftovers from her group. Stupidly, I said I'd take "one slice," thinking this lady must enjoy going around the brewery offering pizza to others. She looked me in the eyes and said, "How about you take ALL the slices?"
Damn! I did want ALL the slices. Her pizza had green peppers and onions (I like!) and smelled nice, even cold. You guys, I can't wait to eat leftover pizza for breakfast, lunch and dinner tomorrow.
I didn't drink much at the brewery. Oh Bob, because you were driving and want to be safe? Uh, sure, yeah. But also, I'm really on top of my Crokinole game and don't need beer goggles making me lose points.
Now we're back at home. Our dogs know we've been petting other dogs and are suspicious. They smell the leftover pizza too and figure they'll get some crusts, so they pretend to not be offended.
I'm having a Happy Dad banana flavored seltzer at home. Someone at the store the other day said they're popular. Eh, perhaps. Sheila's not a fan and I'm at the point where I just don't want to waste them.
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tulipsforvin · 2 days
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Hiii, how are you? I love your writing sm, especially your Mycroft fics. I didn’t even like his character that much until I read your fanfics about him ^^
So can I request a jealous Mycroft Holmes x trophy wife reader? Something similar to your last post or maybe a continuation?
Thanks sm <3
✦ YOU BELONG TO ME ‧₊˚✩彡
🌷: HII im good :) thnx sm for the kind words !! have a nice day/night
🌷: F!TROPHY WIFE READER x JEALOUS MYCROFT HOLMES
⚠️: such a cliché 🙏, somewhat suggestive at the end.
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surely this was to be expected; you were in no way lacking. the attention your beauty and elegance brought with you was only one of the many implications that came with marrying you. he could handle it, couldn't he? surely he could. you were his trophy wife, an accessory to be shown at the best.
but that position didn't quite please you. no no, you wanted more. you wanted all of him, him and his affections, every bit of his attention. you wanted to be more than just a mere prize to him. which is why..
“right! and then he said—” music & loud voices dipped in cheery laughter blur into the background.
watching yet another group of men group you crowd you for the umpteenth time this night—something began to rise within him. anger, frustration, disgust.. he wasn't sure what it exactly was. perhaps a mixture of them all. all he knew was that it made his stomach feel hollow, his chest burn with something foreign and bile crawl up to his throat.
you high five a nobleman. that noble looks too happy over mere skin contact. the muscle under his eye twitches slightly. ‘really?’ he wishes to say out loud. he's the one who brought you here. you're his wife.
“..mr. holmes.”
“mr. holmes.”
“mr. mycroft holmes.”
mycroft snaps out of his thoughts. “ah.” he blinks. his dark eyes smoothly shift back to the man infront of him. “apologies, secretary general. please continue.”
“...” the secretary general scans mycroft's face for any expression hinting to why he seems so out of it tonight. mycroft is too clever not to notice so he arches an eyebrow and the secretary general clears his throat. “ahem. as i was saying, if we are to implement better rules and regulations then..”
the secretary general's voice fades into the background for the second time this night. mere background noise to mycroft holmes—the man known to be devoted to his work. well.. not tonight though. there was something else bothering him.
“you're so beautiful, miss. (name)!” the man infront of you chirps, a patch of hair on his chin for a beard.
his beard doesn't even connect, mycroft scoffs under his breath, thinking to himself. if you can even call it a beard—it's just barely visible stubble. barely there.
“oh thank you!” your hand pats his forearm lightly.
what on earth are you doing? he wishes he could say.
he glances back at the babbling man infront of him; not a stop to his endless tirade of words. he sighs.
“mr. holmes, are you okay?” the secretary general says, tilting his head to the side by the slightest.
“i am.” mycroft replies curtly, not even looking at him. his attention is somewhere else entirely. on you, to be exact. and that rat looking bastard besides you.
“i should be the one thanking you for attending. otherwise i wouldn't have been able to meet you.” the nobleman's gaze falls to your neck where a beautiful pearl necklace rests. “such a gorgeous necklace, i must say.” he uses it as an excuse to caress your neck with the back of his fingers.
mycroft's face darkens visibly, a vein protruding on his jaw as he clenches it. his eyebrows furrow, forming a small line in the space between.
that's enough. he thinks. he doesn't like that. no, not at all. why aren't you saying anything to that bastard?
instead of pushing the nobleman away, it felt like you were encouraging his actions, letting him do as he pleases with you—and that really irritated mycroft.
a server carrying several glasses of sparkling wine walks to each group of people, asking them if they would like some. when the server comes to you, the nobleman alongside you picks up two glasses.
the man is cheerful as he speaks to you, obviously feeling quite joyous at the chance of being able to talk to someone as beautiful as you. “here, miss. a glass of champagne each for you and for me.”
“thank y—”
in mere seconds mycroft has excused himself and began striding to you, footsteps large and distanced.
“thank you.” a man's hands, large and veiny slithers into the space between you and the nobleman. and when they pull back, they retrieve the two glasses of sparkling wine from the nobleman.
your neck snaps around to the deep, familiar voice behind you. you look up to see a tall and looming mycroft, annoyance plastered across his face, hand you one glass and keep the other to himself.
“mycroft!” you smile up at him, eyes glittering. you take the glass of champagne from him and sip at it.
“o-oh,” the nobleman falters, stepping back instinctively. “good.. good evening, mr. holmes.”
“evening.” mycroft's voice is low and rumbly. an arm travels to your hips and he pulls you in close to him.
“fine banquet, isn't it? i quite like the atmosphe—”
“yes, yes.” mycroft hums dismissively. “pardon me, but me and my wife have somewhere to be.”
that's all he says before he's practically dragging you away, a firm hand still grasping onto your waist—not even letting either of you bid farewell to each other.
“we do?” you peek up at him as you're walking away.
“yes.” his voice is quiet. tight. firm. growly. everything sexy. “i feel as if a little disciplining might be in order.”
you gulp thickly at his words as he leads you to the bathroom. but this was what you wanted, after all.
you can't help the small and subtle smirk that appears on your painted lips. “ofcourse.. darling.”
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magpiepills · 2 days
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Got It Wrong
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Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI
Pairing: Joel Miller x you x Tess
Word count: 3.9k
Summary: you meet two kind strangers when you get to the Boston QZ.
Warnings: SMUT! Alcohol, oral m and f receiving, PIV, fingering, FFM, mention of pant violence/murder, dub con due to alcohol, uncertain reader, reader is in her 20s, no physical description, probably more.
A word from the author: This is a repost! This was my second fic ever and I intended for there to be a second part. It’s mostly finished and just chilling in my docs because it got kinda dark and I wasn’t really sure what to do with it. I may still finish it one day. Y’all can tell me what you think.
The Boston QZ is a hellscape. You’ve always put on a brave face, stoic and bold in the face of everything that has fallen down around you. It’s been a lot, but your resolve has been firm. If you let yourself break even a little, you knew you wouldn’t make it. You had to stay alert here. Maybe the infected weren’t a threat inside the high fences and barbed wire that surrounded the city, but danger remained. People here are desperate and desperate people don’t show any mercy. You didn’t blame them, necessarily, that’s just the way of the world now.
For a long time, living with your family way out in the woods upstate had been something close to normalcy. You had a cabin and a garden and a creek. You had your dad, your sister, a woman your mom had worked with before the outbreak. You had a routine. You let yourself imagine the future here. You were happy.
You were in the woods foraging, filling a basket with mushrooms, berries, and edible leaves. Lost in the plans for a salad at dinner that night, you didn’t see the raiders slipping up to the house. You didn’t see them take away everything in an instant. You only heard a scream and shouting from voices you didn’t recognize. You froze, unable to run to the cabin to try to fend off the raiders. They’d have just killed you, too. You don’t know how long they were there, taking all they could carry before creeping back the same way they’d came. You couldn’t make yourself go back to the cabin. You didn’t want to see what they’d done to your family. You stayed in the woods all night, awake and crying and rocking yourself.
Now you were left alone in the world and with no choice but to go to the Boston QZ. You made your way there carefully, slowly, quietly. You raised your hands and let them test you, spending two full days in isolation before being spoken to like a human.
You had almost everything that you had stolen the first night in the shelter, and you had seen the leering eyes of the men you’d passed on the street, you heard fighting and crying, saw faces come and go. The labor was back breaking and soul-crushing. You’d have given anything for a moment of relief from the constant misery and fear.
After a few weeks in the shelter without serious incident, you let your guard down a little. There was a routine here, something you could focus on and ignore everything else. You’d found an abandoned paperback and read it in your spare time. You read and re-read it three times now, taking comfort in knowing what would happen at the end.
On Saturdays tables were set up in the dining room, and you could get some basic supplies. Some kind of charity, you’d guessed. You approached the table where bags of soap and deodorant and tampons were being distributed and were pleased to see a woman with a kind face and a warm smile standing before you. She was pretty, with long, sandy red hair, streaked with grey, pulled away from her face. She was maybe in her mid forties, roughly twice your age. Her name tag read “Tess.”
“How long have you been here, sweetheart?” She spoke to you in such a warm way, you dropped your guard a little further. Tess had an endearing way of asking about your health, asking if you had what you needed, giving you tips for getting placed in FEDRA housing, always asking how things were progressing. Tess was there every week, and you looked forward to seeing her. This week, as she was packing up to go, she asked you for a hand getting the boxes and card table back to her apartment. “It’s not far, and I’d owe you big time.” After how kind she’s been to you, you were happy to oblige.
The walk was short, about 5 blocks, down an alley and up two flights of stairs to a dimly lit but cozy apartment.
“I think we earned a drink!” Tess shot you a grin and held up a bottle of amber liquid.
You sat at her kitchen table while she poured the liquid into pretty etched glasses and reveled in what felt like friendship for the first time in ages. Maybe the QZ would be ok. Maybe you’d have your own little apartment and couch and pretty glasses to drink from before long.
The alcohol was making your head swim just a little and your little daydream didn’t let you hear as the door opened and closed again. You didn’t notice the man standing behind you, leaning on the doorway and looking at Tess with unspoken words on his lips. When you finally noticed Tess looking over your shoulder, eyebrow raised ever so slightly.
You turned slowly, and smiled at the man. He was tall and must have been about Tess’s age. He was good looking, tall and broad and strong, with salt and pepper hair and a scruffy beard. His eyes were dark and serious.
“Oh, hi! Sorry, I’m probably in the way of your dinner, I should get going.” You felt suddenly that you were intruding. This must be Tess’s boyfriend or husband or something. Tess turned back to you, and put a hand on your shoulder as you started to stand.
“No! Please stay a while. Don’t pay Joel any mind.” She introduced him as her partner and didn’t specify if this was a business partner or an intimate one, and you didn’t ask. Tess looked at Joel again, smiling.
“Don’t leave on account of me, sugar. Maybe I’ll join you ladies. That alright?” He took the chair across from you at the small table, and Tess sat another glass on the table in front of Joel and poured his drink before refilling your glass. “Tess tells me you’re new to the QZ, staying over in the shelter. That’s a dangerous place for a young girl. ‘Specially one on her own.”
“It hasn’t been too bad so far” you spoke, pushing down the nerves that had started to stir in your belly. “I think it’s all starting to work out.” You smiled at Joel and then at Tess. “Tess has been a lot of help.”
Joel smiled back, and his knee bumped yours under the table. Your face and chest felt warm, either from the alcohol or from the way Joel hadn’t taken his eyes off you since he sat down. His gaze began to feel heavy, it made you feel like you should keep talking, even though he was silent now. You were grateful when you felt Tess’s hand back on your shoulder, heavier this time.
“Are you feeling ok, sweetheart? Drinks catching up with you?” She chuckled “Maybe you should take the couch for the night, I’m not sure we can take you back to the shelter like this.”
She was probably right. The alcohol had made you feel hot and floaty and disoriented. It had been a long time since you drank like this and on a mostly empty stomach. You probably shouldn’t have accepted that third drink, but it felt so good to just hang out with a friend.
“I don’t want to be a bother…”
“No bother, sugar.” Joel spoke. “Sleep on the couch and Tess can walk you back in the morning. I’m sure she’ll get you to help her carry supplies while she’s at it. This is a win for her.” Joel sounded reasonable and his confidence was disarming you.
“Might as well have another drink since you’re staying!” Tess chirped as she topped up all of your glasses. You smiled into your glass and never noticed the look that passed between Joel and Tess.
Joel picked up the three glasses and moved them to the coffee table in front of the shabby couch so you could all sit more comfortably. You didn’t even remember walking to the living room. You were all talking, laughing, smiling. You head was spinning, but you liked feeling so relaxed.
The next thing you remember is feeling Tess sliding closer to you on the couch and putting her hand on your thigh while she leaned in to place a light kiss at the corner of your mouth. Her lips were soft and warm, and you didn’t want her to stop. You felt another hand on your thigh and looked down to see Joel’s wide, paddle-like hand gripping you. Your eyes followed his arm up to his neck and his jaw and his lips. They were close to yours and in an instant they were pressed to yours. His kiss was harder than Tess’s. More insistent.
You felt uneasy again, but once more pushed your feelings aside, deciding to just go with it. You’ve got new friends now and they like to drink and kiss. Maybe that’s how it is in the QZ; maybe you liked drinking and kissing too. You kissed him back and felt him hum approvingly.
Tess was still beside you. “You know, Joel can help you. He helped me out when I came to the QZ.” She spoke softly into your ear, and moved her hand from your thigh to the buttons of your shirt, her other hand wrapping around you to meet it and she nimbly undid a button, playing with the fabric of your shirt and running her fingertips lightly over your newly exposed skin before moving to the next button. Her mouth went to your neck as she worked, kissing your soft skin.
You swallowed thickly and your chest heaved. Is this really happening? Joel leaned back and watched Tess making quick work of your clothes, and when he spoke his voice sounded lower and slower.
“I know it’s hard around here for pretty young girls. Know it’s not safe. Maybe y’need someone to look out for you.” Had you noticed his accent before? It was southern and you found it really alluring, the way some of his words melted together. “It’s good to stick t’gether in a place like this. Have somebody on your side.”
You couldn’t form words. Tess had made her way to your bra and was running her fingers under the band, your nipples hardening at her touch. Joel’s eyes were trained on your tits, and his hand gripped your thigh higher, his thumb pushing between your thighs, dangerously close to your now soaked and throbbing pussy. He kissed you again, tilting his chin to meet your lips and kissing deeply. Your lips parted and you felt his tongue in your mouth.
Your heart was pounding. You licked at his tongue gently, and he swallowed your soft moans. Tess had one hand on your stomach and one hand cupping your breast now. She whispered sweetly, “Why don’t you bring your stuff back here tomorrow? You can help us and we can help you.”
It sounded perfectly reasonable. You nodded, eyes closed, leaning your head back to kiss her again, letting your lips linger, soaking up her sweetness before tipping back into Joel’s kiss. His hands were on your hips, squeezing gently, and Tess was popping the button on your jeans, easing the zipper down.
You wished you could reach her to return her touches in kind, but Joel had a firm grip on you now, so you just unbuttoned his shirt, hoping it was ok with Tess, you still weren’t clear on what kind of partnership they had and you didn’t want to misstep.
“He’s handsome, isn’t he?” She whispered. “I think he likes you.” That sounded like permission.
Joel’s thumbs hooked under your waistband and tugged your jeans down, pushing you back into Tess’s chest as he slid them down your thighs, pulling your panties with them.
He sat back on the couch, palming his stiffening cock, and marveling at the sight before him. “Look at our girl, Tess. Real pretty.”
Tess hummed in agreement and squeezed your tits together, her own naked chest pressing into your back.
You’d never had a threesome, but this was the hottest thing you’d ever done. You loved feeling like their play thing. Whatever was between them, you didn’t care. You had never been so turned on.
“You feel good, sugar? Gonna let me touch you the way you need?” “
“Yes, Joel, want to feel you.”
He chuckled and groaned at your enthusiasm. “Lean back, baby.”
You were laying on the couch between them now, your head in Tess’s naked lap, one hand holding hers, the other running through Joel’s thick wavy hair as he pressed his tongue against your wet seam.
Tess’s hand moved between your tits, massaging gently and running her thumb over your peaks. She lowered her mouth to yours, kissing you softly and slowly, your tongues mingling, your senses overwhelmed at their combined touches. Joel was working away at your wet cunt, alternating between long slow licks and quick firm flicks of his tongue over your swollen clit. The sounds of sucking, smacking, and soft wet sounds filled the air, it was pornographic and you wished you could see what you all must look like.
You were already panting when Joel pushed a thick callused finger into your willing entrance, and the sudden fullness forcing a low moan from deep in your throat.
You felt that lovely tightening in your belly, sending sparks down your hips, and building to a crescendo. Just as you approached the edge, your vision becoming dark around the corners, he slipped a second finger in, pulling you tight and working them in deeply, and sucked hard on your bundle of nerves.
You were a goner. You bucked and gasped, your head falling back into Tess’s lap.
“Good girl, baby. Good fuckin’ girl.” Joel slid his fingers out but gently brushed his slick fingers over your swollen lips, making you suck them clean as you rode out your orgasm. “You picked a good one this time, Tess. Let’s see if she can handle a cock now.”
He was so lewd! You’d blush if you weren’t still spinning out from your climax.
Tess slid off the couch and sat beside it, scooting down so that her head was near your hips.
“I knew you’d love her, Joel. She’s gorgeous. Just your type, and so sweet.”
Joel paused to smile at Tess, and leaned down to kiss her. It was a tender kiss, the first time you saw them touching each other, you realized. It made you feel a little awkward to be laying on the couch totally nude next to them. It was over as quickly as it began, though and Joel turned his attention back to you. He leaned down on one elbow to support his weight while the other hand cradled your jaw as he kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his lips and tongue.
He groaned and let his hips drop against your core, and you let your knees fall open to accommodate him. He was still dressed, you never got further than unbottoning a few buttons of his denim shirt. You could feel his length pressing against your core, you slipped your hand down to palm him.
He felt big. Big, big. Too big, you worried. He must have sensed your hesitation.
“Want to see it, baby? See if you think you can handle my big cock?”
Tess was behind him now and wrapped her arms around his waist to unbuckle his belt and release him from his jeans.
“You’re in for a treat, sweetheart. Joel knows what he’s doing. Might be sore tomorrow though.” She smiled at the last part and reached down to grip his cock. Joel turned to kiss her once more, then she returned to her spot beside the couch.
Joel planted open mouthed kisses along your chin and neck, trailed down your chest, his movements unhurried, like he was just taking you in. Your skin cooled under each kiss when he moved to the next and underscored your arousal. He made his way to your breasts and sucked your nipple into his mouth as he squeezed and pressed the other, he sucked firmly, and nibbled down the side of your breast before turning the same attention to the next. Joel drove you mad with desire, you lifted your hips, wanting to feel his turgid member against your aching pussy.
“You can’t wait to get fucked, can you baby girl? You gonna beg for it, sweet thing?”
“Please, Joel!”
“Please what, baby?”
You groaned into his shoulder. “Please, Joel. Fuck me please. I need to feel your cock. Want it so bad, Joel.”
You were breathless and wanton, Joel hummed approvingly.
“You sure ask nicely. I just might give it to you.”
You whimpered and drove your hips up again, this time you felt his hot, thick length slide over your folds. You could come just from that alone, but you were desperate to feel full of him. You couldn’t stay quiet and Joel seemed to feed off of your noise. Moaning, panting, crying out his name, it drove him wild. He loved hearing what he did to you, loved that he had the power to turn you into a needy mess.
He reached down to slap his cock against your seeping and sensitive folds, paying special attention to your clit, making you cry out once more.
When he couldn’t wait any longer, he pressed the smooth, thick head to your entrance.
“Fuck yourself on my cock, sugar. Go ahead. You want it, you take it.”
Tess giggled at that. She had been quiet, watching and lazily rubbing her own naked sex, enjoying her front row seat to you and Joel’s erotic coupling. She slid her fingers down to gather the pooling slick, and spread it over her clit. She would make herself come when you did. You lifted your hips and tried in vain to push him inside you. You couldn’t get enough leverage, you were just driving yourself crazy, he was right there but you couldn’t get him inside, no matter how your wiggled. You broke.
“Please, Joel!” You were desperate now, out of your head.
Joel kissed your neck once more. “Alright, baby. But remember, I warned you.”
He pushed slowly and firmly, working the head just past your entrance and you were frozen beneath him. The sting of him stretching you was unlike anything you’d ever felt before, and you knew you couldn’t take him all.
Joel was still, knowing you’d need time to get accustomed to his size. When he felt you move against him again, he continued, pushing further now, and backing out just slightly before going deeper. Two steps forward, one step back.
“So goddamn tight, sugar. Ain’t you ever been fucked by a big cock before?”
You couldn’t answer, but the work “gigantic” came to mind, along with memories of your first boyfriend, who came in his pants before you could have sex, and the guy after him who had fucked you, but who was so interested in his own joy that he never made you cum.
You felt far away from everything that was happening. Eyes closed, mouth open, eyebrows furrowed, the only thing in the universe now was you and Joel. Everything else fell away and was swallowed by darkness.
You snapped back when you felt Tess reach between you and Joel, seeking your clit to rub gentle circles, distracting you from the stinging further down. Her touch was just what you needed. You relaxed your hips and felt them open a little, giving Joel more room to work. He quickened his pace, his own climax gathering in his belly, he was less gentle now and you were panting hard, no coherent words forming. With one more thrust, he was all the way seated, and you could feel him at your cervix.
He felt pride at how he had you so fucked out. He looked down at you, cheeks and chest flushed, sweat beading on your forehead, lips swollen and puffy. He swung his hips back and fucked into you again and again. You were close. Tess had turned her attention to your swollen, sensitive clit again, and was kissing the side of your face, your neck, your ear and whispering praise to you.
“You’re taking him so well, baby. Look how you take that cock. You’re so fucking beautiful like this. I want you to come for us, babe. Come while he’s got that huge cock buried deep in your pussy.”
Her words and her touch and his heavy strokes were too much. Your body jerked, and your orgasm took control. Your legs locked around him and kept him inside you. When the crashing wave subsided, Joel resumed his thrusts, faster now, getting sloppy and out of rhythm. He was close.
“Where you want me sugar? Don’t say inside.”
You answered him with a moan and he pulled out fast, rubbing out his orgasm against your hip with a deep, throaty groan.
“You’re perfect, baby girl. Absolutely perfect.”
Joel and Tess leaned close and you shared kisses before Tess disappeared and returned quickly with a wet towel for each of you and a few glasses of water. Joel cleaned himself, then you. His touch was gentle and caring. You sipped your water in a daze, unsure what to do or say. You’d just fucked Tess’s boyfriend or husband or something with her blessing, and you’re not sure what to do now.
You excused yourself to the bathroom and grabbed your shirt and panties. Neither of them were getting dressed, so you just slipped on your shirt without buttoning it, and put your panties back on. You already felt your hips and inner thighs aching, and you were feeling sleepy. When you returned to the living room, Joel had taken up the middle seat on the couch, and Tess was tucked under his right arm, nuzzling his chest. You sat on his left, and he pulled you onto his chest as well. He was serene as you and Tess laced your fingers together.
You must have fallen asleep. When you woke up, you were still on the couch, a pillow under your head and a blanket tucked around you. Your head was pounding and you felt sticky, sore, and like you needed a shower.
The memory of the night before flooded back, and you felt something like embarrassment, but not quite. You didn’t regret it, at least what you remembered. You wondered if they’d meant what they said about helping them and them helping you. You wondered if that was just referring to the sex. It seemed like they meant something more, but you didn’t want to bring it up and make things weird. You weren’t even sure how you could help them, but you decided to think about that later.
You yawned and stretched and when Tess saw you moving, she brought you more water.
“Hey sweetie. You feel ok?” There she was. The kind Tess you knew. It was reassuring to hear her talk so sweetly to you. “Joel went out to find breakfast for us, then he’s going to go with you to the shelter to get the rest of your things. We talked it over and decided you should stay here. Until FEDRA finds you a place, you’d be safer and more comfortable with us.” How could you argue with that?
“Really, Tess. The shelter is fine. I’m sure it won’t be long and—“
“You’re not going to convince Joel of any of that, so you might as well just get your stuff and bring it here.”
You didn’t have a response.
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crunchchute · 1 month
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My Sam & Max cosplay I debuted at a local con during the weekend!
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angelltheninth · 7 months
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The Muzzle Problem
Pairing: Wriothesley x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, muzzle, breeding, possessive sex, creampie, mentioned marking, doggie style, feral!Wriothesley
Word count: 0.7k
A/N: Expanding on that post I made the other day cause got damn I want him in a muzzle so bad!
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He fucked you like he hated you, and maybe in this moment he did. Not because you did something wrong per se, not because he had a reason to hate you, his pretty girlfriend, but all because you wanted to see what would happen when you put a muzzle on him while he fucked you.
"Think you're safe from me when my mouth is caged up?" The cold bars of the muzzle pressed against your face when he attempted to nuzzle in closer to you, his frustration palpable in the loud smacking of his hips into yours. "Think again, there's many way that I can mark you as mine." Your pussy tightened around his cock, legs feeling weak and suddenly you found yourself grateful that you had the bed to fall back onto.
You reached behind you and felt the cold cage of the muzzle, "You know you can't leave marks on me. What if someone saw? They'd know... ah... about us... and..." Wriothesley tightened his hold on your hips and pressed your hips fully against the bed, clit grinding against the pillow under you while he fucked you hard, fast, possessive, almost feral. "Wrio! Careful! Your hands!"
"My hands, my cum, my cock, yes all of them, I can mark you with all of them. I don't really have to though, do I? Because at the end of the day you already know that you're mine." Behind closed doors you were his, but to everyone else you were his right hand woman, to be respected and feared as such too. In both cases though you were his and he was yours, secretly ready whenever you called for him.
Unlike you Wriothesley didn't have any problem teasing you during work hours, which lead to situations like these, getting fucked on his bed right after the shift ended, a puddle between your legs and a pulsing ache that grew every time his cock sunk back into your wet...
"My pussy, it's all mine, and you know what? I think this pussy could use some of my cum in it. It's been so good for me lately, so good for me. You've been amazing, I don't know what I'd..." He groaned as you hooked your fingers on the muzzle and pulled him forward, causing his cock to sink in balls deep into your drooling cunt.
"There, yes, fuck... fuck me there..." Again you tugged on his muzzle and felt the full weight of him on top of you, doing everything you could to keep your ass smacking loudly against his, "Fuck me however you want, just don't leave any marks where people can see." Those were some very dangerous terms you just agreed to.
You could feel yourself dripping with arousal as he began going faster, fucking you like he wanted to see you break on his cock. And maybe he did, as punishment for denying him the pleasure of biting and kissing you. "Breed you, I'm gonna breed you, get my cum in your wet little cunt. Let's see who owns your pussy then huh? When you're dripping, when your womb is flooded with my cum. Say it, say it, say it!" Your hips met his one final time before your mind went blank with pleasure, warmth spreading both inside and out, your orgasm making your stiff against his rock hard body.
Hot cum rushed into your spasming walls, your abused, sensitive pussy taking all of it before he collapsed next to you.
A few minutes passed in silence, the only sounds being each other's breath, slowly getting back to normal. You turned to your side, trying not to squirm as Wriothesley's cum dripped down your thighs. He looked happy, hair very messy and eyes a little hazy still but happy. When you reached behind him and undid the clasp of his muzzle he let out a long sigh before opening his mouth wide, flexing the soreness out of his poor jaw.
"Sorry." You snuggled up to his chest and kissed him on the chin, "But it's not my fault you can't keep your mouth to yourself."
"Yes it is. You're too cute for your own good." Wriothesley pressed a long kiss against your forehead, another content sigh leaving his lips. He was finally able to do what he wanted to do all day, kiss you as much as he wanted.
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bunnys-kisses · 12 days
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the jailbird
prisoner!simon 'ghost' riley
a full fic based on this post
cw: prison!au, civilian!reader, pen-pals, smut,romance/romantic!simon, domestic, missonary, wife kink, size kink, nudity, tattoo kink, body worship, cuddling
bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own! reblogs are always welcomed!
it started out as a flyer at the bus stop near your house. it was for a service that connected prisoners at a nearby prison with civilians as pen-pals. you had seen the flyer often over the course of work as you went to work.
you honestly felt bad, those people must be isolated. the organization prided itself on giving prisoners a bit of their humanity back by not cutting them off from those on the outside. so on a rainy friday you took a photo of the flyer and filled out the form on the organization's website.
that was how you met simon riley, or as he was called on the inside 'ghost'. what caught your attention wasn't his face scar that ran from under his nose down to the left side of his chin, but rather his brown eyes. how intense they stared into the camera. it was almost intimidating.
but you kept the photo on your desk as you typed out your first letter to send to him. you heard of places who did it through email, but screen time for those could often be limited and to send a physical letter would ensure that it would be sent to them.
the letter started out simple, you asked how he was and if it was okay to ask what he was in prison for. you asked him other questions, like if his health was doing well, what did he do most days while on the inside. you ended the letter with a little information about yourself.
you thought it would be nice to take a few photos and print them out on photo paper to be included with your letter. just so he had a better idea of who he was talking about. once you tweaked the letter with a bit of editing, you printed it out and thanks to the Royal Mail, your letter was sent to him.
you didn't actually expect for him to respond. nor did you expect for the letter to be do detailed. it was almost three pages double sided in neat hand writing. your eyes went wide when you saw the thickness of the envelope with the stamp of approval from the prison for it to be sent to you.
simon sent you a bracelet made of string that had been braided together. he said you were the first person from the outside to reach out since he got locked up. that broke your heart. it only broke further the more you read.
he was a military man who was tossed aside once the ptsd got too intense. he had been between jobs, and it felt like everything was just too much for him. he got wrapped up in large scale theft, while it paid good, you could only rob so many banks before it all caught up. he had been in for three years now, he was thankful it wasn't a life sentence. not much was stolen, and there was minimal violence. he said that his stature alone intimidated enough people that he didn't need to be violent.
you re-read his letters and it wouldn't be until almost six months of speaking that you finally wore the bracelet. when he said, "i want to see you in it, since i can't buy you a ring." you sent a photo of you wearing it and since then you hadn't taken it off.
the letters were nice, you sent them at least twice a week. even though you two had never met face to face, and the only photos you had of him were mugshots, he knew all the gossip in your work place. he knew the names of all your friends, your favourite saturday night treat and how you took your coffee.
he told you he'd be happy to make you coffee every morning before you went to work. that comment made your cheeks burn.
he often called you his 'wife' to the other prisoners. he had your photos on the wall near his bunk. he even kept the pictures where you looked terrible after you tried to cut your bangs one night. he knew the exact location of where your favourite take out was. he said that he was writing down ideas of where to take you once he got out. "i gotta make the missus feel special."
he even made you a birthday card. his cellmate 'soap' even signed it. you knew all about the explosives expert mactavish. when you looked into his case on the news, your eyes went a little wide. this guy was.. something.
simon did admit that 'soap' had a bit of a crush on you. but he said that 'johnny' was harmless and probably just liked the photo of a woman in the cell.
"he hurt ya, there will be no cell that could keep me from killin' him. no god either."
simon remembered everything.
the way he spoke about you and to you in his letters were nothing but soft. while he had to put on a tough guy exterior, his letters were filled with gentle words. like when he wrote out that he loved you in big text on a spare piece of paper so you could tape it on your mirror to look at every morning.
"i want to be what you get ready to."
"i want to be with you when you wake up."
"i want to come home to you every night. please make me an honest man."
you knew he was a trained killer. he was in special forces before his brief stint as a criminal. he was trained to kill, but in the margins of your letters, his love shined through. despite it all, he was capable of love.
and he wanted to pour all that love into you, his (future) wife.
you two would go on to write letters every week, for almost two years. when you got the letter from him asking if he could put you down as a permanent address when he got out, you cried. of course!
it was a cold spring morning, the sky was misty as you stood outside the gates of the prison. your heart raced, you even arrived early in the hopes he'd be released sooner.
and then you saw him.
those eyes. hard and stern, until he caught sight of you. his shoulder visibly dropped and his pace quickened as he made his way towards you. before you could step forward to meet him, he had you in his arms. his strong arms, littered with tattoos, wrapped around you as he held you close to his strong chest.
you held onto him as the air left your chest from the force he held you. you clutched onto his shoulders and choked out a sob. you squeaked, "holy shit."
he pulled away from you, but still kept you in his arms. you swore you saw minimal mistiness in his eyes. he reached to cup your face. he said quietly, "soft... like i imagined."
you beamed up at him, "of course, si."
"your voice is so nice." he groaned as he then pulled you close once more and buried his nose in your hair. he inhaled the scent of your shampoo and relaxed, "i'm home."
you thought transitioning from being the only person in the flat, to having this hulking, strong man in your home as well, was going to be a bit hard. but that didn't matter when simon got you through the door. his hands were on you, he promised on the universe that he'd romance you tomorrow.
but tonight was just going to be the two of you.
you managed to get his hands off you in order to get your shoes off before you led him to your bedroom. he was close behind you, he had a hand on one of your hips. he wanted to be as close to you as he could, you two had spent enough time apart.
you couldn't even close the bedroom door before he was pulling at the waistband on your pants. his calloused, strong hands felt delicate on you. it was like he was going to break you and he had to be as delicate as possible.
"si."
"i know, darling." he said quietly as he started to undress you. with your help the both of you were soon nude in the afternoon light in your bedroom. you tried to cover your chest with your arms but he pulled your arms away and looked at you.
your eyes met and you got up on your tip-toes to kiss him gently on the lips. soon he picked you up like you weighed less than a bag of potatoes.
he placed you on the bed gently when you half expected him to toss you like a shot-put. he admired your body down on your soft covers and soon got onto the bed too.
you reached for him as he pulled you into a tight kiss. his lips were chapped and you could tease the fresh skin underneath. your nails raked at his strong back, that you knew was covered in tattoos.
you wrapped your legs around him and held him. from a moment he dropped to his side and you two held each other. you tucked his head under your chin as you laid together naked.
it wasn't even meant to be sexually stimulating, you both just wanted to feel one another. to hear your lover's heartbeat meant more to you than anything in that moment.
you kissed the top of his head, you felt his blond hair against your face as you soaked in his warmth. you could almost cry from how nice it felt to be so close to him.
after everything, you had your man.
he said in his low tone, "you feel so soft. after everything, i have you. you made every day in the can worth it." he sighed, "thank you." he kissed at your bare chest.
you replied, "i loved your letters, i have them still." you chuckled, "i didn't want to throw any of them away. it made me feel closer."
"well. i'm not goin' anywhere." he looked up at you and smiled, "you're home and i'm finally here." he pulled away and got him between your legs. he rested on his knees and carefully moved you to his liking. he sat there between your legs and waited for your command.
you looked at him and nodded, "yeah, si. you can go." then tightened your legs around your lover. you held your breath as he slowly pushed his cock into you. you didn't realize how big it was until he was fully inside of you.
"are you alright, love?"
"golden."
the two of you moved together. it took a little bit to get used to the size, but the pressure and speed of his movements made heat spread through your body. like two pieces of the same puzzle, you fit together perfect soon after. it was like you two were always meant to be.
you felt so loved by him, it was so sweet. this was your first time with him and you only had a few sexual experiences with others prior to him. but the entire time you knew each other you didn't sleep with others, you wanted to wait for your man.
"that's my good wife." he groaned as he held onto your hips, "i know, you wanted this for a long time. i bet you thought about me when i was locked up."
you blushed and replied, "i did, si. i thought about you all the time, i even had your picture in my office. i wanted this, i wanted to be with you!" you whined a little as his cock dragged against a sensitive spot.
he chuckled softly, "yeah. i thought about my missus when i was locked up. i used to jerk off to your letters, your photos. messed one of 'em up by gettin' my spunk all over it." he licked his lips, "but now i can see it every day in person."
you smiled when he rested his body against you and continued to thrust up into you. you felt the curl of pleasure of your gut get together which each of his heavy thrusts.
the kisses you shared were intimate and hot. the air of your bedroom was warmed as you made love on the bed you would share together. your soft noises together filled the air.
you clenched onto him, you dug your nails into his shoulders. they were so strong and broad that they were much bigger than your hands.
he kissed you one last time as he quickened his pace. the bed moved against your movements as you both climaxed at the same time. it was like a shock to the system, the heightened euphoria before your head felt full of cotton.
you let out a soft groan as your grip on his loosened and you relaxed into the bed. you felt yourself partially get crushed by your lover but he gave a few more earnest thrusts as he made sure that his cum shot to the back of your womb.
he pulled out and dropped beside you. he tucked some hair behind your ear and wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of his hand. your breathing was heavy, but you were both so happy. to share your first time together felt so special.
you nestled yourself into his arms and held his hand. you exhaled contently then said, "my husband."
he kissed the top of your head, he felt complete, "my missus."
part two
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nicoliine · 3 months
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About the times when Alastor touched you and when he expected you to do it back.
☆彡 How in the world does the radio demon, who doesn't really like physical contact, end up looking for any excuse to have his hands on you?
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 ☆ Reader is g/n; no pronouns or y/n are used.
☆ Warnings: not really. Does a mental breakdown count as a warning? Alastor is a warning itself yk.
☆ English isn't my first language, so if there's any mistake I sorry-
 
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You noticed that Alastor didn't like people's proximity when you first arrived at the hotel and he didn't even try to shake your hand. There, with your hand on the air, you stand waiting for his shake as you observe his ramblings about a whole different subject—not that you mind about all the weird souls that can be met in hell—watching him around the other hotel staff, you confirm it.
 
After a couple of days in the hotel and witnessing his power display, you made a mental note to not mess with him. That being said, you didn't really want to touch him.
You were a very touchy person, content to hug Pentious when you first saw him around in the morning or cuddle on the couch with Angel before he started to make a lewd comment about his job and you just ended up leaving him alone. Nifty seemed to enjoy being all over you, sitting on your shoulders while you were reading or just playing with your hair.
 
Another one who was happy about your touchy personality was Charlie, but she is just happy about everything.
 ☆◦•◦☆
It started a month from your arrival.
Alastor, being a self-proclaimed gentleman, didn't seem to be aware of your not touching Alastor rule, he started holding the door open for you then creating a shadow to lift up that heavy box that you needed to move, and you ended up—it was hard for you—just trying to move up your body away so you didn't end up too close to him, but he seemed to love your personal space so much.
 
One time, you were in the hallway, not really aware of your surroundings, until you felt an arm around your shoulders. When you heard his static voice, you froze on your steps, slowly turning your head to see him there, standing with that so-known smile of his. When he started to walk, still holding you, talking about that great idea for the hotel, you just couldn't pay so much attention. Your mind is running on thoughts about his proximity.
This wasn't the only time he ended up having you close to him; being honest, it seems to have a personal liking to your presence. You doubt he was like that before your arrival (as you already spoke with Charlie about it), but he could be found anywhere you were. If you ended up helping fix the balcony fence, he was there behind you—you're glad he's at least silent—or when you are in the bar just scrolling through your phone and he is watching you from the other side of the room, not wanting to be near your technology artifacts, is he just trying to drive you mad? Even though that look of his seems to be asking for something you don't know, you won't ask what it is. Just wait to see how it goes.
 
His touch soon became more frequent. You often end up with your own theory that it's something involuntary, like something he doesn't even notice by the way it feels, like deep in the end he just wants to be touched but don't know how to ask for it. But with that demon, nothing is sure; everything he does used to be planned. That's why you found yourself confused and don't want to test your luck.
 
When you are in the lobby in the middle of one of Charlie's activities and his arm ends up holding you by his side.
Or when he just kisses the back of your hand every time you first see him in the morning and every time he leaves, no exceptions, that confusing look of his is always there.
Just about that, your hands—he often takes your hands. While you are in the kitchen and waiting for the pasta on the stove, one of your hands is resting on the counter as you hold a recipe book, reading the next steps. He's by your side the whole time; one of his hands takes your free hand, making you pause your reading and look at him in surprise for the sudden action. He says nothing, and both of you are standing there in silence until you have to go back to cook. However, he doesn't seem to want to let you go yet because he will follow you as you move around the kitchen.
 
From them, it seems that everyone is aware of this weird Alastor thing.
Nobody talks about it though—you are surprised as they have stayed out of the subject, just making silent bets about the cause of this behavior of his—but you know it wouldn't take long for someone to talk about it.
 
 ☆◦•◦☆
The last time he put his hands on you, you were scared. So much has passed since the last time you felt this way. Anxious and terrified, everything around you was spinning; you had to run away from the hotel activities all day.
When Alastor found you in your room, you were a mess, all your stuff scattered around the room. You saw him from your seat in a corner on the other side of the room; the only candle in the nightstand seemed to be dead soon. He just stood there in front of you; you didn't even try to look up at him, just his shoes. You can tell so much about someone else by his shoes; his shoes seemed almost perfectly clean even after destroying his enemies. He's such a collected person that it scares you.
 
"Why, dear, would you look at me?" Alastor surely doesn't enjoy being ignored; you know that. You just couldn't find the strength to move when he spoke to you. It passed almost 5 minutes before you turned your head up, and he was so patient with you the whole time. "What is that troubling your mind, dear?"
 
You didn't respond right away; you're not sure how much time passed until you did it.
 
"It's just... everything." Your hands run around your face as you try not to have an attack right away in front of him. "I'm so scared, Alastor."
 
He just smiled; nothing was said; he didn't even try to touch your shoulder or hold you; he just smiled with that now so common smile of his, —you could swear it was the biggest smile you had seen on his face —one of his arms extended to you.
You have no idea why you did what you did; maybe he asked you directly, or you imagined it all, or his eyes showed what he wanted, or the candle in your room was one of Angel's drugs, or you just simply had a death wish. You don't know.
But you hugged him—just a hug—so hard that you could break his bones. When you took conscience about what you were doing, you tried to back down, not knowing how he could react to your contact.
But he didn't let you; his arm took you by the waist, and his staff was forgotten on the ground when he held your head against his shoulder.
 
You now understand why he always touched you. While you hands grabbed fists of his coat, he held you so tight, like it wasn't enough, and you just needed to be closer to him forever; he didn't want anything else.
So he did, he didn't let you go for a single moment that night; even when you were in bed, he held your hand the whole time. He just let you go the next morning when Vaggie insisted he needed to go do his job, even so he wouldn't forget to kiss your hand before he left. The ghost of his touch accompanied you all the time; it was like your body grew so used to his presence and his touch that you could feel it as a part of you.
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Touch Starved! Alastor folks!!! Alastor is such an interesting character to write! I want ro respect him so bad.
Likes and reblogs are appreciated 💞
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kooktrash · 2 months
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lost & found | jeon jungkook
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summary:your college years have never been something you dwelled on for too long. you didn’t want to think of all the chances you lost and that’s why when the guy you had a crush on moves back to town, you try not to let it affect you again. but then he brings up old memories that didn’t go the way you thought they had and you’re thrown for a loop. you’re stuck between finding something new with him and falling back into old habits of never standing up for yourself. it probably doesn’t help that he dated your best friend, where everything seemed to go wrong.
➣ genre/au: jungkook x reader [she/her, female anatomy], mid-20’s friendships. what kind of au is this? smut, plot
➣18.7k words
warnings: heavy plot. smut. a little bit of angst if you squint. tae is oc defender. shy oc. jk is an old college classmate. oc and jk got complicated, misunderstood history :(. oc is kinda insecure? bathroom sex. teasing. foreplay [f and m receiving]. very neeeedddy, long time waited sex.. unprotected. jk fucks oc on the counter, on the door. jk is tatted up but not in his college days. heavy makeout. breast play. fingering. dirty talk. oc goes down on jk as a thx 🤧 jk dated oc’s bestie but there’s HISTORY. oc’s bestie is the real villain im sorry. took advantage of two insecure college kids >:( love lost, love found vibes. just read I swear it’s not that bad 😭 no cheating. FRIEND BREAK UPS. oc gets confident toward the end
song inspo: bff — jesse
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As you settle into adulthood, you learn a few things about friendships. There tends to be a slight divide between those you’ve known since you were young and those you’ve collected over the years. Some might value the friendships they’ve held longer more than those that are more recent but for others, what matters is the trust that comes with friendship no matter with whom it might be with. You’re somewhere in between, you think.
You have people like Taehyung who you’ve only recently started to get to know and have had a chance to grow close with. He doesn’t know everything about you yet but he doesn’t need to, he seems to understand enough now to be an important person in your current life. He’s the kind of friend you're thankful you’ve met on some random occasion.
Then you have someone like your best friend, Miyoung. You’re not sure the last time you had ever been truly without her at your side. From your earlier school years to college, to now when you’re both settled into what would essentially be your careers and private lives. She’s… she's special to you in a way that you're not sure you could ever find in someone else—or at least that’s what she says?
There hasn’t been a time where it wasn’t the two of you practically glued together at the hip and you credit her for her outgoing nature that always seemed to balance with your more introverted demeanor. Of course it didn't mean you couldn’t make friends without her [take Taehyung for example] but she’s always seemed to gravitate people toward you with her energy. That’s why you're not at all surprised by tonight’s events and how everyone seemed surprised that you came alone.
”Honestly, I’m happy you made it, it feels like we haven’t seen each other in so long,” Your friend, Hoseok, pointed out as he led you to the private area of the lounge bar where it seemed like a reunion was taking place, “When Miyoung said she wasn’t going to make it, I thought you probably weren’t going to show up and—“
”Is that what you would have preferred?” You asked with a teasing smile as he began to stumble over his words, attempting to backtrack.
“What? Y/n, don’t you know I’ve been desperately enamored by you since your first year? Don’t make such crass comments,” He joked back, helping you out of your coat as you grew closer to the room filled with loud chatter. He led you with hands on your shoulders and said, “And between us, I’m a little happy she didn’t come. I wasn’t really in the mood for this to turn into a Battle of the Exes fighting ground.”
”What do you mean?” You barely had time to ask as you entered the room where an explosion of your name was heard by old college classmates of yours who all seemed on the border of tipsy and in a good mood. You couldn’t help but smile, looking at everyone at once till your eyes fell on the person in question.
He didn’t hesitate to meet your gaze with equal surprise as you sat across from him, just one person down the line. Immediately the people next to you tried sparking a conversation and you used it as a distraction to keep from gawking at him. When Miyoung told you she wouldn’t make it, you debated coming yourself but after some begging from Hoseok you decided to come along. Despite your best friend not joining, you're kind of glad she didn’t. Hoseok is right, it would have been a battlefield and you did not want to be caught in the middle of it.
“Y/n.”
Ignore, maybe? Just ignore and maybe he’ll forget trying to talk to you and your head won't be on the chopping block. You looked down the table at some of the other people you remember from campus activities or long lectures and tried to ignore the growing smile you could see on his face from the corner of your eye.
“Hungry?” The person next to you asked as he made you look his way. There were platters of hand food across the bar table and you happily took whatever Jimin offered. As much as you hated it, you couldn’t help but look across the table to make sure it really was who you thought it was,
Jeon Jungkook.
Better known as your best friend’s ex boyfriend.
Or worse, the first guy you liked when you started University.
”Hi,” he said in a low voice, catching you in the middle of staring at him. In your defense, he seemed so different—more matured if you will. Now he was covered in tattoos and piercings, he lost that sort of boyish charm but clearly gained something else along the way. He was buff and bigger, more intimidating yet alluring? Safe to say he didn’t look like the ‘Boy Next Door’ you had a crush on in your English seminar.
“You’re here,” was all you could think to say back, giving up on your sorry attempt at ignoring him for no real reason other than saving yourself from an awkward encounter.
”So are you,” Jungkook bit into his bottom lip as he looked at you closely. How is it that someone could look so different but the same all at once? In your gaze he could still see that curiosity in everything that he remembered from back then when he would spend lectures wondering what was on your mind. In your appearance, he can see how much you’ve changed physically. They were surely small differences in everyone else’s eyes but he always had a tendency to pay too much attention to you and it would get him in trouble.
You gave him a polite nod in response to his blatant observation that matched yours and attempted to shift your attention elsewhere but he didnt let it get too far. He cleared his throat, “How have you been?”
“Me?” You asked, “Okay, I guess. Busy with work.”
“So I’ve heard, you’re in marketing now, right? What happened to your writing?” Jungkook asked, seeming genuinely curious to know. He didn’t care for the conversations happening around him more than he did hearing your response now that you looked more willing to give him one.
“It wouldn’t have paid the bills—You remember my writing?” You asked, surprise evident in your features that he couldn’t help but smile.
It was hard for him to forget his biggest competition at the time. He let out a small sigh, ready to go on about being unable to forget a certain piece you wrote when a firm hand was placed on his shoulder. Yoongi stood over him, “Smoke break?”
Say no, he thought. Jungkook could easily reject the offer and continue what he was going to say. Without meaning to, he looked back at you, but you had excused yourself from the table in the blink of an eye. Nodding hesitantly, he grabbed his jacket and followed his friend out while he wondered where you went so suddenly.
You were hiding in the washroom when you got the call from Miyoung, like she had a sixth sense telling her to reach out.
“So how is it? Is it as boring as I said it’d be?” Miyoung asked as she waited in line for some nightclub she was going to with some of her various other friends.
“Um, kind of?” You said without much thought—knowing it was what she wanted to hear. In reality, it was fun. You were greeted warmly that it washed away your earlier worries and you’re being taken care of by old friends you didn't get to talk to as much. Not to mention, you’re seeing Jungkook again after a couple years of hearing and thinking of nothing about the guy, so you don’t actually think it's boring.
Miyoung snorted, “Figures, good thing I didn’t go. I could not sit through more than an hour of everyone going on and on about what they’ve been up to. I mean, yeah I miss Hobi and stuff but I could see him whenever, y’know? Who all showed up?”
“I think everyone,” You admitted with a nervous bite of your lip. It was now or never. You tell her that it seems like Jungkook has come to visit or has come back to stay and you’re not sure how she’ll take that. She might even march over here just to tell him how she's felt these last two years and chances are that’ll ruin the easy vibe for everyone else. You leaned against the stall door and talked with her.
“So you’re back,” Yoongi asked with a smirk as he took a drag from his cigarette, “My Golden Boy’s back? Someone pinch me.”
“Funny guy,” Jungkook said sarcastically as he looked out onto the busy street. Yoongi shrugged, turning toward the bar window looking around to see the group, “Aren’t you happy you came?”
“Yeah, it’s great seeing everyone again,” Jungkook told him casually, flicking the end of his cigarette and watching the ash fall to the cold cement of the street.
“Want to know who surprised me tonight?” Yoongi asked, looking over at him to see if his expression would change at all, “Y/n.”
Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “What do you mean?”
He shrugged, dropping ash to the ground, “Y/n never comes out to these sorts of things, and if she does come it’s usually with Miyoung but she came by herself tonight.
“Yeah…” Jungkook zoned out a bit as he thought about it more, “Why doesn’t she meet up with you guys often?”
“You know Y/n doesn't really go out,” Yoongi said, “And she’s busy with work, at least that’s what Hobi says. I don’t know, when Hobi said Miyoung wasn’t coming tonight we both expected Y/n to not show too but… hey, aren’t you happy she isn’t here?”
“I don’t really care either way,” Jungkook confessed truthfully, “But do you know if… y’know, you might have heard something about Y/n and if she’s still seeing someone or—“
“Oh God,” Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh as he put his cigarette out, Jungkook doing the same, “It’s been like three years, man.”
Jungkook watched him laugh as he walked off leaving him to follow, “What?”
Yoongi held the door open for him, “You know what, but I’ll answer your question, anyway. Last I heard Y/n is single, so what now?”
He waited for Jungkook to respond but he wasn’t listening anymore. There were too many things on his mind that he needed to work out before you came back to the table.
“What do you mean you’re leaving? You just got here,” Jimin said to you as he held your hand in his to stop you from leaving, “One more drink.”
“It’s late,” You tried to say, “I’ve got to be up early.”
“Liar, it’s a Saturday night, Y/n. Sit your ass back down,” Hobi said with a firm voice making you sit down immediately. He flashed you a cute smile before asking everyone if they wanted another round of drinks.
“So, what were we talking about earlier?” Jungkook asked, trying to get you to talk to him again, “Your writing? Yeah, how can I forget it? Remember we used to read each other’s essays all the time before… well.”
Before he broke up with your best friend.
“Yeah, I remember,” You admitted, trying to find something to say. What kind of questions would Miyoung want to know? What do you want to know? What should you prepare your friend to know? “How long are you visiting?”
“Actually, I just moved back, I got a job doing graphic design for a local company,” Jungkook told you with the hint of a smile, “It’s my first time meeting up with everyone again.”
You let yourself indulge in small talk with him here and there but usually when he started it. The night had been fine, you enjoyed your time but after a while all you wanted to do was go home and Hoseok couldn’t make you stay any longer. You ended your night wondering if you should go out more.
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Everything has a backstory, right? How it all started and yours seems pretty tacky. You spent the first couple years of University doing what you had to do in school and letting Miyoung drag you to whatever outing she had on the weekends. Some time in your third year, you joined this English class with the most boring, monotonous professor ever and that’s where you met Jungkook.
In all honesty, you thought he was cute from the get go. Sitting through three hours of a boring lecture led people to do odd things and one of those for you was staring at the cute guy who sat down a couple rows from you. It was just a little thing you did to pass time so you never expected anything to actually happen from it.
Then one day most of the seats were taken [naturally, it was a large class] and he seemed to have been running late because his usual cycle of seats were all taken except the one next to yours. Despite all those times you would find yourself ogling the stranger, when he was right next to you, you didn’t say a single word.
It was Jungkook who spoke first and it was just to ask if you could help him catch up. That day you were supposed to read someone else’s prompt and revise it and you chose each other which then trickled down to a routine of it. Without speaking much, he would sit next to you or silently save you a seat whenever you were running late and the one time you decided to switch it up and sit elsewhere…
Well, he was practically pouting the whole day.
It had been a nearly perfect set up to what could have been if you just allowed yourself to go for things but it didn’t happen that way.
One random Tuesday night, Miyoung wanted to go out for some cheap drinks and you found yourselves at a bar not too far from campus where you ran into a senior in one of your classes. Yoongi had come up to you first, just greeting you and making small talk when Jungkook who apparently had come with him, recognized you too.
They drank with you and Miyoung for a bit and you honestly thought it had been fun. You had never had real conversations with him outside of school work and it was nice to have more people to hang with that it just felt natural. Though at some point through the night Miyoung had gotten kind of flirty. She claims she assumed you had wanted Yoongi and not Jungkook and practically called dibs on him despite meeting him for the first time that night.
When she made her intents obvious, you couldn’t help but backtrack.
You always considered yourself pretty self aware about yourself. There was nothing special really and when you compare yourself to Miyoung there just isn’t much competition.
She was the perfect Prom Queen type who always had the nicest clothes or the cutest boyfriends, the best awards and most interesting stories. The amount of guys she would pull who you didn’t even have a chance with was insane. And though you might sound bitter, you’re not. You’ve never been the type to want the spotlight or attention and being best friends with someone so damn perfect was that you could always stay in the shadows.
So when she started flirting with Jungkook, you didn’t really notice his awkward glances or how he shied away from her proximity. You only saw how he smiled politely and listened to her go on and on about how great she is and assumed he was into her like all the others had been.
You tried to act normal after that, you would talk to him every now and then and never questioned why he stopped talking to you as much until he started dating Miyoung but you weren’t bitter. You were understanding.
It made sense he would date her. She was beautiful and smart and someone people pine for. It was a given that that would happen so once again, you didn’t take it personal.
They dated for a couple months [nothing serious at all] and then he dumped her which resulted in Miyoung practically forbidding you from even looking his way at all. You completed your last year without thinking about him despite the various mutual friends you shared and went on with your life when he moved.
That was the backstory and why you felt so awkward seeing him the other night.
You haven’t told Miyoung yet because there’s a high chance she won’t care at all and would get annoyed that you even thought to bring it up. Your friend is very pretty and she likes being in relationships so she’s been in quite a few since they dated and probably doesn’t care to be reminded at all.
The only person you’ve told is Taehyung.
“But did you at least have fun?” He asked as the two of you sat at a small restaurant for lunch. You nodded your head, “Yeah, it was alright. It was just weird, for me at least.”
“Why?” Taehyung asked as he dug into his meal, stuffing his mouth with no care in the world, “I mean it’s obvious everyone was happy to see you and didn’t want you to leave. Who cares if Miyoung didn’t go, clearly it didn’t matter to anyone else.”
You didn’t say anything, taking your time to enjoy your meal as you drifted off in thought. He is right, you know that sometimes it’s just in your head and you overthink things. You always feel like you’re boring to others so it’s natural for you to assume no one would be happy to see just you and not your bubble of joy best friend. There has to be a certain level of comfort between you and another person to show personality and it’s rare people get to see it.
“But how’d it go with that guy? Did he ask you about her?” Taehyung asked with a hint of curiosity.
“Not that I can remember. I don’t know, it was kind of awkward but we talked a bit,” You told him honestly, “He just moved back down so that’s cool I guess.”
Taehyung looked at you skeptically but you avoided his gaze, trying to distract yourself with your phone.
yoongi: throwing a welcome back party for jk this weekend, u coming?
you: idk, if I’m free
yoongi: … ur always free🤒
yoongi: just say yes, bring whoever u want
you: but is he ok with me going
yoongi: y wouldn’t he be
yoongi: he’s the one who asked me to make sure u come
you: okkkkkk 🥹
“Tae, can you come with me to this party please?” You asked, immediately showing your friend your text messages leaning across the table for him to see them clearly.
Taehyung’s brows furrowed as he read through the texts carefully, “Jungkook is the ex boyfriend, right? Why’s he so interested in you going?”
“He’s not,” you said, “He’s probably just doing it to be nice, since everyone I know will be there.”
“What if he’s… y’know, interested?” Taehyung asked curiously and you nearly choked on your drink.
“No, oh my god,” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “We were just classmates and we stopped talking after he dumped Miyoung so—“
“Yeah but did you ever stop to think ‘hm, I’m the one who knew this guy first and then Miyoung went and snatched him from me before I even got a chance to explore’,” Taehyung said in a high pitched voice, presumably mocking yours. You reached over to playfully shove his shoulder making him grin mischievously.
“What? No, it wasn’t like that at all,” You tried to say, “Him and I didn’t even really talk until the night he met her at the bar and… no, that’s crazy. He liked Miyoung right away.”
Taehyung just sighed, giving up on trying to get through to you, “If you say so, but who’s the one he approached first? Because I can tell you right now it wasn’t her.”
Despite how he expresses himself when he talks about your best friend, he doesn’t dislike her. He thinks Miyoung is alright, maybe a little too much for his tastes but that doesn’t mean anything. He understands the two of you are really close and although he has had many chances to befriend her too, he just hasn’t.
He’ll talk to her if you force them to hang out together but he would never go out of his way to be her friend. It might sound bad but Taehyung is pretty protective over you and rightfully so, he feels.
He doesn’t want to badmouth one of his closest friends but you have a tendency to overthink things. You don’t realize how great you are and make yourself seem smaller and he thinks Miyoung and other people like her in your life are at fault. He’s heard some of the things she says to you and it’s like you hold her up so highly there’s no room for you to see how pretty, smart, and talented you are. And before anyone gets the wrong idea, he’s not in love with you or anything.
You’re too good for him so he gave up on that idea long ago.
Plus, now that he’s able to connect some of those pieces from when you were in Uni, some things are clicking into place for him. Miyoung tends to dim your light a bit, or copy something you do and claim it as her own and when he hears this little backstory between all of your old college friends… he just can’t help but wonder if Jungkook was one of those things she claimed for herself.
With that thought in mind, he agreed to go with you to this party and see for himself what is there and what could be. He just wants what’s best for you and for you to be able to go and get it without worrying you’re not good enough or stepping on anyone’s toes.
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When Friday night came, your apartment was filled with loud music and even louder complaints coming from one person in particular. Taehyung was just listening to you and Miyoung go back and forth about tonight’s plans and it got to the point where you couldn’t say anything but the truth about what you would be doing tonight.
“It’s a welcome back party for Jungkook,” You said, trying your hardest not to let your voice sound strained.
“What? When did he get back?” Miyoung asked, sitting up from your bed and tossing your pillow off her lap, “Like he moved back?”
“Yeah, I guess not too long ago,” You said with a shrug, looking in your mirror to see if you liked the way you looked or not, “I don’t know, Yoongi is the one who invited me.”
“Why didn’t I know? Why wasn’t I invited?” Miyoung asked, turning to Taehyung like he would have the answers.
“Probably because you’re his ex girlfriend and you ditched out on their little reunion so you could party,” Taehyung said, not bothering to look up from his phone.
“Yeah but, why’d they ask Y/n? She’s not even friends with him,” Miyoung said with a slight scoff, “You’re not actually going right? We could go out, just the three of us. You already hung out with them, you and I haven’t gone out in weeks, let’s just do our own thing. Unless you’re trading me in for all of them.”
You looked at her with apologetic eyes. You’ve been busy with work recently and she is right. The last people you hung out with aside from Taehyung were all of them two weekends ago so it would only be fair to hang out with her this time. It shouldn’t mean anything that you were invited and that Jungkook wanted to make sure you were going. Miyoung was supposed to be your best friend so how could you go to a party she wasn’t invited to?
Just as you were going to give in and shoot Yoongi a text that you weren’t going to make it, Taehyung spoke up for you. “Why don’t you just come with? One of them said Y/n can bring whoever she wants and I’m already going so it’s not like you have to be by yourself. Plus, aren’t the rest of them supposed to be your friends too? Y/n already agreed.”
“Why didn’t you ask me first?”
“I didn’t realize I needed permission,” You couldn’t help but sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed to comfort her, “We can just stop by, have a drink or two and leave if it’s lame. Come on.”
After much convincing, the three of you arrive at Yoongi’s place which was a small house with good outdoor space and the inside was packed with people already. The amount of party goers made you anxious but at the same time slightly thrilled that surely the attention would never be on you with so many people around.
“Y/n! Miyoung!” Namjoon spotted you two first and he threw his arms around you both with a grin, “Surprised to see you here, Mimi.”
“Yeah, probably because I was the only one not invited,” Miyoung said bitterly, making Namjoon take a drink from his cup and look away nervously.
“Let’s get you guys drinks then,” He said with an awkward clear of his throat looking to Taehyung, “What’s up, I’m Namjoon.”
“Taehyung,” he said, following you to the drinks table. The music played loudly and there were a lot of people having a good time that it was somewhat easy to try and blend in and act normal. Miyoung had a pout on her face, looking around worried but Namjoon brightened her mood and every now and then another friend would stop by to greet her. Taehyung mostly clung to you and only drifted away when a friend would spark conversation with you but you were thankful he was around.
“Y/n,” someone called out to you from across the room. You couldn’t make them out through the crowd of people and it took a while before you spotted Jungkook making his way to your direction.
“Jungkook,” you said with a nervous breath, looking around for Miyoung but she was off with Namjoon talking about god knows what.
“How long have you been here? Why didn’t you say anything?” Jungkook asked, slightly more energetic than usual. His hair was messy, with strands out of place, he wore a basic black tee and baggy jeans so why did he look good? It’s still hard for you to wrap your mind around who this is.
He’s gotten so muscular and just… more intimidating with his tattoo sleeve and piercings and it’s so unexpected but in a good way.
“I, um, you know, I just assumed you were busy,” you lied, looking around for one of your friends. Taehyung was at the table getting a drink and he’ll be back soon to save you before Miyoung looks around.
Jungkook found himself looking around too, as if he could see what you did but he came up short, “Did you come with anyone?”
“Yeah, Miyoung and a friend of mine,” you rushed the words out in hopes of sounding casual but Jungkook didn’t even bat an eye.
“So what are you doing alone?” He asked with a raised brow, taking a step closer to you, “Actually, there’s something that’s been on my mind since last time I saw you and I uh… I haven’t had the chance to say it.”
You blinked nervously, looking up at him and how close he was to you, “What is it?”
He licked his lips, playing with his lip rings shyly, “Well, I was wondering if you would like to get together some time, just you and I. We’ve never had the chance to hang out.”
“We’re hanging out right now, aren’t we?” You asked, feigning naivety that almost seemed teasing. In truth, you could sense what he was possibly asking and you needed him to stop. There was no reason for you two to hang out alone, no matter how much the thought made you giddy.
“I guess,” Jungkook couldn’t help but let his eyebrows knit together in confusion. He took another step closer to you, hand on the wall behind you for support. , “But I was still hoping… I know it’s probably kind of awkward but we’re grown, right? We can get together without worrying about anyone else.”
“Who says it’s because I’m worried?” You asked with a hint of playfulness in an attempt to ease some of the growing tension caused by the way he looked at you, “Where is this coming from all of a sudden?”
That made him crack a smile, “All of a sudden?”
“Yes, all of a sudden,” another voice added in from behind him and you jumped at the sound. Jungkook didn’t bother to turn around, he was more focused on the way you tried to look behind him and meet Miyoung’s glare.
“Where’d you run off to?” You asked, pushing past him making Jungkook slide his hand off the wall and roll his eyes at the disruption.
“Somewhere I felt wanted,” she said bitterly, eyes on Jungkook as she spoke to you, “Let’s go, I’m bored.”
“I thought you were having a good ti—“
“I’m not, Y/n,” Miyoung almost snapped, “You said we could have a drink and go. We’ve been here for like forever and I want to leave. That’s what we agreed on.”
“Okay, jeez, let’s go then,” You said with a sigh, “Let me find Taehyung.”
“Go, then,” Miyoung said, making you take a deep breath, trying to tell yourself she had a right to be upset. She didn’t want you [as her best friend] talking to her ex boyfriend. And you did say you didn’t have to stick around for long…
“What?” Miyoung asked Jungkook with a roll of her eyes as she caught him staring, “Did I interrupt something?”
“You still don’t know how to speak to people like they’re human beings,” Jungkook said simply, “And it’s sad to watch.”
“Screw you,” Miyoung scoffed, “You’re just mad I stopped you from trying to ask my best friend out. My friends are off limits.”
“She was my friend too,” Jungkook said as a reminder, “And I can do whatever I want. You’re just childish.”
She snorted, “Right, says the guy who fumbled me.”
He couldn’t seem to act mature anymore and before he stop himself he said, “Remember, you’re not the one I wanted anyway.”
He walked off without much care for how she felt and found his other friends, wondering who it was you ran off to find.
“Tae, can we go now?” You asked your friend. Taehyung had found himself a group of people to entertain with his stories and had nearly forgotten who he had tagged along with until you pulled him to the side.
“Uh, okay,” Taehyung cleared his throat awkwardly, “What happened? I thought everyone was having a good time.”
“Miyoung wants to leave,” You said with a small sigh, “She saw me talking to Jungkook and I just don’t want it to become this big problem so can we please just go?”
Taehyung placed an arm on your shoulder, leading you to Miyoung who waited at the door, “Yeah, sure let’s go.”
The car had only stayed silent for the first half of the drive to Miyoung’s apartment. Somewhere between the last red light and this short stretch of road, a fire had been lit underneath her which made her start up again.
“So what was that back there?” Miyoung asked from the backseat and you debated just acting asleep or like you were too drunk to listen properly. She leaned forward, looking at you closely.
“What do you mean?” You asked nervously.
“You know exactly what I mean,” Miyoun said with an annoyed tone, “First you get invited to a party for my ex boyfriend and next thing I know the two of you are whispering in the corner looking like you’re about to kiss and like I’m not even in the room.”
Taehyung had to bite his tongue from responding, worried that if he spoke too soon it would only make you seem more weak to her antics. He just tapped his fingers against the window trying to keep silent
“Miyoung,” You started with a sigh, “You’re overreacting. It was nothing, we’re friends—“
“Since when?” Miyoung scoffed, “You’re supposed to be my friend, Y/n.”
“I am,” You said defensively, “And if you want to talk about this tomorrow then that’s fine but right now it’s late and we’ve all been having a decent time so don’t ruin it…”
“Y/n’s right, let’s end the night on a good note,” Taehyung finally said but he seemed to go ignored by you two.
“You’re not though, real friends wouldn’t flirt with their best friend’s ex boyfriend—“
“You two dated for less than five months and it was years ago,” You blurted out, “I knew him before that so don’t act like I’m betraying you.”
“Oh my god, I knew you’d still be bitter I started seeing him,” Miyoung said, suddenly making you hide your face in your hand from exhaustion. “I didn’t know you had a thing for him back then. You should’ve said something instead of holding it against me like you do everything else.”
“What are you talking about?” You couldn’t help but scoff.
Miyoung’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, “You know exactly what I’m talking about and it’s not fair.”
Taehyung took a deep breath, fingers clenched around the steering wheel unable to bite his tongue any longer, “Miyoung I don’t think you’re being fair. You’re clearly drunk and you just want to arg—“
“Shut up, Taehyung,” She snapped, slurring on her words a bit and not even realizing the car came to a stop in front of her building, “I’m not even talking you and you can stop acting like Y/n’s bodyguard because last time I checked she’s a grown adult who could speak for herself. God, I swear everyone is the same. Just because Y/n is boring and insecure, doesn’t mean she doesn’t know how to speak for herself.”
“Get out. We’re at your place so just go,” Taehyung said, annoyed with the harshness she was projecting on you, “Y/n might put up with you but I won’t.”
With an irritated scoff, she swung the back door open, “Fine, screw you guys too.”
The door slammed shut as she stormed up to her apartment and Taehyung waited till she was gone to say, “Fuck, what did that girl drink? Y/n, why do you put up with that? Hey.”
You stayed silent for a moment letting her words sink in. Whatever, she yelled and threw a tantrum, that’s fine, that’s normal. But she seriously thinks you’re just a bore and maybe you’re starting to believe it too. If it weren’t for you always being cautious over how she might feel about you and what you do, you wouldn’t seem so boring.
Or was that just how you were and now you’re trying to say it’s because of Miyoung? Jeez, you just can’t seem to make up your mind about anything but all you know is that… you’re not boring. Well, you don’t have to be. If she wants to think that always backing up whatever she says makes you boring, then maybe it’s time you just do what you want even if she doesn’t like it.
“Tae, can you do me a favor,” You finally said, making him look over at you curiously. The car is still parked in front of Miyoung’s place and he’s been waiting for you to speak anyway, “What?”
“Take me back to the party please.”
Miyoung was wrong, if you were boring it’s because she made you boring. Anytime you did anything on your own, she always had to ruin it and you just let her. You just let Miyoung monopolize your time and make you her right-hand in everything. You’ve never gotten the chance to truly put yourself out there because you firmly believed you didn’t compare.
Maybe you needed to stop overthinking and just do what you want, be confident—or at least act like you are.
“Y/n! You’re back?” Yoongi asked once you made it to the party again, “Let me tell you, I was mad because I thought you left before even talking to me.”
“I’m so very sorry,” You said playfully, “But do you know where Jungkook is?”
He seemed to freeze up, surprise written on his face and he looked down at you questioning. You held his gaze, watching the wheels turn in his head before he was blurting out, “I don’t know. The bathroom?”
You blinked nervously, letting him slip away from you when someone called for him and were left standing there. Your mind was racing with ideas yet you couldn’t think of what to do.
What did you expect coming back?
What does this prove?
You feel anxious and insecure and maybe she was right, you’re boring and you don’t even speak up or do anything exciting.
“Jungkook?” You called out to him as you walked down the hall of doors, knocking or opening whichever door you landed on. You got to the last door with a bated breath, realizing it’s a bedroom and closed yourself in.
Your sense of bravado had been short lived. Whatever burst of confidence you had was completely gone now that you sat alone in the guest room contemplating just going home or not.
In all honesty, this was stupid from the very beginning. You let Miyoung’s words get to you and you acted before you could think. You didn’t need to prove anything. Plus, you don’t want Jungkook. Maybe once before you did… but not… anymore?
God, you felt like an idiot.
“Y/n?”
Your heart dropped with a sense of disbelief as you looked up. The once pitch black room was illuminated by a block of light from the open bathroom door. Jungkook stood at the doorway, brows furrowed as he looked at who sat on the bed.
“Jungkook,” you cleared your throat awkwardly.
“You’re back?” He asked, looking you up and down with a hint of suspicion. You nodded your head silently, making him blink with confusion.
You stood up from the bed suddenly, “Are you done in there?”
“Uh, yeah,” he moved out of your way, watching you closely as you closed the door in his face before he could say anything else.
Maybe this had been a sign that you didn’t want to talk to him but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the privacy in the bedroom to go out where everyone else was. He could hear the faucet running but oblivious to how you wet your face to try and snap yourself out of this strange mood before drying off. When you opened the door, you didn’t expect to see him standing there right in front of you.
“Everything alright?” He asked, halfway in the doorway, walking forward making you step deeper into the bathroom.
“Yeah, everything’s great,” you said with a strained smile, backing away, “Just—what about you? Has it been fun, this is all for you, right?”
“I guess,” Jungkook shrugged, “But it would have been more fun if you stayed.”
“Good thing I came back then,” you couldn’t help but laugh nervously, leaning against the sink counter.
“Good thing,” Jungkook licked his dry lips, “Y/n, about what I was saying earlier… I would honestly like for us together sometime, just the two of us.”
A small, shy smile appeared on your lips as you thought about earlier and repeated yourself playfully, “We’re hanging out right now, aren’t we?”
“I guess,” he blinked in confusion, looking down at you and struggling to keep his composure. Your response was a bit of a let down since he hoped you had come back to see him and he should have known better. You would never take him seriously after his mess with Miyoung and he was always reaching for the stars thinking it could work out.
Plus, you’re too good for him. You always have been.
He can’t explain why, but he’s always felt a sense of ease with you, like everything was perfect. As shameful as it is to admit, Miyoung had reasons to be worried.
When they dated… well, it didn’t stop him from thinking about you from time to time. Miyoung was aware of it too and he looks back on it now and realizes how wrong he was then. It was wrong for him to think about you when he was never able to have you, and he will be much less now.
“Am I wrong? Is it not just the two of us now?” You asked, swallowing the lump in your throat and looking to the bathroom door which was closed some time ago.
“Y/n,” he said it softly but you could sense his warning tone, like you were going to get yourself in trouble. Jungkook wanted to believe you were aware of what this looked like yet he knew there was a chance you weren’t. He couldn’t just go for it.
He could not just go for it.
Not even if you looked up at him with a look in your eyes that said you might want him to…
He could be dreaming it up.
Would you want him to?
No. No way, you would never, that’s how this all started right? You wouldn’t want him the way he wanted you and you’ll go be with someone else while he beats himself up for another failed attempt. He’s not in college anymore, he can’t make the same mistakes.
You do not want him.
“Y/n,” he said with a sigh, “I think we should get out n—“
It was soft but sudden. One second he was giving up on everything he had been hoping for and was ready to go on once again without telling you how he really felt. The next, your lips were on his, barely giving him a chance to feel the tenderness of it before pulling away with a gasp.
“Jungkook,” you covered your mouth with your hand, “Oh my god. I’m s-sorry, I, that was not okay. I shouldn’t have done that.”
You were rambling, apologizing for doing it without asking him first but in all honesty, he couldn’t hear you anymore. There was a strange ringing in his ear that only seemed to stop when he grabbed your face in his hands, and pulled you into a real kiss.
To keep yourself from leaning back too far, you wrapped your arms around his neck and met him the rest of the way. You kissed him back with an equal sense of urgency that had his eyes falling shut and letting himself get lost in the moment. Your lips were soft against his own and his lip rings felt cold on your tongue the first couple times.
At one point you surprised him by nipping at his piercings with a soft tug and it had his hands tightening around your waist, using his strength to pull you onto the counter with ease. It made it easier to kiss you and he let the small sigh you let out guide his tongue between your lips. Your hands were in his dark hair, and you surprised him with the way you took lead of the kiss. It felt like he was melting into you and it was doing things to him.
“Y/n,” he mumbled softly, “I want you so bad.”
You pulled back from him with widened eyes. It was the first time you heard him sound that way and you knew he meant it. He looked at you with an intense gaze and it felt good to be looked at that way by him. You wanted him too, right? That’s why you came back. That's why you were so upset back then. Why can’t you have him now?
What was really stopping you?
Nothing.
The second time he kissed you, you didn’t hesitate from doing more and it had his mouth dropping when he felt your hand trace down his toned chest. He let that feeling motivate his hands to do the same to you and they ran along your sides till he could feel your front. His hands slipped under your top and found your chest, gently reaching to touch you as he kissed you with his tongue.
Your fingers trailed down his navel to the waistband of his jeans, tugging softly and teasingly that you felt the way he sucked in a shaky breath. When he didn’t pull away to tell you to stop, you took it as a sign to go a little farther and undo the button and zipper. Jungkook’s rough fingers caressed your breasts ever so softly but with an added pressure that made you let out a small sigh, especially when he ran his thumb over your nipples.
He released a light groan against your lips when you got more confident in your actions and slipped into the hem of his Calvin Klein’s. You barely touched his growing member but you felt it harden against you, the more attention you gave to it and it was all just exciting to you. His kisses were needy and his rough hands felt so good against your sensitive buds that you couldn’t hold yourself back. You wanted to make him feel good too and you could tell you were.
Jungkook helped you tug his jeans down enough for you to have more reign over him and you touched his bare dick so softly. The first touch was light and teasing, like you were still letting him get lost in the feeling before you actually did anything but it was soft that it made a tingle run down his spine. Goosebumps rose on his skin and blood ran straight to his cock making it easier for you softly palm him to full hardness.
You circled your fingers around his tip, softly running your thumb around the ring feeling him twitch with need and softly sliding down to his base.
His movement grew rougher, he was no longer softly caressing your breasts but more groping, never getting enough for the softness of them. When you began to stroke him gently, he found it hard to keep himself from digging his nails into your flesh to ground himself and it made a hand of his fall to your leg. His palm was wide and flat against your inner thigh, tracing his lips down your jaw and to your neck to try and distract himself from getting too lost into the feeling.
“Fuck,” he huffed, licking his dry lips as he began to slowly fuck into your closed fist, deaf to the sound of music just outside the bedroom you two were hiding in. The bathroom felt even smaller at this point yet he couldn’t bring himself to put a stop to it now. Especially not when your hand began to fuck his cock faster, with more vigor as he twitched in your hold making his nails dig into your thigh harshly.
Your skirt was scrunched up around your hips at this point and he could see the soft blue of your laced underwear and couldn’t stop himself anymore. He had grown too curious to have you and with his hand so close already, he let his thumb trace along your covered folds.
They were already sensitive at this point and his sudden touch made your insides tighten with arousal, your back straightened in surprise and a light moan left your lips. The sound snapped his attention away from his own pleasure and when he did it again, he swallowed your moan with his mouth on yours.
He couldn’t take thing slow anymore, especially not when his dick felt so close to the edge already and was trying not to cum all over your hand and so soon.
You were withering against him, squirming on the counter to feel more of his hand against your heat. Your fingers tightened in his hair when he reached under to the hem of your panties, pulling them down as far as he could. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he tugged them down your thighs. Jungkook pulled away from your lips with a slight groan as he brought his fingers to your lips. He pressed into your bottom lip watching close as you drew your mouth open and took them in. As you licked between two fingers, your hand’s stroking sped up with more pressure that had him pushing them deeper down your throat.
When he pulled them out there was an obvious line of drool connecting his fingertips to your lips and he brought his hand between your legs once more. The mixture between his rough fingers and the slick that now coated them made a tingle run down your spine when they ran along your folds. You pinched the fabric of his shirt as he circled your hardening clit with his middle finger while his index finger began to tease your sensitive labor.
He ran the longer finger down your slit, dipping into the puddle of arousal that formed at your center before using it to wet your clit and massage you gently.
You looked into his eyes as he finally pressed his middle finger into your waiting cunt, giving you a second to respond and he couldn’t help but let his lips slip open with heavy breaths. Your hand stopped its actions as you took in the feeling of him pulling out his finger before pushing it forward once more. Each time felt hotter than the last and it made him want to take things further. When he thought you adjusted enough, he teased the tip of his ring finger in with his middle one and kept a steady pace of thrusting.
At this point you began to stroke him again, rubbing against his mushroom tip where a thick vein was felt along the underside of it. Your hips had began to move with the motion of his hand and you were fucking his fingers into you while fucking his cock with a closed fist. The both of you were left speechless, unsure how long you had been locked away in the bathroom but not caring either.
You felt more impatient than him but you couldn’t help it. You can’t remember the last time you let someone else touch you and none felt quite like this. Jungkook seemed to know where to kiss, where to press or pay attention to and he never left a part of you untouched. Even now as he thrusted his fingers into you, his other hand was at your chest again, fingers pinching your nipple and tugging harshly but it brought little whines from your lips.
“Jungkook,” You were breathlessly calling for him and you’re sure that if your back wasn’t to the mirror, you would be able to see how desperate you looked to him. Your other hand was on his hips, pulling him forward in hopes of getting him to get the hint that you needed more, “Fuck me.”
“What?” He asked with heavy breaths, looking down at the way the tip of his cock pressed against your inner thigh now, “Really?”
“Please,” You found yourself begging, desperately begging for him to give you something and oh, how it worked.
His eyes rolled back at the soft sound of your begs and with a hand on your thigh, he pulled you harshly to the edge of the counter. He placed his hand over yours and stroked himself once, twice, to slick his member with your arousal and his own.
His cock was hot to the touch and pointed straight to your waiting entrance. He had made such a mess of you already that when he pressed his tip into your clit, it nearly slid down from how wet you are. You had to bite your lip to keep from whining too loud when he teased you with that repeated motion, wetting his tip more and feeling the way your walls tightened and released for him.
Your back was fully against the mirror now, legs open waiting for him and you were getting impatient. The anticipo had been building up for too long and you brought your hand between your legs. All it took was a soft push down for his cock to sink into your waiting pussy.
His jaw went slack at the sudden tightness of it, he hadn’t expected it to be so snug. His tip barely pushed against the ring of nerves and your facial expression matched his own when he kept going. He held your thighs open, guiding himself in with a deep breath.
“Fucking hell,” he growled lowly, hands trembling as he kept you open and ready to take him in. He looked up at your eyes, completely enamored by the way your features softened with pleasure. Your eyes were glazed over with obvious lust that made him want to just fuck you into oblivion.
“Oh my god,” your hand circled around his neck, pulling him into a sloppy wet kiss that left him biting your lip softly. He groaned against your lips as he picked up the pace of his thrusting, letting his cock drag against your puffy walls so that you could feel every juncture on his length. Your back was arched into him, your chest nearly pressed against his and he snuck his arm around your waist to pull you firmly against him.
“That’s it baby,” Jungkook groaned into your ear, gripping onto the counter with his free hand to fuck you better. You were on the edge of the sink and he bucked his hips up to reach that pleasure spot he had found with his fingers just moments ago and had you moaned loudly into his ear, “You sound pretty, tell me how it feels.”
“Feels good,” you whispered softly against his neck, lips teasing kisses against his skin that made the veins in his arms bulge, “Don’t stop, please.”
“Ngh, Y/n, beg for me,” Jungkook said with a deep voice filled with lust as he fucked you with all his strength. There were too many layers of clothing between you but neither of you seemed to have the time or energy to tear them off. You were both too focused on the pleasure that came from feeling his skin against yours.
Your legs tightened around his waist forcing more of his length into your sopping cunt and his fingers pinched your sides roughly. Without thinking, Jungkook lifted you off the counter. You clung to him as he stepped back and he needed a second to just feel the way your pussy tightened around his hard, thick cock. He wanted to dig into your guts and it was nasty how badly he wanted to have you cum all over him.
It was so unexpected because you always came off as a quiet, reserved person but here you were letting him tear you in two with his fat dick. Jungkook used his strength to push you against the door, letting you drop onto his length before backing his hips up and pistoning them back into you.
“Fuck, I can’t,” your legs tightened around him with your face digging into his neck, “Jungkook, baby, I can’t.”
“You can,” He whispered, pressing you firmly into the wall, “Come on baby, take it.”
“Too much,” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut as he picked up the pace and you searched around for something to hold. Your hand tightened around the doorknob, trying to anchor yourself as he fucked you so good you could barely focus on anything but the pleasure, “I’m so close.”
Jungkook’s hand held you firmly by the waist while the other cupped your ass, groping you harshly as he fucked you onto his length trying to make you cum, “Cum baby, for me. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you moaned, “Kiss me, please?”
He didn’t hesitate to do so, kissing you with tongue as you clung to him, moaning into his ear and shaking slightly. His knees buckled tightly to hold you up and just as he gave one final thrust to the hilt, he felt your orgasm hit you.
Your walls tightened around him, nearly bringing him to his own orgasm before feeling his tip get flooded with your release. His thighs shook with the pressure of it and he felt his strength leaving him. His abdomen grew tense and he pushed you back to the counter where you let your head fall back with pleasure. You swallowed dryly, panting heavily, “Oh my god.”
You were sweaty, tired and overall unsure what to think but your mind hadn’t cleared yet. All you could focus on was the way Jungkook’s dick throbbed painfully hard when he pulled out of you with a slight pop. You eyed his red member, slightly hypnotized by how pretty it looked and you dropped to your knees wordlessly.
Jungkook watched you slip down on your knees in front of him and it took him a moment to process what was going on. He was hard, so fucking hard he couldn’t think straight and it wasn’t until your hands held his thighs, eyeing his cock hungrily did he realize what you wanted to do. He brought a hand fo attempt and gently brush your hair back, “Y/n, baby, you don’t have t—oh fuck.”
His jaw went slack when your hands circled his base, your lips on his tip and taking him down your throat suddenly. Your nose brushed against the base of his cock, eyes watering as you tried relaxing your throat around him and he nearly stumbled back with surprise, “Y/n.”
You ignored his call of your name, and began to bob your head against his length, your tongue licking along the thick vein you discovered earlier and feeling his hands sink into your hair to guide you, “That’s it, fuck.”
Jungkook looked at his reflection in the mirror, turned on by the way your head was seen bobbing against his length and his body was overheating so much he had to pull his shirt over his toned chest to cool down. It gave him a perfect view of the way his cock disappeared between your lips.
The thought of having you like this hadn’t dawned on him yet but now he couldn’t forget it. The memory would always be ingrained in his mind and although he doesn’t know if he’ll never get a chance to do this again, he couldn’t hold it in any longer.
You gradually began to pick up the pace, using your hands to hold closed fists around his cock to help stroke what didn’t fit in your mouth. You swallowed and bobbed around his dick hungrily, moaning around him and hollowing your cheeks when you would pull your head back until only his tip was between your lips.
As ashamed as he was to admit it, he wasn’t going to be able to hold himself back anymore. Still wanting to warn you, he tried to guide your head off him, “I’m close.”
All it did was push you to take him deeper, stopping when he hit the back of your throat and sucked. Jungkook’s eyes squeezed shut with a loud growl as his orgasm hit him harder than it had in a very long time.
You coughed as his cum sprayed down your throat, thick and creamy with a bittersweet taste that you tried to lick up. You would’ve cleaned him off fully despite his legs shaking but he pulled you off. He pulled his softening dick out of your wet mouth with a huff, panting heavily as he looked down at you.
“Y/n,” his voice was dry, pulling you up to your feet, “That was…”
He couldn’t even get the words out as he watched you lick the corner of your lips and without thinking about it, he pulled you into a heated kiss. You kissed him back with need, moaning against him as his tongue circled around yours hungrily, not caring for the way he tased on you. You only broke away to catch your breath, realization dawning at you as you looked at his messy appearance that surely mirrored yours.
You sat against the counter for a moment, attempting to catch your breath as Jungkook did the same. The two of you were silently readjusting your clothes again and you needed just a moment to yourself. He looked at you, buttoning his jeans back up, “Is everything… okay?”
“Yeah, um, can I just get a minute,” You said with a hoarse voice trying to pretend like you couldn’t see the way his shoulders slumped down. With a short nod of his head, he left the bathroom to let you wash up and for a moment you just looked at yourself in the mirror.
Your reflection looked different, maybe because what you had just done was so out of character and with your best friend’s ex but… why did it feel right?
Jungkook wondered what would happen now, if you expected him to leave the room or wait for you but he wanted to be with you. He didn’t want to walk out and think that because he got something he’s been wanting for years now, he’ll just leave. He knows the others are looking for him, mostly because he’s gotten a few texts now asking where he’s at but he can’t bring it in himself to care. When you opened the bathroom door into the dark room, he looked like a deer caught in headlights, rushing to his feet, “Are you sure everything is fine?”
“Yeah, yes,” you nodded stiffly, “If you want to go out there with everyone else that’s fine. I won’t be upset or anything.”
“Well, I was kind of wondering if you wanted to come back to mine?”
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The first thing you noticed the following morning aside from the sun shining down on your face was the heavy arm across your waist. It made your eyes flutter awake with a small huff leaving your lips as you attempted to stretch your limbs but it tightened around you, securing you closer to Jungkook’s naked chest.
“Morning,” he mumbled sleepily into your hair as he hugged you closer.
“What time is it?” You asked awkwardly, trying to sit up making his arm slide to your hips instead. You reached for your cell phone, eyes widening by the number of text messages.
miyoung: bye I was drunkkkkkk 😳
miyoung: did I 🤮 at all?
miyoung: r u alive
miyoung: helloooooooo
A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you read it over. Either she couldn’t remember how upset she was in the car or she’s going to pretend like nothing at all happened.
God, what did you do?
“Y/n,” Jungkook grumbled tiredly, “Lay back down.”
“I should go,” You bit your lip nervously. If Miyoung forgot what happened last night then maybe she forgot about Jungkook asking you and won’t know you… slept with him. Fuck, were you a bad friend?
He dated your best friend and dumped her out of the blue making it obvious he wanted nothing to do with her and here you are letting him fuck you in the bathroom. What did that make you? You had a poor lapse of judgment last night, you acted out of character and hadn’t been behaving like yourself at all.
“Why?” He sat up suddenly, “You don’t work today, right? Why don’t we go grab breakfast—well, brunch.”
You looked down at him, unable to stop yourself from taking in his appearance. He had bed hair, no shirt on and his blanket draped over his waist. He failed to take off his jewelry last night so he still wears silver chain necklaces around his neck and leather bracelets. You couldn’t possibly spend time with him still. It wasn’t right, right?
Just as you were ready to give him your answer, your phone began to vibrate with an incoming call. You looked down at the screen and a picture of you and Miyoung displayed on the screen that had Jungkook huffing quietly and laying back down, close to giving up.
In all honesty, you weren’t in the mood to talk to her. It still bothered you by how harsh she was last night but there’s a chance she doesn’t even remember and… “Hello?”
“Tell me why I have a raging headache when I barely drank last night?” Miyoung said immediately once the call went through, “It’s your fault y’know for upsetting me.”
You couldn’t see her but she was walking on a treadmill in her apartment acting like everything was completely normal. Jungkook didn’t care for your conversation either but he was focused on the way you looked first thing in the morning.
You looked cute, undeniably cute with circles under your eyes and a disheveled appearance. You wore an oversized shirt of his so you wouldn’t have to sleep in such uncomfortable clothes and he loved it. You looked good in his clothes.
Without thinking, he sat up and pressed his lips to yours in a short and surprising kiss. You flinched back with confusion, nearly dropping your phone in the process but he backed away with a small smile. You tried to glare at him but you couldn’t stop from smiling and it annoyed you when he placed a gentle kiss against your neck that made you feel flustered. You almost forgot you were on the phone when he leaned in for a kiss again and one you would surely grant.
“But I forgive you,” Miyoung said suddenly.
“What?”
“I forgive you, I’m over it,” Miyoung said with a shrug you couldn’t see, “Our friendship means more to me than Jungkook and I know you would never do anything that you know would upset me so… it’s whatever. In the past.”
“Wait,” You held up a hand to Jungkook as you said it to the both of them, “When did I apologize?”
He stopped immediately, looking at you with concern as Miyoung went on, “I mean, we both know you were going to. I’m just letting you know it’s alright.”
“No, Miyoung, I wasn’t going to,” you couldn’t help but scoff, “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Technically.
Jungkook raised his brows, surprised by your tone and a little turned on? Was that okay to say?
“I didn’t mean it like that, but you know… you were flirting with the guy who dumped me,” Miyoung said, “It’s fine, whatever, you want to flirt with Jungkook, I don’t care anymore I just thought I meant more to you as a friend.”
You didn’t say anything for a moment as you looked down at Jungkook who couldn’t seem to go more than a minute without attention. He had your free hand in his measuring your size difference and you released a sigh, “You know what, I’m kind of busy right now so I’ll call you later.”
Miyoung wasn’t able to get a word in before you ended the call, turning your attention to Jungkook, “You’re getting me in trouble, sir.”
“I’m terribly sorry,” he said, biting back a grin, “How should I make it up to you? Brunch?”
“You’re still thinking about that?” You asked with a slight laugh.
It was strange trying not to let your best friend’s feelings bring you down too.
“I’m hungry,” Jungkook said, hand on his toned stomach for detail.
“I don’t have clothes or, I don’t know, a toothbrush,” you couldn’t help but sound sarcastic, falling back on the bed with an arm on his chest.
“Don’t worry, I got you.”
In the end you caved to his incessant begging and found yourself dressed as casual as ever with an oversized tee and the skirt you wore last night clashing horribly. The only thing that had you regretting it was what stood [parked] in front of you.
“You’re not serious, are you?” You asked as you watched him walk up to you with a helmet in his hands, “I can’t get on that.”
“You can,” Jungkook said, putting it over your head, “I’m a very safe driver.”
“What about your car?” You asked nervously as he buckled[?] you into the head gear, “Can’t we just go in that.”
“We can but that won’t impress you,” Jungkook snorted a laugh as he got his own helmet on, “Come on Y/n, I won’t kill you, don’t worry.”
With a small sigh you nodded, letting him lead you to the bike and he swung a leg over to straddle it and patted the seat right behind him. Frankly, you didn’t care that you were in a skirt. You know that there’s an appropriate way for people in skirts to straddle something but you cared more about living so you straddled it the way he did. Jungkook couldn’t help but smile as he felt the softer touch of your hands on his waist and without saying a word, he pulled you into him suddenly. Your chest was pressed to his back and your arms snug around his waist.
“Atta girl, no time to be shy now,” he chuckled, feeling you smack his arm playfully.
If he were being honest, he liked this side of you. He’s never seen it before and it was breathtaking and enjoyable. Before when you were just classmates you were still stand offish from him and the only night he got you to open up was the first time he ran into you and met Miyoung. It was short lived and once he dated her, he rarely got to see you alone.
When he got back, you would barely even look at him yet whatever spurred last night’s events seemed to open up new possibilities for you two. You haven’t talked about what happened but he’s expecting it almost excitedly.
Jungkook’s hand ran up your thighs, securing you to him as he started up the motorcycle, feeling the smoothness of your leg and teasing the end of your skirt with a small tug, “Ready?”
He felt you squeeze harder before taking off.
The cafe was small and filled with warmth making this feel oddly close to a date… which is probably because it was? You’re still not sure how to take it.
“Did I really get you in trouble?” Jungkook asked as he cut his breakfast sandwich in half before doing the same with yours. When you looked at him he looked concerned by the notion. You didn’t have to ask to know what he was referring to and you couldn’t help but sigh, “Not really, sorry, it was more my fault than any—“
“Why though?” Jungkook cut you off, “Why is it always your fault? You can’t talk to me now?”
“You know we didn’t just talk,” you bit your lip nervously. You couldn’t meet his gaze and he didn’t like that.
He huffed in annoyance, “But she doesn’t know, or does she? I mean, what does it matter?”
“You dated. She’s my best friend and it bothers her, I already feel guilty for what happened last night—not that I regret it, don’t get me wrong but… well, it’s just confusing and it upsets her,” You rambled, still defending Miyoung even when she was slowly getting under your skin.
“We dated so long ago, it was such a short fling,” Jungkook said with a laugh as he went back to eating, “And she dumped me so why does it matter if you and I get together?”
“I don’t know, I just… she’s my best frie—wait, what did you say?” You met his stare suddenly making him set down his coffee cup to answer.
“She dumped me so why can’t you and I…” he stopped. Did you mean for him to repeat the part about being with you? Did you want him to say it again, maybe use the right words this time?
Why is he saying Miyoung dumped him? You remember the day exactly.
Miyoung called you while you were studying in the library late one night, not fully in tears but clearly under duress and she couldn’t stop herself from letting her emotions get to her. She went on to tell you how Jungkook dumped her suddenly over a phone call because he wasn’t interested anymore and was just using her or something.
You remember because you left the library to go comfort her and you almost ran into him on campus and he wouldn’t even look you in the eye…
He dumped her because he got bored, that’s why she asked you to stop talking to him. He was just like every other guy according to her and you owed her the promise to avoid him. It was you who introduced them anyway and…
Why is it that any guy you’ve ever thought you’ve liked would fall for her instead, only to dump her and in return make her ask you to not speak to them again?
Jungkook wasn’t the first so when she asked you to avoid him, it bothered you a little but you soon got over it and did as told.
You always do as told without questioning it.
“You broke up with her.”
He chuckled, shaking his head no, “I was going to but she beat me to it. I don’t know how honest you want me to be this early in the day.”
“Tell me,” you urged him on.
“I wanted to break up with her but I had this sick feeling that I wasn’t going to be able to talk to you as much anymore or it would be awkward so I stuck it out,” Jungkook said it with a shrug, “But then she dumped me and suddenly you won’t even look at me so it was worse for me, I guess.”
Your eyebrows stitched together with confusion, “What are you saying? Why did you care if I talked to you or not? You went for Miyoung the second you met her—“
“That’s not true, actually,” Jungkook confessed, deciding if you wanted honesty he would give it even if it embarrassed him, “I wanted you.”
“And when I met her, I was obviously there at the bar trying to talk to you but she kept butting in and next thing I know, you were off talking to Yoongi and ignoring me,” Jungkook went on, “To be honest, I was kind of insecure back then, like really insecure and I was trying to get you to notice me but everytime someone would cu—“
“Jungkook, stop, I just… no, you did not like me, you dated Miyoung,” You cut him off, fidgeting in your seat anxiously, “It’s fine, it’s in the past.”
“No it’s not fine and I asked how honest you wanted me to be and you told me to tell you so I’m going to,” Jungkook said more seriously, “I was insecure, alright? I had just moved to the city and I shared class with this pretty, incredibly smart girl who would barely give me any time of day. Honestly it was kind of depressing, I was kinda depressed at the time and I needed a boost to talk to you so I asked Miyoung and… she said you were into someone else so I was pretty bummed out. Then she’s kind of just everywhere and she actually tries to talk to me so when she asks me out, I say yes but I realize I still have to see you.”
“And I liked being around you even though I probably shouldn’t have because technically I was dating her at this point and I realized that I practically screwed up whatever chance I might have had with you,” Jungkook couldn’t stop himself anymore. He was saying whatever was on his mind, barely giving you time to process any of it before continuing, “Yes, I know it’s fucked up because whenever I thought it might work and I might catch real feelings for her, you would came around and they just went out the window. So it was getting harder and harder to keep pretending and I wanted to break up with her but I was worried you wouldn’t talk to me anymore.”
“She beat me to it and dumped me because she was bored and I was relieved, honestly, but then I see you on campus and you can’t even look at me anymore,” Jungkook cleared his throat, “Then life went on, I moved away, moved back, ran into you again and…”
“And what?” You asked breathlessly, lips dry and completely frozen in your seat.
He looked at you warmly, “I found you, everything just came back and I knew I didn’t want to lose you a second time. I wanted to ask you out the first night at the bar but you didn’t even want to talk to me so I tried again last night and you were so ready to blow me off when Miyoung came along. I don’t know what made you come back to the party and I don’t want you thinking I’m some sleazy guy who acts like that with just anyone. I was just… it was unexpected and I had been waiting years for something to happen between us.”
Suddenly, this didn’t feel like an easy brunch inside a warm and cozy cafe anymore. In all honesty, it felt a little suffocating now and you don’t know how to explain it, but you didn’t want to be here. So much has just been thrown at you and you don’t think you can handle it all.
What did he mean that he liked you first?
Why had Miyoung told him you were into someone else? You learned to stop sharing who you liked with her so long ago and had never once told her anything like that in school. Why couldn’t she just have asked you? Why did she ask him out after he made it known he wanted you?
You don’t care that he said yes, that really was in the past for you. Now you’re more focused on why someone who was supposed to be your best friend would act so sneaky? What did she gain from it?
Why did she lie and say he dumped her? Was it just so she can paint him as a villain and make you not want to talk to him anymore? Why would she do that?
“Y/n?” He called your name waiting for you to respond to him but you just sat there stunned, “I’m sorry, I know I was a piece of shit for dating her when I wanted you bu—Y/n.”
Your mind is filled with questions that you couldn’t answer and it was overwhelming. The cafe felt suddenly overwhelming and you just had to get out of there, so you did.
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“Earth to Y/n, I don’t know how long you plan on ignoring the world but I know you’re not too busy with work to ignore your friends.”
Tacky, Taehyung was so very tacky leaving a concerning voicemail. Who left voicemails these days?
And he was being dramatic, he’s acting like you’ve fallen off the face of the Earth but that’s not true. You’ve just been holed up at either the office or your home for the past week, avoiding any call or text from anyone so you could be alone with your thoughts.
Alright it’s been over a week, almost two and maybe it is a little concerning but you’re telling yourself you’re just being dramatic.
“Y/n you better open the door before I break it down,” Taehyung’s muffled voice boomed from the other side of your front door and you begrudgingly went to let him in.
“Relax, I’m not dead,” You muttered under your breath as you let him in.
“Damn near!” Taehyung said loudly as he let himself through the door, “What is up with you? You haven’t responded to any text I was beginning to get worried.”
“Sorry,” you mumbled as you flopped down onto your couch, “I’ve just been tired.”
“Too tired to answer the phone?” Taehyung asked sitting down next to you, “Miyoung, I get. Ignore her all you want but me? What did I ever do to you? What’s up with you? I haven’t talked to you since the party. Did something happen?”
With a small sigh, you let your head rest against the back of the couch, “I slept with Jungkook.”
“Really?” Taehyung seemed genuinely surprised, “So fallout with Miyoung I’m assuming? Look, I personally don’t get why you try to make her happy but she’ll get over it. Did you like it? Like him?”
“Yes, I don’t know, I’m confused, I don’t know what to believe anymore,” you admitted, “And I feel so dumb because this shouldn’t be a big deal.”
“Alright well I need you to rewind and explain things better so my pea brain can handle it,” Taehyung made himself comfortable, “You’ve gone Ghost for over a week, I want to know why. Was it because of Jungkook? Miyoung? If you think sleeping with him makes you a bad friend the—“
“She’s a liar,” you cut in, “And it shouldn’t bother me so much because she’s my best friend but that’s why it bothers me, Tae. I’ve known her for so long, and I’ve always tried to be a good friend to her but it was never enough. So I tried harder and harder because who else would be there for me like her but… now that I’m looking back on it, I don’t think she’s ever cared about me as much as I care about her and it sucks, honestly.”
Taehyung wanted to tell you so many people cared about you but he wanted you to say whatever you needed to say first.
“You know what Jungkook said? He said Miyoung knew he apparently liked me before and still asked him out—and lied about how I felt about him,” You said, “And okay, why would I fight over a guy with my best friend but now that I’m thinking about it… it’s fucked up right? She lied that he dumped her and begged me to avoid him. You saw how she acted the other night just because he talked to me. What was that about?”
You weren’t going to go into full detail about the past because you owed Jungkook enough to not tell Taehyung about everything he said but he needed context.
“And I know it’s in the past so I should just move on but I can’t,” You admitted, “I still like him but if I… I get with him Miyoung would never let me forget that she dated him first, even if he liked me. It’s just all so confusing and overwhelming and it sucks that I’m letting it get to me like this but… it’s not fair.”
Once again, Taehyung didn’t say anything but he could tell you were feeling emotional by the way your voice began to shake.
“I like him, and not in the way I liked him before but I like this new him too, and it’s not fair that even if she lied or even if she snaps at me about shit that doesn’t matter, I will still feel guilty,” You finished.
“Y/n,” Taehyung cleared his throat, “Obviously I don’t know everything that happened back then but… I think that if you feel for him what he feels for you, it shouldn’t matter what she says. And honestly, I just… I wish you could see that there are so many people who care about you so much and you don’t have to put up with being belittled by someone who is supposed to be your best friend just because you have history. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the past, if it’s upsetting you now then clearly it still matters so don’t try to downplay your emotions.”
“But she’s my best friend,” your lip quivered.
“Then what am I?” He forced his lip to quiver as well.
“You’re my best friend too,” you sniffled.
Taehyung mimicked your expression, “Then as your best friend, I’m telling you to stop trying to make excuses for people who don’t treat you right—and go fix it with this guy.”
“Bu—“
“Y/n, I know you,” Taehyung sighed, “And I know that you’re not going to do anything if you think it upsets her but she doesn’t deserve a friend like you. You deserve to go be with whoever you want. I don’t care about what she says and at this point neither should you. I know that right now it’s confusing and you’re overwhelmed but if you’ve been ignoring me you’ve been ignoring him—I hope because if it’s just me that’s cold—and if the girl I had feelings for ghosted me… I’d be hurt.”
Jungkook was not hurt. He was… y'know, perfectly fine and that’s what he kept telling himself. It’s not like you made any real sign of feeling something for him too after hooking up and maybe that had just been a casual, one time thing. He can handle that, he’s grown.
Sure, he sort of spilled his damn heart out to you just for you to storm off on him and not reach out to him in days but he’s not bothered by it at all. That’s why when his two closest friends called Saturday night asking him to go clubbing… he said yes.
It was a chance to possibly let it go, forget it even, but it wasn’t easy. He was aware that he was possibly reading too into what happened the other night but could you blame him? You’re suddenly all about him and spend the night at his place where you wake up in his arms before going out to eat. It was like the perfect set up for a what if yet it went all wrong. Clearly it was his fault for being hopeful.
“So who else did you say is meeting us here?” Jungkook asked Hoseok for confirmation as he passed him a drink. The music played loudly in his eardrums that it was borderline painful and he wanted to leave more than anything but there was that stupid what if in his head.
“Jimin’s joining later on and so is Namjoon and his girl,” Hoseok said as he made sure everyone else had what they ordered, “Oh, and Y/n too, I think.”
“Y/n?” Jungkook tried clarifying. Hoseok smiled, “I know, it’s weird, Y/n seriously rarely comes out but all of a sudden she’s starting to more. I mean, lately she has, probably since around the time you got back?”
Jungkook let his friend go off to do whatever he wanted while he stood there seemingly frozen. Tonight would be the first time in days that he sees you—talks to you—and he’s not sure how to handle it. There’s nothing he can do about it either because he hasn’t confided in anyone yet but it’s painfully obvious that he’s waiting for you.
Yoongi noticed first, like he usually did, and tried talking to him, “What’s up with you? You’ve been antsy since the party, will you finally tell me where you ran off to?”
“Yeah man, don’t think we didn’t notice when you disappeared,” Jin said with a slight wink, “We just want to know with who.”
“Y/n.”
He could see you from the corner of his eye when you joined them at a table they had found. You came with Jimin by your side and a shy smile on your face. He assumed it was Hoseok who had screamed your name considering how he hogged your attention with a huge grin and Jungkook felt nervous all of a sudden.
As embarrassing as it was, Jungkook had nearly forgotten what he was asked until he looked back at Yoongi and Jin who looked at him expectantly. A nervous laugh escaped his lips as he shrugged, “Did you guys miss me too much?”
“Sneaky guy, don’t change the subject,” Jin laughed before letting Jungkook shift his attention back to you, making it painfully obvious where he was focused.
You felt a little nervous to be out tonight but after what you had talked about with Taehyung, you knew he was right. You acted strange with Jungkook after he opened up his side of things to you and it was plain wrong. Part of you isn’t even sure if he’s actually interested or not since he didn’t reach out to you this week and it made you wonder if he was really upset.
And if he was, would that mean that he didn’t want to speak to you?
“I need a drink,” you mumbled to yourself more than to the others but it made a good excuse to at least try. You looked at Jungkook for the first time since you got there and cleared your throat to awkwardly ask, “Jungkook, do you mind going with me?”
“Get me another, will ya?” Yoongi asked with a sudden wink that made Jungkook do a double take. Was he winking over the drink or him leaving with you?
He nodded his head in response and without question followed you to the bar once more. The bar was packed from all sides and Jungkook had to fight his way to the counter working as a barrier from people pushing at you. If he were to be honest, he wanted to skip the questions and get close to you again but he had to stay strong. He needed answers, right?
“Are we good?” Was the only thing he could think to ask.
You looked at him warmly, sitting down on the stool at the counter with him standing close to you, his hand itching to reach for you. Your lip caught between your teeth as you nodded, “Are we?”
For some reason he didn’t expect to be asked that back. It made him wonder if he thought you were. It was undeniably embarrassing to have you walk out on him like that after he thought it had been going good but did that mean he was truly upset with you?
“Yeah,” he nodded stiffly, blinking nervously and looking to the bartender who noticed them a while ago but had to attend to earlier customers first, “But uh, I guess I am just a little confused by it all. Did I do something to upset you? Was it what I said?”
“No, no, I’m sorry, it wasn’t you,” You blurted out, “It was me, I wasn’t thinking straight and I feel really bad about leaving like that.”
“Then why didn’t you just call or even text me?” Jungkook asked honestly, “I… I think that’s what bothered me the most.”
You looked down at your hands, “I'm sorry. I didn’t talk to anyone, seriously, and I did think about reaching out to you but I don’t know, I’m really bad at explaining things.”
“Well can you try? I know it was sudden but I thought it had been going good,” Jungkook said and the longer he tried getting to the bottom of this, the more annoyed he felt that you couldn’t just say it, “I think I’ve made it clear now how I feel about you and all I’m asking is for you to do the same.”
“I—yes,” you stumbled over your words, “I mean, I’m trying to be clear now but I’m doing a shit job at it. I did have a good time with you but it was honestly, really out of character for me to yknow… and then the whole Miyoung thing and I’m sorry but it was just a lot all at once. It’s definitely not fair to you that I acted that way, but I do have feelings for you.”
He let out a sigh, feeling unsure how to take it and stuck between wanting to smile in relief and wanting to be upset. You didn’t text him, nothing. How is that fair? He wanted to reach out to you but after the way you left he thought he would just make it worse if he kept bothering you. The bartender finally got to you two and he let you speak first as he tried gathering his thoughts a little more.
“But what does this mean?” Jungkook asked now, “I want you and you want me, right? So, what does this mean Y/n because right now I’m still confused by it all. If it’s because of Miyoung then—“
“No, it’s not, honestly,” You said, reaching for him, pinching the bottom of his shirt between your fingers to pull him toward you, “I don't care what she thinks anymore, I like you and I should have just said that from the beginning.”
The pull was harsh and had him looking down with his lips slightly parted in surprise, “Y/n, you’re not being fair.”
You knew it. You knew you probably ruined your chance now and coming to see him had just been a waste. You nearly let go of him when he continued, “You can’t ignore me and walk out on me and then just tell me you want me too, expecting everything to be fine.”
He had to be tough. He can’t just let it go even though you’re saying everything he wants to hear.
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” you said with a slight frown, “I can leave if you want me to.”
“Ugh,” he groaned, unable to help himself anymore as he closed the distance between you two. He circled an arm around you and pulled you into a hug, “Why would I want you to leave when I’ve been waiting for you to get here?”
“What?” You asked, hands finding his waist as he held you, “I thought you were mad.”
“I was,” Jungkook said, “So you don’t know how annoyed I am with myself right now. All it takes is for you to sweet talk me a bit and give me those eyes of yours for me to fold, that’s embarrassing.”
“Jungkook,” you said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have walked out like that. I should have texted you and if you want to be mad, I get it. If you want to think it over an—“
“And what if I don’t?” He asked looking down at your pouty lips and glossy eyes, “What if I just want to let it go and be with you without any more problems? Can I do that?”
His tone was surprisingly firm and you couldn’t do anything but nod, “Okay.”
It didn’t change the fact that you still felt bad because it seemed like you were being let off the hook easily but what else could you do? Jungkook really did seem ready to move past it and that’s why you came here in the first place. You just hadn’t expected it to be so easy and it made you feel bad.
When your drinks were ready, you opened up a tab despite his protests to just put it on his and the two of you got back to the group like nothing had happened. There was still a lot that needed to be talked about before you told anyone about what happened but it’s not like they were all oblivious.
Jimin, for instance, had been keeping an eye on you two at the bar since you left and had seen the majority of your conversation but he didn’t bring it up. Instead he watched silently for your little glances in each other’s direction and shy smiles. It was obvious to Yoongi too that Jungkook was in a much better mood now than earlier and it wasn’t hard for him to figure out why.
Perhaps for the same reason you had suddenly started joining them more often, being more comfortable too.
It had been a slow start for the two of you after the night at the club. Neither one of you seemed to want to rush into things but at times there was a strong pull. Tonight was going to be your first official date but you were keeping that information to your friends until you figure out if this works or not.
Jungkook picked you up from your apartment and drove to a nice restaurant where the two of you sat for dinner. He was very attentive to you, making sure your glass was always full and all your needs met and it was a surprisingly good feeling to be taken care of this way. You’ve dated in the past but you can’t say you’ve always chosen the right ones. You had a tendency to lean toward the ones who were overly forward with you because in your mind there was no doubt they liked you.
At first it would be nice but then you would realize that it was more of a conquering feeling to them than actually wanting to be with you and you would be left heartbroken. That’s part of why you rarely put yourself out there.
Jungkook is different though, he always has been. When you first met him he was forward but aloof. You never expected him to actually like you because you couldn’t see the signs clearly and the way things turned out it just never worked. Now that he’s been back he’s almost like an entirely different person in the sense that he’s ready to go for what he wants and it’s sort of admirable.
If you had been able to do that back then maybe you would have had him sooner but there was no point in dwelling in the past. He was here now and so were you. Honestly, knowing that there's something that’s been brewing between you two for a long time made it easier to feel confident around him.
“Why are you so pretty?” Jungkook couldn’t help but ask even if his mouth was full. He was trying not to smile too as he said that.
“Oh my god,” You felt your face heat up, tempted to hide behind your hand. It took you a moment to think of a response and it was surprising for the both of you to hear you say, “Why are you?”
Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly in hopes of not seeming too affected by your words. It didn’t work and he broke out into a grin, “I wasn’t expecting that.”
Dinner was filled with small flirting here and there. It’s crazy how well you and him seemed to get along when you stopped worry about other things. He made you smile, really smile and you made him feel giddy whenever he talked to you. He wanted to spend his night with you and nobody else.
“Are we going to meet with everyone else after this?” You asked as he pulled your chair out for you and you got up from the table. After some back and forth arguing, he eventually took care of the bill despite your protests and the night felt near its finish much to your disappointment.
It was the weekend and you’ve been trying to go out with your friends more and they had asked to meet up later—but both you and Jungkook had to tell them maybe.
“Do we have to?” He asked, taking your bag in one hand and holding yours with the other, “You think they’ll get a little suspicious if we’re both gone?”
You walked with him across the restaurant toward the entrance. You weren’t paying much attention to the people you passed, “I’m sure they know.”
Your response surprised him a bit and he couldn’t help but ask, “Really? Has it been that obvious?”
“Yeah, Jimin called me out on it the other night,” you shrugged, reaching for your bag to look for chapstick while he led you to the front. You couldn’t meet his eyes because you sensed where this was going.
“What’d he say?” Jungkook asked slowing his pace for you.
You blinked nervously, distracting yourself with your lipbalm as you tried sounding casual, “He asked why we were being so sneaky at the bar.”
Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly, opening the door for you as he said, “Damn, what did you say?”
“I said because we’re together.”
You tried being slick about it and slide past him without much attention but it was useless. He stood in front of you with a smile on his face, “Oh, we are? I don’t remember you clarifying that. Can you remind me when you asked me to be your man?”
“Oh god, don’t act like that,” you whined shyly.
“I’m sorry baby, I gotta hear you say it with your own words. What’d you tell him?” Jungkook blocked your path, hands finding your waist and keeping you from running. He liked making you flustered and you had no idea how you left him with a racing heart.
You pouted, looking at him seriously, “Jungkook.”
The two of you stood outside the restaurant looking like a playful couple that maybe had one too many drinks but it was all Jungkook’s fault. He wouldn’t let it go to rest and even had the nerve to smirk as he teasingly said, “That’s not how you say ‘Boyfriend’.”
“You’re ridiculous, we talked about this,” you said, focused on his chest to hide your embarrassment.
Jungkook just grinned mischievously, “What did you tell him?”
“I said you were my boyfriend,” you mumbled into his chest.
“Your what?” He asked trying to step back and get a good look at your face, “Come on baby, don’t get shy on me now.”
You whined, “Jung—“
“Your what?” He was laughing now, not caring for whoever might pass them and stare because he felt good. Too good to be affected by a stranger’s judgement.
“My boyfriend,” you sighed with embarrassment, “You heard me the first time, goof.”
“That’s what I thought, alright, you ready to go?” He asked with a chuckled as he took your hand in his ready to walk with you to the car.
“Y/n?”
You both stopped in your step, wondering if it really was your name you had heard. You looked back toward the rest, eyes threatening to widen with surprise as you looked at the person who stood at the entrance. She was with a group of people all headed inside but when she saw you, she stopped.
“Miyoung, hey,” You cleared your throat awkwardly, your demeanor changing completely.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” She asked as her eyes trailed behind you where Jungkook was looking at you with worry and confusion. He wanted to make sure everything would be alright, knowing how Miyoung would react. He didn’t want your good night to be ruined over something petty.
“What do you mean? I’m uh, I was just having dinner,” you said stiffly, looking back at Jungkook which proved to be a mistake because it seemed to solidify his presence to her.
“With jungkook?” She asked with a snappy tone. Miyoung shooed away her friends, telling them to go in without her as she approached you.
“Yeah.”
“Why?” Her brow arched with amusement, clearly ticked off and in disbelief by what she saw before her. Like usual, the situation seemed much worse than it really was.
It was time for you to be up front. What’s the point in putting yourself out there and letting yourself open up to him if you wouldn’t have the courage to make it known? You swallowed dryly, “Because we’re… dating.”
Jungkook had stepped back from the situation, not wanting to worsen it so he stood off by a light post not too far for a smoke break. He tried distracting himself with lighting his cigarette but he couldn’t help but freeze up when you said that. It brought a shy smile to his face as he waited for you to finish.
“No, you’re not,” Miyoung scoffed looking back at Jungkook as if betrayed by him too. You blinked with confusion, what did she mean you’re not? Did she expect you to be joking or back down? “We are.”
Miyoung stood in front of you now, slightly taller, “Y/n, you’ve been ignoring me for weeks and now you’re saying you’re dating my ex boyfriend? What kind of friend are you?”
This time it was you who scoffed lightly, looking away from her to try and process what you would say but you had spent too much time already trying to think it over, “The thing is, um, I’ve been kind of wondering the same about you.”
“Me?” She looked down at you genuinely taken back, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat and tried to gather the courage to just say it. You could feel Jungkook around, listening but giving you space and it was like a push start for you to say what was really on your mind, “I’m just tired of feeling like I’m the only one who puts effort into being friends and I don’t see the point in always fighting. We’re not together, we don’t have to be friends if it always has to be some sort of argument. It’s getting tiring at this point and I think maybe it’s best we just distance ourselves from each other.”
“You’re kidding, right? I’m like the only person who really cares about you, Y/n. Don’t act stupid.”
Although that made Jungkook want to intervene and tell her how very wrong she was, he didn’t. He didn’t want to speak for you. He knew you could speak for yourself and he should let you, even if he was itching to cut in.
“No, I don’t think you are. I know you think you are so you always tell me you are, but you’re not. People like me for me and not just because I’m friends with you,” you said coldly and your tone was definitive it left her speechless. It had to be one of the first times you were ever remotely close to snappy with her and she didn’t expect it.
“I know it’s hard for you to think of me as my own person but I don’t have to do what you want,” You said, “And I think you only boss me around and act sneaky behind my back because you’re threatened by me.”
She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. What you said left her rendered quiet. You waited too, waited to see if she would tell you to stand down but she didn’t and you didn’t give her time too, “ But I think I should go, I don’t want to bother your dinner any longer—and uh, maybe we just shouldn’t contact each other anymore.”
Jungkook had forgotten about his smoke break, jaw nearly to the floor at how confident you sounded. It was obvious you had never spoken to Miyoung that way but she couldn’t even deny what you said. You did it so casually and like you couldn’t care less which made you seem mature compared to Miyoung’s tantrums.
“Why was that kind of hot?” Jungkook asked as you finally reached him under the light post. Miyoung had stormed off with an evil glare that he ignored telling you how “You’re done”.
He looked down at you with hazed eyes, amazed and enamored. You scrunch your face curiously, “What was?”
“You, right now,” He chuckled, reaching for your hand in his, “Kind of scary too. Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
“You’re exaggerating,” you tried to laugh it off, “I wasn’t mean, was I?”
It was so dumb of you to still be worried about it but you couldn’t help it.
“No, you were calm and casual but that was so scary,” Jungkook gasped dramatically, “Because I know you were mad at her—… it was mean but only a little and so very very hot, and you’re doing all this in that dress…”
Without meaning to be, Jungkook was sort of like your hype man. You were worried about being too harsh, you still are, but he made you feel better about it. Part of you will never not feel in the wrong for being with Jungkook but you’ve gotten the rest off your chest and it felt good. Maybe you were a bit mean or maybe you weren’t, you could never be entirely sure but Jungkook seemed to be on your side no matter what.
“You like my dress?” You asked him with a teasing smile as he held the car door open for you.
“I really do,” he played with his lip ring, looking down at you.
“Then take it off me.”
“Oh fuck,” Jungkook whispered to himself as he looked around the parking lot, “Here?”
You broke out into a laugh as you sat down. Your words got to him easier than you thought and he sighed, “You can’t say that shit to me, Y/n. I’ll actually do it.”
“Let’s go back to my place and see if you can keep your word then,” you told him, watching him close the door with a tense jaw just thinking about it.
You can’t do this to him. You can’t be shy and cute one second and then act like that. You can’t. That’s not fair to him. How is he supposed to not be affected when you say things that get his heart racing while looking so cute? Was this what it would be like dating you? Just constantly caught by surprise?
He did like the way you stood up for yourself. He liked that you spoke your mind more freely than before and he takes joy in hearing you flirt back. In the beginning it felt like he was the one always trying to get you to talk to him or notice him and now you’re saying things that make his head dizzy.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, yknow?” Jungkook asked after the painfully long car ride back to your apartment. He was removing his coat as you sat on the edge of your bed to undo your shoes.
You let out an amused laugh, “What do you mean?”
“I mean… you act all shy and innocent and then you say shit that…” Jungkook let out a groan, “I can’t explain it, you just drive me crazy.”
“In a good way or bad way?” You asked, following him with your eyes as he closed the space between you two until he was at the end of the bed standing in front of you.
“A good way,” he said softly, “I’m finding more sides of you I’ve never seen.”
“And you like it?” You asked shyly, feeling his hands curl around your jaw.
“I do, a lot,” he confessed brushing his lips against yours, “I don't know what I would’ve done if I lost my chance with you again.”
::.
NO PART TWO
oml yall this took me forever to come up with 😭 I went through at least six other ideas before deciding on this one and I can’t tell how happy I am with it yet but I tried my hardest not the disappoint 🥹 I miss being more active and taking to you all but life has been so busy lately
please let me know how you feel and I promise I’ll try to be more active 🫶🏽
permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @skzthinker @unnatae @beautywine @lilliankoo @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @dream-cvtcher @jksjx @kissyfacekoo @joyjunk @caro134340lina @hyunjinswifeee @oldermenluverrr @caro134340lina @olivialeesstuff [taglist is too long so I’ll have to make two versions of it]
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qqueenofhades · 2 months
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https://www.tumblr.com/qqueenofhades/743255237060689920/the-thing-that-confuses-me-about-the-dont-vote
The “don’t vote” left’s point is basically that, if Biden gets a second term, it’ll basically signal that “They’ll vote for us as long as we’re not Republicans, why don’t we do some REAL fucked up shit, if we can get away with it?” It takes the power out of the people’s hands and places it firmly in the party’s.
I can’t completely disagree with that, my caveat is that there’s no real alternative system or party in place, because top-down change is ineffective; a third party president has to contend with a two party congress.
Except no. This whole "Biden just wants to do as much fucked up shit as possible while not being a Republican, and if you give him a second term he'll do more fucked up shit deliberately to spite you" mindset is only possible as an interpretation if you a) deliberately and comprehensively ignore everything he has done to date, and b) you approach the situation with the maximum bad faith possible. Not to mention, the ultimate outcome of this Big Important Teaching Biden A Lesson is that Trump gets back into power and makes everything orders of magnitude worse, because he does in fact want to deliberately do evil shit to everyone and says so at every opportunity. There is not some magical happy alternative that springs into existence by not voting. If you choose this as a year to Teach Biden A Lesson, you are enabling Trump. Trump will be much, much worse. If you don't care about that, I still do not care what your Great Ideology is. You are not helping anyone and you are directly and irreversibly hurting everyone.
I made a post a few days ago wherein I mentioned that I want to assess Biden fairly, taking into account both strengths and weaknesses, but the rampant bad-faith, lying, misreading, misrepresentation, and open sabotage of him (especially by the online left; the GOP sometimes only wishes they were as good at turning Biden's voter pool against him) makes it really difficult to do that. My frustration with those people makes me just want to go "BIDEN IS GREAT THE END." I know he is a flawed old man (though by literally every account of a career spent in public service, he really does care about making the world a better place and any remotely good faith reading of his accomplishments thus far can see that). It is also very likely that he goes MORE left in a second term because he won't have to face the electorate again, he has always gone more left when pushed before, and he's not actually the scheming genocidal mastermind that leftist social media paints him as. Shocking, I know.
I know there are things in the world we don't like and don't want and want to stop, and therefore we blame our own president for not making it stop. But I have zero, no, none, absolutely none whatsoever sympathy for this pseudo-populist "WE NEED TO TEACH BIDEN A LESSON BY ELECTING TRUMP AGAIN, I AM VERY MORAL MUCH ACTIVIST" mindset. There's this funny thing about America wherein it is still (for now) a democracy. If Biden wins a second term, he can't run again. I would take literally anything these people said more seriously if they focused on developing their dream progressive successor for 2028 (and also figured out how to get that person elected and in a place to make real change) rather than cynically sabotaging Biden in the most consequential election year, again, of our lifetimes. If you don't like him now, find a way to make his successor a better option. Throwing a toddler tantrum and handing the country back to a senile, deranged, fascist, revenge-riddled, theocratic Trump HELPS. NOBODY. I still don't know how many times I'm going to have to say that, but yeah.
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