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celestie0 · 11 days

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gojo satoru x reader | oneshot angst [18+]

title. let me be free of you

He would live in this lifetime of hell over and over again if it meant that in some other one, there exists a world where he never hurts you.

ᰔ pairing. friends to strangers au - best friend!gojo x reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru, your love of a lifetime, tells you he’s engaged to another woman. inspired by the novel & netflix series “one day” created by david nicholls

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem!reader, angst, mentions of sex/explicit content, coming of age themes, reader & gojo are in their 30s, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of alcohol, cheating, lots of mutual pining & longing, bittersweet ending

ᰔ word count. 4.8k

a/n. hellooo! i've had this finished in my wips folder for a long time but never got around to posting it sooo just wanted to let it see the light of day haha. hope you enjoyyy <33

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“I’m engaged.”

The words leave Gojo’s lips as much less of a confession and more like a blabber, like a toddler desperate to keep conversation going in the face of a disinterested adult. Wasn’t how he expected to share the news of a lifetime to the love of his lifetime, but he hopes it breaks your heart to hear it.

He watches your eyebrows flatten from the crease that was bothering them before, and then slowly raise into soft arches above your eyes–those damn beautiful eyes that, even when they twinkle with hurt, still make his heart skip a beat in his chest.

He recalls for a moment the night the two of you met, drunk and dizzy from drinking out of a shared bottle of Prosecco, which only had half of the liquor left in it to start when he had first found it bleeding out to dry on the grassy lawn at the front of your university. It was graduation night, the last day to celebrate finishing four years of hell, and he had nothing to his name other than a rolled up diploma shoved in the pocket of his suit pants and the charm left in the youth of his smile. He wanted to spend the night with Aiko Rei, which was not a unique desire as most men on campus did, and he had a fair shot of getting into bed with her just like all those times before. But instead he was sitting at the top of a staircase inside the campus’s English literature building, making history in the crisp year of 1986 by being the first man of the robust age of twenty-three to pass up sex with the school’s lady heartthrob for–well, conversation with a sort of ditsy girl that he just met a half hour ago.

“What do you plan to do with your life?” he heard you ask him, a hard enough question to stomach when one is sober, and an impossible question to stomach when one is already trying not to puke flat Prosecco.

“Pardon?” he asked, in hopes to dissuade you from the question. In hopes that you’d get the hint. But you don’t. And he’d soon learn throughout the years of your friendship to come that you never did.

“Your life!” you exclaim, “we’re graduates now! What do you want to do with it?” You pat harshly at his thigh, closer to his groin than to his pocket, most likely because you’re tipsy too, but he realizes you’re referring to the rolled up paper protruding at the pocket.

Truthfully, Gojo had never thought much about what he wanted to do after graduation. Hell, he didn’t even think he’d make it this far. Not once since he got here, not once since he flunked out of first-year history, not once since his father passed away during his third-year final examinations, and most certainly not after he got caught having “unethical affairs” with his communications professor just two months ago. And yet the esteemed board of scholars decided he was fit for a diploma anyway, and now he’s answering to, effectively, a stranger what he plans to do with said piece of paper.

“I don’t know,” he says to you, “I’ll do whatever.”

Gojo Satoru could get by with doing whatever. He was good at everything he did. But his teachers and mentors and his own father would always warn him– son, it’s better to be an expert at one than a half-assed show-off in all. Well, they wouldn’t use the expletives, but that’s what it had sounded like in his head.

His dad would’ve liked you. He was always telling him to find a girl that challenges him, asks him the right questions, and pushes him to become a better man, the kind of woman his mother was to his father. Much opposed to the airheaded girls of Gojo’s college campus he would sneak into the house and forget to shoo off before sunrise, an occurrence that happened enough times for the respect in his father’s eyes to dwindle with each woman he’d watch his son dispel from their residence. Until eventually, Gojo started paying rent as punishment.

So, twenty-three year old Gojo, what do you plan to do with your life? Or do you have no idea of anything that extends beyond where you are right now, sitting across this strange girl you’ve just met on the death of your educational youth, at the top of a stairwell lined with passed out, drunk newly grads at nearly 4 in the morning? Right now, he’s eyeing the hem of your dress, the way it’s ridden up slightly but the mesh overskirt still tickles the skin of your thigh. He’s certainly able to picture what’s beyond that fabric, and maybe imagine the color of your panties, but what’s to come for his life? No. As previously mentioned, he never thought he’d get this far.

Gojo is thirty-four now, eleven years since that night the two of you met. And he sits next to you on a garden bench under a pitch black sky with stars speckled across, but only dimly visible.

It’s been years since he’s seen you. You two had a “falling out” at the cusp of thirty, almost a decade of friendship fizzled away, because of his selfish actions. He couldn’t let you go, but he couldn’t want you the way you wanted him either. He didn’t feel like he deserved to have you. You were too good for him, and he knew it. So he wasted a decade chasing after other women, and in return, he lost the one he knew he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with.

It’s the night of your college roommate‘s wedding, all gathered here today to celebrate their love, and he knew he’d run into you here. You were the bride’s maiden of honor, and you looked beautiful. With your hair half tied up, a pretty clip twinkling with every movement of your head, and with strands falling down over the smooth curve of your neck, bare skin of your chest tightly covered by the nude fabric of your dress. He was fully lusting after you, and he has been all night, the picture of beauty and grace, and it was wrong. Because, again, he’s–

“You’re engaged?” you finally break through his thoughts, break through the trance that he was lost in by the sea of your eyes. Forever pulling him in like you were a wicked siren for his soul, when all you’ve ever wanted from him was his love.

He shifts a little, the thick fabric of his navy blue suit stretching with the movement as he fidgets with his hands in his lap. He’s sitting close to you, his shoulder brushing against yours, the contrast of his broad masculinity so evident against the feminine curve of your bare arm, the thin strap holding up your dress threatening to fall down the hill. His thumb twitches, because he wants to pull it back up into place for you like a gentleman, but he’s not sure if that’s what his hand would actually do. Because all he really wants to do is peel the dress off of you.

“Yes,” he says, still tantalized by the glow of your skin under pale moonlight, “engaged.”

“To be married?”

“Well, what other kind of engaged is there?”

“You’re not allowed to get married.”

He snorts. “Says who?”

“Says me!” you exclaim, sitting up straighter, "I turn my back for one moment, and you've gone an got engaged? You're awful!" The strap of your dress falls down over your shoulder, his eyes immediately darting to it. He sees you pull the strap up back into place, and a flit of his eyes to your face reveals to him the slight dusting of an embarrassed pink to your cheeks.

There’s a silence that settles between the two of you. Distant commotion is heard, likely from the wedding venue as people engage in reception activities and dances and cheers, while the two of you remain in this garden escape, the wall of primly trimmed bushes sheltering you two from having to pretend to be people you’re not amongst a crowd.

“Aiko…” he hears you say beside him, and although the name of the woman that has rolled off your tongue is the name of the woman he’s supposed to love, it only makes him feel sick to his stomach to hear you say her name. “She seems lovely.”

“She is,” is all he can manage to say. And he also knows this seemingly lovely woman is probably drunk off her face back at the reception hall, giggling at all the men that approach her from the sight of her flushed face, and he should feel some sort of jealousy or possessiveness over that, but he can’t seem to muster any. Unlike the grit he had to his jaw an hour ago when he saw you dancing with a man he heard you introduce to your friends as just an “old friend” of yours from college. He felt more anger in that moment than he’d ever felt watching his soon-to-be-wife getting talked up to by the sleazy men twice her age.

“She must be very rich,” you say. “She looks it.”

“Oh. Yeah. Her family’s very well off,” Gojo says.

“So will you become rich too?” you ask him, “when you marry her.”

His eyes flit to the sky briefly. “Doubt it.”

“How come?”

“The old man doesn’t like me very much. I imagine he’ll cut ties after the wedding.”

“Her father?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“Well. I guess it’s not every father’s dream to find out his prim and proper daughter’s been knocked up by the good-for-nothing boyfriend he’s been threatening her to say good riddance to for months now.”

The silence finds the two of you again, but this time haunting and gutting. That was a blabber, if anything. So nonchalantly said, with no emotion or spirit, to the one person in this world who he’s always felt like he can be himself around.

“She’s pregnant?” you say beside him, voice breaking slightly at the end, and he can’t bear to look at you for some reason. Some sort of admission of guilt, but what for? What exactly was he repenting for?

He lets out a small laugh, like the absurdity of the situation finds him all the same. “Yeah.”

“That–” you start, stiff next to him, before he feels the tension relax but only rigidly, “that’s wonderful, Satoru. I’m–...I’m really happy for you.” You turn your torso to wrap your arms around him, and his lips brush the sweet skin on your forehead as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. He wraps one arm around you, a sort of friendly hug as he rubs the skin of your arm soothingly, and his heart aches from the emptiness when you release him.

“Wow…” you say, looking up at him with pretty eyes, eyelashes fluttering as you blink rapidly to process the information, and he wonders if you really are happy for him. He doesn’t want you to be. He wants you to be furious, to tell him off for getting another woman pregnant after leading you on for so many years, maybe he wants you to slap him, or grab him by the collar of his shirt and shake him until all he sees is a million of you through dizzy vision like some paradise. He wants you to be mad, because it’d mean that you still care. It’d mean that you still think there’s something here to salvage between the two of you.

But he’s engaged. And he’s having a baby. What was more final than that?

“So…are you marrying her because of–”

“The wedding is in four weeks,” he cuts you off, but he knows the statement answers your question regardless.

“Satoru…”

He leans off to the side a little to reach into the pocket of his suit pants, and he pulls out what is now a slightly bent envelope and he hands it to you. You take it from him gently, holding it weakly like it was something beyond you. Like something distant and foreign and strange. When all it was, is a wedding invitation.

“Listen…” he starts.

He sees your eyes dazed as you stare at the lettering on the outside of the envelope.

“We’ve been friends for a long time, y/n. And I know the last time we saw each other was–” Hostile. Angry. Disappointing. Ended with you cussing him out on the street and then saying you never want to see him again. “...not ideal, but I still care a lot about you, and, uh, so, it would mean a lot to me if you came to the wedding.” For fucks sake, even on the brink of losing you forever, he still can’t find the right words to say. “Aiko, she–” He tastes bitter in his mouth, “well, I’ve told her a lot about you, and she’d really love it if you came as well.”

You’re silent as you gently peel back the opening of the letter and then pull out the small card stock invitation. The gold printed letters shine as you inspect it, fingers tracing the patterns of words that profess the Rei family’s intent to wed their daughter to Gojo Satoru. Your Gojo Satoru. Your best friend in this whole wide world. He watches your eyes carefully, but he can’t discern what he finds in them.

“Gojo Satoru…” you drone off, “to be wed. And to be a father.” Years of late night talks of the future, of kids and Christmas and love, with reality seemingly sly on the horizon only to have crept up so abruptly. It was pinched between your fingers right now. That reality.

His shoulders sulk slightly. And when you look up at him again, there’s a sheen of tears in your eyes.

“I can’t come to this,” you whisper, “and you know that, Satoru.”

His heart breaks. A physical pain that twists in his chest so tight at just the sight of seeing you sad. Sad again over the actions of his own. They say you always hurt the one you love, and he had always wondered what sort of evil person would do such a thing, only to find out he’s only ever hurt you this entire time.

He should’ve kissed you that night the two of you met at graduation. Should’ve shut you up and all your existential questions by pinning you to a wall and pressing his lips against yours. He should’ve taken you to bed and fucked you, and then held you in his arms until you woke up in the morning. Should’ve listened to you talk his ear off about how he’s just like all the other guys, who pretend to care, but only want to have sex and then never to speak to the girl ever again. And he should’ve laid there in bed, nose nuzzled in your hair, taking all the scolding despite having no intent to ever leave you.

Instead, he wasted so much time. Sure, he had your friendship. His best friend for years, but the two of you could’ve been something more. Could’ve spent the years together, instead of writing stained letters or leaving messages on answering machines while the two of you were miles away. He could’ve been waking up with you every morning with the scent of your shampoo on his sheets, instead of clinging to pillows in foreign motel rooms. He could’ve been engaged to you, and he could be whispering sweet nothings in your ear of how much he wishes the baby will have your eyes.

But his thoughts are lost in fantasy. He is what he’s done, nothing more and nothing less. His eyes fall to your lap, the invitation still held loosely in your hand, and then a droplet of water falls onto it.

“I–” you stutter, wiping at the tears spilling down your cheeks with a hesitant swipe of your hand, “I need to go.”

You stand up off the bench and he quickly stands up with you, grabbing your wrist to keep you here with him, and you halt but only with you facing away from him. He yanks at your wrist harshly, pulling you into him so his chest is flush to your back, his arms wrapping strongly around you and his nose nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in greedily like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance.

“Satoru–” you gasp, your hands immediately grabbing at his forearms that are tightly crossed across your collarbone. “What are you doing–”

“Say it,” he whispers, gruff and impatient, “tell me to do it, and I will.”

“T-Tell you to do what?” you stutter, struggling a little in his hold but he only holds you tighter.

“Tell me to leave her, and I will,” he says, his lips brushing at your ear now, the scent of your perfume maddening to his senses, and one of his hands slowly trails down and the knuckle of his thumb presses into the softness of your breast.

You squirm, a small and soft moan leaving your lips.

“T–” you breathe in harshly, “this is wrong.”

“I don’t care,” he growls, arms sliding lower to hold you under your breasts, so tightly that your heels lift off the ground. “Just say the word, and I’ll leave everything behind for you. I promise,” he breathes in deep, the desperation making his head hazy, “that I’ll do things right this time. Just you and me–”

“You’re going to be a father,” you remind him, and he shuts his eyes closed tightly, the responsibility of the word bearing on his shoulders but his desire for you overshadows every shred of sense or dignity or integrity he has left in him, because he felt like he was losing his mind after wanting you for years just to never have you.

He turns you around in his hold so that you face him, and he crashes his lips to yours, muffling the surprised mmf! that dies in your throat in surprise as his hands hold your waist, relishing in the feeling of satin fabric pulled taut over your curves.

Forbidden, yet a taste that he’ll risk because there was no curse that was worse than the fate of having to pine after you for years.

Ah.

But.

But it was all fantasy, this moment in his head, where he takes you on the freshly cut grass of this garden.

Something that only briefly flashes through his mind as his warm hand wraps around your wrist, from where he was still seated on the stone bench, and not on his feet holding you like he dreamed for. Like he longed for.

He feels the weight of his arm so heavily, as if it weren’t his own, and he slowly lets go of your wrist.

When he looks up at you, there’s longing in your eyes. A hurt that he didn’t even know he was capable of causing, just for him to realize that you’ve always looked at him that way, and he’s never been keen enough to know it until now. He grew up too late. He took too long.

His phone starts buzzing in his pocket, and he reaches in for it, then flips it open and sees his soon-to-be-wife’s name on it. He feels nothing at the sight.

“Hello?” he speaks into the device when he holds it to his ear, and he sees you take a couple steps away, rubbing anxiously at your elbow as you pretend to busy yourself with the study of the lamp. “Yes, I’ll be there soon. I, uh, I’m just with a friend. A couple of friends, actually. We’re having drinks by the pond. Mhm. Yes. I will. Okay, see you soon. I—…I love you too. Bye.” And then he snaps the phone shut.

“Heading back?” he hears you ask.

He stands. “I’ve got to.”

“Okay.”

You two walk down the shrubbery of the garden that was arranged like a maze, him a few paces behind you, and he watches the delicate line of your posture as your hand brushes against the green walls of foliage that encase the two of you, the feeling of wanting to touch you and hold you almost suffocating.

“Hey,” he calls out to you, and he shoves his hands in his suit pockets. You turn around immediately to face him, like his voice was permission to do so.

“Yes?” you ask.

He blinks up at the starry sky, and then looks at you again. The soft cast of distant warm lighting falls over your face, making you appear like a renaissance painting, similar to those that you would point out to him at museums when you two would see each other on holiday back in your early twenties. He could never understand the charm of those paintings, no matter how many times you tried to explain it to him, but seeing you in this light right now, he finally understands the beauty that you saw.

“I’m, uh,” he rubs at the back of his neck, and then scoffs out a small laugh, “I’m a little drunk right now, but–” He stops himself. What was he trying to say? And was it of conscious mind? “I just need to tell you that…I really regret…not speaking to you. I mean, for letting the silence drag on for years. You’re my–...my best friend. We’re a pair, you know? The two of us. For years, people would ask me where you were. And why they haven’t seen us together at all recently. And it was hard to admit that we hadn’t spoken in years.”

You take the smallest of steps towards him, and look up at him with empty eyes.

“What I’m trying to say is, is that, well,” he finds himself tripping over his words, “I miss you. And I miss our friendship. And–...I miss having you around.” He glances down at his shoes, polished and reflecting off the moonlight directly above him. He rocks back and forth on his heels ever so slightly. “I know you said that I piss you off to lengths unimaginable to my tiny pea-sized brain, but I can’t help myself, y/n,” he admits, “I think you and I, we’re just meant to always be. In some how, or some way…”

You purse your lips together, gaze shifting lower to eye at the silk of his tie.

“Can we be friends again?” he asks, the words feeling juvenile on his tongue. Like whispered apologies between children on a playground after shoving one another onto wooden chips, except the wounds he’s left on you run much deeper than a superficial scrape.

You blink slowly, tilting your head up at him. “Friends?”

“Friends.”

You wipe your palm off on the satin of your dress. “I missed you too, you know.”

His eyes widened slightly.

Your hand finds its way up your arm, until you weakly cup your elbow with your palm and look off to the side, avoiding eye contact with him. “There were so many years where I thought that there was something between us. And maybe I was foolish for thinking that way, that you would ever see me that way–”

“y/n,” he tries to interrupt you.

“But…the pain of not having you the way I wanted to was much less worse than the pain of not having you at all,” you say, your gaze finally shifting towards him. “But, the thing is, I needed to feel that pain to get over you. I had to.”

His heart stills at those words.

You glance down at the ground now. “I missed being able to tell you things. To laugh, and cry, and argue. I miss humbling your stupid ego. I miss being able to call you at any time, knowing you’d pick up when I needed you.”

His heart aches so much he wants to reach into his chest and hold it.

“The thing is,” you continue, “you would’ve been the first person I would’ve run to to tell them that I lost my best friend.” There were tears shining in your eyes. “But what could I do when you were the one that I had lost? Who could I have turned to then?”

He lets out a shaky breath, and in a swift motion, his arm wraps around your waist and he pulls you to him in an embrace.

You’re stiff in his hold, mechanical and rigid, so contrary to the soft tears you leave behind on the fabric of his sleeve, but slowly and surely, you warm and thaw. Your hands slide up past his shoulders, linking behind his neck. And his head drops to the curve of your neck, swaying you with him slowly as if it were a first dance.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “for hurting you.”

You breathe out slowly. “Just let me go, Satoru. Let me be free. Let me be free of you.”

He feels the air knock out of his lungs, and the two of you slowly pull your heads away from the embrace to look at one another, although your hands still find a place on his shoulders, and he still holds you close to him by a delicate hold of your waist.

He wonders if in another life, you two were happy. He wonders if he could ever take back all the decisions he made, and start all over again. On that day the two of you met on that staircase in the west wing of the literature building, he would make a different choice. If he could, he would live in this lifetime of hell over and over again if it meant that in some other one, there exists a world where he never hurts you.

“It’s time for me to go,” you whisper, eyes darting across the features of his face, studying them but with a familiarity that only you know, because you held his entire life in your palm. Your gaze meets his again, faces just inches apart, and the sweet curl of your eyelashes makes him weak in the knees. “It’s time.”

He nods slowly, his own eyes studying your face as well, except it looks foreign to him now.

It’s all been said and done. There was nothing he could do to right the wrongs, or undo all the pain. He was to be a father now, and his duties were now towards his wife and unborn child. And no longer to the woman he holds in his arms, one he’s sure he will never stop loving for as long as he lives.

It’s a sweet moment, the two of you gazing at one another. You look so pretty from this angle, looking up at him with the smallest tilt to your head and round searching eyes. His head subconsciously dips down towards yours in the second that he glances at your lips, but he stops himself. And when you make no move to create distance, he finds himself closing it again, until his lips brush against yours ever so softly. And then he captures them in a kiss, firm and unmistaken, finding solace in the way your lips move against his too, unsure yet passionately at the same time. Your fingers ever so slightly dig into his shoulders while his thumbs soothe at the skin of your waist, the two of you savoring the last moments of a kiss that’ll be the sweetest one you’ll ever know.

You pull away first, a small puff of air leaving your lips as you glance downwards. He rests his forehead against yours, never once looking away from your face. And you both breathe slowly, the soul of the chaste kiss entirely vanishing into the air along with all the hope that the two of you had left to make anything of the way you feel about one another. It was a kiss that almost disqualified any level of sin or guilt or wrong, because it was like one you two owed each other, after years of familiarity and longing. It was the goodbye that the two of you deserved.

His hands slowly let go of your waist, and he takes a step back away from you, softly clearing his throat. The distance feels like a galaxy away, and he briefly runs his thumb along his bottom lip, because the ghostly feeling of your lips on his still remains.

“Shall we head back?” you ask him, prim and proper in posture and eyes widened in a formal gaze.

His lips are parted, and he finds that he’s panting slightly. And then he slowly nods his head. “Yes.”

[the end]

a/n. i am sooooo freaking obsessed w "one day" by david nicholls and really wanted to write something inspired by it!! the book literally ripped my heart out and stomped on it like there were so many scenes where i just longingly stared out the window because of how shattering it was but dear god i really enjoyed it, and the show was also so dfkjhsfkhs i had sm feels watching it. so yea this was fun to write!! i hope you enjoyedd n thanks so much for reading :)

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gracieheartspedro · 11 months

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Who We Are

pairing: fem!reader x dbf!joel miller

description: when your father falls ill, his patrol partner and best friend, joel miller finds a way to aid in his recovery. but this solution is complicated and requires you to take on a week-long hunt for supplies and resources. being stuck on the road with an older guy you've been crushing on for ages won't be so bad, right? wrong. because he's been pining after you, too. and one of you will have to give in evenutally.

word count: 17k words. this one is a LONG ONE. get a snack.

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, age gap (reader is in her 30s, joel is in his mid 50s), i don't describe the reader all that much, consumption of alcohol, illness that requires medical intervention, blood, guns, killing of infected, forced proximity, joel is kinda pervy?, talks of loss of family members, joel lies about his past, oral (f receiving), face sitting, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, dirty talk, creampie, after care.

author's note: ... hi folks! this one is a long one, so like I said, grab a snack and get comfy! I was going to make this multiple parts but I'm eager and unhinged. to be honest, this story is better as one big one shot anyway. I had a very intense time editing so I know I probably missed some things. I may write little branch off stories if you guys enjoy it enough. anyway, enjoy! <3 lemme know what you think!

“Didn’t know you were workin’ tonight, darlin’,” Your father’s Southern drawl brings you out of your daze. You had been cleaning glasses for the last hour and a half. Surprisingly, the Tipsy Bison wasn’t busy on a Wednesday night. You had been keeping busy by cleaning and serving two visitors.

You look up, noticing your father and his patrol partner wander into the bar. They find a seat at the bar, right in front of you as you dry some whiskey glasses.

“I work every night this week, Pops,” You mutter, turning back to the liquor bottles to grab his favorite bourbon. You knew exactly what he came here for. He wanted to pester you on your shift and watch you write under his partner’s gaze. He thought your little crush was entertaining. You have made comments to your dad in the past about how you thought Joel was nice to look at and your Dad would just laugh. He would jokingly wiggle his finger at you and tell you to find someone your age.

Little do you and your father know, Joel feels similarly about you. The first moment he saw you, he thought about how if he was a young buck, he’d lock you down as soon as he could. The age held him back initially, never even entertaining your subtle glances or welcoming smiles. Then when he realized who your father was, he immediately shut down all thoughts like that in his head. You were strictly off-limits.

“Well good, keeps you busy.”

You did not enjoy the idea of working every weeknight with a bunch of drunks, but this job was a bit better than constantly shoveling horse shit. Instead, you got to mingle with the locals. Maybe find yourself a man, since you were in your early thirties and unmarried.

Joel loved coming to the Bison when you were here. It meant he got to drink a whiskey neat and watch you twirl and rush around the bar. Tonight was slower, though, so he got the privilege of speaking with you, which was rare.

You pour your Dad his bourbon, finally glancing up at his partner who’s practically ogling at you. You made a conscious effort to avoid his piercing brown eyes.

Joel Miller was a dream boat, god damn. Every time he glanced in your direction, you would freeze up and stutter out a very jumbled “hello”. He was quite guarded, never much to talk. When he did finally speak, you found yourself reeling over his deep voice.

“Whatcha want, Mr. Miller?”

His lips twinged, his eyes flicking up to yours. He loves hearing you say that, he thinks to himself. You hand off the bourbon to your Dad, waiting for a response.

“Whatever he’s having is fine, sweetheart,” He says plainly, nodding toward the half-empty bottle. Your knees could buckle at the nickname, but you keep your composure. You can’t crumble that easily.

You three slide into a conversation about their patrolling, what they found that day, and the game plan for tomorrow. You make a sly comment about how they needed to find some meaning in life other than patrol. Your dad laughs, and Joel just stares blankly at you. You instantly want to take back the comment and never speak again, ever. Instead, you just continue drying the glasses you just washed.

When your dad finished his bourbon, you noticed his expression change from relaxed to pained.

“You okay there?” You ask, grabbing his glass and placing it in the sink below the counter. He rubs his chest, letting out a deep guttural cough. Joel looks perplexed while you get closer and notice the blood splattering into your dad’s palm.

“It’s nothing, just a cough,” He manages to say, his voice hoarse. You scan his face, knowing immediately that he’s lying.

“Bullshit, you’re coughing up blood,” You reach towards some towels, tossing them on the counter in front of him, “You should probably go get checked out, Dad.”

Joel quips, “Yeah, don’t need you getting sick when we are out tomorrow. Why don’t you stop by the infirmary before you go home?”

Your Dad just shakes his head, “You two are being dramatic. It’s nothing, I promise.”

Your Dad was known for downplaying his pain and sicknesses. You remember being a little girl traveling with him across the country and every time he got hurt, he’d just suck it up. He shattered his left pinky years ago and he resolved to just chop it off. So that’s what he did. He was lucky it never got infected. But he was known just to blow off all his ailments, reminding you he’s beat all the other odds.

So instead of fighting with him, you just nod all the while, stealing a long glance at Joel. He’s finishing his drink and you can’t help but watch his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and you fixate on it for a bit too long.

You’re brought out of the trance when he slams the glass down, his dark brown eyes drooping. Joel always looked tired, but you knew after the day they had, he was actually tired.

You had a couple more hours at the Bison before you had to close up, so you bid them a farewell, reminding your Dad that you’d be home before he stumbles off to bed. He never slept much, he would just read in the living room until you got home usually.

Joel waves you a farewell, thanking you quietly for the drink.

“Don’t be a stranger,” You say as he turns his back to you to head for the door. He turns a bit, giving you a slight smirk as he reaches for the door.

You spend the rest of your shift daydreaming about what it’d be like to be with a man. You spent most of your time in Jackson without giving much of the men your age a thought. More than half were taken, anyway. While you let your mind wander, you realize your imagination is placing Joel in the spot of all the made-up situations with this said man.

You lock the bar door behind you, tugging on it to ensure it’s snug in the latch. The air was shifting, the cool warm summer turning into a slightly chilly fall. You wore a long sleeve today, luckily, or else you’d be shivering on your way home. The walk home wasn’t a long one.

When you reach your front door, you realize the living room light is on. Dad’s awake.

But as you reach to turn the knob, you hear ghastly breathing from the other side. When you swing the door open, you see your Dad in his recliner, his hand over his chest. He’s dry heaving, trying to get out a cough.

“Hey, hey,” You quickly race to his side, “Are you okay? What’s happening?”

He breathes in deeply, “I just can’t seem to catch my breath. Something isn’t right.”

You have never seen him so panicked. You nod, understanding that your next step is to get him to the infirmary. He should have gone on his way home. You didn’t know if anyone would be there and you surely didn’t know if they would be able to treat his symptoms.

“Are you in pain?” You ask, grabbing under his arms to lift him out of his chair. He’s wobbly, so you keep your hand under his armpit and use your other free arm to balance him. He shakes his head.

“Just weak.”

Your heart sinks. Never in your life has your father admitted to feeling weak or sick. It was like as soon as he got home, his body just gave out. You help him into his shoes and start your trek back towards the middle of town. You wish you didn’t have to walk him so far because it felt like with every 5 feet, his lungs were giving out and sending him into a coughing fit. You probably woke the entire town trudging him through the streets. When you get to the front step of the infirmary, you knock as loud as you can. Usually, they had an overnight shift nurse helping, having them watch over whoever was dragged there during the day. Dispensing medicine if need be. You knew a couple of the nurses, most of them your age or a bit older.

When a familiar face opens the door, you feel a sense of relief.

“Hey Sidney,” You greet her, sort of pushing your Dad into the room, still keeping your hands wrapped around his center, “Something’s wrong with Pops.”

She reaches out to help you with him, “Oh no, what’s going on?”

“Can hardly breathe,” Is all he can muster out. You look at Sidney, concern spread across your face. She nods, knowingly.

Sidney was one of the nurses you trusted the most. She gave you stitches when you sliced your hand open on a glass bottle a couple of weeks ago. She was patient and gentle, always checking to see if you were doing alright as she sewed your skin together. She’s a former Firefly, probably in her 40s. She got trained by some doctors years ago so she knew a decent amount about all sorts of medical treatment.

She takes hold of the situation completely, grabbing your Dad and walking him to a free bed near the door. She gets him to lie down and she starts scrambling for some supplies to do a quick once over of him. He looks pale and for some reason, very small, in the hospital bed.

“It’s gonna be alright,” You say, poking his arm. You say it for him, but you mainly say it for yourself. He closes his eyes and nods.

“Always is, kiddo.”

The news was not ideal. After observation and some tests, Sidney decided your father probably has pneumonia. The problem was, that Jackson was low on antibiotics and they would have to decide if your Dad’s case was urgent enough to give him some.

It pissed you off, but you had to hold back your anger. This situation was out of Sidney’s control, but you knew exactly who to raise your voice to. Sadly, the city council was asleep in their beds, as it was 4 a.m. Sidney reassured you that she would ensure your father was looked after until the morning when they could discuss with everyone if it would be okay to give him some of the highly sought-after antibiotics.

But for now, you should get some rest.

Your father fussed at you while he was in and out of sleep, telling you that you needed to go home and sleep. Your body was plagued with exhaustion and your brain was hardly functioning. You would need to plead a good case, so even a couple of hours of sleep would do you good. You ask if you could occupy a bed nearby and Sidney agrees with a sympathetic smile. You curl up, trying to clear your brain of your racing thoughts.

You can’t lose your father, he’s all you have.

You need to remind the council of all your father does.

You need him to get better.

You need him.

“We only have 4 vials of antibiotics,” Maria states, trying not to look you in the eyes. She feels horrible, but she knows deep down the rest of the council will probably reject your father using any. It was going to be a tough decision like this that made most of the people in the council think they were playing God, but it was real life. Would they give your 60-something-year-old father antibiotics for pneumonia or give it to a young child suffering from an infection? They had to think ahead and supplies were scarce.

You cross your arms, waiting for the next shoe to drop. “And?”

Tommy stands up, knowing you will not like the next sentence. He practically guards Maria with his broad frame. He resembled Joel, with his dark hair and stern eyes. His were a bit softer.

“We are low on resources, hun. We need to think ahead and ensure that the pros outweigh the cons of giving him one of those vials. You understand?”

“Why was this not a thought in the summer? When it was a good time to go seek some out? I just don’t under-”

“We had that sickness going around over the summer. Lots of people getting fevers. Before we knew it, Dr. Peters realized we were low. I had intentions to get out and try to find more, and trade with some people, but we just haven’t discussed it all yet. There’s a process. It was in the works.”

Your blood is boiling and your patience running out. Each second of arguing was another second your Dad could be closer to death.

“Well, it’s a shitty fuckin’ process. Where can I go to get more, then? Is there another community we can trade with? A hospital we can scavenge? You guys can’t expect me to sit around and wait for him to get worse.”

Maria looks to Tommy, trying to wrack her brain for a response. Tommy’s lip twitches, knowing exactly what to say. He did not want you to do it, but he knew how you were. You’d do anything for your family.

“There’s a hospital in Salt Lake that I’ve heard is practically untouched. Fireflies used to reside there and do tests. They probably left behind some supplies.”

You narrow your eyes, “Salt Lake? Isn’t that a whole week away?”

You start to pace the room, trying to console yourself. You can’t just leave for that long and assume that everyone will take care of your Dad. Tommy places his hands on his hips, trying to figure out a resolution. He liked your Dad, always going to him if he needed help around the commune. Your Dad is always one to offer a helping hand and give solid advice. He didn’t want to watch him die, either.

“How about this,” Tommy huffs, “How about we give him one of our vials and you and Joel head out to Salt Lake to scavenge that hospital? If we are right in our assumptions, there’s probably a lot of resources there. And Joel’s been there before.”

“Why are you roping Joel into this?” You press, crossing your arms.

“Joel knows where to go. He can get you there in one piece.”

“Where am I going,” Joel’s presence takes you by surprise. You turn back at the front door of the infirmary, seeing Joel’s disheveled hair sticking up in every direction. He had red cheeks, probably from the jog he did to get there. As soon as he heard about your father, he booked it from the stables to his side.

Tommy shoots Joel a knowing look, “You and her are gonna go back to Salt Lake. You think they have antibiotics at that hospital you took Ellie to?”

Joel’s visceral reaction sends you. His heart practically stopped when Tommy brought up the hospital.

You start to sweat when he does, realizing you would have to travel that far with Joel Miller.

He swallows, shifting his weight to his other leg. “Probably. Why can’t ya just give him what we have?”

Maria shakes her head at his response, “We have a long winter ahead of us, Joel. We have four vials left. This saves us from a council meeting where they shoot down everything. They won’t approve it. If I reassure them that you are going to get some more, they won’t mind if we give him one.”

He huffs, scratching his chin in contemplation. You knew this would not be ideal for him, but you’re willing to do anything, even if you had to do it alone. The four of you stand in silence while Joel wracks his brain for an excuse to say no. None comes to him.

It’s not that he did not want to help you, he just does not want to relive some trauma with you by his side. He would have to swallow back all his emotions, all the while you would be posted up right next to him. He does not want you to see him falter under pressure.

“She can’t go alone, Joel,” Tommy quips, gesturing towards you. You were shaking, your body reacting before your brain even could. Your nerves were shot.

He shakes his head, “And if they don’t have the supplies?”

You didn’t even think that far.

“They will,” Tommy says, matter-of-factly, “It’s our best bet. The Fireflies disbanded, there has to be stuff left behind.”

You don’t know how Tommy knows all this, but he must have good sources to know all these things. Joel nods at him, accepting his response. He looks back at you, trying to figure out how you feel about the proposition by reading your face.

“Does that work for you?” His deep voice isn’t meant to be intimidating, but you flinch anyway at the question.

“I don’t have much of a choice. My Dad needs the medicine. If you guys think we can make it there and back in one piece, I’ll do it.”

“We will leave tomorrow morning. In the meantime,” Joel waves over Sidney, who’s still sitting by your sleeping and dazed father, “Give him one of those vials.”

Joel sacrificing his time and effort for your father was unfathomable to you. Sure, Joel was a great friend of your Dad’s, but he truly didn’t owe you two anything. It made you enamored with him even more.

As the day shifted into the evening, you sat by your Dad’s bed and waited for the antibiotics to kick in. His body needed rest, you knew that much because he slept more than he probably ever had in his lifetime.

He was sweating out a fever, so every so often you’d pat his head with a cold rag. He would mumble a quiet “thank you” and then return to snoring. As the sun sets, you welcome Sidney back for her night shift. She checked your Dad’s vitals, telling you his lungs are already sounding a bit better. You stretch and yawn, cracking every bone in your body while you do. You were stuck in the same position for so long, elbows on your knees, your chin propped up by your hands.

You had a long trip ahead of you, and you couldn’t lie, you were scared half to death. You did not want to come back and find your father dead. You were also terrified about going back outside of Jackson. You spent most of your last 20 years living in the wild and shitty QZ’s. You were always on edge out there, and then you found Jackson. Ever since then, life has been a little more hopeful. You were able to form relationships and have some simple enjoyment, after all this time.

Your Dad finally wakes up when you start stirring more. His one eye opens first which makes you crack a smile.

“Mornin’ Pops,” You joke, grabbing his warm hand, “That antibiotic should start working soon. You’ll be better in no time.”

“Yeah,” He croaks, “But I heard you’re going somewhere.”

You bite your lip, afraid to stress him out. You knew he would worry about you, he always did.

“Yeah, me and Joel are going to get more supplies. Nothing too drastic,” You lie, brushing your thumb over his scarred knuckles, “You trust Joel enough to take care of me?”

It was the first time he laughed in the last 24 hours, “Course he will. He knows how much you mean to me. If he fucks up, he will get a load of me, that’s for sure.”

His voice was reassuring to hear, especially since he’s joking with you.

“Okay, I believe you,” You mutter, “We leave tomorrow morning, so I need you to be good and get all the rest you can. I want you up and moving when I get back, you hear me?”

“Roger that, kiddo.”

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Your tone is sarcastic and Joel can tell. You did not expect to be stuck with Joel Miller alone for a week, especially outside the walls.

He clears his throat as he finishes packing up his horse.

“Mornin’,” He grumbles, patting his horse’s mane, “Let’s get you all set up. You’ll be takin’ your Dad’s horse, Ranger. He is already saddled up, just need to get your stuff on there.”

Luckily, you packed light. You brought a couple of changes of clothes, some food, some camping gear, and of course, your gun.

Joel helps you tie down your bag and ensures all the straps he just put on are tight enough for you. You just watch him, enjoying how just takes control of the situation. He had the father instinct, always making sure everything would be safe and secure for the girls he loved. Or liked. Whatever.

You thank him, grabbing onto the saddle and flinging yourself up onto the horse. Ranger was truly your favorite horse in all of Jackson. He was the best behaved and the biggest. His mane was long and black and he loved to be brushed. You spent a lot of evenings riding him for fun, just enjoying his company.

Joel gets on his horse, adjusting how he sits before he takes the reigns and guides you towards the main gates of Jackson.

“You still sure you’re ready for a run like this?”

He’s giving you a chance to back out. But this was now an obligation. If you didn’t do this, you would indebted to everyone. You would be the person to blame if someone’s loved one died. Not really, but you felt that guilt.

“Readier than I’ll ever be, Joel.”

“How is Ellie doing?”

You were burning to make conversation. You needed to rid your mind of all the anxiety surrounding your own life. Joel was too quiet, it made you feel queasy. He was too wrapped up in his thoughts. You were about 20 miles outside of Jackson, the sun was coming up through the foliage.

He inhales sharply, “She’s a teenage girl. She’s grumpy.”

You grip onto the reigns of your horse, your body swaying back and forth with the trot.

“I remember being that young and being constantly annoyed by my Dad’s nagging,” You chuckle, remembering the days of angst, “Are you annoying her, Joel?”

Joel scrunches his face at such allegations. If anything, Ellie was annoying him.

“Course I’m not! Just… want to make sure she’s doing good. Which she is. Everyone tells me ‘bout how helpful she is.”

You think back to the last interaction you had with Ellie. She had been helping out at the stables when you were in charge of feeding and cleaning the horses before you got the job at the Tipsy Bison. Ellie wanted to know everything you knew, pestering you with silly questions like what their names were and why they were named what they were.

“She’s very helpful,” You acknowledge, thinking about how enthusiastic she always was about learning, “You raised her right.”

He huffs, “Was hardly me. She’s just smart and raised herself.”

You did not quite understand the history between Joel and Ellie, but you knew Joel was not her biological father. You had no clue how they found each other or when. But you could see the love Joel had for Ellie. You remember him lighting up when he explained to you and your dad how she was the best shot amongst the recruits.

Joel will probably never indulge you in the specifics of his relationship with Ellie, simply because it’s complicated. He never felt the need to explain himself to anyone but Tommy.

“You had a hand in some of it, Joel. Give yourself a little credit.”

But Joel was never good at that. He was hard on himself, weary to accredit any of Ellie’s behavior to himself.

The rest of the ride was occupied with the sound of leaves rustling. Joel spots a fallen tree that he says would be a good eating spot. You agree, hopping down off your horse with ease. You tie his reins up on a nearby branch and start digging through your saddle bag for the apple you packed for yourself. You were sick with unease all day. With everything going on in your life, the last thing on your mind was hunger. Plus, you were alone with a man that you had to put all your trust in.

You pop a squat on the chipping bark and get out your pocket knife to start cutting the red fruit. Joel gets out a bag of jerky from his pack and finds a spot next to you. He looks over at you, perplexed at your food choice.

“Just some fruit?” Joel interrogates, instantly knowing your hunger cannot be satiated by apples. No one can be satisfied with only fruit.

Your stomach churns at your first bite, “Just not that hungry.”

That’s all the explanation he needs. You watch as he starts to munch on his bagged meat, cringing at the sound of his mouth. You try to block it out, but it’s eating away at your brain. You hated the sound of chewing, it was such a stupid pet peeve, but you couldn’t help yourself. Joel is oblivious, probably not even hearing how loud he’s being. You smack his arm out of instinct, something you did to your dad when he was being too obnoxious.

He looks down at you with furrowed brows and annoyed eyes.

“You’re eating too loud,” You say, wanting to smack yourself at how stupid it sounds out loud.

He looks away, completely flabbergasted at the reaction. “Eating too loud? Really?”

You feel embarrassed for letting your brain get the best of you. So you just cut more of your apple off and slowly crunch on it. You try your best not to hyper-fixate on your chewing. When you’re in a trance, lost in your thoughts, Joel nudges you back. He’s getting you back, now.

“Now you’re chewing too loud,” He jokes, popping another piece of his jerky in his mouth, “Should probably keep it down. So loud you may attract some infected.”

You can’t help but smile at his stupid rebuttal. You give him props for making you feel less foolish.

“Sorry,” you mumble, eating another slice intentionally loud, “Can’t help myself. They are just so crunchy.”

You hear him giggle, his smile easing your churning stomach.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll forgive you this one time.”

You knew the ride to this hospital would be long, but you didn’t realize how barren the landscape would be. You also didn’t realize how bad your ass would hurt. You and Joel finally pull off into some woods when the sun starts to set. Joel acts like he knows exactly how to navigate the woods, guiding his horse deeper and deeper. In between some large trees, you spot a lake.

“Wanna go swimming?” You question after hours of no conversation. He glances back at you with a sly smirk on his face. When you look to your right, you notice a small path. Joel clicks his tongue for his horse to follow it. You two trot through the leaves, before coming upon a small decrepted cabin.

“This is us,” He states as he halts his horse.

He had secretly always pictured taking you out here. He could not help but insert you into his small fantasies. Some nights he would imagine what it would be like to have you stick by his side forever. He always felt guilty afterward.

You look at the building in wonder, completely speechless. You assumed you would be camping on the forest floor, not in an intimate cabin by a lake. You swing your leg over and slide off your saddle. Joel starts to tie up his horse nearby and you follow suit. You continue to look at the cabin, curious as to who kept up with it. It looked well maintained, besides some cobwebs at the peak of the roof.

“Is this yours?”

He shakes his head, “No. Technically Tommy’s. He goes this way to get to another settlement about 50 miles south. He found this place on a whim and cleaned it up.”

You look around the area, seeing there’s even a fire pit right by the water. It had chairs and stones to outline the charred wood. You could not help but imagine what this place was before Tommy found it. How many fun nights were probably spent here by the original owner? If you had no one to go back to, you would just live here. But the more you think about that scenario, you think about how lonely you would probably get. Maybe if you had someone to stay with you.

You finally look back at Joel. He’s standing on the stone path with his eyes locked on you. You get self-conscious for a moment, realizing he probably noticed how entranced you were with the surroundings.

That’s exactly what he was thinking, too. How beautiful you stood in the shadows of the trees, your eyes curiously glancing around like a kid in a candy shop. You had him wrapped around your finger without even knowing it.

“You good if we stay here overnight? Get back on the road tomorrow?”

How could you ever say no to an offer like that?

You nod, swallowing back your insecurity, “Yeah, for sure.”

Joel could build a good fire. Watching him gather all the wood and place them into a perfect formation. As soon as he lights it, it builds and builds. When the warmth envelopes you, you start to finally feel at ease. Joel sits down with a stick, nudging the fire every so often.

He felt guilty. He felt like he was betraying your father, a man who was trusting him with his daughter. He should not be imagining how a little life in the woods would look like with you. He should not be picturing how beautiful you would look underneath him. He should not be having these devious thoughts about you. His eyes are trained on the flames as they build, trying to push those daydreams away.

When his sleeve lifts as he toys with the charred wood, you notice the watch on his wrist. It looks ancient, the face of it shattered. You don’t realize you’re staring at it until he snatches his hand away from your view.

“Sorry,” You retract, sitting further into the chair, “Your watch is broken.”

He places the stick next to his foot, finally out of his head for a moment, “Yeah, I’m aware.”

You were so stupid. You know not to pry further, knowing there’s probably a story and you don’t feel like you’re at a stage with Joel Miller to dive deeper. He notices how small you making yourself, and it makes him feel bad. He never wants to make you insecure.

“Your necklace,” He starts, trying to place your mind somewhere else. It was a feature on your body that he noticed ages ago, but he never tried to beg the question, so this seemed like a great time to move the subject along. “Is it a moon?”

You reach up to your throat, feeling for the necklace you never took off. It feels like he almost wants to see if you will spill your story first. He is bad at reading women, sometimes. Most of the time.

“Yeah, it was my sister’s.”

He feels stupid, instantaneously. As soon as those words fell from your lips, he put his face in his hands.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Your feelings towards what happened 20 years ago were drastically different than how you feel now. You could still feel the horror and the pain you felt, but it wasn’t so gut-wrenching anymore. It honestly doesn’t even feel like it happened to you.

You drop the crescent moon charm from your hands, “No, it’s okay. She died on outbreak day. She was a bit older than me, her name was Reagan.”

He looks up at you and just nods, taking in the information. You don’t know if it’s a gesture for you to continue to talk, but you take it as just that.

“Her and my mom were at one of her soccer games when all hell broke loose. From what I heard, she was bit by one of her teammates and when me and my Dad were packing up our things to get out of there, I grabbed some of her stuff. A necklace, a sweatshirt, and her favorite pair of sneakers. I don’t know why. But yeah, this necklace is the only thing that survived 20 years. Sweatshirt got too small, shoes got too torn up.”

You don’t even notice the tears pricking in your eyes until you blink. You don’t even remember what she looks like, her face is kind of jumbled in your memory. You remember her hair though, long and brown and super curly. Joel just listens, his eyes trained on your hands as you nervously rub them together. When you peer up at him, you see the mutual pain written on his face.

He thinks to his beautiful Sarah. His eyes fall to his broken watch. The pain is still very palpable.

“‘m glad we have somethin’ from our people. Somethin’ to remember them by, ya’ know?”

You scan his broken watch and nod timidly. “Yeah, something to remember them by.”

You stand up after eating some more food you packed, ensuring you’re somewhat nourished before you go to sleep. Joel stares at the fire, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. He knows he has to sleep, but he knows you need it more. He’s willing to give up his hours for yours.

“You want me to do first watch?” You quiz, hoping to get the answer no. Instead, he just shrugs. You cross your arms, a cool shiver going down your back as you step away from the fire.

“I’ll start first,” He mumbles, grabbing his poking stick, “There’s a bed in there all ready for you. Get some rest, we got a long day tomorrow.”

You respond with a slight wag of your head, “Okay, goodnight, Joel.”

You turn on your heels and head towards the front door of the cabin. You creak the door open. It’s pitch black so you step back onto the small porch to grab the lantern Joel lit a while ago. You slowly creep through the one-room cabin, placing the lantern on the small table by the door. It lit up most of the room so you got a great look at the wooden framed bed, waiting for you to lay upon it.

You feel a pang of guilt making Joel sit outside to guard you as you slept. You knew you needed rest. You also knew it would start getting colder and colder and that fire would die eventually.

Joel could handle himself, after all. You would just have to push your worry aside. When you curl up onto the hard mattress, you think back to the last time you were left to trust another man to look after you as you slept. It was a traumatizing night, so instead of worrying yourself, you close your eyes and remind yourself that Joel is safe. Dad trusts Joel. Joel is a good man.

Sleep eventually takes over, your soft snores rattling off the wooden walls.

After a couple of hours, the shivering takes over Joel’s body, so he creeps into the cabin. The lantern is dimmer, slowly running out of fuel. He shakes his head, smiling to himself at your disregard for resources. He walks over to the small wood-burning oven, opening the door to it as quietly as he can. You don’t even stir. You’re a deep sleeper, he would remember.

He starts a fire with the old coals, warming up the small space. Once he stands up from his squat, he hisses at the crack of his knees. He glances over at you, making sure he did not wake you. Nothing.

You were a peaceful sleeper, your mouth slightly ajar. To Joel, you were always so beautiful. Not even just your looks, but your kind and reserved nature. You always gave him a delighted smile when he looked your way. You were dedicated to always being there for your father, which would always melt his cold heart. He would always watch you with a careful eye, praying that you would somehow get older or him, younger. He hated himself for admiring you so often, especially since he respected your father so much. But you were right there.

He sat himself in the old recliner chair near the door, peaking out the window every so often. He would always find himself training his eyes back on you, watching your chest rise and fall slowly.

It takes everything in him not to curl up next to you.

The second day starts off a bit rough.

When you wake up in the early morning hours, you take notice of a sleeping Joel in the corner of the room. You spring up, loudly rattling the bed frame. It sends Joel jumping out of his skin, his eyes flying open to look at you.

You are panting like you just ran a mile.

“Jesus Christ, girl,” He barks, his tone tired but also vicious, “Thought someone had you at gunpoint.”

“You were sleeping!”

“Shit, yeah I was, wasn’t I?” His tone is more relaxed, sort of annoyed. He rubs his eyes, glancing outside. Your horses were still there and it doesn’t seem like you guys have been ransacked.

You clench your fists, “You’re lucky we didn’t get shot in our sleep or something.”

He rolls his eyes, slowly rising from the chair he took over, “That’s a little dramatic, sweetheart. We are fine.”

After that comment, you did not want to talk to Joel Miller.

You also start to question if you can trust him. He should’ve woken you up to take charge of the watch, but instead, he ignorantly fell asleep and risked your life.

When you pack up to leave, he realizes how rattled you are. He wants to apologize, but he’s too stubborn to do so. You were being dramatic. But he shouldn’t have said that. He should’ve kept that comment to himself. He was never really good at holding his tongue, always saying the first thing on his mind.

When the sun sets on the second day, Joel promises you two should be in Salt Lake the next afternoon. The whole day pretty much consisted of you two bickering about state capitals. He swears the capital of Pennsylvania is Philadelphia.

“It’s not, it’s Harrisburg,” You would say.

You also talked about times before the Infection. He mentions his daughter, Sarah, telling you about how she used to play soccer and she loved going to the Texas State Fair. It makes your heart happy to hear him light up about her, but it makes you want to cry hearing a father talk about his dead child. You can’t imagine that type of pain, and you hope you never do. He doesn’t even know why he’s suddenly baring his soul to you, but he starts to feel like his walls are falling away and he’s comfortable around you.

He tells you about how he plays the guitar, which you lock onto quickly.

“You’ll have to show me how good you are,” You smile, imagining Joel Miller strumming along to some folksy song you request. He can only imagine what type of music you would want to hear from him.

“When we get home,” He mutters, “I'll give you a performance.”

“I cannot wait.”

The conversation with you was easy. You could get anything out of him, pretty much. You were a lot like your father, but softer. He enjoyed your company a bit more. Your laugh was infectious and you were a lot easier on the eyes, of course. When you two stop for a break, he watches as you look for four-leaf clovers on the forest floor. When you find one, you pick it up and bring it over to his hunched-down frame.

“My mom used to say they were for love and luck,” You explain, “Think you need it for both.”

He knew you were joking by the way you giggle and return to your spot on the ground. He just shakes his head and sticks the clover in his jacket pocket.

He was dreading being back in Salt Lake. He doesn’t want to relive that day when Ellie was practically ripped from him. It sent him spiraling just thinking about all the outcomes that could’ve transpired that day.

He contemplates telling you for a few brief seconds.

He wouldn’t have much to lose, especially now that everything is said and done. But then fear takes over and he wonders, would you judge him for it?

He imagines how you would react. How your nose would probably scrunch up, how your disposition towards him would soon contort into horror. You would probably call him a monster. You would probably never look at him the same way, with that beautiful smile and attentive gaze.

“You okay, Joel?”

You two were positioned on the edge of some woods off a dirt road. Joel didn’t want to attract anyone with fire, so you two decided you would just camp on the ground near the highway you would end up following to get into the city.

“‘M all good,” He practically whispers, “Just tired. You mind gettin’ first watch?”

You just silently nod, watching him rise from his spot and move over to the sleeping bags you two had set up when you arrived. You watch as he awkwardly wiggles his large frame into a small sack. It makes you giggle a bit. He positions himself with his back to you, his front facing into the woods. He can’t spend his time staring at you like he would like to, he needs to sleep.

You realize he has a leaf stuck on the back of his head. You couldn’t help yourself, it was going to bother you for as long as you were awake. You stand up and slowly creep up to him.

You squat down and pluck the leaf out of his thick curls. His head snatches back at you, knitting his brows together in confusion.

Secretly deep down, you just wanted to find a reason to touch him.

“Can I help you?”

You give him a shit-eating grin, “Yeah, you just got leaves in your hair. It was going to bother me if I didn’t get it out. You’re very, very welcome.”

He rolls his eyes, “Can I sleep now?”

“Don’t know, I’m already getting bored without you glaring at me.”

You were now on a mission to annoy him, he guesses.

Without thinking, he responds with a comment that would stick with you all night.

“Yeah, you like it when I look at you, don’t ya?”

The homestretch was only about another 20 miles. You and Joel had made good time, only taking about three days to get to the hospital. After the subtle flirting with Joel the night before, you got a little more ambitious with your advances.

Before you two took off to get to your destination, you asked Joel if you could change your clothes. You had mud all over your jeans and your shirt was reeking of body odor. The natural deodorants that were handmade in Jackson only did so much.

“Yeah, make it quick,” He orders, pointing to a more private area of the camp, “There’s some bushes over there.”

“I’m not getting dressed in a bush, Joel. Just look away,” You test, already shrugging off your flannel. He notices your bold move, instantly peeling his eyes away from your direction. This can not be happening to him right now.

“What the hell,” He murmurs, his hands propped up on his hips, “You’re doin’ this on purpose.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, “Doing what on purpose?”

“Testin’ me. Me and my patience.”

You throw your shirt over your head and grab one of your spare ones from your pack, “Well, if it’s a test, you’re passing with flying colors, Miller.”

He glances back at you without even really thinking, spotting you in your bra with a shirt covering your eyes. It’s almost like when you tell a child not to press a button, and it makes them want to do it even more.

He wanted to keep looking.

“Fuck,” He says under his breath, trying to push those types of thoughts out of his mind.

You shimmy off your pants, folding them as soon as you get them off your legs. You needed a shower so bad, you felt so filthy.

“You think we could stop back at the cabin on the way home? I want to bathe.”

Thinking about you naked and taking a bath made his dick hard.

“Yes,” He manages to say, “Hurry up, please!”

You grin at his frustration, “Fine, fine. I’m almost done.”

You and Joel trot along an abandoned highway, cars littering every lane. It was nothing new to you. You have seen plenty of cities in your lifetime. Each time was a bit different, but for the most part, they were all the same. Riddled with infected and bombed to shit.

You think back to when Tommy said Joel had been here before. Your mind starts to wonder, and being that you still had a couple of hours before you got to see the actual hospital, you decide to speak up and ask.

“When was the last time you were here?”

He thinks for a second. He was waiting for these questions.

“Over a year ago.”

You shake your head, “Was there a reason?”

You had no business prying into Joel’s life, but you felt like after spending days with him, there was some kinship. Maybe even a friendship.

“Ellie’s mom was a Firefly. They had a base camp out here,” He explains, but would he go further? Would he spill all the beans?

It’s technically not his story to tell. But then again, Ellie didn’t even have the truth, so it was a story only he knew.

You wait before responding, “Did you find her?”

“Who?”

“Ellie’s mom,” You press, glancing around some cars. You are trying to act like you didn’t care, but you could tell from the moment you entered the outskirts of the city, Joel was plagued with the weight of the atmosphere. His shoulders got heavier, his eyebrows further knitted together. He was tense.

“No, she’s dead. So I brought her home,” He says, half-bending the truth. He’s lying, but not really. Ellie’s mom was dead but that was never the reason they came out here. He just wants to say it, but his chest feels like a weight is pushing down, almost cracking his ribs. He swallowed the guilt.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

You didn’t have much else to say, letting the silence eat away at the prickle of your arm hairs as they stood up. You try to relax, but now that you are in the city, it feels real. You traveled all this way for medication so Jackson would not shun you. It sounded kind of stupid, coming all this way in hopes of a stocked Firefly hospital.

You also traveled all this way with Joel Miller. You managed to speak to him without tripping over every word and poking fun at him. You watched him sleep at night, looking so peaceful in the woods surrounding him. You try to think about the last time you saw him smile. You saw him differently, now. He came all this way to help you and your dad. He is risking a lot, disregarding his duties back home, just so he can be with you and protect you.

You ponder if things will be different when you get home. Maybe he would talk to you more when he came to the Tipsy Bison. Maybe he would wave back at you when you saw him around town.

You secretly hoped being next to him for so long would change your relationship with him.

Joel starts to ride next to you, studying your face as you stare forward.

“What are you thinkin’ bout so hard over there?” He poses, watching your face twist when he speaks up.

You lick your lips, “Thinking about what it’s gonna be like when I get home.”

“What do ya’ mean?”

You halt your horse to look over at him. He does the same.

“We came all this way and I am scared when we get back, you won’t want to talk to me anymore.”

He shakes his head, a slight chuckle escaping his lips, “Kiddo, your dad’s my patrol partner. ‘Course, I’ll still talk to you. You’re always around.”

The nickname makes you cringe. You don’t want to be a kid to him.

“Right, of course.”

When you get to the edge of the city, Joel starts explaining the game plan. How you will get to the hospital, do your sweep as quick as you can, and don’t meander around. He also explains how the exit plan is to drop everything, no matter what, and return to the horses. You see someone? Run.

You want to say you know how to handle yourself, but you resist and just nod in understanding.

To your surprise, you two do not run into any hoards. You turn a corner and spot a couple of infected twitching near an old school, and you two carefully back up and go up another block to avoid them altogether. You two don’t say anything to each other as you spot the hospital in the distance. Joel just points forward, having you trot at his side.

You pull out your gun when you start to hear some clicking nearby. Joel gestures to you to be quiet and continues to the front of the hospital. You two ride your horses to the ambulance drop-off, parking them there. When you jump down, you start to grab your pack so you can fill it with whatever supplies you find. Joel does the same, throwing his leather backpack over his shoulder. You check the magazine of your gun and take off the safety.

“Okay, we stay close to each other,” He explains in a hushed tone, “Grab whatever you think we need.”

You wiggle your head in agreement. He raises his rifle as you two enter the side door. The hospital is quiet besides the wind blowing through some shattered windows. You click on your flashlight that is attached to your backpack, making sure it’s pointed forward. The main corridor leads you down to some triage rooms and nurse's stations. Joel gestures to you to check out some triage rooms. You find some bandages and some tongue presses. You grab the entire box of bandages and stuff them in your bag. When you return to the hall, Joel is stuffing some of his finds in his pack.

“No meds yet,” He grumbles. You two press forward, keeping your steps silent. You find some lab rooms off the main hallway and you two scope out each room carefully, your guns still drawn and at the ready. You find more items; some gloves, masks, and some scissors. You pick them up, stuffing them in your back.

You hear movement from behind you and quickly spin. It’s just Joel, holding a couple of vials of medication. You rush towards him, using your light to see what the vials read.

levofloxacin

amoxicillin

“Jackpot,” You murmur, “Any more?”

He grabs a baggie sitting on a table nearby, “Not that I saw.”

You continue searching, not finding much of anything in the drawers. A lot of the stuff is picked through.

You point to a central staircase, “Wanna go up?”

“Yeah, right behind you.”

Joel was reeling, spotting some areas where blood was splattered across the walls as he walked through the hospital. It was terrifying to put himself back in this exact spot. It felt like a fever dream. Now he had you with him, another person he cared too much about to admit to anybody, let alone himself. He cared about you in a whole different way than he cared about Ellie.

You trail up the stairs, finding some old labs and nurse's stations. All were picked through. You couldn’t help but notice the blood all over the floor in some areas. You try to figure out what could have transpired here, but you don’t even try to beg the question to Joel. With the look on his face, you are afraid to say much of anything.

Something bad happened here and he was a witness to it.

It made you want to hurry up and spare his feelings. Instead of taking careful and methodical steps, you run room to room searching drawers and counters for anything of value. You find some alcohol swabs, safety pins, and some wrist splints. When you get to the last room in the hallway you’re in, you hit the jackpot. It’s a cabinet with some vials.

You start to quietly read them off to Joel who’s standing on the threshold of the room.

“Grab them all,” He says, pulling his pack off his shoulder so you can put some into his, “We can find use for ‘em.”

You also find some sutures and unopened syringes. You wish you could get down on your knees and thank whatever god is up there for blessing you with everything. You don’t believe in that though, so instead you excitingly grab Joel’s arm and shake it.

“Let’s get this all home,” You smile, pressing your fingers harder into his bicep, “Maybe celebrate with something strong from the bar.”

Then you hear it.

Click. Click. Click.

Joel grabs your arm back, shoving you behind him. He slings his pack over his shoulder and you do the same. You never had many issues with killing infected, but you did not know what you were dealing with. It was dark and all too quiet for too long. Joel creeps forward, his gun drawn forward to peek out the door. When you do the same, he tucks you back behind him.

Lining the hallway is about 3 clickers. Your stomach drops as they slowly make their way to the sounds you two made seconds ago. Joel glances back at you, his face very serious and stern.

You can read the look on his face and being that you dealt with these fuckers before, you know that you need to be silent. He looks back down the hall, spotting an exit in a staircase that’s slightly blocked by one of the clickers. He waves you along as he slowly tiptoes down the hallway. You get closer and closer to the first clicker and your gun is trained right at them as you keep your distance. You can tell by the clothing that it was a woman at one time, the infection growing out of every crevice of her body.

She clicks and clicks, but does not attack you. You and Joel continue, not making a sound as you shuffle past the next one. But once you get close to the one closest to the door, something snaps and it’s like they all realize exactly all at once. One squeals and the others follow suit. Joel yells for you to run, but you don’t budge, emptying your gun into the closest one. It crumbles to the ground. With that one down, Joel grips your wrist tightly and flings you towards the door. You two rush out as Joel lights up the hallway with gunfire.

You now know that you’re attracting every infected in a mile radius so time is of the essence. You practically fall down the stairs trying to get to the bottom. Joel does not like how fast you moving, pressing you to run faster. You two sprint down the hallway as two runners come full speed at you from an opposing hallway. You try to shoot but your gun is empty. You scream for Joel to do something and he puts them down expertly. He’s spot on even with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. You find the door you came in from and quickly make your way to Ranger. He seems sort of spooked so you try to gingerly climb up him, grabbing his reigns from the pole you tied him to. Joel is quick to mount his horse. He pulls his horse back, guiding it to head back the way you guys came.

You follow suit, hearing stirring from all around you as your hair whips in the wind. You are not worrying about the noise you two are making now, galloping down the once-busy streets of Salt Lake City.

“Don’t stop til’ I say so!” Joel calls out. You can hardly hear with your heartbeat in your ears and the wind against your ear drum.

You get to the edge of the city after about 20 minutes of dodging left-behind cars and random barriers. You get to the point where the foliage takes over and the infected taper off. You don’t realize it until you start slowing down and your heart gets back to its normal pace, you’re freezing.

You yell out for Joel, who’s still going quite fast. He halts completely, letting you catch up with his step.

“We have to stop, I’m freezing.”

You weren’t wearing all your layers and you knew it would be detrimental if you didn’t stop to wrap up before you two continued your journey. Joel nods, trotting off the main part of the road into some woods.

When you get off your horse, you can feel Joel’s eyes lock onto your vibrating body.

“Jesus, girl,” He dismounts, wrapping his reigns around a nearby branch, “The wind do you that much damage?”

You can’t help but laugh as you rifle through your pack to find your extra layers. You can remember packing two thermals, but with the way you’re shaking, you can’t even grip onto the clothes to move them around to search. You don’t even realize Joel has come to your side, you only notice when he nudges your side with his three fingers. You move out of his way so he can look, but you can’t help but feel the warmth his gentle touch gives you on your hip.

He pulls out a thermal, handing it out to you.

“Just put it over your other long sleeve,” He instructs, digging for another layer for you. You take his advice and throw it over your head. When your head pops through the neck hole, you spot him smirking at you.

“If you don’t warm up soon, I may have to share my body heat so we can get back on the road,” Joel jokes, watching you pull your hair out of the back of your long sleeve. You didn’t hate the sound of that, truthfully.

“Guess I will try my best not to warm up then.”

He shakes his head, grabbing onto your other thermal, “You can’t say stuff like that to me, darling.”

“Why not?”

Joel has slipped up a couple of times already, he wasn’t planning on giving in. But the teasing was fun and light-hearted. He knew in his heart it was not going to turn into anything.

Right?

“Because I don’t think it’s a very good idea for us to talk like that to one another,” He explains, stepping back as you add the other shirt onto your already warming body, “May lead us somewhere we can’t come back from.”

You swallow, “Maybe I’d like that.”

It takes you a day and a half to get back to the cabin. Joel promised that you two could spend a whole day there if need be. You two were physically and mentally exhausted. The horses needed rest too, you could tell Ranger was beat.

When you arrive on the property, Joel makes sure to scope out a radius before you two settle in. Ever since the sly passes you made at him, he’s been more quiet. You can tell he’s deep in thought. Maybe it wasn’t about you, but he had something on his mind.

You use the fire stove to warm up some water from the lake to give yourself a quick “bath”. You just used an old rag and some bar soap to scrub your limbs, trying to get off all the caked-on dirt. Joel stayed outside by the fire, cooking up some squirrels he was able to trap. You stood in your undergarments, lathering your skin, watching him from the window as he poked at the fire.

You felt a bit better once you were clean. The growl in your stomach was dull and kind of painful. You needed to eat, so you got your dirty clothes back on and headed outside to prop yourself up next to Joel.

When you open the cabin door, his head snaps over to you.

“Howdy, cowboy,” You gleam, walking down to the stump next to him. You couldn’t help but flirt now. It was funny to watch him squirm, the glint in his eyes not hard to notice.

“You all clean?”

You nod, giving him a cheeky smile. “Yeah, now you go get yourself all cleaned up.”

He grabs his stick poker, “Don’t got any soap.”

“Use mine.”

Joel stops his motion immediately to train his eyes back on you. “You want me to smell like you?”

“Well, I smell delicious, so why not?”

He scans your body with his eyes, “Cause if we get home and your Dad smells your soap on me, he’ll put it bullet between my eyes.”

You know he’s being dramatic, finding any excuse to opt out of using the soap you just used on your body.

“So, what you’re saying is,” You clear your throat before continuing, “If my dad wasn’t your friend, you’d lather yourself with my soap?”

He contemplates for a moment, “Yeah, and other things.”

Your heart stops beating for a second. Joel can not help but smirk at your reaction. He was playing with fire, literally and figuratively. The tension between you two was so heavy, that you do not think you could even take a deep breath in.

He stands up from his spot next to you. “Why don’t ya eat, sweet thing? I have to clean myself up, I guess.”

Joel can not do this.

You were his friend’s daughter. Sure you were grown, beautiful, strong-willed, and everything he could want and more but he could not take advantage of you. The only way he felt this way right now was because tensions were so high back in Salt Lake. You two have spent a lot of time together, the hormones… what the fuck is he thinking?

You sit by the fire, your stomach doing back flips as you think about Joel in the cabin, by himself, practically half naked.

Why were you doing this to yourself?

Your heart is racing faster than it ever has. No clicker, no stranger, nothing has made you this nervous. Your hand reaches for the door handle, but before you can turn it, Joel rips open the door.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You stand there, dumbfounded. “I-I don’t know.”

He’s standing over you, his chest rising faster the more you keep your eyes trained on him. He has a green flannel on, the top couple of buttons undone. You lift your hand to touch the skin peeking through, but he stops your movements before you can make contact. You note the scent of wood burning in the cabin and it’s a lot warmer than you left it. Joel must have started the stove again.

“We can’t.”

You shake your head, “No, we can’t, can we?”

You two know better. You know better. You know better.

You are breathing in each other’s spaces. You don’t even want to look him in the eyes. His arm snakes around your midsection, pulling you forward into the cabin. At that moment, you knew that you two didn’t know any better.

It’s almost like you two silently made the decision.

“We can’t tell anyone about this, sweet girl,” He whispers, his hands still firmly on your back. You could not resist this temptation anymore. He was right in front of you, wanting you just as badly as you wanted him.

Your eyes glance up at his dark sultry gaze, “It’s our little secret.”

His hand reaches up, gracing your chin with his touch. When he dips down to meet your height, you finally get bold and extend your hand up and around his neck. Your lips connect and you feel like a million little butterflies explode in your stomach. You had never desired a kiss from anyone as much as you did with Joel.

He’s eager and impatient, though. He’s not as soft as you imagined for a man who hardly spoke. He just wants to feel you everywhere, all at once. His mouth melts into yours, his tongue exploring every inch of yours. He’s moving you around the room, stumbling over furniture and shoes as he backs you into the large wooden bed frame.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” He mumbles into your lips as soon as he lifts you up onto the mattress. It catches you by surprise, mainly because you never expected him to manhandle you in this way. He’s hungry for every inch of you. After all these months of secretly pining for him and him not giving you any positive response, you never anticipated something like this happening. Especially at a time like this.

“Joel,” You whine, pulling him down on top of you as you fall back into the flannel blankets, “I need you everywhere.”

He grins peppering kisses down your neck, “Don’t worry, I will treat you so fuckin’ good. Been wantin’ you for so long.”

It was so filthy and hot. Your dad’s patrol partner, his best friend. Keen to make you feel good? And wanting it for a while? You must be imagining his words because you can’t even comprehend the situation.

But it’s true. Joel’s secretly been watching you when you’re not looking. When you sling drinks on Friday nights, he watches you from a booth in the corner. Tommy’s caught him a couple of times, smacking him and reminding him that you were off limits. When you came to his house with extra pot pie or soup, he would watch you walk away from his house from his living room window.

This taboo yearning kept him up at night. But now, he has you alone and he needs a taste.

He pulls back to look at your face, “Are you sure you want me?”

You can’t help but giggle a bit.

“Joel, I’ve been wanting you for longer than I would like to admit,” You purse your lips as you bring your hand up to trace his collarbone, “Think about you all the time.”

It was the truth. Your mind was taken up but all his little sly comments. The way he would drop anything to help you or your dad. His beautiful brown eyes didn’t help one bit either.

“My god, girl…Gonna have me cumming in my jeans like a teenager.”

He returns to laying kisses all along your body. It started with wet kisses down your neck, only for it to trail right where your shirt begins, right below your collarbones. You push him back for a moment, taking your shirt off over your head. He watched you carefully, ensuring there was no hesitancy with your actions. He wanted to be absolutely positive that this is what you wanted.

As soon as you reach for the clasp of your bra, Joel grabs your arms away.

“Let me,” He mumbles, letting his fingers trace along the seam of the black fabric before using his right hand to undo the back. With him this close to you again, you inhale sharply, catching the scent of your soap.

“See you took up my offer,” You tease, letting your bra fall down your shoulders, “Did you get clean just for this, Miller?”

He catches a glimpse of you under the bra and his mind goes blank. You notice his change in disposition and decide it’s best to discard every other article of clothing completely. You struggle to get your jeans off, so he helps by practically ripping them off your legs. He can’t help but spot the soak undies attached to your jeans. When you are bare under him, he gawks at you for a moment.

“A beautiful woman like you,” He shakes his head, biting his lip. He unbuckles his pants before he stands and shoves them down his legs. While he’s making an effort to get as naked as you, you start unbuttoning his flannel. He watches you take your time, thumbing each button slowly. He tilts your head back up, his eyes leering at you for a moment. “And you want someone like me?”

You know he’s probably in his own head, so you feel the need to prove to him, that yes this is what I want.

You grab onto his neck and pull him back down into a passionate kiss. When you notice him give in, you use all your might to push him sideways and onto his back next to you. You mount his lap immediately, holding him down with your body weight. Your soaked slit trudges over his large hard-on while you dip your head to capture his lips. You feel his hands trail up the sides of your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He finds your boobs, palming them with his warm calloused hands. You were extra sensitive so as soon as his fingers find your nipples, you’re moaning into his mouth.

When your hips jet forward, his tip slides between your pussy lips. The sensation sends him into overdrive, his grip on your waist getting tighter. He’s so fucking big.

“No foreplay, you just wanna grind your pussy right onto my cock?” His question sends shockwaves through your body and you raise your hips up off his crotch. You kneel over him, anticipating to rotate your pelvis back onto him, but he has other ideas.

Because Joel has been thinking about what you taste like for too long. He can’t just fuck you. He lays back, all the while, dragging you up to his chest so your pussy is hovering over his pursed lips.

“Joel, what are you doing?”

You feel his hot breath huff onto your slick center, “I’m gonna devour this beautiful pussy, first. Need to get you warmed up.”

Without any warning, he wraps his arms around your thighs and pushes your center closer to his outstretched tongue. You gasp when he starts to run his tongue up and down your slit. You can’t help but settle around his face, your knees feeling like they may already give out.

You’ve never sat on someone’s face and watched them eat you out like a starved man. But Joel is precise with his motions, his mouth wrapping around your clit. When he starts to suck, the suction noise makes you whimper and shake. You have only ever cum by your own hand, so when the familiar heat rises in your stomach, you know instantly this is going to be the best sex you’ve ever had in your life.

Joel is a very easy man to please. He thoroughly enjoys watching women crumble above him, their orgasms surging through their bodies while his tongue is pressed into them. But with you, he wants to drudge it out of you over and over again. You’re so magnetic on top of him, your head thrown back in pleasure. Your hands rest on your shoulders as you grind down on him, your peak teetering the edge. He shimmies his hand in between your thighs and begins to use his fingers in you, just to drive you crazier. He’s fucking up into you with his pointer and middle fingers, managing to latch onto your clit while he does.

When you tumble into bliss, Joel moans into you, egging on your spasms. You lurch forward, dragging your center off his drenched lips. Your legs are limp as you try to crawl up the bed. Joel rolls over, creeping up the bed with you. You lay on your back, propping yourself up onto some of the pillows.

“Do you need a break?” He asks, his hands feeling up your bare, still kind of shaking, thighs. You shake your head “yes” and breathe out loudly. Your body is covered in a light sheen, the sweat pooling around your hairline. Joel lets you take a moment, making sure you are completely ready for him.

When you finally meet his eyes, your stomach fills with butterflies. He’s admiring you from his position, his eyes not finding yours until he’s done checking out your bare chest. You giggle, tugging on his wrists. He takes up your advances, positioning himself above you. He’s caging you in with his tanned strong arms, only allowing you to really move your upper body. You tangle your hands through his messy dark peppered curls, which makes him sigh. He secretly loved it when women felt through his hair.

“Fuck me,” He groans as he reaches down between you, grabbing ahold of his hard member. You watch as he drags it through your heat, gathering all your wetness before teasing your entrance.

“Joel, please.”

He smirks, pushing in just his tip, “Please what, baby girl? You want me to give you all of it?”

You are already overstimulated after your last orgasm and you are a bit nervous to imagine what all of it is. You nod, though, because the stretch is already so delicious.

“Please, Joel, please. I need it,” You whine, knowing how desperate you sound. It’s music to Joel’s ears.

“Shh, baby,” He eases in further, “I told you I’m gonna treat you real good. Gonna treat this pussy, so fuckin’ good.”

When he’s fully sheathed in you, your nails are digging into his shoulders. When he eases back to pull out some to ensure you can take it, you’re a moaning mess. It only eggs him on, feeling how slick you are and how tight you are around him.

“That’s right baby, take all of me,” He says as he lifts himself off you. You have nothing to grip onto now, except the sheets that line the queen-sized bed. Joel wants to watch himself slip out of you and go back into you with ease. You love the friction, but you know you need more.

You don’t know how, but it’s like he reads your mind. He starts to increase his pace, holding onto the back of your thighs as he drills into you. The curvature of his dick hits exactly where no man could ever reach.

“Oh my god, fuck Joel! Fuck!”

Your words only encourage him to go harder and faster.

“Keep screamin’ my name, baby doll.”

The sweat is dripping down his face with how much effort he’s putting into fucking you. You’re floored at how quickly your orgasm builds again, the sounds of him plowing into you alone sends you into overdrive.

As soon as you start to vibrate under him, Joel takes that as a great time to start thumbing at your clit. You feel every one of your nerve endings burning with such rapture, that you can’t even say anything. You’re just howling, no coherent words even coming out. Your vision goes white.

The scene is something out of the old pornos Joel used to watch. You’re writhing under him, the orgasm practically sending you cross-eyed. You reach up to anchor yourself down and the only thing you can find to grab is Joel’s forearm.

“Yes, Joel!”

His hips continue to snap into yours as you squeeze his cock with your gyrating hips. He’s fucking you through it, watching your face contort. Your grip on his arm hurts, but he does not care. It’s unbelievably hot to watch the girl he has adored from afar cumming around him. Over and over.

The scene is enough to have him chasing down his own high. The feeling of your cunt gripping onto him so tight, while his name is chanted from your lips, the cum practically shoots out of him before he has time to grab his shaft and pull out. He does not empty himself in you though, quickly prying himself out of your weeping hole and spilling out the rest onto your stomach.

“Shit.”

You don’t even realize what happened, not caring about really anything except for how wonderful and high you feel. Joel tumbles onto his side, half of his body resting on yours. His mouth is close to your ear so he whispers it to you, his voice shaky.

“I came inside you.”

You lick your lips, trying to regain some saliva in your mouth, “I do not care, Joel.”

He does not prefer that answer, but he accepts it for the time being. You could not feel your face at the moment, you did not have time to worry yourself over Joel cumming inside you. It was not the first time someone did that.

Joel rolls off the bed, his legs feeling wobbly with his first steps. He’s still half hard and stumbling over to the bowl of water he just used to clean off himself. He grabs a clean rag and soaks it in the soapy water. The least he could do was clean up his mess.

You watch him trudge over to you, the cum still pooled on your stomach and a bit in your belly button.

Joel places the warm towel on your lower tummy, wiping up his mess.

“Thanks,” You manage to say, your post-orgasm haze wearing off a bit. Now you’re just cold and exhausted. You shiver as soon as he removes the towel from your buzzing body. He notes it immediately and grabs the blanket that had been kicked to the floor. He lays it over you, making sure your full nude body is covered by the chilly air.

“I need to go take a leak, I’ll be right back.”

You try to stay awake. But as soon as he gets some clothes on and heads outside to relieve himself, you’re lulled to sleep by the sounds of the rustling woods that surround the cabin.

When you slowly open your eyes, you instantly notice how dry your mouth is. The itchy fabric of the blanket is tickling your bare limbs as you shift. Joel’s not beside you.

You sit up, glancing around the cabin. His stuff is still here, but he is not. You keep the scratchy blanket wrapped around you as you plant your bare feet on the wooden floor. As soon as you take your first step forward towards the front door, it slowly swings open.

Joel stands there, fully clothed, cheeks reddened from the cold outdoors.

“Mornin’,” He says with a sleepy voice, “Got up early to get the horses fed and saddled up.”

All you remember is him going to pee outside last night, right before you fell asleep. “Did you ever come to bed last night?”

“Yeah, only got a couple of hours of sleep. You took up most of the bed.”

You clear your throat, becoming hyper-aware suddenly that you are very naked under the blanket. Joel tries not to notice your natural sensuality when you wake up. Sleepy eyes, swollen lips, slightly tangled hair. Even if last night never happened, he would be completely enamored by you.

“Oh, okay,” You mutter, trying to act natural about the fact that you slept with Joel fucking Miller last night. “We all set then?”

He shuts the front door, cutting off any more cold from slipping in. You watch him slowly start to invade your space. He feels pulled towards you, the gravity overcoming every sense he has. He needs to be close to you, touching you, feeling you.

“Yeah, we are all set.”

Chills run down your spine when his cold hand reaches out and grazes your cheek. You flick your eyelashes towards him, not knowing what to say next. He dips down to your height, kissing your lips carefully. He is nervous you will back away from him, but you don’t. You lean forward into him, the weight of your entire body pressing into him.

He is the first to pull away, but you swear you could be latched onto him forever. His big brown eyes are lasered in on your eager lips, but in the back of his mind, he knows that you two need to get back home soon. He promised Tommy four days, nothing more. And you needed to get home to your Dad. Fuck. Your Dad. His fuckin’ friend.

“We have to get home,” Is all he says.

And then he’s gone. It’s like he blipped out of the room. You blink and the door slams and you are alone again.

You stumble out of the cabin with your backpack on, your eyes adjusting to the sunshine between the falling away leaves. Winter creeps in so quickly in Wyoming, you think to yourself.

Joel is already posted up on his horse, waiting for you to hurry along and join him. You pet Ranger for a moment before you hop up onto his back. He can’t help but realize how perfect you seemed in the sunlight. Your face hasn’t aged with time like his. It makes sense because you’re so much younger than him. You’ve lived a very full and traumatic life, sure, but you still had a lot more energy to live. He couldn’t picture that you’d want to spend the rest of it with an older guy with maybe 20 more years left in him if you’re lucky.

The thoughts start to eat away at him as you two make your way through the forest.

You assume he’s just tired from not getting a lot of sleep, so you just keep your lips sealed until you make it to the main trail back home.

“So, when we get home,” You break the quietness with your open-ended statement. Joel doesn’t know what you’re insinuating, so he just keeps his head forward. “What happens, then?”

He pulls back his horse's reins to position himself looking directly at you.

“What do you mean?”

You look at him suspiciously, “Do we tell people?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Joel thinks.

“Tell them what?”

He has to be messing, right? You think.

But no, he’s deadly serious.

“About us,” You remark as Ranger trots a bit closer to Joel. He shakes his head and your heart sinks. He can’t do this, not after you two slept together.

“There is no us,” He grumbles, unable to look you in the eyes anymore, “We can’t do that. You’re too young.”

If you weren’t on a horse, you would’ve already smacked him. “What the hell, Joel? What if you get in my pants and make me feel special and now we are nothing? Because I’m a little bit younger than you?”

“No, it’s not like that-”

“Well, it seems like it is like that,” You bite the inside of your cheeks, holding back every instinct to burst into tears, “Fuckin’ asshole. I should’ve known better.”

When the walls of Jackson come into your line of sight, you could cry with excitement. Your hands were shaking, not only from the cold but the nerves. You had been silent the entire ride back. Your only desire was to get home to your Dad and ignore Joel Miller for the rest of your life.

You can only hope and pray that your father is on the mend. To keep on track and not let panic take over, you’ve tried to put your mind on other things this whole trip. Most of those things you wish you’d forgotten, already.

The doors open when you two get close. When the crack is big enough to see through, you spot some familiar faces waiting for you. Tommy, Maria, and even your father. He’s standing up straight, wrapped in layers of jackets and blankets. You tap Ranger with your foot, getting him to speed up. When you reach about 30 feet away, you practically fall off him to get your arms around your father.

A sense of relief floods your body. A tidal wave of happiness and solace. He’s okay. He’s alive.

When his scent reaches your nose, it triggers your tear ducts. After years of never having to really worry about him, knowing he can handle himself, you have felt this constant state of uneasiness the last week.

“My baby is back,” He grumbles into your hair, his arms locking around you, “I knew I could trust that Joel.”

You don’t have time to feel guilt over your actions, you’re just so happy he’s upright. You also don’t want to hear his God-forsaken name from your own Dad. When you pull back to inspect his face, you note the tiredness in his eyes. He looks better, but not his normal. You grab each end of the blanket that’s slowly slipping off his shoulders and bundle him tighter.

“Let’s get you back in the warm, how ‘bout it?”

You glance back at Joel who just nods, knowingly. You remember that you still have your backpack on, so before you stroll away, you shimmy out of it. Tommy watches you carefully as you hand it off to Joel.

“Get those meds to the infirmary,” You whisper to no one in particular. Joel studies your face, waiting for you to say something else. You do not. As he grabs your pack, you feel like Maria and Tommy are gawking at you two. Like they know something was left unsaid.

You two move differently around each other. When you shift one direction, Joel follows suit.

Joel feels like every eye in Jackson is on him. Tommy’s being the most piercing, watching him like a hawk as he grabs his horse and guides him towards the stables. While you stroll away with Maria and your father, Joel and Tommy bring the horses and supplies to the stables.

As you walk, you listen to Maria explain your father’s steady recovery. She mentions how Ellie has been keeping a careful eye on him. After she heard you and Joel were going to be gone together, she asked Maria if she could help him somehow. Once your dad got well enough to walk, she got him settled in your house. She’d go over there for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, just to help. It makes your heart swell when you hear your dad say how kind and generous she was, just like you.

Joel starts to unpack your bags from your horse first when he gets the horses parked.

“Somethin’ happen out there?” Tommy presses, noticing how odd you and Joel moved in front of him, “With her?”

“No, nothin’,” He lies, placing your bags on a table near Ranger. When he lifted the first duffle bag, he got a whiff of you and it made his stomach sink. “We just had a rough spot in the hospital. Clickers and shit. Nothin’ too crazy-”

“Joel, I know when you’re lyin’ to me,” His eyes are shooting daggers now. Joel was too old to be pestered by his little brother. He groans in annoyance but Tommy does not give up, “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do nothin’, Tommy.”

“Bullshit,” He grumbles, grabbing one of your bags, “Want me to ask her?”

“You won’t get anythin’ out of her. She’s mad at me, okay? She is pissed I won’t…”

He feels humiliated, his stomach twisting into knots. He would never intentionally hurt you. He just put his foot in his mouth when he realized how much your actions would change everything for him. He could not just be someone you slept with. He could not just leave it.

“You won’t what, Joel?”

He bites his lip, not wanting to say it out loud.

“I won’t let her ruin her life for me.”

Tommy’s eyebrows furrow, not completely understanding what he’s droning on about.

“What?”

“Jesus Christ, Tommy!” Joel wasn’t anticipating a shake-down when he got home. You two really didn’t help with those looks splattered across your faces when you rolled into Jackson.

“You slept with her, didn’t you?”

Joel shakes his head, peeling his eyes away from Tommy. Joel knew nothing could get past him, so he is practically surrendering. Tommy knew then.

“You dumbass,” He whispers, getting closer to Joel, “You slept with her when her daddy is your patrol partner? After I told you to stay away?”

Joel clenches his teeth, “I don’t need this right now. I’m gettin’ these meds to the infirmary and then I’m takin’ her stuff to her.”

“Joel-”

“Just fuckin’ drop it, Tommy. I ain’t doin’ this.”

Your Dad has a nice setup, thanks to Ellie. She has transformed the downstairs guest room into a wonderful stay, with tons of pillows and bedside service. When you get inside the house, Ellie is there. She stands in the corner of the living room, timidly, as you guide your dad back to his warm bed. Maria and her wait for you to handle getting him back to his bedroom. Even though his recovery has been a steady incline, he’s very weak and exhausted all the time. It’s his body’s reaction to fighting a rough illness, but he made sure to reassure you that Sidney told him it’ll be a couple of weeks before he’s 100% back to normal.

You get him back in bed, his eyes already drooping to find slumber again. You manage to get his shoes off and help him under his covers. Once his head hits the pillow, you stand by the bed for a minute to ensure he’s actually sleeping. You slip out of the room, and the sudden rush of comfort of being home takes over your senses. To hear the crackling of the fireplace, and the smell of your homemade candles. While you enjoyed every moment spent with Joel, there’s nothing like home.

For a second there, you thought you had that same feeling being next to him in bed. But maybe you were wrong.

You walk out to where Maria and Ellie stand. They are mumbling to each other while you kick off your boots by the door.

“Hey, Ellie,” You catch her attention, her freckled face down turning with concern. You smile, trying to ease her, “Thank you for all you’ve done here. I am glad he had someone like you looking after him.”

She nods, her lips twitching, “It’s no problem at all. I know how much you two mean to Joel and I just wanted to do what I could.”

Hearing his name sinks your heart, “We owe ya one.”

Because you did. No matter what would eventually transpire between you and Joel, you owe him your father’s life. His idea saved him. With how sick he was, Joel’s quick plan was enough to bring him home. Then for Ellie to spend her days looking after him while you two were gone? You were forever indebted to them. Sadly.

“Well, we should leave you to get settled. Let us know if you need anything at all,” Maria gestures to Ellie towards the front door. Their footsteps trail around you, heading to your front door. Before Ellie can reach for the handle, there’s a knock. You nod your head, letting her know it’s okay to open it.

Joel stands there, your bags in his hands.

You honestly just left your belongings for him to deal with. Joel looks down at Ellie, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. She’s not as impressed, initially.

“Hey kiddo,” Joel acknowledges, before spotting Maria, “Mrs. Miller.”

“We were just heading out,” Maria says, pushing the door wider so she and Ellie can slip by his large frame, “Give the girl her things and let her settle back into her life, huh?”

Joel was already annoyed at the narrowed eyes and judgemental jabs. It’s like everyone somehow knew he fucked up.

You two watch Maria and Ellie leave, their breaths forming clouds in the cold sharp air. Jackson’s weather changed overnight, you think, remembering how it was more tolerable before you left.

“Can I come in?” Joel ponders, still holding your backpack and duffle.

It was cold and while you wanted to slam the door on him, you know you can’t. You move away from the threshold, gesturing for him to come in. His footfalls are heavy and drawn out. You shut the door, waving him towards the living room so your voices don’t carry down the hallway to your father’s newly set up bedroom.

He places your bags on the couch before he stretches his shoulders in discomfort. Your stuff was not that heavy, but Joel could not help but try to draw your attention. He glances around your living room, taking in some of the artwork and photos that line the walls. Some are old photos of you and your father, in which you don’t really resemble him at all.

“Back to how things were, huh?” You remark, bitterly. You wanted to attack him with every mean thing plaguing your mind, but you don’t. You were tired from all the travels but you were also tired of the idea of fighting for someone who does not care to fight for you back. You had done that for years with pointless boys.

The whole walk to your house, Joel’s thoughts were moving a million miles a minute. He did not want you to live your life resenting him. He cared for you deeply, but he did not want you to miss out on all the wonders of life. Joel could not give you kids. He could not give you 40 more years of happiness. He would be an elderly man before you could even reach menopause. He does not want you to regret things when you’re old and gray.

“I don’t want that. You know damn well I don’t want that.”

You could scream. But you stay even, not giving in to the temptation to just rip him a new one.

“I don’t know what you want, Joel. One minute you’re kissin’ me and begging to be with me, the next you’re telling me you can’t be with me because I’m too young.”

“Baby-”

“No! Don’t you dare? You had no intention of making this a thing, yet you played into it and got exactly what you wanted. I’m just another notch for you, ain’t I?”

Your hands are clenched, waiting for his delayed response. You are embarrassed and humiliated that you were delusional enough to let Joel toy with every one of your emotions.

“You know that ain’t true, girl. I just don’t want you to live your life regretting that I was a part of it, okay? You want to spend your days with an old man who can’t give you everything you want? ’m not good for you.”

He can’t let you make this mistake.

But you’re not easing up.

“What do you think I want? Kids? A simple life? A picket fence? Joel those are things I wanted when I was living in a world that didn’t have a brain-eating infection that’d turn people into zombies,” You’re huffing and puffing, trying to understand why he thinks he can tell you what you need and want.

“I spent years of my life wishing I could get those things, but I gave up a long ass time ago. I don’t want those things nearly as much as I want you. I fuckin’ want you, okay?”

You realize you’re not being quiet and your Dad could probably hear every word falling from your lips. He can hear you desperately plead with Joel Miller to be with you.

Joel is shocked you’re laying all this out. He can’t believe his ears when you say you want him. A man like him being wanted is quite unbelievable, especially by a woman like you.

You could hear a pin drop with how silent your house is. You fold your arms, trying not to give into the nausea you feel from spilling your soul to him.

“I just…” He fidgets with his hands for a minute before those puppy eyes glance up at you, “I don’t want to ruin your life.”

You step closer to him, your face inches away from him. You train your eyes on his mouth, unsure how to respond to such blasphemy.

“I have spent so many days thinking about what it’d be like to live in a world where the Joel Miller would even glance in my direction. I imagined what it’d be like to kiss him,” You’re whispering now, making sure this revelation is for his ears only, “I imagined what it’d be like to have a man who’d treat me well and look… Exactly like you. I have dreamed of you.”

Joel would have never guessed such a statement fall from your lips.

You breathe out, relieved it’s finally off your chest.

“I just don’t want to leave ya worse than I found ya,” His softness instantly makes you crumble into his arms. He holds you tight, before pulling away to search your face. You teeter forward on your toes, pressing a firm but attentive kiss to his lips.

When you draw back, “I’m not givin’ you up, Joel.”

The tension is shattered when you hear your Dad yell your name from down the hallway. You snap out of your trance of staring at Joel’s beautiful lips and dart toward the voice.

“Yeah?”

You open the door and see him, his eyes wide open and focused on the door.

“Who you talking to out there? Is that Joel?”

Suddenly you’re hyper-aware of every word you just said, scared half to death that your Dad would get out of bed and beat some sense into you. Joel follows you down the dimly lit hallway, but you don’t even hear him, too rattled by your father’s question.

“Yes, it’s me,” Joel speaks up, coming forward to meet your Dad’s confused expression, “How you feelin’, man?”

“I’m feelin’ like I’m hearing some odd things from down the hall. You two fighting?” His voice is breaking a bit.

The silence after he asks the question is deafening. You glance over to Joel whose mouth is slightly ajar, unable to move with an answer. You bite the inside of your cheek, wishing you could disappear into the wall nearby.

Joel cannot lie to his friend. He certainly would never do it with you right beside him.

“Yeah, you uh, heard us?” He barely manages.

“Yeah, I sure as hell heard my daughter beggin’ you to take her on, is that true?”

“Dad-“

“My daughter wants to date a man that’s 10 years younger than her own father? Kind of twisted.” He snaps, shoving the blankets off his legs. “But, I am gonna be honest… I expected this.”

You can hardly breathe with the tension in the air.

“Sorry?”

Joel’s tone is dry, and he’s unable to fully form a coherent thought.

Your dad coughs before he starts, “Well, I could tell by the way you looked at her that you had a thing for her, Miller. Didn’t think you’d be dumb enough to entertain it.”

“Dad, he’s not dum-“

“And I thought you’d get over this little schoolgirl crush, but I was mistaken, I guess.”

You were used to your Dad’s sarcasm and upfront jabs. You spent a lifetime throwing them back at him, but this time you had nothing to say. You watch as he settles back from obnoxiously tearing off his blankets.

You fiddle with your fingers, trying not to show your internal anxiety-riddled monologue. He thought you’d get over your crush. He always noticed how Joel looked at you. How did he look at you? How did you never notice?

Joel is spiraling, reverting to his original conclusions. He knew this was a horrible idea. He should have never stepped over the line. He’s a horrible man. You don’t deserve someone as awful as him.

He smacks his lips, making you and Joel come back down to Earth and out of your heads.

“Whatever is happenin’ between you two, I probably will never fully understand it. But you are adults, you do whatever makes you happy,” He says with both hands up in surrender, “I am too old to bother with my daughter’s love life. She’s a big girl, I trust her. But Miller, if you hurt her-“

“I’m a dead man.”

Your father laughs which in turn makes you smile crookedly.

“Just one thing,” He points to you, “I don't want to hear or see anythin’-”

You nod, cutting him off immediately, “Deal.”

Joel catches your eye when he smiles in your peripheral vision. You look over at him, a grin plastered to your face.

You can’t believe you’re actually going to do this.

And Joel can’t believe your father somewhat agreed to let it happen. He was sure he would have a gun in his face before he could even mutter a word. But instead, your Dad is receptive to him being with you, which is all you can ask for.

“Well, get along now, I wanna get back to sleep. You two were keepin’ me up,” Your dad grumbles, readjusting his frail frame to get comfortable in bed. You just nod, pointing at the door for Joel to exit. You follow suit, closing the door behind you tightly, making sure it clicks. Joel stands in the darkness of the hallway, waiting. He is in disbelief.

You just take one of his hands and bring it to your lips, softly pressing a kiss into his knuckles.

“Let’s go get cleaned up and take a nap,” You murmur, walking him to the end of the hallway to the bottom of the stairs. He accepts the offer, trailing behind you like a lost puppy.

You were not sure where this was all going to end up. Neither of you did. But you could not wait to carve the way with him, bringing every last one of your daydreams to life.

THE END

or is it? I have started writing snippets to go along with this story- if you want more, here's the link:

No One Fucks With My Baby

#joel miller fic #joel miller #joel x reader #joel miller x fem reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #joel miller the last of us #joel miller tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel last of us smut #joel miller x reader #the last of us #post outbreak joel #dbf joel #dbf joel miller #gracieheartspedro #fic: who we are

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imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul · 28 days

Text

The Prince - Chapter Ten

A/N: Hello! I apologize that this is late, I meant to post last night but then I facetimed by bestie for 4 hours and got drunk. ANYWAYS, I present to you the final chapter of The Prince. Thank you so much for all your love and support on this story! I hope you enjoy this finale <3

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader Word Count: 4.6k Synopsis: Finally, we see the end of Jace and the reader's story.

Warnings: smut

Previous Chapter

Rhaenyra is understandably furious when Jace comes to see her the next morning. He had not wanted to leave you for long, so all he told her was a quick summary of the events in your room. She had wanted to rage, had wanted to know exactly everything that happened, wanted to see the proof for herself, but when he asked to postpone the meeting, she read the look in his eyes. It was fear. It was fading, but it was still there. Fear for you, fear for himself, fear that everything he had wanted was slipping through his fingers.

So she had let him leave, let him go to you, as long as he promised to find her first thing in the morning. Her rage had not abated in the night.

“If I could kill him again, I would,” she says, looking at the, thankfully, light bruising along his neck. Jace pulls back from her, not wanting the attention the bruises now gave him.

“Did you send word to the Iron Islands?” he asks.

“I sent a raven last night to his brother, the Lord Blacktyde."

“What does this mean for our standing?” he asks. Last night, besides his thoughts of dread that he almost lost you, he was also plagued by what the realm would think. Their position was still so new, to have an attack on his life so soon—

“The only thing the realm will know is that Lord Blacktyde attacked Y/N and the two of you fought him off,” Rhaenyra says.

“The two of us," Jace says softly. He brings his eyes to his mother's. She watches him delicately, like he might break with just a touch. "I'm fine, Mother," he says. She nods.

"I know."

"It looks worse than it is," he says. He wishes he could pull the collar of his doublet up, just to block them from her sight, and yours. Your eyes had been on the bruises all night long. "What of Y/N and I?” he asks. Rhaenyra smiles, her earlier rage ebbing away.

“Y/N saved your life, do you think I would deny her anything?”

“I was not sure,” he says, his smile spreading.

“I think it’s clear the two of you would do anything to stay together. I won’t get in the way. Before last evening, I had a few doubts, but after what Y/N did for you, and speaking with Baela, I trust this is the right decision."

"Baela?" he asks, furrowing his brow. "What did she say?"

“She seems excited about finding a new prospect,” she says. "Or a few."

"She does."

"You both have found happiness, and that is all I've ever wanted."

“Thank you,” Jace says, taking his mother’s hand with a smile. He feels more at ease, knowing that the events of last night only solidified your love.

The cool air of the gardens heals some of the pain inside of you. Of course, your hand still throbs after the maester had to redo your stitches. You are sore all over and have an angry bruise on your cheekbone, but amongst the flowers and the breeze, you feel light. The nightmare you lived in for years is over.

It doesn't feel real. Even after you went to your chambers this morning, looking down at the wet area the maids had scrubbed clean of Barun's blood, you still felt like you were dreaming. That you'd wake up and he would be waiting for you still.

You had woken up a few times in the night, startled from the dreams playing in your head. Jace had been there. His voice was still strained, but he said soothing words and held you close. He was the reason you could believe that it was over, that it would get easier.

He sent word for you to meet him in the gardens, but as you lap around the outer edge again, you still don’t see him. When you stop, its by the door you skipped out of months ago, to hide from your date.

Smiling, you realize where Jace is. You walk to the alcove with the fountain, the place where Jace first confessed his feelings for you. He is pacing beside the fountain when you walk up.

"Are you hiding from me?" you ask, jostling him from his thoughts.

"Never from you," he says, wrapping an arm around your waist. He left early in the morning, and he hadn't seen you until now. His eyes flit to the bruise along your cheek. It seems to only be getting darker as the day progresses.

"Jace," you say gently. His thumb brushes over the mark.

"He didn't suffer enough."

"It doesn't matter," you say with a shake of your head. "He's gone, and he does not deserve our remembrance." Against your better judgement, you look to the bruises along Jace's neck. Yours is darker, but his take up too much space on his beautiful neck.

"Y/N," he says, seeing the sadness in your eyes.

"I'm sorry, Jace. He never should have even come close to you."

"You never have to apologize for what happened."

"He hurt you."

"He hurt you, too," he says, a hand to your chin so your eyes meet his brown ones. "If this is the mark I must bear, so that he is out of your life, I'll wear them with pride."

"I don't deserve you," you say, a hand to his chest, your eyes starting to water.

"Of course you do," he says. You lean in to kiss his jawline once, twice. Jace is smiling softly when your lips meet his. The hand on your back tightens, holding you flush to him. When you pull back, Jace has a strange look on his face.

"What is it?" you ask.

"Do you remember the first time we came here?"

"Of course."

"You almost kissed me," he says, a shy smile growing on his face.

"That was a recurring pattern in our history, yes," you say. "But seems like we're past that." He smiles as he leans in again, his hand fisting in your hair, kissing your lips. He deepens it, backing you up until your legs rest against the fountain.

"Jace," you say, breaking away as he continues to kiss your face. You laugh when you say his name again. He breaks away, the smile still on his face.

"Sorry, just being back here reminds me of the last time, how much I wanted to kiss you back then," he says. "Sometimes, I can't believe this is real, that you love me back." You are smiling softly as you take his hand and kiss it gently.

"I know what you mean," you say. "It doesn't seem real. It's easier when I wake up next to you. Then I have the proof I'm not dreaming. I don't want to return to my chambers tonight."

"You don't have to," he says, squeezing your hand.

"It's not just the room," you say, "It's not being with you."

"I know, which is why I'm moving you into my chambers permanently."

"Jace, the message that would send--"

"What's wrong with a woman sharing the same room as her husband?" he asks. Confusion passes over your face for a moment, but quickly changes to amazement.

"What?" you choke out, the building emotions keeping you from saying much else. You need him to say it clearly, though.

"My mother has assured me that her blessing still stands. We can marry."

"Truly?" you ask.

"Yes," he says, pulling you close. "Doesn't this make you happy?" He studies your face.

"Oh, it absolutely terrifies me," you say with a laugh. "But it also makes me incredibly happy." He beams at you.

"You have nothing to be afraid of. Not when I'm at your side."

"I love you," you say, a hand to his face.

"I love you."

When he kisses you again, your arms wrap around his neck, and neither of you break away for a long while.

The wedding has been pushed until the bride and groom no longer have bruises marring their skin. The decision was also made that your wedding would be a private event. Although there would soon be a time when you would have to face the realm as princess, you want to stay in your bubble with Jace for as long as possible.

It's a lovely bubble to be in, too. To wake up next to him every morning, to learn more about him, to get to bask in his love and not hide away; you don't take it for granted for a second.

However, as the wedding approaches, the bubble gets closer to popping. You will only have five days of officially being his wife before you have to be presented as his princess.

Jace tries to keep your mind off of it, tries to keep you in the bubble. Still though, your anxious thoughts cloud your happiness.

Laying in bed now, you stare at the ceiling, imagining everything that can go wrong.

"What if they don't like me?" you ask aloud. Jace pushes out of the folds of your dress, wiping at his mouth.

“Why wouldn’t they like you?” he asks on a pant.

“Because I’m not what they expected, because our betrothal came out of nowhere.”

“No, it didn’t.”

“To the realm, it will appear so.”

“Y/N,” Jace say with a sigh, his hand tracing a soft pattern on your ankle. “They are going to love you because you will make a great queen. You are kind, smart, and not afraid to fight for the future of the realm.” He kisses your thigh and smiles. “Not to mention, you are so gods-damn beautiful, just a glance at you will have them bending the knee.”

“You exaggerate,” you say.

"I do not."

"You do," you say, "But I love you, still."

“I love you,” he says. “Now please, stop worrying and let me focus on what I was doing.”

“Yes, My Prince,” you say with a smile. You lay back as Jace’s lips meet your center, and this time, you let his mouth distract you from your worries.

Jace has never been happier. Watching you dance with his brother, he can't help the smile on his face. He hasn't been able to all day. From the moment he awoke, to when he finally saw you in your wedding dress, to the celebration now: his smile never fades.

The moment the song ends, he moves towards you, taking you from Joffrey's arms.

"Oh, hello," you say with a grin, falling into step with him.

"Hello," he says with a matching one.

"Joff and I barely finished our dance," you say.

"I didn't want to be apart from you any longer."

"Well I can understand that," you say. He kisses your lips easily.

"I'm so glad I can do that in front of everyone now."

"Me too."

"How does it feel?" he asks.

"Still so strange. Like I'm in the wrong shoes," you say. He shakes his head at you.

"There's something I've wanted to tell you," he says, "And I'm sorry it's on our wedding night, but I need you to know." You look at him nervously. "You've always been worthy. You didn't have to kill Barun and save me, you just had to be you."

You are silent for a moment, tears watering in your eyes. Your fingers are in his curls, playing carefully with them.

"I love you," you say.

"I love you."

"Brigitta," Jace says, his voice sensuously soft. "You are not needed for the night. I can help the princess undress." You look at him through the mirror in your bedroom, a sudden chill racing over your shoulders.

"Very well, Your Highnesses."

Jace doesn't even wait until she's left to come up behind you. His hand snakes around your waist, pressing his body into yours. He makes a sound low in his throat.

"I don't know if I will ever get used to that," you say, leaning your head back on his shoulder. He kisses your neck softly.

"Used to what?" he asks against your skin. His hands trail over your body, like it's the first time they've ever touched you.

"Being called princess," you say breathlessly. Jace's mouth closes on your neck, sucking gently.

"Why?" he asks. His hands move up to cup your breasts. He seems set on distracting you from speaking. He kneads them softly, eliciting a soft moan from you.

"Because I am not--"

"If you say anything about not being worthy," he says, breathless as he continues to feel your body, biting at your earlobe. "I will stop touching you."

"You can't comfort your new bride?" you ask, squirming against his body, the growing pressure there.

"I will do a lot to her," he whispers gruffly in your ear, "But pity her I will not." You grab at his hands, holding him still.

"Jace."

"Fucking look at you, Y/N," he says, meeting your gaze in the mirror. "You were meant to wear these clothes, this crown, this ring." He emphasizes his statement by squeezing your left hand.

"I was meant to wear this dress?" you ask. Jace grins.

"Not for much longer." His hand is gentle as it brushes your hair over your shoulder. Carefully, he pulls at the laces along your back. He moves agonizingly slow. Each time his fingers touch your bare skin, you shudder, until you are covered in goosebumps. Jace laughs against your skin.

"I love you," he says simply, then he lets your dress drop. "Princess."

"Jace," you start, but he cuts you off by turning you around, facing him.

"You better get used to it," he says. "There's no backing out now."

"I don't intend to."

"Good," he says, closing the gap between the two of you. He moves slowly, like he did your first night together. A hand in your hair, he explores your mouth easily. Your hands are on his chest, fiddling with the clasp of his cape. When it falls, it clatters to the ground. Jace pulls back from you with a soft laugh.

"Thank you, Princess."

"Stop that," you say, pulling him in for a quick kiss.

"Not until you're used to it," he says firmly. You loosen the ties at his side and he quickly tosses his doublet aside.

"This one, too," you say, a finger to the loose shirt he wears underneath.

"Yes, Princess," he says with a smirk. "I like when you tell me what to do." His shirt lands in a pile with your dress. His hand cups your cheek as he smiles at you, at your annoyance.

"I'm used to it now," you say, wrapping your arms around him. "You can stop now."

"It is so enjoyable though, Pri--" Your lips meet his, cutting him off. You want none of his slowness tonight. He can taste your need as your tongue slips into his mouth. He hums, bracing a hand on the back of your head to keep you close. The bed seems leagues away as he guides you towards it.

"Y/N," he says in breathless awe, watching your body as you sit on the bed. "You're my wife, my princess." A look passes over his face you know all too well.

"I know," you say, sitting up on your knees, so you are level with him once more. "Now, get up here and fuck your wife." He wraps warm hands around your waist. He speaks against your lips.

"My Princess." He crashes down on top of you, kissing you fiercely. You groan into his mouth, partially because of what he's doing, and partially because of what he called you.

He breaks for breath first, his mouth pink and smiling as he looks down at you. His arms bracket your face. You lean to the side and softly kiss his left hand.

"What is it?" you ask when he keeps looking at you.

"I can't decide between taking my time with you, or taking you roughly." He laughs at the whimper you make. "Slow it is."

"Jace," you say, gasping as his lips meet yours. He bites at your lower lip, eliciting another sound from you. His mouth moves down the length of your neck, leaving slow kisses in his wake.

He says your name, calls you princess, and tells you how beautiful you are, the entire way down your body. He stops at your hip, smirking at the face you pull.

"Y/N," he says lowly, smiling when your body jerks as he slide a fingers a finger through the wet warmth between your legs.

"Yes, My Prince?" you ask. He laughs.

"See, it's not so strange," he says. He adds another finger, both of them deliciously close to your clit, but never fully touching it.

"You were born into the name," you say breathlessly.

"So what?" His fingers slide inside of you. You moan, reaching for him. He holds your hand with his other.. You grip his hand as he pumps slowly. He kisses your inner thigh, slowly, slowly, moving his mouth to your center.

"Jace," you whine.

"Yes?"

"I--" His thumb finally grazes over your clit and you cry out.

"Tell me what you need, Princess." You roll your eyes, but it only makes him work his fingers harder. "Tell me."

"I need your mouth or your cock," you pant. Jace doesn't respond. The moment the words are out of your mouth, his is on your center. His touch is everything you want, and your body thrusts into him. You have devolved to a string of moans, swears, and gasps.

"You taste so good, Princess," he says against your skin. You can't even be annoyed, because when he's between your legs, whispering sweet nothings, it doesn't sound so strange.

"Jace," you cry out, when finally, the building pressure breaks in waves of pleasure. He rides you through it as always, a smile on his face when his fingers slide out of you. He moves up to your lips, kissing them sloppily.

"I'm never going to get tired of hearing my name on your lips," he says.

"I should just go back to calling you My Prince," you say. Your hand moves down to his trousers, working him through the fabric. His eyes flutter at your touch, and his intake of breath is near intoxicating.

"It means something entirely different now," he says, kicking his trousers off. When you touch him, the sound he makes has you smiling.

"You are My Prince," you say, kissing his lips slowly. Jace moans into your mouth.

"I need to be inside of you now," he says. You smile, nodding your head as you kiss him. You release your hand from his cock and he groans.

"So needy," you say, shifting on the bed, pushing him back until his back is against the headboard.

"Can you blame me, Princess?" he asks. You are shaking your head as you straddle his lap. Jace's hands are still greedy, grabbing at you anywhere they can touch. When you align his cock with your folds, his eyes are blown wide, filled with lust and love.

"I love you," you say.

"I love y--" He breathes in sharply as you slip him inside of you. He moans your name, and pulls your chest to his.

"Princess," he says breathlessly as you rock against him. Your arms are around his neck, giving him a view of your annoyed look.

"Stop with that," you say. He grips your hips, moving your body on his.

"I can't."

"I call you Jace, why can't you do the same?" You gasp when he shifts his angle slightly.

"Because you're finally my princess," he says, his breathing growing heavier.

"It's irksome," you say. His lips smile against your neck.

"I'm sorry, princess."

"Jace," you groan, grinding into him until he does, too.

"Let me do it, just tonight," he pants, "I want you to hear how beautiful it sounds." You don't respond, you just grab his face and kiss him. He holds your hips and drives your body against his. You are both quickly approaching your release, and Jace continues to moan 'Princess' into your ear. Per his request, you don't fight him on it. The more he says it, the less it seems ill-suited.

When he finally loses control and finishes inside of you, though, it is your name on his lips.

For a few moments, you are both silent, the room filled with only your breaths. You climb off of him, lying down at his side.

"So?" he asks.

"I could get used to it, I think. But only from your lips."

"That's a start," he says, leaning down to kiss you.

You stand along the balcony surrounding the ballroom, looking down at the throngs of people. The sight is beautiful. Ladies' ballgowns sparkle in the candlelight. Raucous laughter fills the room as wine is passed around.

The fact that all of this is for you feels incredibly wrong.

Just six days ago you were a title-less woman from the Vale, awaiting for you a life of nursemaiding, or marriage to a brute. It feels strange that now, you have what you have always dreamed about. What every young girl has dreamed about once in their life. You were married to a handsome prince. You were a princess. The rest of your life would be nothing but luxuries, and the juxtaposition is still jarring.

And somewhere, still inside of you, you felt as though you don't deserve it. That the life that had been laid out for you was the one you deserved. Your husband said otherwise, but in quiet moments like this, you feel out of place, like you don’t belong.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you look in red?”

You startle at Jace’s voice. He walks to your side, laughing softly. He is dressed in his finest, as well. The doublet he wears clings to his chest in ways that have you thinking about leaving the party altogether.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says. He leans up against the banister rail, surveying the crowd with you for a quiet moment.

“What are you doing up here, Y/N?” he asks.

“Just making a plan of attack,” you say with a smirk, resting your hand on the railing. The wedding ring on your finger sparkles in the light.

“They’re going to absolutely love you.”

“Untrue. Do you know how many of these men I left in the garden or lied to about a cousin needing my help?” you ask. Jace laughs, shaking his head.

“I think they’ll get over it. Besides, you’ll be queen one day. Whatever bad feelings they may have about you, they’ll put them aside to earn your favor,” he says. Your jaw tightens, reality washing over you that this is to be your life now.

“Y/N,” Jace says, standing upright and taking your hands. He turns over the right palm, looking at the scar there. He frowns and rubs it softly with his own thumb. “You are one of the strongest people I know. You can handle anything this court wields at you.”

“I’m not so sure,” you say quietly.

“I am,” he says. “I’m your husband now, Y/N, you should trust me.”

“I do,” you say, stepping closer to him slightly, meeting his eyes.

“Then trust when I say you’ve got this. And,” he says, squeezing your hand softly, “If we do hate it, we can always return to Dragonstone.”

“I don’t want to run,” you say, glancing out at the crowd. “Just hide.” Jace laughs.

“They’re going to love you, just as much as I do,” he says. He puts a hand to your cheek, making you look into his brown eyes. “In that dress, how could they not?” he asks. You are smiling when he leans in to kiss you.

His hand trails down your back, squeezing your backside playfully. You laugh into his kiss, opening it up with your tongue. Jace backs the two of you out of the light, up against a pillar in the shadow. His mouth claims yours, his hands greedy on your body.

“And just think,” he says, breaking away breathlessly, “If the party gets unbearable, we can always sneak off to do this.”

“Why go to the party at all?” you ask, pulling him back to your mouth with a hand in his curls. He laughs, but you know he won’t let the two of you stay like this for long.

“Come on,” he says when he pulls away. “I want to show off my princess.”

He leads you downstairs, just outside the banquet hall. For another few minutes, you keep him occupied with your lips on his, but then he breaks off.

"I'll announce you in a few minutes," he says, squeezing your hand.

"Dragonstone is always an option?" you ask. He smiles.

"Yes, but you won't need it."

"I love you," you say.

"I love you," he says. You cling to his words, gaining courage from them. He slips into the low murmurs of the crowd, leaving you alone. You hope he will be quick, because you aren't sure how long your courage will hold.

"Your Highness." The voice startles you, and when you turn to see Baela, your heart beat doesn't slow. "I'm sorry, I didn't meant to scare you."

"No, no, that's quite alright."

"What are you doing out here?" she asks with a smile. You haven't seen her since the wedding, and before then it was only in passing, or in large groups.

"Jace is going to formally present me," you say. Baela looks at you strangely.

"You're not used to it yet, are you? The title?"

"Not at all," you say with a laugh. Baela does, too, and it makes you relax a little.

"It'll take some time," she says sagely. You nod.

For a moment, it looks like she might leave, but you will hate yourself if you don't say what you must.

"Baela, Your Highness," you say, "We haven't talked very much since everything changed."

"Y/N," she says, smiling as she steps closer. "I want to talk to you, too."

"You do?"

"I know we haven't gotten to know each other, even before . . . everything happened," she says. You look down at your feet. "But I want you to know I'm happy for you. You make Jace so happy. I couldn't ask for anything better."

"Thank you," you say, your voice thick with emotion. "And I just have to say I'm sorry, for taking this from you." She gives you an easy smile.

"Do not worry for me," she says. "This change has given me a freedom I didn't know I could ever have. You have given me that."

"I'm glad for it. And glad for you," you say. "Jace is lucky to call you a friend."

"Thank you, Your Highness. Good luck, tonight. It will go quickly, I think."

"I hope so," you say. She gives you a smile as she enters the ballroom, too.

You stand still for a few minutes, a weight lifted off your shoulders you thought might never be. Knowing that Baela holds no anger for you, makes you believe that the rest might come easily, too.

When a guard waves you towards the door, you are ready. Your husband is on the other side, your family is on the other side. When the doors open and you hear Jace's voice, you let out a sigh of relief.

“Please allow me to introduce my bride, Princess Y/N Velaryon.”

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys x you #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic

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miley1442111 · 3 months

Text

reams and reactions (part 1)- r.cameron

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a/n: HELLO! welcome to my new obx series, don't worry, if you follow me for cm or anything else I'll still be posting that, but i've just been on a obx binge recently so i cooked this story up in my head.

tropes: childhood bestfriends to lovers, enemies to lovers

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader (use of Y/n, and the nickname Bunny/ bun (but i promise not in a weird way there's a story to it i swear it's not just one of those weird smut things))

summary: how you and rafe fell apart, then finally meet again.

warnings: drugs, drug use, drinking, parental and sibling death, kissing, crying, violence, fighting, cursing, guys being creepy, misogyny, asshole dude. (i think that's it?)

not entirely proofread

2k+ words

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When Rafe was 5 years old, he ran with you in the garden of Tannyhill, chasing you in a game of tag. When he finally caught up to you, you both fell to the ground, limbs tangled in the way only friends did, giggling the way only friends do, and he pressed the sweetest kiss to your cheek.

When Rafe was 8, he came sobbing at your doorstep, on the verge of throwing up. He’d run all the way there. His mom was dead. He didn’t know what else to do. Besides his mother, you were the only person you’d ever been there for him like that, showing him that emotions were ok, and normal. When he felt you hugging him, and crying with him, he knew he would be with you forever. That he would stick with you through anything.

When Rafe was 10, he came back to your house after a particularly long day (aka you had no classes together) and you two sat on your couch with your family surrounding you, Romeo and Juliet on the screen. He felt himself blush when your sister made the joke that he was like your Romeo, since your dads didn’t get on. Though you both adamantly denied it, a few minutes later he felt your hand holding his under the blanket, your matching friendship bracelet brushing off each other's skin. He was smitten. A smile landed swiftly on both of your faces.

When Rafe was 13, he watched as you walked down the aisle of his father’s second marriage, a bunch of flowers in hand. He thought you looked beautiful, you were so beautiful. The pale blue dress Rose had picked and, of course, white roses in your hand. You shot him a small smile, one he responded to by blowing you a kiss. You laughed it off and went to stand where you were meant to. Rafe’s eyes were glued to you through the entire ceremony, almost forgetting to give his dad the rings. After the ceremony, you two ran off, away from Tannyhill. You went to your ‘little cove’ as you’d call it. It was a tiny beach just beside your house, but it led into the most magnificent field full of wildflowers, insects, and tall grass. It was beautiful. You and Rafe spent the whole night there, joking and talking. Then he finally mustered up the courage to kiss you. You kissed him back, but you’d both never speak about it again, too scared to mess up your incredible decade of friendship.

When Rafe was 15, he saw you for the last time. Three months earlier you had come to him, sobbing about the fact that you were moving to California of all places. More than a day's drive away. 42 hour drive. He promised you, no, swore to you that you’d keep in touch, that you’d be there for each other even with the distance.

He was wrong. After a few months, he’d stopped texting back, stopped calling back, stopped being there for you. And he never saw you again.

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Rafe woke up with a banging headache and an uncontrollable urge to vomit but swallowed it back and took the glass of water that remained on his bedside table for days at a time. Today was going to be shit. It was the 28th of July, the day you left him, and the day his world got turned upside down. This day was always hard. He was reminded of everything he’d messed up in life. What was he now? A drug addicted, drunk, piece of shit. He was barely getting by in college and he’d already had to repeat a year twice. Often, he’d go to your little cove and sit, thinking about what you were doing now. Were you a teacher, like you’d wanted to be as a kid? Were you an artist? He remembered how good you were at sketching. Were you even alive and he’d missed the funeral? What did you look like? What colour was your hair? Did you think about him?

Everything was too loud in his mind. He grabbed a beer, and set on his way. The cove was in full bloom, a sea of colours under the boiling sun. He sat in his usual spot, the spot where you two had kissed. You two had these small chairs that Rafe barely fit in then, and definitely didn’t fit in now, so he sat beside them. What time was it? Was the sun going down? He searched in his pocket for his phone, only to find it dead.

“Excuse me?” He turned to see a girl shouting from across the field.

“Yeah?” he called back, feeling rather inconvenienced by the whole ordeal.

“Do the Cameron’s still live in Tannyhill?” She asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“Just an old friend, thanks!”

And she walked off. He tried to remember her physical features as best he could, but ultimately forgot them in his pursuit of washing his troubles away with the beer in his hand.

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“Y/n? Is that you?!” Sarah squealed as she leant out the window of the Twinkie.

“Sarah?” You practically ran into the road to meet her. The car was stopped at a stop-light, and she pulled you in to properly greet you.

“Oh my god! It is so good to see you!” She smiled. Despite you and Rafe’s falling out, you’d stayed in touch with Sarah, even though you were a little older than her. You even followed Wheezie on instagram and texted back and forth sometimes. But Rafe… static. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I’m here to teach, I just finished my 2nd year of college and I’m doing my work experience here!” You explained, as she pulled away from the hug.

“So you’re going to be here, like for the whole year?”

“Not just the whole year, I’m moving back once I'm done with my exams,” you explained. “I’m doing this programme that means I can work from here and do college from here, I’m so fucking sick of California.”

Both Sarah and Kiara squealed with excitement, and the three boys cheered. You’d been friends with the pogues, being a sort of pogue-kook hybrid.

Kiara pulled you in for a hug, then Pope, then Jj, then John B gave your hand a squeeze instead, since he was busy driving.

“So you’re back for good?” Kie asked.

“I’m back for as long as you’ll have me,” you smiled.

“We have to celebrate tonight!” Jj cheered.

“There’s a party down at Figure 8, I’m sure Y/n’s kook heritage will get us in,” Pope shrugged and you all agreed.

You spent the rest of the afternoon hanging around the pogues and Sarah and got ready at Kiara’s place for the party. Her parents welcomed you back with open arms, and then asked the dreaded question of ‘how are your parents?’

Your parents had been dead for 3 years. They’d died in an accident, and you’d been alone since then.

“They’re good,” you lied. “Working hard back in California.”

That satisfied them, and they stopped asking.

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The Figure 8 party was just how you remembered them to be. Loud, drunk, and almost too much. Even though you had been 14 at the time, Rafe had convinced you to come to one, since he was friends with some older kooks who wanted him there. Halfway through you told him you were going home, and instead of just waving you off, he brought you to your little cove, and sat with you for a couple hours. After that he brought you back to his house, and you had a sleepover.

When you’d asked him why he did that, he’d just shrugged and said ‘I prefer being around you.’

God, you could’ve married that man. You were supposed to, if your diary ‘ideal life’ had gone to plan.

Step One: Start dating Rafe

Step Two: Become highschool sweethearts and make it through college (even if it's long distance) and become a teacher!

Step Three: Work as a teacher and live on the mainland for a few years, have Rafe propose in the little cove, say yes, obviously and start wedding planning.

Step Four: Have the wedding at Tannyhill, move into a house on Figure 8 and start having kids, we’ll have 4 or 5 (Rafe wants 7 kids????? 4 or 5 is pushing it buddy), and live a long happy life as a teacher with Rafe and our family.

Step Five: Die happy.

Ok, it wasn’t exactly inspired, but come on, you were 13.

You noticed what looked like a grown version of Topper in the crowd and when he turned and saw you, a smile grew on his face. He ran over and scooped you up in a hug.

“Bun! You’re back!”

Bun was the nickname you were given as a kid because well, you liked bunnies. You had two as a kid, and for a year, you wouldn’t respond to someone unless they called you bun. It was ridiculous, but people obliged all the same. You'd never regretted anything more in your life in that moment.

“Hey Topper,” you smiled.

“Have you seen Rafe yet?” he asked.

“No, not yet,” you smiled slightly faltered, but you kept the smile up for good appearances. When you’d gone to Tannyhill yesterday, only Ward, Rose, and Wheezie were in, so your anxiety around seeing Rafe had grown. One day, he’d just stopped replying. Not one reason, not one apology. Nothing. One part of you wanted to say he didn’t even deserve to see you, and another missed her best friend/ supposed love of her life. “Is he around?”

“He is, but he’s high as shit,” Topper laughed. Rafe Cameron? Rafe Cameron was getting high?

“Rafe is high?”

“Oh yeah, he’s totally into all that shit now,” he laughed and you noticed the dilated pupils, the white residue on his nose, the red, irritated skin of his nose. He was high too. “It’s good shit too, you want some?”

“I’m good, just point me in Rafe’s direction,” you nodded, deeply uncomfortable with the drugs around. You’d grown up with a brother who did drugs, who’d died from drugs at the young age of 17. You didn’t want anything to do with drugs, but here you were, being led into one of the Figure 8 mansions to be led to Rafe Cameron, selling, and doing drugs.

“Gentleman, I present to you, the Princess of Figure 8, making her great return, Bunny!” he cheered as all eyes turned to you. The group of boys cheered, getting up to give you a group hug. Rafe stayed seated.

“How’s life on the mainland Bun?How was Cali?” Kelce asked, sitting down beside you as you joined the circle, trying to ignore the cocaine on the table.

“It’s fine, but I’m back in the Outer Banks for good now,” you smiled as another round of cheers rippled through the group.

“We’re finally good enough for you again?” Topper joked. “What’s brought you back home huh? Aside from the strapping young men?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m teaching here Top, I'm in my third year of college.”

“Shit no way, you’re a teacher?” Ryan, a sleeze you remembered from school. He was always the creepy guy, trying to look up girls' skirts and play kiss-tag at the ripe old age of 12. “You're way too sexy to be a teacher. You should be a pornstar or something.”

You felt bile rise in your stomach as a handful of the boys laughed at the joke.

“That’s not funny,” Kelce defended. “Fuck off asshole.”

“What? You and I both have eyes and we can both see her tits. Too bad Cameron has dibs.”

You froze and looked to Rafe who was looking at you through hooded eyes.

The silence was awkward, and you knew it was time to take your leave, even though you hadn’t said a word to Rafe, so you said your goodbyes and left in search of the pogues.

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“Gentleman, I present to you, the Princess of Figure 8, making her great return, Bunny!” Topper announced as all eyes turned to you.

Holy fucking shit. You were gorgeous, and it was you. Rafe’s Y/n. Rafe’s Bun. He was shocked to see you in the Outer Banks again, let alone in person again. You were here. In front of him. Then he realised, you were here. Here, where there was cocaine on the table, and he was the one selling it. Here, where there were about three guys looking at you like you were a piece of meat. Here, where he sat at the top of the table, stoned out of his mind.

“How’s life on the mainland Bun? How was Cali?” Kelce asked, sitting down beside you as you joined the circle. Rafe could see you trying to ignore the table, staring directly at Kelce, all your attention on him. He couldn’t help but feel jealous. You were his best friend before you were anyone else’s friend. He’d known you better than anyone. And here he was, silent as he watched you talk to everyone else.

“It’s fine, but I’m back in the Outer Banks for good now.”

His heart almost stopped. Back in the Outer Banks, for good.

“We’re finally good enough for you again?” Topper joked. “What’s brought you back home huh? Aside from the strapping young men?”

You rolled your eyes at him, but Rafe could tell it was playful. God, his life was so fun when you had been in it. Impromptu boat rides and trips to the mainland, spending hours just talking and laughing about nothing and everything all at the same time. He missed it. He missed you.“I’m teaching here Top, I'm in my third year of college.”

“Shit no way, you’re a teacher?” Ryan. Rafe often wondered why he even kept him around. He could feel the awful comment coming, but he knew he couldn’t stop it. “You're way too sexy to be a teacher. You should be a pornstar or something.”

Rafe felt the anger boil in his blood the second he said it. Ryan should’ve known better than to talk about you like that.

“That’s not funny,” Kelce defended, beating Rafe to it. “Fuck off asshole.”

“What? You and I both have eyes and we can both see her tits. Too bad Cameron has dibs.”

Rafe stared back at you as you truly looked at him for the first time that night. He couldn’t tell how you felt, something he didn’t like. Ever since you two were kids, he could always tell how you were feeling, what you were thinking. He could always anticipate what you needed. He didn’t know now and it scared him. He just looked back into your beautiful eyes, allowing himself to be lost in the fact that you were here in front of him.

The silence was awkward and he knew it, so he didn’t protest when you took your leave, even if he wanted to. He spoke when he knew you were out of ear and eyeshot, he didn't need you know what he was about to do.

“Ryan?” he scoffed. “You have ten seconds.”

“Until what?” Ryan chuckled.

Rafe counted down the seconds in his head, Topper and Kelce became more and more uneasy as the seconds went by.

Rafe didn’t even give warning, he just got up, grabbed a nearby beer bottle, and smashed it over his head. Nobody dared to stop him, not even when he started punching Ryan, promising to kill him if he ever spoke about you like that again.

People knew not to fuck with Rafe and, even after all these years, you were an extension of Rafe. Too bad Ryan forgot that.

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

obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron one shot #rafe obx #rafe cameron x reader fluff #rafe imagine #rafe cameron x reader angst #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader

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pennyluna · 3 months

Text

Secretly Mine - One Shot -Jeon Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (Female) 🔞

Genre: Secret dating - slight smut - friends

Plot: little secret being revealed

Word count: 1.243

A/N: This one shot is part of a collection of one shots I am working in right now. Sorry it took me a long time to post again, I was busy moving to a new country and settling in so I haven't had much time to post but I am back now.

I open my eyes, my sight blurry and I feel my head pounding... ugh. I went out to a club with a couple of friends last night and ended up bumping into Jungkook and his friends, it was a fun night that ended on me having to help him bring two very drunk Jimin and Mingyu back to Jungkook's apartment, where I ended up also staying the night.

After putting Jimin and Mingyu in the guestrooms, I tried to leave but Jungkook's very good passionate kisses convinced me otherwise. Now I look at the handsome man laying next to me, his breathing calm and even, he seems so peaceful so I try my best not to wake him, I try to move his heavy arm from around my naked body, which results on him steering in bed but staying asleep.

I need a shower so I get off the bed noticing how our clothes are all over the floor, my tight leather dress that was almost ripped from my body seems so small laying there next to his t-shirt. I grabbed the clothes and pulled them all into his corner chair -My head hurts-

I love the water pressure in Jungkook's shower, I love the frosted shower screen and how spacious it is.

I let the warm water run from my head and wash over my body in hopes that it will take the hangover away, while relaxing I hear the bathroom door open and close but I don't move, I know it's him.

"Good morning, beautiful" Jungkook says while lowering himself to kiss my shoulder. I tilt my head back onto his chest now firmly pressed against my back.

"Did I wake you?"

"Did you not get enough last night?" I say, a moan escaping my lips. "The boys are still here, they might hear us."

"Nah. I just missed you out there" he says while starting to trace kisses on my neck. His hands moving one to my breast and one to my core, where his fingers start rubbing my clit.

I let myself melt into him.

"Never." He says between neck kisses " They are still asleep and the walls are pretty thick so don't worry."

We had done it in here before but no one else was ever in the house at the same time so I worry, I'm not ready for people to find out about our little secret.

He turns me around "(Y/L) trust me..." he looks at me, scanning my face that seem to not be showing the emotion he is looking for so he drops to his knees, pulls one of my legs over his shoulder and looking into my eyes he adds "let me help you relax"

I'm so close to my release that I start shaking and he is smiling at me mischievously, he is dragging it out, torturing me a little and enjoying it.

After one of the best orgasms I've ever had through Oral sex, he gets up pulling my legs to his waist and holding me against the wall. I can feel his cock rubbing my entrance and taking a break from a very intense kiss, he pushes in causing us both to groan in pleasure.

Once he knows I have adjusted to his size, he starts pushing in and out of me, making my eyes roll back ad shut.

He picks up the pace, our kisses more passionate each time and my orgasm is building. I know his is too. I know all the signs of his body like he knows mine and this is meant to be a morning quicky, I can feel the muscles in his back tensing under my fingertips.

"Oh My Gㅡ YES. YES! I'mㅡ" my moans get placated by his big hand placed on my mouth. I want to complain because he stopped thrusting into me while I was trying to ride my orgasm but when I look at him I notice the panicked look in his eyes and then I hear the reason.

"Hey Kook, sorry for barging in. I really need to pee and I think Mingyu is throwing up on the other one" It's Jimin. Jimin is in the freaking bathroom while I'm fully naked. Not to mention the fact that his precious golden maknae's cock is buried deep inside of me. OH MY GOD.

"Jimin. What the fuck? Get out" Jungkook orders him.

"I just need to pee. Give me one second" I hear a belt buckle followed by a zipper and my eyes widen.

"JIMIN. GET THE FUCK OUT." His voice is now seriously scary and some how it turns me on, causing my pussy to clench around Jungkook's cock who closes his eyes trying to level his breathing and then gives me a warning look.

"Kook, I'll be out in a second" I hear the sound of what I assume is his pee hitting the water in the toilet and resign, throwing my head into Jungkook's chest. -I don't think this could be any worse- " Hey so, I think I'll ask (Y/N) out." My head snaps back up and I lock eyes with Jungkook who looks very annoyed. "She looked so fucking hot last night with that dress. I couldn't stop thinking about how it would feel to take it off her..." my brain shuts off, I could not continue listening to what seemed like a mini rant about all the ways he would do me.

"Jimin shut up and get the fuck out" Jungkook's words came out slowly but they were a warning that sounded dangerous and it snapped me out of my disassociating state.

"Bro what the heck is your problem? I'm telling you about a girl I want to hook up with" Jimin's tone seems annoyed but pleading.

"I can't help you get (Y/N)..."

I've always known Jungkook gets jealous easily, specially when people talk about me but this is not Jimin's fault, he doesn't know his friend and I are in a relationship. Jungkook and I have been dating for a while now but held off on telling the others because we want to enjoy our privacy bubble a bit longer. Well that and the fact I was scared of telling people.

I touch Jungkook's hand to get his attention and when he looks at me, I mouth 'it's time', he needs to tell his friend before this gets any more awkward. He has been wanting to tell him for a while but didn't because of me, so I let him know it's okay.

"Why not? You guys are close, you could just talk to her for me."

" Yeah, right. We are close. Very close. So I can't help you out with her"

"What do you mean? Why-" there is a few seconds of silence "Wait Jungkook... are you and (Y/N)... are you guys fucking?" his voice sound surprised and amused.

Jungkook turns to look at my blushing face and grins "Thanks to you, not anymore"

"Huh?" there is a few seconds of silence and then a gasp "Wait.. are you- is she-?"

I can hear the realization hit him so I do the only thing I can think about "Hiii Chim"

"OH.. mmm... Hii (Y/N)!!"

"Oookay" Jungkook says slowly "Now can you get the fuck out please?"

Jimin leaves the bathroom and I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding. Jungkook's hands go to the back of my neck to hold me upright and he bends down to kiss me deeply.

"Mine. I can finally tell everyone that you are mine. My girl."

A/N 2: Hope you enjoy it. Please let me know if there is anyone you would like me to make a story one and I will try my best to add it to my list of one shots 😘

#bts smut #fanfiction #bangtan #bts army #armysource #bts scenarios #bts jungkook #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #golden maknae #jungkook smut #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jimin #bts jimin #mingyu

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i-cant-sing · 2 months

Note

i was just minding my business like scrolling to find new fics to read since i was so so bored and while i was finding some delicious fics (ahem ahem: yandere big brother bakugou x little sister reader) ur post suddenly idk the word (lumitaw (its a filo word)) and i was screaming and immediately dropped what i was supposed to read to read yours 😭😭😭

i got the worst memory ever to exist because i keep forgetting their names but i think i'll grasp them once the next chapter is out (hopefully) but yeaaah!!! baris reminds me of abbas in a way but ig he's a bit more.. brute yk what im talking about????? ig he's ok..

OH! and i have a theory about the painting, y/n's face getting smudged maybe because baldwin or SALAUDDIN decided to smudged it to forget how they look due to heartbroken (prob not baldwin,, but i feel like salauddin would do that ??) i guess im getting married again 😔😔 i feel like im betraying my pookie salauddin 💔💔💔🙏🙏 BUT ANYWAYS THANK YOU FOR THE UPDATE SNOW!!!! AMAZING AS ALWAYS!! can't wait for the next one already!! 😭😭😭 i think i'll send more of my thoughts if something crosses over my mind (prob when im in the shower)

ooohh i like your theory(portrait pictures at the end). i like it a lot. expanding on it:

Baldwin would probably cause the painting to be smudged because he's kissing it, kissing your lips, drunk off his mind, tears streaming down his cheek as he spends hours sitting in front of it, talking to the painting as if u still exist, begging u to come back from heaven, even apologising for all he's done, just please- come back, angel...

Meanwhile Salauddin would probably be staring at your portrait angrily. He understands why you had to leave but.... you couldnt have told him where you were goinh? Do you not think he couldve protected you? He wouldve used his whole army, gathered Muslims from all around the world to protect you. Did you... did you not have the least bit faith in him? deep down, he knows u did this to prevent a war between him and baldwin but.... Salauddin wouldve gone to war for you. Happily. This wasnt your decision to make alone. Now, he stands in front of your portrait, he has it in his palace now, and he doesnt say voice it out like baldwin, but he has complaints. HE keeps them inside, mentally talking to you, telling you just how stupid you were for sacrificing yourself, for jumping off that stupid cliff. How u shouldve just- just asked him for help ONCE, and he wouldve fought until his last breath if it meant keeping u safe. In his mind, u sacrificed yourself to protect Baldwin from murdering innocent muslims or anyone else u wouldve seeked help from.

And now? All Salauddin can do is pray for you. He wakes up late into the night and sits on the prayer mat, making dua for you for hours, reading Quran for you, has animals slaughtered on eid on your behalf, even doing charity and hajj (pilgrimage) on your behalf, just so that you can have more good deeds in your name. He still has the chess board u gifted him, but he's stopped playing chess. He never played the game again, it was only a painful reminder of you. The one person who he could never beat.

As for your painting, why it was smudged? Salauddin didnt want anyone to see your beauty, thats why he kept the portrait hidden in his room, but then he feared that one day when he's not around anymore, someone will see you. So, he used a rag soaked in turpentine to smudge your face, but couldnt do more than just the bottom half of your face. He thought that was fine, after all, thats how u did often appear when you were around, wearing a niqaab, a veil that covered your face.

Now that he looks at your eyes, he realises his mistake. He heard the wise tell him-

"Eyes are the windows to the soul."

He now knows it to be true.

This is what I think the portraits look like:

Notice that this is the earrings Salauddin gifted Y/n when she was in the market with him:

How Baldwin's been:

#yandere baldwin #yandere Salauddin #king baldwin x reader #baldwin #baldwin x reader #king baldwin iv #king baldwin x you #Salauddin #Salauddin x reader #time traveller au #yandere x reader #yandere x #yandere x you #male yandere

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darnell-la · 1 month

Text

𝗣𝗜𝗖𝗞𝗘𝗗 𝗨𝗣 𝗙𝗥𝗢𝗠 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗔𝗥

pairing: dark!logan howlett x bartender!reader

warnings: bar fight, breaking in, kidnapping, rough sex (slight cnc), dominating, hair pulling, etc.

note: we love him. we really do. this was a quick story. it’s late at night!

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits and memes of the people we write about!

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𝟯𝗥𝗗 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗣𝗢𝗩

Having to lock up because the Wolverine got into a fight at the bar, was one of the craziest things y/n had to do in a while. No one got hurt, but he did slice a couple chairs.

Y/n had to kick everyone out so she could clean up and close early for the night. Tonight was a long night anyway, so people didn’t complain.

Well, one did, and of course it had to be Logan. He told her he could stay and clean up, maybe have a drink after, but she denied and told him to leave.

He got snarky with her, stepping towards her and telling her she was too pretty to close up alone. That’s when she had to threaten to call the cops.

She’s now in the bar alone wiping down the last table. Tonight was a long annoying night, but at least she was tipped well.

Y/n sang as she put the towels up before walking to the front door. She noticed in her way, that a man was standing at the front with his back towards her.

She was confused for a second until the man turned around. It was Logan. How long has he been standing there? Did he ever leave?

Y/n went to speak behind the thick glass until she saw a smile grow on his face. She instantly knew he meant no good.

She lunged at the door too, hoping she could lick it but he pushed it open, causing y/n to slide across the floor.

“Should’ve taken me up on that offer,” Logan said as he stalked towards her. She backed up on the door until her back to the bar counter. He now stood over her, eyes fully dark. “Told ya it was unsafe for a pretty girl like you,”

Logan grabbed y/n’s arm, pulling her up then slamming her upper body on the counter. “No, get off!” Y/n yelled, trying to wiggle from under him, but his body was heavy.

“Can’t tell me that when I smell your pussy from here,” Logan said, shocking y/n. What was he talking about? “I always smell you. You love dressin’ like this around men? That gets you off?” The man asked as he traced his hand up her body, pulling her dress along.

“P-Please, Logan. You’re drunk. I-I won’t tell anyone if you leave now. I promise!” She said as his lips kissed on the back of her neck. She smelled amazing. She always does.

“Ian leavin, sweet cheeks — I’m too close to you to stop now,” he said, pulling her panties to the side, wasting no time to stick his middle finger in her cunt, curling as soon as he could.

Y/n whined low as Logan breathed down her neck. “Imagine who else would’ve been on you if I wasn’t here. Had to scare off a few people tonight, like any other night. You should thank me,”

“Thank me, princess,” Logan said again, pushing two fingers into her. “L-Logan, stop!” She cried out, trying to lean up, but he pushed her back down harshly with a huff.

“Hard to get — I’ll fix that,” he said, now tugging on his Jean, pulling them down until his cock fell out. She couldn’t see, but she felt him in between her thighs. He was fucking huge.

“Please, no — Logan, I can’t do this. N-Not at work,” she said, remembering these cameras could be only. Some days, the boss turns them on while others he turns them off to save money.

“Don’t worry, princess. Ima take you back to my place after this. Already moved around the apartment to your liking,” he said, confusing y/n.

She didn’t know, but he knew where she kept her spare key. Sneaking into her home and sometimes sleeping next to her for a little while was a nightly routine.

Y/n’s thoughts were cut off once Logan’s tip pushed through her slick. She cried out, feeling him stretch her in an instant. He was too big for her. He loved it.

“Fuuuckin’ hell, y/n. You’re a tight one,” Logan grunted on the back of her neck. “So fuckin’ tight — God, Ian gonna get enough of this,” his hips began to move at a faster pace, taking her hard on the bar counter.

Y/n gripped the ends, trying to brace herself, but he was fucking her too rough. “C-Can’t,” y/n barely got out as her cunt clenched around him. “Yes, baby — Yes,” he tugged at her hair as she came undone around his cock.

“So fuckin’ dirty, Bub. You just cleaned,” Logan chuckled as y/n cried onto the counter. She didn’t know what to do until she remembered one of the panic buttons was right under the counter.

Y/n tried not to make it obvious she reached under the counter, trying to find the button she usually never misses.

This time is a different thought. She’s being pounded into by the Wolverine.

“Whatcha doin, girl?” Logan asked, looking over her shoulder until he realized. Before he could pull her hands back, she pressed the button. Alarms went off and the bar lights turned red.

“Goddamnit, y/n,” he growled as he pinned both of her wrists behind her back, hurting her shoulders. “You just can’t listen, can you? So fuckin’ bad,” Logan used his free hand to push her face into the countertop.

“Fuckin’ bitch can’t even let me fuck her at work. When I’m done with you, you’re fucked,” the man spat, snapping his hips harder to get closer to his orgasm. He wanted to ruin y/n back at his place. Back at her new place.

Y/n cried into the counter, feeling mixed emotions about this all. He broke into the bar to use her, but why her? Aren’t there other women? Is she special to him?

“Cry all you want, y/n. You’re not getting out of any punishment tonight,” the man groaned in her ear as his hips stuttered. Her mouth parted, knowing what was happening.

Logan eventually spilled in her, still thrusting as y/n shook. She tried her best, but she ended up cumming again, but this time with a moan he knew was different from the others. They sounded needy.

Logan smirked, quickly pulling out of y/n and throwing her over his shoulder. He didn’t bother emptying every drop into her. He slipped his leaky cock back into his pants before walking out of the bar.

She kicked and screamed, but not loud enough to make them look out of their windows to help. Logan chuckled at the frisk act, knowing she was going to be a cute and fun toy for him.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

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buckybarnesisdaddy · 5 months

Text

Meet Cute

Summary: You stumble upon a pottery TikTok account and the creator is super hot. When you win his contest for a custom piece, well sparks start to fly.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Warning: Sexual innuendos, Smut (Oral, PiV), talks of fighting as kids, talks of alcohol use and being drunk. No protection sex (but it’s okay, they talk about it.) Minors DNI

Idea came from this post

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Another Friday night with nothing better to do than sit on your phone scrolling Instagram while a forgotten movie plays in the background. You really should be writing, you have a deadline coming up soon but you just can’t bring yourself to write about romance and love. You can hear Natasha saying goodbye to her date on the doorstep, and she has been for the last 20 minutes. Finally Natasha comes stumbling in, face flushed and giggling away, which is odd because Natasha never giggles. “So I take it the date went well?” You ask from your perch on the couch, covered in blankets and a bowl of popcorn cooled on the seat next to you.

“If you must know, yes!!” She gushes and runs over to sit beside you. “He is so sweet and such a gentleman-”

“What he as doing to you out there didn’t sound too ‘gentleman like.’ In fact it sounds down right scandalous.” You tease and Natasha rolls her eyes and gives you a playful shove.

“He was an absolute gentleman,” she doubles down before she blushes and admits, “well that was till I said all the right words and had him ready to eat me alive.” Natasha laughs as you pretend to retch. “Oh hush! If you ever got off this couch you’d have a line of men waiting to take you out and begging for you to talk dirty to them.” Natasha winks, you can feel the heat rise in your cheeks and you sink further down into the couch.

“I have Bridgerton, and my own fictional men that I write, I don’t need a man.” You shoot back at her slightly insulting but meant in good fun jab at your non-existent dating life. “Anyway, where did you meet this guy again?” Natasha picks up a handful of popcorn before she realizes it’s cold. She wrinkles her nose but commits anyway to eating it.

“Tiktok!” Natasha answers over a mouthful. A loud laugh escapes for you and she gives you another play shove before taking the popcorn for herself. “We talked a lot online before we met up. He’s great, in fact i have made lots of friends from TikTok! You should give it a try!” Abruptly standing up and shaking your head, you walk to the kitchen to retrieve a drink.

“No way, I know myself and I’d end up sucked Down the rabbit hole and I’d never get anything done. And for the sake of my job, I can’t have that.” Natasha sighs a unmutes the tv.

“What a waste of a good ass and ‘I'll beg for it eyes’.” Natasha teases and you can’t help but laugh again as you enter the room with your water and a drink for Natasha.

“What kind of videos did you think A) I would be watching and B) potentially making?!” Sitting down next to her giving her a hard stare. Natasha stares straight ahead, purposely not meeting your gaze as she shrugs.

“Anything you wanted, Bunny.” She looks over and winks, using the old nickname you got back in college after too many drinks and a spin on a pogo stick.

“Wow you must really be worried about my good ass and ‘beg for it’s eyes’ going to waste if you’re baiting me with that name!” You lean back and prop your feet up on the coffee table. Natasha leans her head over and eats it on yours.

“All I’m saying is the first step in dating is getting yourself out there. Why not start with a stupid video app? Connect with others from the safety of a screen, and see where it goes.” She smiles and gives your hand a squeeze before she yawns and stands again. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need a shower,” she blushes, “My man got me pretty worked up.” She winks and dashes off. You shake your head and just laugh as you turn back to your movie. That night you toss and turn, unable to sleep. You can’t stop thinking about what Natasha said. Maybe it would be fun, it’s not the pressure of a dating app and you can give out as much information as you are willing to. What could go wrong? Knowing Natasha is still awake as you quickly send her a text.

‘Fine… make me a page but keep it generic.’ About as soon as you put your phone down it dings. You pick it up to find multiple messages from Natasha. ‘Yay! I already did! Here is the login! Have fun!! 😉’

**********************************************

Bucky is setting up in his garage studio when he hears the bike rev outside and then turn off. Steve walks in and lays his helmet down on one of his work tables.

“So? How did the date go?” Bucky asks as he sets down a bucket of water next to his wheel and sets a sponge out next to the bucket. Steve leans against the table and grabs a chunk of modeling clay. He starts to knead it in his hands, treating it like a stress ball as he smiles.

“Honestly? Amazing! I mean, really Buck. She’s great!” Bucky laughs to himself and nods. “You know you’re never gonna find a women unless you actually get out there and try to date.” Steve teases and Bucky just throws a rag at him.

“Yeah yeah, hand me that clay and let me get paid, okay?!” Bucky jokes and Steve tosses him the clay. He slaps it down on the wheel and Steve laughs.

“See, that right there would have women lining up and down the street for you!” Steve turning Bucky’s harmless actions of slapping his clay into sexual jokes and Bucky returning the favor is something Bucky hopes they never outgrown.

“Yeah, and the boys would be lining up to have you handle their wood, we’d be making bank if we started charging.” Steve laughs and shoves Bucky.

“Woodworking is a noble hobby.” Steve rebuts.

“Noble and as old at time!” Bucky had the last say. “Now, shut up and press live for me.” Bucky smiles and Steve pretends to be annoyed as he does what was asked.

**********************************************

You want to be upset that she did it before you gave her permission, but you know she means well. Your last relationship did not end well and you haven’t dated since, honestly you’ve been sacred to. Natasha just wants to see you happy. You download the app and use the login information Natasha sent you. Apparently she’s been following people for you and set up the whole account. She was nice enough to not include a picture of you, instead she added the generic pictures everyone can choose from when they start a profile. She put that your name is ‘Bunny’, you she’s your head and just laugh, reminding yourself to change that later. You see you username ‘talkdirtytome’. “Oh Nat,” you groan. Becoming a master at TikTok in a matter of minutes you find where to change your username, but seeing as Natasha had changed it 5 times in less than 2 hours, your account is locked to more changes for at least a week. Thankful that the username you ended up with wasn’t so bad considering one of the last names was ‘fckbunny'. “Oh my god, Nat. You are so dead!” You take a deep breath and sit up against your headboard. You remind yourself it’s not the end of the world and it’s just the internet, it’s only forever. Ready to give it a rest for the night you lay your phone down when you get a notification.

*Buchananclaymates is going live*

“Who the hell is that and why does it sound like porn?” Even as you ask yourself that very important question your thumb has already clicked on the notification. You are taken to the live screen on TikTok. On your screen sits the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. His blue eyes pop against the blue henley he is wearing and his hair is short. Theres a boyish charm to him even though he is clearly in his early late 20’s maybe even early 30’s. He is sitting in some kind of garage and on the shelf behind him sits a dozen or so pots, pitchers, mugs, plates, all of them handcrafted. What gets you the most is his little New York accent slipping through his words. Not too much but enough that you can pick out the Brooklyn in him. His voice is so smooth, you could fall asleep listening to him talk about pottery. And his laugh, it makes you smile and you want to hear it again, so light and free, beautiful. As the shock of how beautiful this man is finally resolves, he says something that makes your heart drop straight to your stomach.

**********************************************

Bucky is having fun as all his followers sign on and begin requesting stuff. He starts to work the clay and begins his steps on making a pitcher. He is taking a moment to read some of the chat when a new user pops up. He memorized all his regulars, and yes there is about 100-200 of them but he has a good memory, against all odds and every concussion he had as a child. But his is one he has never seen before. He cleans off his hands and moves the camera closer.

“Hey, I see some new people here tonight,” He gets a better look at the username and he can’t help but blush and laugh as he teases his new viewer. “User ‘talkdirtytome’ I feel like you might be on my wrong account.” He winks. “I’m just messing with you! I do have another account and it is a little more… well-“ **********************************************

A voice from somewhere behind the camera shouts, “thirst trappy!!” The man Blushes but also nods, “yeah, I guess Rogers is right. It’s full of pottery thirst traps. But nothing more than that. This is a pg-13 page so, ‘talkdirtytome’ save it for the DM’s” he winks and laughs again. You look at the comments pouring in as the live continues, some are asking about buying some of his work. Others are asking if he makes custom pieces. Other ask what’s his favorite type of clay to use, you didn’t know there were different types. But overwhelmingly the comments were asking ‘take your shirt off!’ The man didn’t seem bothered by the comments at all, in fact he ate it up. Flirting and teasing the viewers with movements that showed little sections of his stomach or leaning forward and letting his shirt dip enough to see down it. He truly is a showman because you are entranced and before you know it you’ve spent an hour on this live watching him talk about pottery, and getting to know a little about him. You find yourself wanting to know everything, he seems so sweet and his eyes are kind. You don’t even realize you’re drooling over him until he starts rapping up the live. You don’t even know his name and yet you’re sad when he finally says goodnight and cuts the live off.

**********************************************

Bucky is pleasantly surprised with how well this live went. He got 15 orders while on live and he got about 1000 new followers. He knew he was pulling out all the stops tonight and flirting hardcore. Making sure he didn’t wear an undershirt so when he raised his arms the comment section went wild with the tease. Putting his hair in a half up half down bun that he knows drives his followers crazy. He was playing for keeps and thankfully it paid off. Especially with his most interesting new viewer. Why this new user caught his eye he will never know, ‘talkdirtytome’ was probably some 59 year old bald guy who found Bucky hot… but he couldn’t help hoping that maybe the user was really some really beautiful women in her late 20’s… a guy can dream, right?

**********************************************

You quickly click to his profile and do a little stalking. You can’t find this other page he talked about, probably because it’s some onlyfans or something like a cam sight. He was probably keeping it PG so the TikTok police didn’t flag his video. You’ve only been on it for about 2 hours but you’ve heard all about people getting banned or blocked because their videos were “too mature.” You give his page a once over again you finally clock his name. “James, huh. How very.. normal.” You blush and quickly jump back to your page, feeling exhilarated you change the profile picture to one of you. It doesn’t really show much, in fact all it shows is your hair and a hidden side profile… but it’s a step. You then find James page again and quickly, before you can second guess yourself, you follow him and set up notifications. You don’t want to miss seeing this beautiful man. Maybe Natasha was right, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. You lay your phone down and drift off to sleep, happier than ever.

**********************************************

Right before Bucky is about to go to bed he sees a new notification,

*New Follower- Bunny*

“Who the fuck is Bunny??” Bucky asks out loud as he clicks on the profile. He sees the username at the top ‘talkdirtytome’, “Ahh so Baldies name is Bunny, great.” Bucky groans. But then he sees the profile picture. “I wait, that’s a women. Wait- that’s?! FUCK YES!” He about yells from the comfort of his room, and only bring his voice down because he remembers Steve is on the other side of the wall. He messages you and then Bucky goes to sleep one happy man.

**********************************************

The sun streams through your window and you wake up to the soft buzz of your phone. You stretch and start your morning routine before actually checking the said phone, because you know the time suck that will happen if you just sit and scroll instead of getting up and ready. A text from Natasha saying she’s meeting ‘her man’ and will bring you back a coffee. You start to set your phone down when you notice a little red bubble on the TikTok app. Curiosity gets the better of you and you find your way back to your bed before you open it. The butterflies that burst in your stomach and travel throughout your body leave you breathless when you see that you have 5 messages from ‘Buchananclaymates’ aka Bucky.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!!” You start screaming as you take deep breaths and try to calm down. “Okay, it’s okay. He’s just a dude. He’s hot! But he’s just a guy, just read the messages.” You click them open and one by one your face heats up more and those butterflies become stronger lower and lower in your body.

*Messages*

Hey!

I see I have a new follower 😉

Glad I didn’t scare you off with all that teasing.

Hope to see you around again!

Maybe even here, 😏 ‘claymatesbuck’

“Oh my god,” you groan at the innuendo of the second username. “So it’s definitely porn!” You exclaim, not sure how you feel about this. “Of course the guy I find attractive is the one with a porn page.” You groan. “You really know how to pick em!” You pout for a moment and then you realize that you’re home alone. Natasha is out and will be for awhile. Your curiosity pushes you to click on the username and you are taken to another tiktok page. Every thumbnail for each video is of Bucky shirtless and working with clay. “He wasn’t kidding about the thirst traps.” You blush as you click on one video. It start to play and there is a semi sexually suggestive song playing as Bucky works the clay in his hands. Molding it and shaping it just how he wants. His biceps are on display and his abs, he ends the video with a little wink and lip bite.

“Oh my god!!” It comes out as more of a moan than it did an actual exclamation. “Oh Natasha, what have you done?!” You groan as you lay on your bed, ready to spend the morning watching every video on his page.

Before long you end up pressing that follow button and closing the app before you can do anything else to embarrass yourself.

**********************************************

Bucky sees your follow on his other page and if he sits down and plans out the next few videos to be exceptionally dirty, well maybe there was a correlation. Or maybe not.

**********************************************

The next two weeks you find yourself watching James new videos he posts and viewing his lives whenever you have a chance. He really does work great with his hands and half the time you forget that he is shirtless until he’s winking at the camera or he’s flirty and teasing everyone saying ‘You guys need some water.’ You wish you had the courage to message him and get to know him a little more but your nerves get in the way each time before you can press send. James will send you flirty messages and you will like them but you can never bring yourself to respond. You interact just enough to let him know to keep doing it.

It’s Friday night again and you see he is going live, like always you join and just watch. “So I have recently reached almost 10,000 followers on here, which is a huge milestone and I wanted to celebrate it!” He sits closer to the phone screen and you get a better glimpse of his eyes. Even. Bluer than you originally thought. He has little creases by his eyes that crinkle when he smiles too big and his nose scrunches up. He’s perfect. “Anyone that wants to be added into the drawing leave a comment on my last video saying so. This drawing is for a custom pottery piece of your choice. So if you win I will make you whatever you ask for,” he smirks, apparently knowing some of his followers a little too well. “Well within reason. No ‘life art’ sculptures.” He winks and you feel the blush start to rise. Would someone really be that bold to request that of him? “Anyway, the drawing will happen tomorrow at noon! So go comment now for the chance to win.” He signs off with a little wave and wink. Without even thinking, because if you think about it you will back out, you comment and ask to be added in. Within minutes he has liked your comment and sent another message to you.

*message*

I was gonna add you in regardless. 😉

The heat is almost burning in your face, he doesn’t even know you. How could he be this good at getting a rise out of you?! Your brain won’t shut off that night, thinking and even dreaming about this man behind your phone screen. “Damn it!” You grumble and end up having to watch some old Disney movies just to keep your mind off the filthy things you wish James would do to you instead of the clay he usually is holding. You finally drift off to sleep to the sounds of Cinderella.

****************************************************

“Hey!” Natasha pulls you out of your thoughts as you look up from your morning coffee.

“Hey, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she looks you over. “Man you were really out of it. Didn’t even hear me invite you out.”

“Huh?” You hum in acknowledgment and Natasha rolls her eyes.

“I said I am going out later with my TikTok boyfriend and he has a friend that he can invite if you wanted to join.” She explains for the second time.

“Oh umm now? I-“ you try to think of an excuse, not wanting to miss the drawing on James page. “I actually have plans. With someone online.” Natasha shoots up straight and about squeals in excitement. “Okay okay, calm down.” You laugh. “It’s not a date but this guys been super flirty and I- I don’t know, maybe today I will finally make the move and message him back.” You shrug trying to play it off.

“Tell me everything, now!!” Natasha demands as she sips her coffee. “Don’t leave out a single detail.” You debate on lying, or just making it juicier than it is, but you decide against it.

“Okay, just don’t laugh.” You remind her before you tell her everything. She already has his page pulled up and is drooling over him too.

“He is hot!! Wow, and he said all those things to you?!” Meaning the messages he had sent.

“Yeah, so I don’t know. Maybe he’s trying to drum up business-” Natasha shakes her head.

“No, absolutely not. He is flirting hardcore.” She keeps looking through videos and one seems to catch her eye as her eyes widen and then a big smirk crosses her face before she exists out of the app and lays her phone down. Super quiet and worrying you even more than she does when shes asking you a million questions. “You said there is a drawing today?” You nod and you can see the wheels turning already. “At noon?” She asks and you nod again, she checks her watch and then opens her phone, obviously sending a message to someone.

“Natasha if you are messaging James, so help me-“ she cuts you off.

“And so what if I am?” She teases. “I’m just doing the hard work for you, the correct response is ‘thank you’.” She blows you a kiss as she leaves the room, leaving your stomach in knots and even more worried about this drawing.

**********************************************

Steve is in the garage with Bucky, getting ready for the drawing for his page and starting to film some more content for his own carpentry and woodworking page when he gets a text. He looks over at Bucky and then just laughs and quickly answers back.

“What’s so funny Punk?” Bucky asks and Steve smiles.

“Nothing, Jerk. You need help with the drawing? Where’s the bowl?” Steve asks as he slides his phone back in his pants. Bucky points to where he sat it and Steve grabs it to help.

**********************************************

“Okay everyone, it is noon and we are ready to get this show on the road!” James says happily. You refused to let Natasha sit and watch with you. She can watch on her own phone, but she won’t have a front row seat to your blushing or your disappointment when you inevitably lose. “I had over 500 of you enter, which is just incredible! Next time I should make each entry like $3 and send all the proceeds to wounded warriors.” You gently smile at the kind idea. It’s sweet, thinking of others instead of finding a way to make a bigger payday for himself. “Okay, let’s draw! The bowl, Rogers!” A hand comes into frame and the bowl is above James head. He lifts an arm up and reaches in pulling one slip of paper out. And as soon as the arm appeared it disappeared. James opens the paper and smiles before it turns to a laugh and then a smirk. “Well, user ‘talkdirtytome’, I am looking forward to making that custom piece for you.” You swear he stares right at you as he bites his lip and smiles again. “To everyone else, there will be more in the future! Oh and ‘talk dirty’?” You sit up and answer him like an idiot.

‘He can’t hear you, moron.’ You shake your head.

“I’ll be in touch. Bye everyone!” And the live ends. You lay your head down on your bed and just smile at the thought that James will be making a custom piece of pottery for you. When Natasha speaks she scares you half to death, not having heard her sneak in.

“WOW, you’ve got it bad!” She teases and you toss a pillow at her.

“Leave me alone!” You laugh and yell as you look down at the message that just came through.

**********************************************

When he read your username he had to remind himself that he can’t be partial, at least not on camera, but he couldn’t help the smile. He is gonna do this right and he refuses to mess it up, he’s got just the plan. He grabs his phone from his stand and quickly messages you.

**********************************************

*Message*

James- Idk how you feel about exchanging numbers, which I’d be fine with but I understand if you’re not. So zoom? Maybe later this afternoon?

You blush and quickly write back. Saying that you can’t wait and you will “see” him then. James likes your message and then sends a picture of binoculars. It’s so random and weird but you can’t help but laugh. Maybe Natasha’s right, you do have it bad.

You check your hair about 10 times, make sure your make up is okay, not too much but just enough to make it look like you’re not wearing any at all. Your sundress that you were already wearing perfectly accents your figure and makes your eyes pop. You check the lighting in your room and play with the blinds. With 10 minutes to spare before the arranged time for the zoom you sit down as your computer notifies you that you are in the “waiting room.” Whenever Jane slogs on the camera will turn on and that will be it. As you wait so many thoughts cross your mind. ‘He’s probably gonna be short and keep it super professional.’ ‘He may flirt for the camera but there’s no way he’d actually like me.’, ‘Calm down, he’s probably gonna be on and off as fast as he can.’ You start to doubt yourself and you suddenly feel self-conscious for looking nice. Right as you’re about to throw your hair up and grab a blanket to wrap around your shoulders, the screen goes black and then lights up, James is right in front of you. He doesn’t look right at you, still messing around with his notebook and taking a drink of water, obviously not realizing that you two are already connected. At first when he sees you his eyes just glance over. But then the realization hits and his eyes widen

**********************************************

“Wow,” Bucky is breathless. You’re not just beautiful, you’re stunning. He’s never been mesmerized by a single thing or person in his life, until this moment. “I- uh I’m-“ he lightly laughs as he smiles, he can’t stop smiling. “Hi I’m James,” he laughs and blushes as he hangs his head for a moment. “Um but people who have seen me stutter and stumble over my words, like an idiot, get to call me Bucky.” Your smile is contagious and your eyes sparkle brightly as Bucky talks more and more. Your laugh is sweet and music to his ears.

“Hi Bucky, I’m Elizabeth but people who can make me laugh this much can call me Lizzy or Bunny.” You lean forward a little and Bucky laughs.

“Bunny? There’s got to be a story behind that.” He presses lightly. You nod and hide your face for a moment as you blush and giggle.

“There is, but all I can say now is, it was college and I was very drunk, and someone dared me to use a pogo stick… and it turns out I was VERY good at it.” You laugh and Bucky is amazed as he laughs.

“Well so am I so maybe we will have to have a competition to see who is better.” He winks and you laugh.

“Tell me when and where! I’ll just need a few shots first then my balance will be perfect!” You lightly joke as you both laugh. It gets quiet for a minute and Bucky is just taking you in. “So,” Bucky’s eyes go wide as he remembers the whole reason for the zoom.

“Yes, right! Well how about we start by you telling me what you would like.” Bucky says as he grabs his notebook, looking down and starting to write, maybe if he focuses on writing he won’t embarrass himself even more. But then you start to speak and Bucky can’t help but look up and meet your gaze, your voice so sweet and soft. Your eyes kind and warm, ‘how could the username ‘talkdirtytome’ belong to the picture of purity and kindness.’ He smiles at the thought and tries his hardest to listen as you talk.

“I’m not picky at all, so maybe a vase?” You suggest. “Yeah, I’d like to have a gift that means something to me.” You finish explaining. Bucky just stares and then realizes you are done, he quickly looks down and starts to scribble some notes. He is so handsome, you think. The way his brow furrows as he’s concentrating and how the subtle but noticeable blush spreads across his cheeks. His shoulders are firm and you can tell he is solid. His voice, deep and warm, catches you off guard and you hope he didn’t catch you looking starry eyed at him.

“A Vase? That I can do!” Bucky says happily. He didn’t miss how your voice turned ever sweeter when you said ‘a gift that means something.’ He tells himself not to bet too excited. “Colors? Designs?” He wonders what all is hiding in your mind and if you will share it with him now for this vase. If he can get a picture of who you are.

“I love wildflowers, if I’m being honest. But not bright and bold. More subtle and muted. Almost watercolor like.” You laugh to yourself and you see Bucky’s eyes light up at the sound. “Sorry I know that probably sounds weird.”

She’s perfect, Bucky thinks. “Watercolored wild flowers? Yeah, I can make that happen.” He doesn’t want this to end but he has all he needs. How to make this go longer?! “So- I’m local to Brooklyn- and you by no means have to tell me where you’re from or anything- unless you want to!” He cringes at his awkwardness and your giggles let him know it’s alright.

“I am too, well close enough.” You explain. “So maybe we could meet up?” You see Bucky’s eyes light up and then you shoot yourself in the foot. “When it’s time for me to pick up the vase.” His eyes look a little sadder but his smile doesn’t fade.

“Yeah, I’ll send you a message on TikTok when it’s ready and we can find a place to meet.” Bucky says as he sits back in his chair. “I’m excited to get started on it, it looks like a fun one.” He continues as he looks down at his notes.

“I know it will be wonderful, all your work is.” You compliment, wanting to make up for your error that cause the light to dull in those incredible blue eyes. “I do have a question,” He leans forward again.

“Shoot.” Plan and simple.

“Well, what’s up with your two different accounts and the one username? Because at first I thought it was a porn page.” You explain, hopping to get a laugh. And you did. Bucky laughs, his hand over his pec and head thrown back with abandon.

“Oh no! Were you disappointed?” He teases and you laugh.

“Well maybe I was!” You tease back, not quite sure where the courage came from.

“Well as you know now, I go by Bucky. So I just used the ‘Clay mates’ and my name which does sound a lot like-“

“Yeah! So why?” You press again, smiling even bigger.

“It was a dare from a friend and it kinda stuck. I get tons of people asking so it also generates conversations around my business and what not. So it works! Is it crass? Kinda. Do I care? No.” He laughs again and messes with his hair a little. “So you know I make pottery but what do you do, Bunny?” He smirks and your face is aflame at the use of your nickname.

“I’m a writer, I write romance novels.” Suddenly feels quite bashful about your job. Bucky nods and rubs his chin as he watches you.

“So? Is this a meet cute worthy of one of your books?” Bucky asks. You look behind the computer at your wall where you storyboards are. A gentle smile washes over you as you look back at an expectant Bucky.

“Yeah, I’d say it is.” You admit. An alarm goes off on Bucky’s side of the screen and he curses under his breath.

“Sorry, Bunny. I’ve got to go. If I’m being honest I really wish I didn’t. I’d love to stay here all night getting to know you, I promised a friend I’d go out tonight and I never break a promise. So with that knowledge handed to you on a silver platter,” you laugh and he smiles brightly again. “I promise I will make you a gift that means something.” Your breath catches and you nod slightly.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You say before you both wave goodbye like dorks.

**********************************************

Your chance, gone. Like a lot of chances in your life. Watching them go by because you don’t have the courage to ask for what you want. Natasha walks into your room and pulls you up from the bed. “Come on, we are late.” You finally agreed to go out with just her when you started to come down from the high of getting to talk to Bucky. “I promise, you will have fun. In fact this will be the best night of your life.” She hugs you and leads you to the door. As it opens you come face to face with Natasha’s ‘tiktok boyfriend’

“Hiya Stevie,” Natasha coos as she leans in and gives him a sweet kiss. Steve meets your gaze when he pulls back and offers his hand.

“Hey! I’m Steve Rogers,” he motions beside him, urging someone to move in closer. “And this is my friend Bucky Barnes.” You meet those blue eyes and melt, Bucky’s painfully awkward smile turns genuine when he sees you. He almost shoves Steve out of the way to get closer to you.

“Oh my god- Bunny?!” Bucky exclaims. “So your friend who made your TikTok account is the same one my friend has been dating for the past two months,” he smiles and laughs. “What a small world! God, I’m glad to see you.” You blush at the nickname, Natasha bumping your arm and Steve giving you both a questioning look when he hears the name.

You are just as shocked as Bucky and honestly can’t find the words.

“I’m stunned,” you laugh and look at Natasha. “Did you know?!” You ask her and she smirks as she pulls Steve into her arms.

“I would know my man’s voice and hands anywhere, so when I saw and heard him on one of Bucky’s videos I quickly texted Stevie and we worked our magic.” She winks. “I mean out of 500 entries for the pottery and you won! How lucky was that.” She winks again and you gasp.

“Did you two rig the drawling?!?” You exclaim and Bucky shoots a glance to Steve who is blushing bright red.

“I may have added a few extra slips with your name.” He admits. Bucky turns and faces him as he crosses his arms.

“How many?” Bucky asks and Steve laughs and sheepishly admits,

“Like 200 extra slips. She had a very good chance at winning.” Steve looks at Natasha and then you and Bucky. You both laugh and Bucky turns back to you.

“Well I’m sure as hell not mad,” he reaches out for your hand. “Are you?” He questions and you shake your head no as you put your hand in his. “Good,” Bucky leans in closer and pulls you in, your lips almost brush when you hear your apartment door close and lock. Looking back you see that Natasha and Steve have slipped inside. “So I guess it’s just us tonight,” he laughs and you agree. “What would you like to do? Cause I have no idea what they had planned.” You think for a minute and then turn back to the door and knock. Bucky lets go of your hand and you quickly grab it back giving him a wink. A slightly irritated Natasha opens the door, lipstick gone and smeared all over Steve’s face.

“What?” She asks and you push past her headed to your room. Bucky stands in the hallway watching and praying you come back.

You emerge with your purse that’s pretty big and Natasha knows that’s your “just in case I spend the night.” Purse. You wave goodbye as you grab your keys and close the door behind you. Turning to Bucky and pulling him in, you kiss his cheek and wrap your arms around one of his.

“Where to?” You ask.

**********************************************

Steve drove them there so you offer to drive wherever.

“Would it be too forward to invite you back to my place? I’d really like to show you my studio.” He asks so sweetly, you can tell he is nervous. You tease him a little

“Is that your line for all the girl?” Bucky laughs and shakes his head.

“Nope, I never bring girls back to my studio. But if love to have you there.” The double meaning is not Lost on you or Bucky. The blush giving you away, Bucky laughs and pulls you closer before kissing your forehead and taking your keys. “You okay if I drive us?”

“Sure, just promise not to murder me.” You joke as you climb in your car. Bucky sits and gets it started before he looks at you and shrugs.

“No promises, my art has been described as deadly good.” He winks and you laugh at his horrible joke. Soon you are pulling up to a little house with a detached garage.

“You know, it really does look like you’re about to kill me.” You tease but also look around and check the area.

“I know, it’s not the best house but it works and it’s clean. A good neighborhood and lots of space so Steve and I really try hard for our personalities to outshine the murder aesthetic our house gives off.” He takes your hand and walks you to the garage as you laugh. The garage lights up and on every wall is a shelf full of pottery projects. Some half done, some completely done.

“Wow! Bucky, these are amazing!” You exclaim as you look at the intricate detail on each piece. You turn to meet his gaze and he is leaning against his work table just watching you. Moving through the room with Grace and admiring his work, it’s really doing something to him. He hopes you feel the same way.

“So? How did you get into pottery?” You ask as you run your finger along one of the freshly finished pieces.

“I was in the army, when I got out I needed a hobby that I could turn my mind off and just work. Pottery gave me a place for that and it also gave me a place to rediscover my creativity.” Bucky explains. You turn and look at him, gentle as in your eyes.

“That’s why you said that comment about wounded warriors. You wanna support your fellow vets.” You hope your assumption is correct. Bucky nods and smiles, staying firmly where he is.

“Yeah, I nearly lost my arm before I got out. Others aren’t so lucky. So any way I can give back, I try to.” He picks up a piece of clay and start to mold it while talking, mindless work that helps settle his nerves and al the feelings he is having about you.

“That’s amazing.” You say simply, not wanting to push more.

“How did you get into Romance writing?” Bucky asks, a teasing smile across his face. You laugh and continue to walk around the room, looking at the pieces.

“Well, I’m a hopeless romantic,” you look up and meet his gaze. “So I guess I just write about the things I hope would happen to me.” You shrug, your explanation seems simple enough. Bucky is mesmerized by you, how such a beautiful and sweet woman would be single blows his mind. And so sincere too, none of that fake humility he sees in the women he meets who are as beautiful as you, with you, it’s all real and sweet. It’s refreshing.

“How long have you and Steve Been friends?” You ask, wanting to change the topic from yourself.

“Since childhood, he was always getting his ass beat behind the school and I was always there to step in and finish the fight he started.” You laugh and so does Bucky.

“So Steve was a bully?” You ask.

“No!” Bucky laughs. “Just a little punk who wanted to ‘stick up for the little guy’ but he was the little guy, so.” Bucky lightly laughs and you nod. “How about you and Natasha?”

“Since high school. Her family moved here and she was all ‘cool and steely’ that none of the other kids wanted to talk to her,” you laugh at the thought. “I made it my mission to become friends with her. By senior year we were going to go to the same college and we’re going to room together.”

“She seems like a pretty great friend.” Bucky comments, “And Steve adores her but I’m sure she already knows that cause Steve wears his heart on his sleeve.” Bucky teases and you laugh. For a moment it’s quiet, Bucky just watches you and you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach and a heat settle even lower. This man is so sweet and kind, not to mention incredibly hot. He is absolutely making you regret not wearing your sexy underwear tonight. You see some clay and the wheel sitting in the middle of the floor. You walk over and run a finger over the clay. Looking up and see Bucky’s eyes raking over your body, you feel invigorated. As sexily as you can, you sit on the stool and toss a look over at him.

“Teach me, please?” You demand and then ask. You see the moment Bucky melts and is all in. He smirks and walks over, pulling up a chair behind you and straddling your body. He places his hands on your and shows you where to plant your feet. He leans forward and whispers against your ear.

“This is a little too ‘Ghost’ for me.” He teases and you giggle as you turn and look at him. His eyes drop to your lips and then back to your eyes. Clay forgotten, you spin in his arms and crash your lips to his. His hands roam over your back, pulling you closer. You moan against his lips, desperate for more, but he pulls away. Breathless and blushing he asks. “I hope this isn’t too forward, would you like to stay the night?” You smirk and move back, away from his arms to grab your bag. Reaching your hand out for him to take again.

“Lead the way.” You coo. Bucky has you in his arms and pressed against his chest so quickly. His lips capture yours again and you giggle against them. Bucky lifts you into his arms and expertly makes his way into the house, never leaving your lips longer than a Quick Look at the doors to make sure they are locked.

Stumbling down the hallway, backs pressed against the walls as you both fight for dominance. Giggles and moans filling the air as you grope each others bodies, seeking flesh rather than clothing. When your back finally presses against Bucky’s door, he pulls back and takes your face in his hands. “This isn’t too fast, is it? You feel this too, right? This connection- this pull.” You bite your lip and nod as you place your hands firmly against his chest, the muscles beneath your fingers, firm and hard, drool worthy.

“Yeah, I feel it too.” You admit before kissing him again and moaning against his mouth. Bucky opens the door and kicks it closed with his boot. He walks you backwards to the bed and in utter abandon you allow yourself to fall, fall back, fall in, fall deep. Pulling back slightly, Bucky caresses your cheek and meets your gaze, your heartbeat quickens as he gently smiles and an exciting peace washes over you. You’ve never felt this safe, this fast. Slowing the pace, Bucky takes his time with you. Kissing down your neck and nipping lightly at your collarbone before his fingers dance at the hem of your shirt. Your hands slips under his shirt and your fingers draw line over his back as he moves above you. First to go his his shirt, tossed behind him and across the room. He sees your eyes trailing down his body and he gives you a moment to take it in. His chest is sculpted yet still soft under your touch, the tasteful amount of chest hair along his pec and sternum tickle your fingers as you memorize his body with your finger tips, and the trail of dark brown hair leading down from his bellybutton and disappearing below his waistband sends your mind into over drive. You lean up and kiss along his chest as he moans at the feeling of your tongue grazing along his nipples. He grabs the hem of your shirt and lifts it up and over your head, tossing it with his. Leaning down and kissing the tops of your breast, he is in heaven. The straps slip down and before you know it you are uncoupling the back and tossing it off, needing as little clothing between the two of you as possible. Bucky reaches for his pants and has them shoved down and off as you remove yours. Standing above you in only black boxer briefs you see the outline of his cock, hard and aching against his boxers. Your mouth waters and yet you are slightly afraid because you can tell he is big. Bigger than any man you’ve been with. Bucky settles on the bed between your legs and slips his hands in the waistband of your panties, waiting for permission, you nod and he has them down you leg and scattered with the rest of the clothes. You sit up and kneel in front of where he kneels on the bed, pulling you closer by the small of your back, Bucky kisses you. You wrap your hands around his waist and slip one hand down his boxers, squeezing his ass before waiting for permission to pull them down. He nods, not wanting to release your lips. When nothing is left between your bodies you lay back in Bucky’s arms and he settles between your legs. Rolling his hips against yours and giving you both friction where you desperately need it. Your moan echos off the walls and he smiles, knowing he is the cause. Bucky kisses down your body and ends up laying between you legs as he licks and sucks on your clit, gently teasing your pussy with a fingertip before pushing all the way in and devoting himself to making you cum on his face. You hands play with his hair as his other hand palms your breast. It’s so fast and so good, you can’t help but moan his name as you cum, squirting on his tongue. “Bucky!! Oh-fffffuuuuc- yes!!” He smirks up at you which makes you cum again. He moans and hums against you as he brings you down. He kisses up your body and settles between you legs.

“I can grab a condom if you want.” Bucky says as he is already reaching into his bedside table to grab one.

“I’m on the pill and I’m clean, I haven’t been with anyone in about a year.” You explain. Bucky nods and takes a shuddering breath before he kisses you again.

“I’m clean too, and it’s been even longer for me.” He gives a weak little smile and you caress the side of his face before you gently kiss his lips.

“Never would have guessed with what that mouth just did to me.” You tease, trying to lighten the mood while letting him know he’s still got it. Bucky laughs and kisses you again as he lines himself up with you. Slowly pushing in and watching your face for pain as he bottoms out. “Mmhm ffffuc- yyyeeesss!” you moan at the stretch. Bucky kisses you again and slowly starts to move his hips, in and out, making sure to hit that spot inside of you over and over again. At first he is laying on top of you, your bodies moving together and against each other, it was sweet and sensual. Then Bucky sits up a little and you take that moment to flip him over, pinning him to the bed with a giant smile on his face. You ride him as you brace your hands against his pecs. His moans growing louder and louder as you get him close to the edge. You sit up and play with your breast and you snap your hips back and forth, ready to bring him over. But apparently that wasn’t what he wanted, because suddenly you are on your back and your legs are over his shoulders as he drills into you while one hand plays with your clit. You gasp and moan as you writhe beneath him. “Oh! BUCKY?!?! Yesyesyes!!!”

“That’s it, Bunny. Come on, I’m not cumming till you have cum on my cock. Come on, baby girl.” That did it, his dirty talk and care. You melted beneath him as you cum, squirting again and feeling better than you’ve felt tin years. “That’s it Good girl,” Bucky coos as he chases his high. Pleasure washes over his face as he buries himself inside you, cumming hard and deep. “Mmhmm squeezing my cock so well,” he is in utter bliss and he lets your legs go and just lays down next to you, his softening cock still inside. He kisses your forehead and hums. “Good girl.” You beam up at him, the praise doing something new to you that it’s never done before. He kisses you before he pulls the covers up and over you body, still entangled and coming down from heaven.

“Mmhmm that was definitely the makings of a meet cute.” You admit and Bucky laughs as he kisses you again.

“Come on, let’s go ‘meet cute’ in the shower, huh?!” He pulls you up and into his arms you nod and he carry’s you away.

**********************************************

You stand at the door to you car, the sun rising beautifully and creating a glow around you two. “I wish you could stay longer but I understand why you have to go.” Bucky says as he kisses you again.

“My book won’t write itself and if I stay here I will end up participating in smut and not writing it, which is the chapter I am currently working on so.” You explain as Bucky lightly laughs before he smirks and kisses you.

“Well, feel free to use last night in bed as inspiration. Or the shower last night, or the midnight hand play we had, or ever the slow morning sex we just finished.” He beams as he retells the all the adventures you got up to last night. You blush and burry your head in his chest as he hugs you and laughs.

“I will call you tonight and see about dinner, okay?” He nods and you kiss him again. As you are about to get in your car, Steve’s car pulls in. He honks loudly and gets out cheering and clapping. Completely embarrassing Bucky and you, but you know it’s in good fun.

“Were you two safe?” He asks, adding more fuel to the embarrassment fire.

“Nope, not at all!” Bucky shoots back and you decide to tease too.

“Yeah, totally pregnant over here. It worked that fast! Get ready to move into the garage, Stevie, the baby is gonna need your room.” Bucky laughs and pulls you closer. He kisses you again and then sends you on your way. Bucky turns to Steve and you see them “fighting” as you drive away.

**********************************************

When you get home Natasha is dead to the world and you decide to leave her that way. You see a notification on your phone, it’s Bucky’s TikTok. Opening the app to see a new video.

“Hey guys! Sorry about no live last night.” He blushes, “I uh I met a really amazing Women and my night ended up going a little too well. And it may continue that way, so there may be a change in the live schedule as well as the posting schedule. She’s a writer and our ‘meet cute’ inspired quite a lot in her and I need to be available for any further inspiration.” He winks and then laughs. “But seriously, I’m still around, just maybe not every night anymore. Love you all!” And with that the video ends. You smirk and quickly send Bucky a text.

Message

Hey James, your new Women friend needs some inspiration 😏😉

Within seconds your phone is ringing, as you answer his voice is soothing and so low it’s almost like a purr. “Well, what did you have in mind, Bunny?”

Taglist: @georgiapeach30513 @theinheriteddutchess @rainydayandmondays @cadencejames87 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @jessieasher1616 @janineb86 @cjand10 @welp-heregoessomething

#bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #steve rogers #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes au #tiktok pottery Bucky Barnes

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vivwritesfics · 1 year

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"He Does Know"

The requested part two to "He Can't Know" It can be read as a follow on or as a stand alone.

I'm, maybe, 10000% sure that my ankle is broken so I've been sat in my bed all day trying to write this (no, my ankle definitely isn't broken. I twisted it when rather drunk last night, but it's an already bad ankle so I am in so much pain :')

Part One

When Y/N Wolff told her father about her relationship, she fully expected him to go to the Ferrari garage, bat in hand. But he didn't. Y/N was actually frightened about how calm he was.

The next race was Monaco, Charles' home race. The only people who knew about their relationship was them, and Y/N's dad. It was all a question of what to do next.

Whatever that next step was, Monaco was the perfect place to do it.

The Wednesday before the race was when Y/N arrived in Monaco. Her father hadn't booked her a room in a hotel this time. This time around, she was to stay with her boyfriend.

It was weird. When Y/N first arrived in Monaco and Charles had somebody pick her up, it was awkward. When she made her way to his apartment, it was awkward. When Charles let her in, it was awkward.

"I can't believe this is your first time in my apartment," he said as Y/N sat at the kitchen island.

When he handed her a glass of wine, Y/N gratefully accepted it. "It's really nice," she answered him, looking around. "I'm really happy to be here."

She really was, she was just having a hard time expressing it. It was weird, having their relationship so out in the open. It was weird, not hiding away in the empty corridors. It was weird, being with him and not have to hide away.

It took Y/N an hour or two to properly settle in. Charles helped speed that process along. The sat together on the couch, watching a movie that didn't much need their attention. By the end of it Y/N had a tongue down her throat and couldn't tell you what the movie was about.

"Where do we go from here?" She asked when he finally pulled away.

"What do you mean, mon ange?"

"I mean, now that my dad knows, do we announce it to the world? Do we post it on our social media? Do we just tell the grid?" She sat back beside him, laying her head on his shoulder.

Charles went red. "Well, Max already knows," he confessed.

That settled it then, they were going to tell the grid.

***

Y/N and Charles couldn't yet walk around the paddock hand in hand. They weren't yet ready to be seen by the press together. So, Y/N and Charles resorted to telling the grid individually.

As Charles went around to Red Bull and McLaren, he got congratulated and clapped on the pack. As Y/N told Mercedes and Williams, her father watched over her shoulder, glaring as people congratulated her. They couldn't hug her like they did Charles, not if they wanted to survive the wrath of her dad.

When the entire grid knew, it was like a weight had been taken off Y/N's shoulders. Not a huge weight, but it definitely helped. Now, they just had to get up the courage to tell the rest of the world.

It was funny, wasn't it? How life works out sometimes? If Y/N hadn't resented her father so much, she never would have tried to reconcile with him and she never should have met Charles.

It was all she was thinking about during the race. That, and him. It was her first time at the Monaco Grand Prix, the first time in his home country.

Watching the race was quite an experience. Y/N spent the race with her nails between her teeth, biting them out of anxiety. Monaco was maybe the most anxiety-inducing race on the calendar. As Y/N watched Charles moving around the tight corners, she was sweating.

No podium in Monaco for Charles, but that was expected. His curse, if you will. But still, Y/N celebrated. And, as she celebrated his win hidden away in the dark corner of the Mercedes garage, she realised she was ready.

She was ready to go public. She was ready to tell the world about her love for Charles Leclerc. If it only meant she got to celebrate his races with him.

Still, this was something Y/N wanted to go to her father about. Maybe even ring Susie and ask for her advice. And definitely talk to Charles about it.

Later that evening, tucked away in his home in Monaco, Y/N and Charles talked. They were wrapped in a duvet, the windows opened as they laid together, bare skin on bare skin. "You were amazing today," she said as she ran her fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp with her nails. "I love watching you race."

"I love knowing that you're there watching me. I love that everybody on the track with me knows I have the most stunning girl out there," he replied and kissed the top of her head.

Y/N sat up and Charles sat up with her. "I just wish we could celebrate together."

He looked at her with wide eyes. "You mean, tell the world?"

She nodded.

That evening, Y/N posted to her Instagram story. It was a soft launch, one of the softest launches most F1 fans had ever seen. It was just a picture of his bed, the Ferrari hat on the end of it being a dead giveaway.

Y/N watched as the fans went feral. It was incredible to watch. The tweets and twitter mentions were non stop, the comments on her latest Instagram post (which had nothing to do with Charles) were going crazy.

Charles was next. He pulled up his Instagram on his phone, which was already going crazy, and moved to post a picture. It was cute, one they’d taken in the hotel room during the Australian Grand Prix. Charles holding Y/N on the couch mid cuddle.

The internet went insane.

They got congratulations from their friends in comments and private messages. Even Susie left a comment on Charles’ picture. And then she sent Y/N a message, asking why she was the last to hear about. Of course Y/N had to send back an apology to her step mother, accompanied by a candid of her and Charles

Now, the world knew. It was freeing. Y/N could express her love without fear. There was no telling what her father would do when she swapped her Mercedes hat for a Ferrari one.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc smut

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wtfsteveharrington · 5 months

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take the upper hand | carmen berzatto x reader

push the reset button we're becomin' something new

description: carmen berzatto is stubborn and anxious and doesn't always know how to express himself. your best friend drags you to a party that carmen knows you'll be at and he shows up to make amends and thank god he does because he saves you from dealing with some drunk asshole.

content warnings: angsty!! drinking/party scene, shitty drunk guy w/ a shitty guy mentality!!, reader gets hit on with one night stand suggestion tones, carmen's ready to swing, mentions of anxiety and jealousy. mentions of reader drinking. kissing, mentions of intimacy related scratches, some light smut references.

author notes: my first time posting something that isn't just smut!! also something that no one but me has read!! normally i always get a proof read, not today. but this idea has been rattling around in my ole noggin' for a minute now so here we are. reminder!! you are responsible for your own media consumption!! if this won't be your jam then there's tons of other fics in the sea (: ily thank you!

even if it's handcuffed i'm leavin' here with you

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

The last place you wanted to be tonight was some house party in Wicker Park. With Pitbull, of all artists, playing so loud in the basement that the floor upstairs was still vibrating. Everything was sticky and stinky and you did not wanna be here.

But your best friend was hooked on this guy from her gym.

It didn’t help that Carmy recognized his name from high school and mumbled out some remark about, “Oh yeah, no Dave’s a pretty solid guy.” She was convinced it was a sign that they were meant to be. Not to mention she found his mom’s Facebook and a post from two years ago that included his birth time. The whole train ride over you listened to how compatible the two of them were and how much she loved that he was a Scorpio rising.

She had begged you to come to this God forsaken party and help put in a good word for her. Something had her convinced that if you mentioned just how well you were getting to know Carmen to this Dave guy that he would hold your opinion of her in higher regards.

And sure, maybe there was a part of you that hoped Carmen would be here even while the two of you were feuding. He knew it was coming up but couldn’t promise he’d be off in time - Something you got quite used to. It normally didn’t bother you that he had so many late nights at the resturant but when it rains, it pours and now you’re stuck sitting next to the sink littered cups filled with what can only be best described as some sort of horrific finance bro jungle juice. A mix of 1942 and fresh pressed juice.

Your nose wrinkles up at the smell but you’re quickly refocused at the booming sounds of Ethan Callaghan stumbling through the back door. Another man Carmy knew from high school but didn’t like as much. Something about always being too in-your-face. Though you were pretty sure he was close with the guy your best friend was currently hooking up with in some random bedroom down the hall.

The second his eyes land on you there’s a lopsided smile being thrown your way as he tries to fluff his hair and stand up as straight as possible. He’s stumbling into the kitchen with a full drink in hand, droning on and on about how he was ‘just so jealous’ that your friend went into that bedroom earlier. How nice it must be to not end the night alone. No pleasantries at all, just right into the whole lonely and horny act that was grossing you out.

No one particularly knew you and Carmy were together yet - He wasn’t the type who wanted to label right away and potentially mess things up and you weren’t the type to out your dating status to random drunken men either. Besides, you weren’t so sure that ‘I have a boyfriend’ would put an end to this pitiful man’s sob story.

As if, on queue and manifested right out of thin air, Carmen rounds the corner and takes a second to soak in the sight in front of him. You’re sitting there with your eyes trained on the water bottle in your hands. Ethan’s yapping away about how pretty you are and how big his apartment is. An excellent view in Streeterville that you’d love to see with the best brunch place in town two blocks away blah, blah, blah. Your shoulders are hunched over, body leaning away from Ethan as he stands at the window watching his reflecting in the window above the sink.

“Hey - Been looking for you.”

Carmen.

Your head whips around to the sight of his voice instantly. There’s a pang in your chest at the sight of him standing in front of you after you two had been apart for these last few days. He looked tired. Wearing a sweater he knows you love because he wants to look nice for you. God you wanted to run over and crash yourself against his chest. Screw the petty fight. Instead you’re stuck giving him a very pointed look, hoping he takes the hint to save you.

He’d be lying if there wasn’t a split second where Carmen feared you were actually going to go home with this loser until he saw the panic and annoyance written across your face. Ethan’s laughing at the sight of him. “Hey, Dude. Think we’re all good here, yeah?” Oh he hates this dick.

There’s a thick level of tension in the room as Carmen squares up his shoulders and steps further into the room. His eyes are trained on Ethan who clearly wasn’t expecting much of a fight out of Carmy. He stops when he’s standing between your knees, putting himself between the two of you. Something about the way he instantly turned possessive turned up a feeling deep in your stomach no matter how annoyed you still were.

“Pretty sure someone out back was looking for you, Dude. It doesn’t seem like anyone in here wants you around. Now either you’re too fucking dense to realize it or you don’t care that you’re not wanted, but I’m here to let you know. So I suggest running out back and getting the fuck out of our hair.”

Ethan’s clearly entertained while looking between the two of you, a playful glint in his eye. You’re silently begging him to walk away and find yourself bringing a hand up to put on the small of Carmen’s back. While you’ve never seen him actually fight, you’ve seen many scraps between him and Richie. Heard stories of him growing up and heard the Bachelor party story.

You’re fine not having your own fight stories to tell.

T-Pain is now blasting in the background and the contrast of people laughing and singing downstairs versus the situation you’ve found yourself in is making your head spin. The whole time your best friend is clueless and wrapped up in Mr. Scorpio Rising. She owes you big time. Like you’ve secured friend of the year already and she needs to throw a parade in your honor after going through this.

Ethan’s finally putting his hands up in the air, that shit eating grin still plastered across his features. “My bad, my bad. Didn’t know you were already claimed.” Claimed. Gross. Your fingers press into Carmy’s back, a silent plea to beg him not to escalate this even more. He’s laughing at the sight of the two of you before snagging a half finished bottle of vodka off the counter and backing up towards the back door.

Carmen steps out from between your legs and follows Ethan to ensure he leaves. Shoulders pushed back, chest puffed out. You’d find the sight entertaining if you still weren’t so on edge. Carmen Berzatto, your protector.

And sure, he’s probably just making this asshole someone else’s problem for the night but he doesn’t care. The main priority is getting you away from him and getting you safe.

You catch the sight of his curls out of the corner of your eye when Carmen returns and instantly steel your spine. The shift in the air now that Ethan is gone was thick. He was a distraction from the distance between you two but now you’re preparing yourself for another argument when really you had no energy left to give it. There was a small worry that he’d think you gave Ethan any inclination that you were interested. Even though you two had been tense, there was never anyone else but you but him. Even if you’re too stubborn to drop that information just yet.

Carmen’s quiet. His heavy boots against the floor make your heart beat faster. Everyone had scattered out of the kitchen when he walked Ethan out of there but not before giving you two a nervous glance as they went. Some probably disappointed there wasn’t a fight if we’re being honest.

“Hey.”

You don’t dignify him with a response. Crossing your arms over your chest and taking a sudden interest in the magnets that littered this guy’s fridge. Toying with the idea of putting the ‘Area 51 is for Lovers!’ magnet in your pocket. You figured you deserved something for going through this hell of a night.

He stops himself once he’s reached your side, the silence awkward and thick in the air. Carmy’s hand is on your knee now, his touch not as firm as you’re used to. The whiplash of emotions once again not helping either of you know just quite where you stand.

“M’still mad at you.”

He winces but he knew it was coming.

The two of you wallow in silence. Carmy’s just about to finally speak but someone stumbles in on the hunt for vodka, takes one look at the annoyance on your boyfriend’s face, before quickly muttering they’ll find it somewhere else.

And you still won’t look at him.

He’s grabbing at your waist now, pulling you from the counter and against his chest. You wanna protest but there’s still a buzz going through your body that makes it hard to think quick enough to push back. Plus God does he feel warm and smell so good.

Carmy’s walking backwards towards the fridge, waiting until his back is flush against it to slide down. Bringing down those magnets you wouldn’t stop staring at, family photos, whatever was in his way came with the two of you. He’s tugging you until you’re straddling his waist while he brings his knees up to support you. Grabbing a hold of your face, finally making you look at him and fuck he looks like shit close up. Dark circles, hair a little messier than he’d normally allow, a bit of fear deep in his eyes.

“You gotta tell me how to fix this.” It’s all unfamiliar territory for him. There wasn’t exactly a good example set for him growing up to say the least.

Four days ago Carmen watched as the barista at some coffee shop you wanted to go to flirted with you. That shit already annoyed him, but he tried to bite his tongue. Then your latte came out with a heart in the foam and you kept explaining that’s just how they all come out but he was jealous and possessive and didn’t know how to communicate that so instead the two of you fought in the car for an hour. It was so stupid and he’s been kicking himself in the ass ever since.

The past four days you refused to talk to him and had done a good job at dodging the situation. Normally you two fight, you fuck, and then you pretend everything’s okay. The cycle was getting old and wearing you down.

Until now.

You give a heavy sigh, reaching out to toy with the bottom hem of his shirt. Carmy really did look like it had been going through it so you’re throwing him a small bone. “Maybe not making me sit on a sticky floor would be a good start.” He’s muttering out this small laugh, thankful to hear anything coming out of your mouth let alone a joke, the sound vibrating against your fingertips and you hate how much it fills your heart.

He waits for the rest. The other shoe to fall. Every ounce of laughter is gone when you finally collect yourself enough for - “Do you think we’re good together, Carmen?” You can feel him stiffen under you, his hands gripping at your waist because he needs something to give him some stability.

A beat goes by. “I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Another beat, this time it’s Carmy who refuses to look at you. Eyes downcast and trained on your lap. “But I’m not sure I’m good for you.” You weren’t expecting that.

Once again silence falls between the two of you, still toying with the hem of his shirt before you lean in to bury your face in the crook of his neck. Taking a deep breath that’s filled with his cologne, faint smoke, and just Carmen that you’ve grown to crave. “You just gotta learn to trust me, Carmen. Outta everyone in this world, I’m the main one who never wants to hurt you. Especially for some barista with a fuckin’ comb over.”

You hoped he would laugh again, but the sound never comes. Instead you feel his arms go tight around your body, his knees coming up a bit more which makes you fully lean into his chest. He’s clinging to you, wishing so badly he knew what to say (or could let himself) say what he knows he needs to. Instead he’s just pressing a kiss to your head, sighing into your hair.

“I wanna be better for you. Just don’t know how.”

The two of you cling to each other and fight to get as close as possible. The distance apart these past four days has left the both of you physically aching for one another. It’s been hours, days of a tense heart and checking phones for texts neither of you knew how to send. You press a kiss against his neck, leaning back just enough to grab his face in your hands and stroke your thumbs over his cheeks.

“It’s scary for me too, y’know? This, us. You’re not alone in being scared but lashing out at me isn’t gonna solve anything. I’m not going anywhere, Carmy.” You take the first step in mending the relationship by leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. There’s a hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place as if he’s still scared you’re going to change your mind and run off before he can realize it’s happening.

He’s letting you take the lead and only deepening the kiss once he feels your hands slide under his shirt. Fingers trailing along the toned skin while Carmey licks your bottom lip. Your hands glide around his back where you’re able to trace over healing scratches left on the skin from your last night together.

Your lips part and you take the lead once again, letting your tongue slide along his and giving a low moan into his mouth as you taste him. There’s the lingering taste of cigarettes mixed with black coffee and Carmen. Once again indescribable and simply him. His grip on you tightens up in response and you know if you’re not careful then you’ll end up disheveled and tangled up in the backseat of his car or bent over one of the sinks in a disgusting bathroom. Both options you refuse to pick over getting home and letting him properly make this up to you.

Dragging your nails along the healing marks, Carmen starts to lose track of his kissing. His grip on your neck tightening a bit more, hips rocking up towards you against his better judgement. The motion’s getting needy and sloppy and you have to pull away much to both of your disappointment.

Shaking your head and bringing your hands up to rest flush against his warm chest. “You’re not gonna fuck me on this nasty floor. I deserve better than this.” Which, of course you do. He just gets carried up when he’s wrapped up in you. He’s nodding in agreement but can’t stop himself from licking his own lips to chase the sensation of you.

He’s looking over your features, his heart picking up pace even more than he thought was possible anymore. “Think you’re meant to be my forever, y’know? Sometimes I look at you and it scares the shit out of me because I look ahead and-... It’s you. Kids sitting at a table in the restaurants doing homework. A honeymoon overseas where I get to drag you around different pasty shops and restaurants and we’ll find random art in flea markets to hang when we get home. Take photos that end up framed. It’s you. Always.”

Now how are you supposed to be mad when he’s this open and honest. Unpacking a future you had thought only you considered so far. You hope this behavior sticks. It’s not easy for either of you, but it’s worth fighting through the learning curve. “Kids, huh? Multiple? They’ll be your harshest critics, Carmy. I dunno if you can handle their reviews quite yet.” He’s chuckling, shaking his head with a lazy smile. “No, not yet. But one day.” The promise of more between you finally putting an end to this discussion for now. You make a mental note to remember this moment when the two of you bicker in the future - No matter what there’s always more on the road ahead of you.

Which makes you smile too. Wrapping your arms around his neck. “One day.” You reward him with one more kiss, knowing that’s all the two of you can risk before you end up sprawled out on this floor.

Carmy’s desperate to keep the lightened mood. He’s giving it a moment for both of you to calm back down from kissing before playfully scrunching up his face. “God you taste like shitty tequila.” It works. You’re laughing and swatting your hand against his chest, feeling a bit lighter than you did when you walked into this place. “Carmen Berzatto be nice to me!”

He’s beaming at you now. Bright, happy.

It’s a stark difference from the funk you’d both been stuck in since this fight started. The sight makes your heart swell and you bring a hand up to push some curls back off of his forehead. Leaning in to press a kiss against the tip of his nose.

“Lemme take you home, yeah? Get you some food on the way? Gotta make sure someone so pretty doesn’t wake up with a hangover.” He loves taking care of you in anyway you'll let him.

You nod and carefully start to shuffle off of his lap. Getting yourself to your feet before reaching down to help tug Carmen up to his feet. You catch as he adjusts himself in his pants, a flush blooming along his cheeks and down his neck. Stepping back in until you’re chest to chest with him, you press a line of kisses along his jaw. Rough stubble going away once you find his lips yet again. You hum against his mouth, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek. “You gotta shave in the morning, Carmy.” He’s nodding instantly, reaching his hand down into his pocket to fish out the car keys.

There’s a notification lighting up your phone - Perfect timing. A simple “Gonna spend the night ;)” text from your best friend. You can’t help but to grin and roll your eyes, turning the phone around so Carmen can see the notification too. He’s laughing while sliding a hand into your back pocket and starting to lead the two of you out of the kitchen.

“Yeah, remind me to tell Dave that his friend fuckin’ sucks.”

#why am i nervous to post this #♡: c.b.#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen x reader #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto

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sjywrites · 1 month

Text

༊*·˚ Prada & Versace

: ̗̀➛ 𝓢ugar 𝓓addy!𝓛ee 𝓗eeseung x 𝓕!reader. 𝓖enre smut, fluff, age gap, s2l. 𝓢ypnosis where reader is a broke and single college student celebrating her best friends birthday, and at said party she meets someone who might solve more than just one of her problems. 𝓦𝓒 estimated 5-10k. 𝓒𝓦 age gap, oral (f! and m! receiving), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), pet names (good girl, baby, slut in an affectionate way!), mentions of alcohol, both hee and reader smokes, reader is a bit intoxicated but still fully aware of what she’s doing.

𝓝ote this is a sneak-peak of the actual story, this is the first story I’ve ever posted on tumblr so if you see anything that I can improve, please let me know. I want the first story I post to be good enough for me to be motivated to keep writing!

This is purely fiction and is not meant to interpret how the idols act in real life!

,, not proofread + english is not my first language ! ೃ⁀➷

Flashing lights, loud music and the smell of sweaty bodies. That’s what most clubs look like, and this one was no different.

It was Ryujins 19th birthday, and she wanted to celebrate it with just her closest friends and her girlfriend. That’s why Y/N agreed to it in the first place. She’s not used to social settings and spends most of her time stressing over finals, so being forced into a social setting wasn't making her any less stressed. Her and Ryujin are the complete opposite of each other and she can’t really remember how they became best friends, but somehow they did. And that’s why she’s in this position right now, pressed between strangers in a club that reeked of alcohol, dressed in a skimpy black dress that barely covered her up.

“Hey Y/N, get me another drink will ya’!” Ryujin shouted and laughed, fully intoxicated. “I don’t really think that’s a good idea Ryu” I said, a little worried about her condition “you’ve had a lot already” I tell her, hoping she would just give up “It’s fineee, I’m fineee, trust!” She laughed and grabbed another beer. I tried to stop her but she was too fast. I just gave up and sighed, trying to reason with her when she’s drunk is like trying to argue with a wall “You’re gonna throw up later I’ll tell you that.” I grabbed my lighter and walked outside for a smoke, leaving her to Yeji, her girlfriend. I love Ryujin, but sometimes she can be a handful to look after.

I walk out on the balcony, leaning against the rack and admire the glowing night sky, letting the cold wind run over my body. It’s a relaxing moment until I hear someone approaching and I assume it’s either Ryujin or Yeji, until they lean against the rack beside me. Build too big to be either of them, I look over in their direction. A tall, hot guy with glasses stands there. He lights a cigarette and looks over to me. I forgot how to breathe for a moment, embarrassed, I looked away slightly. When I look back to see if he’s still there, we make eye contact. He’s close enough that I can feel the heat roaming around him. And I can't tell if it’s the embarrassment or the close contact with the man that makes my cheeks heat up, but I’d rather not find out.

I take a look at the man in front of me, scanning him up and down. Dressed in a suit too fine to be worn at a basic club, hair styled in a way that makes it look almost untouched, and his eyes, his eyes were so easy to get lost in. I snap out of it when I realize I’d been staring for a while, a slight smirk on the man's lips as he leans down to my level.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer”

✩ ♬ ₊.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A/N please let me know if you want me to finish it! Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated ♡ (Also someone please teach me how to make my posts aesthetic I've never posted on Tumblr before so I don't know how it works 😔)

#-`♡´- Lia Writes!#enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enha #enhypen fluff #enhypen smut #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen scenarios #enhypen heeseung #heeseung #lee heeseung #lee heesung x reader #lee heesung smut #Spotify

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goblinontour · 2 months

Text

Daddy Came Home

and you’ll gladly break your heart for him

series masterlist | part 2

warnings: soft!dom!alex, smut, piv, daddy kink, br33ding kink, you know how it goes…

word count: 3.7k

London, 2022

You were surprised to see his name pop up on your phone. You hadn’t talked in a while, really talked. It felt like forever. But now he called you up. You didn’t get to it in time, but he left a voicemail, asking to see you. He told you he had a break from the tour for a couple of weeks and he would be in town.

Did he think you were going to get into bed with him again so easily? Well, truth be told, you probably would. It had never gotten serious between you. You’d just fuck whenever he felt like it or whenever you felt like it, regardless of whether you two were in separate relationships or not. Maybe it wasn’t right. Probably wasn’t. Definitely wasn’t. But it didn’t stop you before, and it wasn’t going to stop you now.

Not that you had a boyfriend at the moment, but you suspected he had a girlfriend. Yes, you kept up with him. You were curious to see what he was up to. But if he was calling you, then that meant that the so-called relationship he was in wasn’t serious. Or not that serious. He wouldn’t ask to see you otherwise, would he? Maybe he didn’t want to fuck. But what else would he want from you?

The last time you saw him, it had been one of those rare nights when the city felt more alive than ever.

His hair was still short back then, compared to the more recent pics you’d seen of him, though not as short as the fresh buzz cut he had when you first met. You’d spent hours just talking and laughing, almost forgetting the physical aspect of your relationship. Almost. But by the end of the night, the familiar pull was too strong to resist. It always was. The tiniest touch of his hand on your arm was all it took for you to get him to fuck you in the bathroom of the bar.

You wondered if this time would be any different. As you debated whether to call him back, your mind wandered to all the times you’d spent together. The whispered secrets, the things he’d tell you when he was just drunk enough that you knew no one else could ever find out about.

But there was always that unspoken understanding. No strings attached. No commitments. Just a series of fleeting moments that left you both satisfied and yet somehow always wanting more.

You sighed, staring at his name on your screen. What was it about him that made it so hard to say no? Maybe it was the way he looked at you, how it made you feel like you were the only person in the world that mattered. Or maybe it was the way he could make you laugh, even when you felt like crying. Or maybe just the way he fucked you. Whatever it was, it was enough to make you consider seeing him again. Even after not hearing from him for years now.

Taking a deep breath, you pressed the call button and waited as the phone rang. He picked up on the second ring.

“Hey.” he said, his voice smooth and so familiar, like nothing had changed and no time had passed.

“Hey.” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I’m in town.” he said. “Don’t know if you got my message.”

“Got it.”

“So, what do you say? I know you miss me.”

“What makes you think so?” you shot back.

“You called back.”

You could almost see the smirk on his face, and it was infuriating, but he was right.

“So, lunch? Tomorrow?” he asked again.

You hesitated for a moment, but then you smiled to yourself. You were so weak when it came to him. “Yeah, I'd like that. Where?”

“Perfect. I wanna try that place you keep posting about. The one you say has the best wine.”

“Have you been stalking me?” you asked, half-joking.

“No, not stalking. Just keeping myself updated, so to speak.” he replied smoothly.

“You don’t even like wine.”

“I know I don’t, but you do.” he said, his voice carrying that familiar warmth.

You couldn't help but smile at his response, a small part of you touched that he remembered the detail. “Alright. Noon?”

“Noon it is.” he confirmed.

As you hung up the phone, you felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension. You thought about it again. Noon. It was weird that he was just fine with that. Noon wasn’t really giving ‘I’m gonna fuck you in the car after we eat’ vibes. Noon was giving lunch with a friend or a casual date, not the usual hookups you were used to with him.

Maybe he really did just want to catch up, you mused. Maybe this time would be different. Maybe this time, you’d figure out what it was you really wanted from each other. Or maybe you’d just end up right back where you started.

The next day, you arrived at the place you decided upon a few minutes early. You were never late. He often was. But hopefully he wouldn’t take too long today. You chose a table outside, guessing he probably still smoked.

As you waited, you couldn’t help but glance around. It was a place you’d often visited with friends. Seeing it now, with the prospect of seeing him again, made it feel different. There was a charged energy in the air, a mix of anticipation and maybe even some nostalgia.

When he finally walked into your view, you looked up and your breath caught. He looked effortlessly cool, as always, with his slightly tousled hair. Sharp lines. Head to toe. His jeans were tight on his thighs but flowed into a slight flare the lower you looked. Sunglasses propped on his nose, as always. His aviators were the only thing obstructing your view. You couldn’t see his eyes, but he noticed you staring at him. He didn’t say anything, though. He was doing the same thing.

He approached the table with that familiar swagger, a half-smile playing on his lips. “Hey.” he said, sliding into the seat across from you.

“Hey.” you replied, your voice catching slightly. “Glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it, I was the one who invited you, after all.” he said, removing his sunglasses and setting them on the table. His eyes finally met yours, and you felt that familiar jolt. It was as if no time had passed at all.

You both ordered drinks, falling into an easy conversation about the city, your friends, and his latest tour adventures.

As you two glanced over the menu for something to eat, he asked, “Any recommendations? What should I get?”

You pointed out a few of your favourites, but he seemed pretty set on ordering a burger. “It’s nothing special.” you warned him, but he insisted, so you let him be.

When the second round of drinks arrived, you sipped on your wine as he drank his beer. The conversation flowed effortlessly, but your attention kept drifting back to him. The way he moved, the sound of his voice, the little details you had missed.

Eventually, the food arrived. You watched as he made a mess of himself with the stupid burger, the grease and juices dripping down his fingers and hands. Despite the mess, there was something undeniably arousing about the way he licked his fingers clean. He noticed the way you were staring. He knew. And it was like he was doing it on purpose at this point.

Determined not to be the only one affected, you decided to taunt him too. You grabbed his beer bottle, wrapping your lips around the neck and taking a sip, slowly, looking him straight in the eyes. He knew very well what you were hinting at.

“Cheeky.” he said, grabbing a napkin to properly clean himself.

“Not my fault you’ve been neglecting me for years. Thought you forgot about me.” you shot back.

“Are you saying you haven’t had sex since I last saw you?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Never said that.”

“So, you’re just saying that no one fucked you like I do then?”

“Didn’t say that either.”

“Mhm, if you say so.”

“You’re such an ass.”

“Look, I know my arse is big, but it’s not my only feature.” he joked, easing the slight tension with a grin.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here we are.” he said, leaning back in his chair, his eyes never leaving yours.

There was a charged silence between you, the air thick with the unspoken knowledge of what was bound to happen eventually. Despite your best efforts to keep things light, the familiar pull was undeniable. You both knew where this was heading, but for now, you were content to let the moment stretch, savouring the connection that had never really faded.

As the afternoon wore on, you found yourselves lingering at the table, reluctant to let the moment end. It felt like a tentative truce. Watching the other tables become vacant only for another group to occupy them, while you stayed there, in your spots.

He lit a cigarette at one point, when another round of drinks arrived. You’d lost count. You watched as he took a drag and blew the smoke away from you. He still had his manners in that regard. “You still don’t mind, right?” he asked with a smirk.

“I don’t, but thanks for being so considerate.” you said, rolling your eyes but smiling nonetheless.

“I’m glad you came.” he said, his tone softening. “I’ve missed this. Missed you.”

You looked at him, studying his face. There was something different in his expression, something deeper and more reflective than before. As he leaned back in his chair, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu. It was like every other time, yet something felt different. Maybe it was just you, hoping for something more, something deeper. You took a moment to bring yourself back to reality. You couldn’t let yourself fall for him now just because he looked at you slightly differently.

“Does your girlfriend know you’re here?” you asked, though you knew the answer.

“No. Is that a problem?”

“Is it?”

“No, I don’t think so.” he responded, stretching his arm to reach the ashtray in the middle of the table, getting rid of the burnt bits gathering at the end of his cigarette.

“I’ve missed you too.” you admitted, the honesty surprising even yourself.

“This place is nice.” he said, looking around at the lights that lit up with the sun starting to set.

“Are we gonna get to the point of this soon?”

“There’s no point. I wanted to see you.”

“In your bed, maybe.” you said.

“And preferably naked.” he joked, stubbing out the rest of the cigarette and waving at the waiter for the check.

You laughed, shaking your head at his bluntness. “You never change.”

“Would you want me to?” he asked, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

“Sometimes.” you admitted quietly. “But then again, sometimes not.”

He nodded, understanding the complexity of your feelings without needing further explanation. The waiter arrived with the check, and he quickly settled it, leaving a generous tip.

As you both stood up to leave, he placed a hand on your back, guiding you along the way. The contact was electrifying, a reminder of how easily he could affect you, and you knew, despite your best intentions, that you were already in too deep.

You walked down the street together, the conversation light and easy, but the underlying tension palpable.

“So, where to now?” he asked, glancing over at you.

“Your place?” you suggested, the words coming out before you could second-guess yourself.

He smiled, a mix of relief and anticipation in his eyes. “Sounds perfect.”

The walk to his house was a blur, the anticipation building with each step. When you finally arrived, he unlocked the door and held it open for you, his eyes never leaving yours. Inside, the familiarity of his place hit you. Little details that reminded you of past encounters, shared moments, and unspoken drunken promises you both pretended never happened.

He closed the door behind you, and you turned to face him, the air between you thick with tension. “So, no point to this, huh?” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

He stepped closer, his hands finding your waist. “No point.” he agreed, his lips brushing against your ear. “Just missed you.”

You tilted your head back, meeting his gaze. “Show me.” you challenged, your heart pounding in your chest.

His response was immediate, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both slow and desperate. He was kissing you as if he was trying to relearn the shape of your lips and how they fit together with his. Eventually, he nudged you with his tongue, asking for your permission, which you gave immediately. You hadn’t realised just how much you missed his taste until now when you felt it again spreading inside your mouth.

He led you to the bedroom, his lips only leaving yours for maybe two seconds at a time to catch his breath and take a glance, making sure you wouldn’t bump your head into a wall or something. But your body remembered the way perfectly. Clothes began shedding, his boots lost along the way wherever he’d kicked them off.

“I’m gonna fuck you.” he said, lips trailing down your neck to one of your shoulders.

“Yeah.” you breathed out.

“I’m gonna fuck you hard.” he paused, biting your flesh and holding it between his teeth until it stung, before letting it go. “I’m gonna make you remember I’m the best.”

“Mhmmm.” you murmured.

Weak. So weak. So fucking weak for him already.

He pushed you onto the bed, his hands rough, just as you remembered them, as they roamed over your body, exploring and rediscovering every inch of you. You felt his weight settle over you, his presence overwhelming and intoxicating. He kissed his way down your body, taking his time, his breath hot against your skin.

He flipped you over, grabbing your hips and lifting them up, positioning you just how he wanted. He had a thing for fucking you from behind. He’d told you once how it helped him not fall for you too hard, but that was one of the drunk conversations you both chose to ignore the next day.

He teased you for a while longer, bending down to pull you apart with his fingers. You felt exposed, so utterly exposed to him, even though it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before. Thank God for the alcohol that helped ease your nerves. You felt his breath on your pussy as his mouth lingered close. You wondered if he was actually gonna touch you or not. But he just spit on you, the cold saliva hitting you, taking you by surprise.

He quickly repositioned himself and slid inside you fully in one stroke.

“Fuck.” you moaned.

He felt bigger than you remembered. Or maybe you just weren’t used to him anymore. There was a period when you’d fuck so often your pussy practically got molded to his shape inside. Now, every inch of him stretched you in a way that felt both painful and blissful, filling you completely.

He set a steady, relentless rhythm, his grip on your hips firm and possessive. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making you gasp and moan uncontrollably. You clung to the sheets, trying to steady yourself against the onslaught of sensations he set upon you.

“Remember this.” he whispered, his voice a low growl in your ear as he leaned down, his chest pressing against your back, and he nipped at your shoulder while thrusting into you with a force that made you cry out,

“Yes, daddy.” you managed to gasp, your mind swimming in the intensity of the moment.

You didn't even realize what you just said, too fucked out and drunk on his cock to think about it. He paused, his movements slowing to a stop.

“What did you just say?” he asked, pulling out and flipping you around swiftly so he could look at you. His eyes bored into yours. You would’ve expected a tinge of amusement. But it was like you pressed a button that turned him on more than you’d ever seen. Primal.

“Yes.” you repeated, pausing just to see his reaction. “Daddy.”

“Call me daddy again if you want me to make you come.” he ordered, playfully teasing you by slapping his cock on your clit repeatedly and nudging your entrance but not slipping back in.

“Please fuck me, daddy.” you pleaded, your voice breathless and desperate.

“Good. I want you to think about this every time you try to forget me.” he said, pushing back inside you and motioning for you to wrap your legs around his waist. His rhythm resumed, each thrust deeper and more forceful than the last, driving you to the brink.

You obeyed, wrapping your legs around him, locking your ankles behind his back. The new angle intensified everything, and your nails dug into his shoulders as he began to thrust again, even deeper and even harder. Your body arched in response to the exquisite pleasure he was giving you. His words echoed in your mind, branding themselves into your memory with every movement, every sensation, ensuring that you would never be able to forget this moment, or him.

“Harder, daddy.” you whimpered, the word slipping from your lips as if it were the only thing you knew how to say anymore.

His eyes darkened with satisfaction at your submission. “That’s it.” he murmured, his voice a rough caress. “Let me hear you.”

Each powerful stroke drove you closer to the edge, your body responding eagerly to his commands. The pressure built within you, coiling tight and hot, until it was all you could focus on. Your breath came in short, desperate pants as you felt yourself teetering on the brink of release.

“I’m gonna fill you.” he groaned, his voice thick with lust. “I’m gonna fill you up with my cum. And then I’m gonna fuck you again.”

He pressed his hand firmly on your stomach, right where you could feel the deep intrusion every time he thrust into you. “Can you feel me inside you?” he asked, his breath hot against your ear.

You nodded frantically, unable to form words, the intensity of his touch and words amplifying your need.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you’re full of me.” he declared, his voice a low, commanding growl. His movements became even more urgent, pushing you toward the edge as his hand continued to press on your stomach, emphasising just how deep he was inside you.

He knew exactly how to push you to the brink, keeping you there until you were desperate for release.

“You wanna come?” he asked, as if the answer wasn’t obvious.

“Please.” you begged

He slid his hand lower between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in tight circles. The combined sensations of his thrusts and his touch sent you spiralling, your orgasm crashing over you with a force that left you trembling.

“Fuck, yes.” he groaned, feeling you clench around him.

He increased his pace, chasing his own release. The room was filled with the sounds of your ragged breaths and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. He wasn’t far behind, his movements becoming erratic before he let out a guttural groan, his body shuddering with release. You felt him tense and he buried himself deep inside you, groaning as he came.

He only stopped for a few seconds before starting to move inside you again. You knew it wouldn’t last long. He was growing tired from the position, and you were starting to feel sore from the sheer intensity with which he fucked you.

Everything was wet. You could hear the sound of his cum getting fucked back into you, each thrust squelching with the evidence of his release.

His movements became more frantic, more desperate, until he came again. It was weaker this time, but the feeling of him filling you up again drove you over the edge, your legs trembling and falling to the side.

“Full.” he whispered as he collapsed on top of you, gathering the strength to move.

When he felt capable, he pulled out, sliding down on the bed and using his fingers to try and push everything back inside you. There was so much, too much to not drip out, but he pushed his fingers as deep inside you as he could, giving your pussy a light slap before he collapsed back on the bed, this time next to you.

For a moment, you both stayed like that, just staring up at the ceiling as you tried to your breaths. The room felt heavy with the weight of what had just happened. It didn’t feel like a random fuck. Not when he was saying stuff like that. And you weren’t sure you could just ignore it.

He turned to you, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch surprisingly tender. “Missed you.” he said again, his voice softer now.

You turned to look at him, searching his eyes for any hint of what he truly felt. But as always, he was an enigma, his feelings hidden behind a carefully crafted facade. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nodded, your heart still racing.

It was always like this with him. Intense, consuming, and leaving you wanting more, even when you knew you shouldn’t. You knew deep down that this wouldn’t change anything, that tomorrow you’d both go back to pretending this never happened.

a/n: sequel to ‘Dublin In Ecstasy’

based on this request

this just flowed so well i don’t know how it happened. i didn’t know how to start it at forst but i had some notes about the whole burger scene from last year and then it just kept going. kinda like how it turned out, missed a bit of dom!al

tags: @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @aacheinthejaw @zayndrider @humbuginmybones @tedioepica

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner x you #alex turner smut #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfic #smut #goblinontour #once upon a time

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jade-jini · 9 months

Note

HI been thinking abt g!p loser yunjin getting emotional during sex 😭 can i request a somno one where she comes home drunk late at night, looking for reader only to see her asleep on their bed! yunny getting hard at the sight and emotional as she remembers their argument, she couldn’t help herself but touch her gf, soft “sorry’s” and “don’t leave me” leaving her mouth as she fucks reader 😖

TW: somno, angst, happy ending ig. Dubcon. Dacryphilia. Yunjin is insecure.

Can I give you g!p loser somno Yunjin? Yes. Is it from the same storyline as the previous posts? Hell no. That baby would never. That one is fluffy fluffy this is a completely different one ok? Ok 🤨. After clarifying that…😈

“Hey, a*hic*nother one, please…” Yunjin said, raising her empty glass, her vision not good enough to catch where the bartender actually was. The guy sighed as he dried a washed glass with a towel.

“Listen kid, we’re already closed. Why don’t you go home already?”

“Home?” Yunjin asked unconsciously, the memories of that day hitting once again.

——————————Flashback—————————

You guys were supposed to get home together after a long day. Yunjin was gonna pick you up after your last class of the day, the orange sky and sunlight hitting against her own hair as she waited for you. She had a nice flower in hand, excited to give it to you. Softly placing it near her nose to smell it one more time, she made herself blushed thinking about your smile once she saw you. However, you were not alone. Her smile dropped right away as she left the flower fall somewhere.

There you were, standing with a friend she very well recognized. It was this one girl from the women soccer team of the university. Yunjin knew her name, everybody knew her name. But she never liked using it, making it clear she did not like this person at all.

“She seems to like you a lot…” she murmured after the first time she saw you talking to Yeji.

“I like her too, she’s a good friend, and she’s friends with Yeojin already so it’s cool” you explained, apparently not getting the message right away.

“Hmmmm, not what I meant but whatever..” she said as her pout got bigger, letting go of your hand and crossing her arms in front of her chest. That’s when you finally noticed.

“Huh Yunjin, are you jealous?” You asked, trying to stop a giggle.

“Maybe? I mean she’s athletic and popular, and you’re so pretty, baby. Who wouldn’t want you? I wouldn’t be surprised if one day you decide you want to give her or somebody else a chance…”

“Omg shut up, that could never happen. I love you. You, Yunjin.” You told her, taking her hand and kissing her cheek. You didn’t have eyes for nobody else but Yunjin, so you didn’t wanna hear none of that nonsense.

“Yeah but still…” she murmured, and you simply sighed and continued walking hand in hand, trying to be extra sweet and clingy to your girl to distract her from those thoughts.

You thought it was cute the first couple times, but then her attitude started becoming more serious every time. It wasn’t your cute girlfriend being a little jealous and protective. It was like a completely different person taking over your sweet girl. You guys have already had more arguments about this situation. They were never too bad.

Until today.

“Oh, hi baby!” You greeted your girlfriend once she met you guys, smiling at her like you did every time, with love and excitement like it was the first time you saw her.

“Hi, Yunjinie.” Yeji tried, as always, to be on the good side of the taller girl. Yunjin just looked at her, nodding at her and humming. She looked back at you.

“Ready to go? Maybe we can go get something to eat at your favorite restaurant before getting home.” She asked while smiling at you only, not wanting to acknowledge the other girl’s presence more than necessary.

“Oh nice! Wanna join us before going home, Yeji?” You asked your friend, knowing she lived very close to your building. Yunjin’s smile left again, rolling her eyes.

“Oh! Actually-”

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be today?” Yunjin murmured, a bored tone that she didn’t try to hide. In her mind, this was the least rude she could be towards Yeji.

“Huh Yunjin…” you warned her, a challenging tone growing in your throat and your eyes telling you weren’t gonna tolerate that.

“It’s ok, y/n.” Yeji said with an awkward laugh, trying to avoid yet another conflict. Unfortunately, she has been present before when your girlfriend showed clearly discomfort with her presence near you. “I can’t go anyways, Lia’s class must be almost done, and we have a date today so…” she commented, a slight blush appearing on the girl’s face. “Anyways, see you later.” The older girl said with a smile, waving her hand as she walked away quickly to go pick up her own girlfriend. You smiled and waved back at her, and once you turned back at Yunjin, her face was still showing she was upset. You shook your head, starting to walk. She followed you behind.

“What, you’re gonna leave me here now?” She asked as you didn’t give her a chance to walk beside you. You rolled your eyes.

“What the fuck, Yunjin?” You asked her as you slowed down a bit so she could catch up. “I’m tired of you being rude to every friend I have. First it was Chaeyoung and Yeojin and now-”

“Yeojin wouldn’t stop touching you! Am I supposed to be ok with that?!” She interrupted you, her voice getting a little louder and shaky.

“And now!” You interrupted her back, making her go quiet. “She barely looks me in the eye when you’re present ‘cause she knows you get easily jealous.” Yunjin scratched the back of her neck as she opened the car’s door for you. Once she got in the driver’s seat, she spoke again. Her voice changing to a sadder one.

“I’m just scared of losing you, y/n. You know that…” she said, as she started driving. You looked at her, examining her face. You could tell she was in distress about this. However, being insecure didn’t give her the right to treat your friends bad. You stayed quiet for a little while as she drove. Once you were walking to your apartment, you spoke again.

“I’ve told you Yeji has a girlfriend, yet you’re still treating her like this.” You heard her huff.

“Am I supposed to believe that?”

“Excuse me?” You looked at her with a frown, clearly offended.

“If she had a girlfriend she wouldn’t be stuck to your side all the fucking time.” Yunjin said, her voice getting deeper than normal. She was very upset, but so were you.

“Because she’s my friend, Yunjin! Friends spend time together! Why can’t you understand the concept of that?” You told her in the same tone, seriously tired of the constant fighting about such an insignificant thing as you hanging out with your friends.

“I don’t spend all the time stuck to my friends.” she remarked once you opened the door.

“Even if you did, I wouldn’t be making these scenes because I actually trust you. Do you even trust me?”

“It has nothing to do with that-”

“Do you even trust me, Huh Yunjin?!” You asked her again in a louder tone. You were not gonna let her evade this question. Yunjin didn’t like your tone nor the accusations. So instead of processing what she actually felt, she acted impulsively.

“No! I don’t trust you nor your fucking flirty friends! I’m tired of all this!” She yelled, her breathing becoming irregular.

You went quiet, feeling your heart hurt. The girl you loved didn’t trust you. You’ve done everything in your power to show her she’s your one and only. That nobody else comes even close to her in your heart. Yet her insecurities were hurting you both.

“Then go.” You said after you swallowed the lump in your throat, your eyes already getting watery.

“What…” she whispered, starting to panic as she felt her heart sink.

“Trust is the most important thing in a relationship, with honesty. If we don’t have that, we don’t have nothing.”

“Oh my god I am so sorry, y/n… I didn’t mean to say any of that.” She tried apologizing, the weight of her words hitting her. Hard. She fucked up.

“If you don’t even trust me, then why haven’t you left?” You asked her, feeling that even speaking was hard at the moment.

“I’m sorry. I’ll work on it. Please give me another chance, baby. Please.” Your girlfriend said, trying to hold your hands but you put them close to you avoiding this, such action breaking her heart a little more ‘cause you’ve never rejected her touch before.

“I’ve been patient and understanding but your jealousy just keeps getting worse. I need some time right now…”

“No! Please don’t.. please baby, don’t say that…” tears were threatening to come out already, her hands trembling at the idea of losing you.

“At least for tonight. I need to think about us, please go Yunjin.” You almost begged, voice getting softer due to the sadness taking over the anger now.

“y/n, please…”

“Just leave, Yunjin. I need some space today, please.” You said, not even looking at her. You couldn’t, because if you did you would ask her to stay and you actually needed some alone time to calm down. You heard her hesitate, but nevertheless her steps resonated in the now empty room.

————————End of flashback————————

“My home doesn’t want me at home…” Yunjin said as she began sobbing again. The bartender, weirded out, tried comforting her after calling a taxi for the young woman.

“Listen dude, I don’t know who hurt you, but you gotta go home. There’s a taxi outside ok? Just tell them where to go and I don’t know, get some makeup sex or something.”

“Makeup sex? Hmm..” the idea of it already causing an effect on her intoxicated mind. She quietly went home, with only the image of you in her thoughts, feeling her friend reacting to it.

“y/n? Baby are you h*hic*ome?” Yunjin asked once she stepped foot on the living room of your apartment, clumsily looking for you. “I-I’m sorry baby… please I l*hic*love you. Let me show you I love you.”

When she didn’t get a response, she made her way to your shared room. Her messy hair in front of her eyes making it a little extra complicated for her to see where she was going, but she wasn’t that messed up yet. Once she got to the bedroom, she found you deep in your sleep, looking beautiful as ever. She always thought you looked cute when sleeping, but tonight when she noticed how you were using nothing but her big shirt, the blanket barely covering your naked legs, cute wasn’t the word she’d use to describe you.

“God you’re so sexy, so perfect… I could never lose you…” she said as she got closer to the bed, falling sat next to you. The new weight made you move a bit, but it didn’t wake you up. “Please w-wake up, darling. I need you…” she whispered as she fixed her member, that was already getting hard by the view in front of her. Her other hand traveled to your thigh, caressing the skin as she slowly made her way to your ass. With the shirt going up a bit, she could see that you really were using nothing but her shirt.

“You knew I was c*hic*oming, Hmm?” She hummed, getting rid of her jacket and unbuttoning her pants to get her hand inside them, touching herself on top of her boxers. Soft groans escaping Yunjin’s lips as she felt her member getting harder and harder. She couldn’t help but put your shirt a little higher, leaving kisses on your stomach. Her lips slowly going up until she was kissing your chest, going from one nipple to the other. She was straight up moaning against your chest as she slowly sucked on them. With her dick already out of her pants, she needed to have you. She needed to prove to you she loved you always. As she made her way between your legs, she slowly started stroking her cock, licking her own lips before starting to eat you out. Yunjin could feel you softly moving under her, but you were a heavy sleeper. “So good.. tastes so good, baby.” She said as she made out with your pussy in such a messy but sensual way. The little whimpers coming from her as she stimulated both of you, and the little groans you’d let out in your sleep, were the only sounds Yunjin’s ears could catch. “P-please don’t leave.. if you do.. You’d break my heart..” the taller girl said, kissing your thighs, the idea of you actually leaving being an option got her sad again. As her eyes got watery, she fixed herself better between your legs, her member against your now very wet cunt, making sure to get herself wet too so she doesn’t hurt you. More soft sounds were coming from you, similar to the ones you do when awake. Yunjin’s clouded mind was thinking that maybe, if your body was reacting to her like this even when asleep, then you didn’t really want to leave. “Oh fuck…” she moaned as she slowly entered you. “Please don’t leave, I’m gonna miss this pussy too much…”

She started thrusting inside you slowly, sighing as your tight pussy grabbed around her so good every single time. She loved how well your bodies understood each other, and the thought of it being like this even when you’re not awake got her dick twisting inside you. This didn’t stop her from being sad though, knowing that after your argument that day, you probably wouldn’t have accepted this so easily.

“Please…” Yunjin whispered, her voice breaking in between pleads, tears threatening to fall “please d-don’t leave me.. I can be better than them.. p-promise..” she sobbed, the warmth of your body bringing both comfort and sadness, scared the next morning you’d be gone.

“What.. what the.. fuck? Hmmm.. Jen?” You murmured as her rougher actions slowly started to wake you up “w-what are you-”

“Please l-let me do it, if you’re gonna leave..” she said in between sobs “let me have you one last t*hic*ime..”

“W-who said I- fuck~ was gonna leave, baby?” You asked her, confused in between moans. Your hands automatically hugged her shoulders as you felt her cock reaching those spots inside you only Yunjin could ever get to know.

“I r-ruined it.. but please don’t go. I’m s-sorry, y/n. I love you…” she said, her moves now a little softer and slower. However you weren’t angry at her, how could you when she felt so good deep inside you, and her tears making her look so cute and pathetic, turning you on so much for some reason. You didn’t care to understand it though, your mind also getting clouded by desire for her.

“So cute when you cry. Do you feel sorry, baby?” You asked her, grabbing her face. She nodded eagerly, tears running down her face. “Why.. why are you sorry, tell me.”

“Hmmgh y/n.. I’m sorry for b-being mean, and jealous…” she dragged her words, but you were able to make out what she was saying. “S-sorry for not asking for permission first…” her sobs became more intense, but so did her thrusts inside you and you weren’t sure if her tears were more sadness or pleasure, probably a mix of both. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry y/n.. Hmm please…”

“Shhh, keep going baby, don’t you dare stop.” You threatened her, her teary eyes making your pussy clench around her cock, making your girlfriend moan loudly “such a fucking good cock, feels so good…”

“Hmmm fuck… you feel so good too, wanna be inside you forever…” she said as she pounded your pussy so good. Even when drunk, she knew what your face was saying, knowing she was hitting you in a spot you really like, getting you closer. “Like this, baby? D-does my cock feel good here?”

“So good… don’t you fucking stop.. Hmm fuck, baby!” You came intensely as her name kept coming from your mouth again and again, music for her ears. The sensation also making her moan, feeling herself too close.

“y/n, I’m gonna come…” she warned you, but you weren’t done with her punishment. You turned you guys around, holding her wrists against the mattress and riding her “oh god…” she moaned as she bit her lip. When you felt her dick inside you twisting, meaning her orgasm was just seconds away, you quickly got off her, ruining her orgasm as she finished untouched “Ahh! F-fuck.. nooo.. fuck!” She whimpered and cried as her cum ended on her thighs and some on her abs. “Why… that hurt, y/n..” she complained, hissing a bit when a cold wet towel made contact with her skin to clean her.

“That’s what you get for being a bad girl.” You told her, receiving a groan for her. When you turned around to see her, her eyes were still full of tears, a pout on her face. You simply laughed before holding her closer to you. “Don’t worry baby, tomorrow when you’re sober I’ll make sure to take care of you good.”

#kpop gg #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #le sserafim #le sserafim x reader #huh yunjin #le sserafim imagines #le sserafim scenarios #le sserafim x y/n #huh yunjin x reader #huh yunjin smut #g!p yunjin #g!p loser yunjin #tw: somnophilia #g!p yunjin x reader #le sserafim yunjin #le sserafim x fem reader #le sserafim smut

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lbxbx · 4 months

Text

Blackmail 5 | KTH

Pairing: Idol!taehyung x reader

Genre: smut, angst. Five shot

Synopsis: being part of their staff meant you had to be around them all the time, Taehyung has a checklist of all the girls he slept with and filmed and you were next on the list, as he lures you using several ways one of them being actually showing you the content he films, before you finally give in and he actually films you to tick you off of his list. Little do you know it’s the biggest mistake ever.

Disclaimer: events and incidents in this fiction are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. This does not resemble Taehyung’s character whatsoever. taglist: @idkduewhy @wiebouquetbarbarian @tan-veee @pookiej @xstfudaisyx @junecat18 @whipwhops @mother2onsters @lil0u0 @whoa-jo @latinapoetbts

Your doorbell rings twice before you rush to open it, your joints still feel loose from the night before and today hasn’t been quite your day, despite it being your weekend, you’re not enjoying your time still trying to recover from last night’s hangover.

You were on the verge of doing something very stupid when alcohol was at its peak in your entire system, but you got lucky, and realized this morning that thankfully nothing happened.

The exact second you open your eyes the next morning you feel instant regret, you want way overboard with drinking to the point of actually falling asleep still in your dress on your couch. Immense pounding headache makes you close your eyes again and frown, you’re extremely sweaty and you need to shower like right now.

You do remember something happening the night before but you can’t pin-point it. It’s something that had to do with Taehyung, but you’re not quite sure what it was. Good god, why is the sun so bright, what time is it?

Your head snaps quickly to your surroundings trying to locate your phone, your neck is stiff from the long sleep on the couch and your back hurts like hell. You end up finding your poor phone thrown down on the floor, and it seems like it spent the night laying there.

Your sore joints don’t help when you stretch your arm over to grab your phone and unlock it, you looked so miserable this morning to the point of face ID barely recognizing you, you have to rub your eyes before looking back onto your screen and finally unlocking it.

And it unlocks straight into a post you wrote the night before and you instantly rewind the tape from last night and what exactly happened. You know you do stupid shit when you’re drunk heavy so it was a little expected for you to do such thing, luckily when you clicked share last night you still had to select an option on where to post the media you selected, you had to choose a platform to post onto.

You let out a breath of relief when you finally make sure that none of the media you selected was posted, you delete the entire post and lock your phone again before getting into the shower and proceeding with your usual morning routine.

“Jungkook? What are you doing here?” You’re standing near your doorstep in utter confusion, you started questioning yourself on when did he figure out your address? But then your call that he drove you here once.

You’re still oblivious over the reason why he suddenly showed up on a Saturday morning. “Can I come in?” A heartwarming smile sits over his face, you invite him in and close the door behind him. “What’s up?” He takes a seat onto your couch.

“Not much, is there anything wrong? Are you okay?” You take a seat on the same couch only a couple seats away from him. “I was driving nearby, I figured I’d come over maybe we could have a chat.”

“Couldn’t this chat wait until Monday?” You ask, and he pauses to look at you feeling a little unwelcomed in your place, which makes you laugh nervously and scratch your temple. “I didn’t want it to sound like that, would you like a drink?”

He shrugs it off right away and answers. “Just water please.”

And as soon as you turn your back and head to your kitchen, Jungkook looks around the place scanning every single corner, memorizing the details around your place just like he was taught, he even gets up onto his feet and walks towards the console under your TV to search into the three drawers.

“Stay out of this Jungkook.” He’s about to leave the room before he gets pulled back by the wrist, “No I can’t stay out of this, just so you know, your stupid kink can not only ruin your career, it could ruin mine too, and I can’t sacrifice everything I worked hard for this past decade just so you could have your own fun.”

Taehyung has his own selective hearing and fully decides on not listening. “Look, you know I want the best for you right?” Jungkook asks which makes Taehyung pay a little attention.

“Yes, and?”

“I’d say you keep your distance from Y/N specifically, she’s after you. And I’m afraid if you’re not careful enough she might just… tell someone, or make a scene, and you don’t want that do you?” The younger genuinely cares about his friend, he’s even frustrated when Taehyung scoffs and immediately argues. “Trust me she won’t. she can’t prove anything. Besides.. I can’t post anything you know that, I’d be harming myself before I harm her, and honestly I could care less about her.”

“We kind of had a chat the other day , I’m pretty sure she said she has something that could possibly ruin your career, I don’t know what exactly, but she does. And I need you to be careful because she’s onto something.”

Taehyung drives Jungkook frustrated when he grabs Jungkook’s arm away from his own wrist and mutters. “Stay out of this Jungkook, I know what I’m doing.”

“Except you’re not.” Jungkook interrupts him right away. “I never thought I would say this, but I’m willing to testify against you if she decides to post anything, Hyung, I thought I’d choose you over her, but now I’d choose my career over you.”

Finally something manages to mess up Taehyung’s mind, Jungkook’s words finally knocked sense into him, “And Taehyung, if anything happens, you’re on your own.” He’s about to leave, but this time he’s the one being pulled by the wrist. “Jungkook wait.”

And the youngest turns towards Taehyung with a knot formed between his brows, “Jungkook tell me what should I do?”

And apparently, this is why Jungkook showed up to your place uninvited just so he can start his so called plan with Taehyung. Jungkook panics and gets back to his seat right away when he hears your footsteps coming back to the living room, he’s never done anything like this before and he’s nervous himself, worried that he’d get caught by you.

“Here you go.” You hand him a glass filled with water and he takes a sip to calm his pounding heart down, “I’m sorry I showed up uninvited, but I figured we could talk and probably help each other out.”

“Help each other?” You get back to your seat, he nods and puts the glass down. “I’ve been thinking about this whole thing with Taehyung, and I just wanted you to know that I’m fully on your side no matter what. He’s been doing this for so long to so many girls and it can’t be right.”

This by the way is totally against Jungkook’s principles, but fuck his principles right now he’s going to try and save his career that could vanish right after Taehyung’s.

“Look I tried so hard to talk him out of it, but he’s really determined to do it, so I figured I’d talk to you, maybe find out what you have against him, we could try and figure out something that could save us both.” He gets closer to your seat before his hand lands onto your knee. “I care about you Y/N.”

The problem is that he sounds genuine to you at this moment, he’s worried over himself and his own career so this is his last minute decision to try and save it. “Thank you, Jungkook.” A faint smile sits on your face and you put your hand over his. “I have what it takes to end this man, you shouldn’t be worried.”

You feel the physical tension when he suddenly moves even closer and tugs your hair behind your ear before he whispers. “I trust you, Y/N, but we have to work together, and I want you to trust me too.”

“Just leave it to me Jungkook—“ And before you even finish he interrupts. “Shh, I know you can do this whole thing, but Y/N, I can help you keep your job.” He ends up pressing a kiss onto the warm skin of your neck right above your pulse, “Look we don’t have to decide anything right now, you seem a little tense and tired, maybe I can help you relax a bit.”

“I’m okay, I just..” You release a breath when he starts rubbing your shoulders and neck, making your eyes almost shut close. “.. I fell asleep on the couch last night.”

He gasps and clicks his tongue. “You shouldn’t have, that’s why your neck feels all tense.” He climbs up on the couch and wedges himself in between your back and the back of the couch, making you sit between his legs, he collects your hair away from your neck and pulls it to the side. “I was just thinking, that maybe you hand me what you have against him, maybe I could show it to someone without having to post it.”

“Taehyung wanted to post it, maybe we could grant his wish.” Your tongue feels heavy as you speak when he keeps rubbing all your knots, and right after rubbing each one he presses a kiss onto your skin. “Don’t just give him what he wants on a silver platter.” He argues, running his fingers down your covered back, “How did you manage to get your evidence?”

His fingers trace your spine and stop right by the hook of your bra, he leans his chin onto your shoulder and you can feel his breath right by your neck which sends goosebumps all over your body. “I got access to his folders when we spent our last night together.”

“On his iPad?” And you nod right away, he feigns a little giggle before he presses another soft kiss onto your neck, one of his hands running down your thigh. “Gosh have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

This feels a little forbidden to you specially after all you’ve been through with Taehyung, you’re aware that you shouldn’t repeat your mistakes. “Thank you.” You’re about to get up from your seat but he wraps his arms around you and buries his face into your neck. “No please stay.”

“Jungkook this doesn’t feel right.” You whisper as if you’re worried someone might hear you. “I’ve been thinking about you ever since we spent that night together, I kept thinking how much I’d like to have you just for myself.”

And in one quick movement he slides his hand into your shorts and panties to run it over your cunt, ever so gently rubbing your sensitive bud while kissing your shoulder and whispering. “I dreamt about how this cunt would wrap around my dick and take it so well.”

You tried resisting letting out any noise but your body seems to give in even when this feels absolutely wrong, Jungkook has a different touch than Taehyung, his is more gentle and softer, and he could easily give any girl the placebo effect that he adores her even when he’s just touching her to prep her for what’s coming next, while Taehyung was more explicit, his touch was tougher and stronger onto your skin.

“So is it on your phone?”

Something smells fishy to you at this exact second, you open your eyes and clear your throat, it takes you a second to answer. “No, it’s on one of his cameras.”

“So you have it?” He asks.

Could he possibly be here just to set you up? Hundreds of thoughts are all up in your head when you’re trying to figure out what’s the matter, Jungkook isn’t like Taehyung, he can’t be.

You can easily test the theory you have in your head, you’ve already copied the file on your phone so you can easily hand him the camera and still you’ll be one step ahead of him.

“Yeah, but I trust you Kook, you know that right.” You turn your head to look at him and your noses hit, you’re about to pull back but he pulls you in and dares to steal a quick peck from your lips. “You can trust me.”

He notices how different your body language suddenly got which makes him force a laugh. “Friends kiss like all the time, and we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Yeah sure.” You get up and rush inside your bedroom, Jungkook quickly takes his phone out and sends a voice message to someone, you figure it’s Taehyung when Jungkook speaks. “Consider it done.”

Of course.

Taehyung never had to think and list his priorities regarding this because it basically never backfired, his brain doesn’t function like other people and he’s extremely selfish, he’s willing to do anything just to save himself even if he had to hurt someone. You’re basically a threat to him right now.

He recalls what Jungkook sent him an hour ago, consider it done? Which means you really have something that could ruin his career? Like what? He doesn’t recall you taking any pictures or having any of the clips he filmed, Fuck, Taehyung. Think.

He throws himself down on the nearest chair and buries his face into his palms, the man has an excellent memory, so he tries to recall the nights you two were together, you could’ve possible hid your phone behind something like he does, or you could’ve stolen the date on his iPad or perhaps one of the cameras.

The cameras, his bag of cameras is in the building hidden in one of the lockers, he rushes up from his seat and takes the elevator up to the lockers. And after looking around left and right making sure he’s not spotted by anyone, he fishes out his keychain and unlocks the metal doors of the locker, he takes out the handbag and when the bag keeps being shuffled in his hand, the cameras are clearly heard being mixed into each other.

He puts it down onto the floor and gets onto his knees, how can he make sure that all the cameras are in there when he doesn’t know how many he has in the first place? But this doesn’t stop him, when it comes to his own benefit he’s willing to do anything, he could try and dig out for the receipts when he bought them but this goes back to years ago, and he uses his cards all the time so it was nearly impossible to find the receipts.

Okay scratch that. He shakes his own head and proceeds to count the cameras, he opens each and every one of the cameras and he finally realizes, that the content from the other night you two spent together doesn’t exist on any of the cameras.

And that night he recalls pressing the record button after his stupid mistake he made when he spent the night with Jungkook and you, plus he was sober. Could you possibly have one of the cameras?

“Hyung, I got the camera.” Jungkook barges in to the locker room with a tiny go pro sitting in his hand, and finally Taehyung feels a little relieved, totally oblivious that you were able to copy the folders more than once.

“Thank fucking god.” He releases a sigh and grabs the camera from Jungkook and opens it, the folders are still there which makes him a little too sure that you’re no longer able to do anything.

“Please use it wisely, and don’t fuck things up.” The youngest is relieved as well and he leaves the locker room knowing that he’s safe too. Taehyung turns the camera off and shoves it back into the handbag and locks it inside.

Monday morning felt so off for you, you woke feeling nauseated and exhausted, you barely got any sleep the night before and you feel like you’ve reached your dead end. Things can’t get worse than they actually are.

You’re going to try talking to Taehyung like the adult you are for one last time, hoping that he’d go sane or perhaps understand and change his mind, well practically you weren’t too hopeful but of course you’re willing to give it a try.

“Morning!” It makes you flinch at how cheered up Jungkook sounds, you scoff on the inside and fake a smile behind your face mask. “Morning.”

“How are you today?” He puts his bag down and takes his seat. “I’m doing pretty well thanks for asking.” And you walk past him to your destination, mumbling under your mask. “Fucking hypocrite.”

You actually thought this man could be different, but he’s just like his friend, willing to drown anyone just so he can survive.

You reach the makeup station and you roll your eyes when you see Taehyung already seated, they were pre recording something today so you rush yourself and get to work. “Good morning.” He looks at you through the mirror and you answer right away. “Taehyung we need to talk.”

Even when it’s the beginning of the week, the styling room was empty only him and you left alone inside, you had to have a chat with him, he’s a little taken back to see you behaving agitatedly when it’s still morning time, but he can easily guess what you’re about to say.

“Alright.” Taehyung gets up from his chair and closes the door shut before moving back to his seat “What’s up? Why are you being all weird?”

“We need to talk.” Your worried expressions don’t even trigger his fight or flight and he couldn’t care less on why you look so agitated. “Yeah, you stated that earlier, what do you want?”

“I think we should both go on separate ways, we both have a career we should focus on and I think it’s not worth losing it for the stupid thing we did, we both can’t lose what we worked hard on. Now I know you’re not going to post anything and neither will i—“

He high key rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “Y/N, sweetheart, If anyone is going to lose anything then it’s going to be you, I can’t lose anything. Look, I don’t know why it seems so difficult for you to understand, but you just have to do what I say, and when I call you to spend the night you just come over and that’s it. Doesn’t sound too hard does it? We can make each other feel good.” He makes it sound so easy, but what he doesn’t know is how your self worth is long gone when you’re left on the floor in the middle of his hotel room all soiled and sore and worn out, he doesn’t understand what it feels like to be actually called by him and having to be there because you were forced, just to have him pleased and satisfied, it never mattered to him how you felt, he only thought about himself the entire time.

You too agreed it was sex only and this is a sealed deal, but every time he kissed you and made you feel good, it was his twisted way of making himself feel good, every time he fucked you or went down on you, it was just for himself, he felt good doing it, it didn’t matter how you felt. And even if he eventually found out you faked a performance the last time it wouldn’t probably matter to him, at least it made him feel good and he was left satisfied.

“No.” You give him a solid answer. “Don’t expect anything from me anymore, I’m not willing to give you what you need and I believe you already know other people who can give you the exact same thing, but I can’t anymore.”

“I’m quite sure I already told you, your family and coworkers won’t be happy when they see the clip—“

“Save it Tae, I’m not scared,” You cross your arms too. “Whatever happened between us was a stupid mistake. I wish you can really see how I feel about you, because Taehyung, really, I pity you, and I think you truly need help, there’s nothing half appealing about you anymore, actually it’s the exact opposite, to me you’re someone that being with was just a waste of time, and honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed my time when I’m with you.”

It hurts his ego for you to tell him this even when he tries to deny it in his head that you mean it, he thinks you’re just saying this to piss him off and just belittle him. He grits his teeth again and you can see his temples growing bigger with each time his jaw tightens, he tilts his head before squinting his eyes. “I know you’re just doing this out of spite, but I don’t have to remind you and show you the video where you literally begged me to fuck you.”

“Again Tae, save it really, I’m watching every move you make, and if you’re going to post the videos just do it, I don’t care anymore, but I want you to know that I’ll always be one step ahead of you.”

When normal people feel threatened they’d actually do something to protect themselves even if they had to fake an entire brave persona when they could nearly shit their pants, and that was the normal behavior for someone like you, but Taehyung’s career is jeopardized right before his eyes and he’s standing still with a straight face not even blinking, totally careless about everything you’re saying.

It doesn’t take you twenty minutes to finish working on his face, it felt like twenty hours with all the tension in the room, and whenever someone walks in they’d either question on why the door was closed on you two, or questioning what’s wrong when they can easily sense the electrocuted atmosphere in the tiny room.

Once you’re over you and Taehyung get back to the practice room to start filming whatever they had to film and you take a seat, you clearly see Taehyung and Jungkook talking in the corner and you know it’s about you when Jungkook tries to avoid looking into your eyes.

“Did you give him the camera?” Your voice rings across the practice room, you stand behind them, Jungkook crossing his arms and facing you fully.

“Who do you think you are?” Taehyung gets defensive as he walks towards you with a smirk on his face, “I knew about the camera all along, Y/N, I’m not that stupid, I know that you stole it.”

You have nothing to lose anymore so you giggle and nod. “Mhm, yeah, I’m pretty sure your friend retrieved it back for you.”

“I’ll give it back and you can consider this a gift, you can keep it, and to prove to you that I’m not afraid, I’m willing to show your videos to everyone.” He takes another step closer, his scent that you personally find repelling is wafting up your nose. “Let them see how much of a great performer you are.”

“Maybe they can see their favorite idol performing too.” You challenge him. After all you still don’t want anything to be posted for your own sake too. “I’ve got nothing to lose Taehyung, but you have everything to lose.”

And in a blink of an eye, the sore loser closes the space between you two and grabs you by the wrist tightly right in front of everyone, and with his tightened jaw and reddening face he whispers. “You have nothing to prove sweetheart, and you’re wrong. I’ll always be one step ahead of you.”

“Taehyung stop.” Jungkook stands between you two and tries his best to push his friend away, but the firm grip was really tight around your wrist to the point of hurting you. “Get away from me.”

“Y/N, you don’t have to do this.” Jungkook who’s shielding you looks behind his shoulder. “Let us discuss this like adults.”

“Oh fuck off you’re no different than him.” You glare at Jungkook still trying to escape Taehyung’s grip.

Taehyung isn’t doing his best right now and his brain was completely fogged by hatred, he’s now positive you’re hiding other things from him and he’s getting furious by the second, he’s getting the taste of his own medicine.

Around the practice room there were several people who are now watching Taehyung’s behavior that they’re not so familiar with. “Prove it, show me what you have against me.” And his grip is getting tighter and he’s being louder than before.

“Taehyung stop.” Jungkook seems embarrassed by Taehyung’s behavior.

They’re usually so secretive about their personal lives and their staff aren’t used to seeing them being like this, they always tried so hard to isolate their lives and their personal problems but right now it’s a show for everyone to see.

Your heart races and through the rush of adrenaline you pull your phone out of your pocket and unlock it. “Looks like you are afraid after all.”

“I’ll fucking end you, Y/N.”

“Not before I end you, Kim Taehyung.” And finally you click post.

“Y/N, don’t—“ Jungkook tries and his attempt ends up failing.

The entire media is finally out for everyone to see, this is your only way to get your revenge at him.

People can now see how Taehyung degrades women in bed and humiliates them using his sick and twisted ways, they can finally see the true man he is. And not only you published the clips you had in your hand, you also managed to dig into the folders of your phone and find the nudes he sent you back during the tour, and it’s quite obvious that it’s him, It’s Kim Taehyung in the photos and in the videos.

Taehyung never saw this coming, he always thought he had control, he never imagined that he’d taste his own medicine this way. Not only did you show people his true personality, you managed to do something to the career he never thought he could damage or even lose.

Around the practice room the atmosphere was quite tense and stressed, but around the building people were going insane, continuous calls and paper work trying to do anything to hide this or even deny it, the headquarters are in shock knowing that the idol they trained and known since he was a young kid grew up to be this kind of person. They gave him everything he wanted, why in hell is this happening?

The social media has gone crazy and people are reposting and the post has now gone viral to everyone, it sucks that even with evidence people seem to still defend him, people are still trying hard to prove that this isn’t their idol, this can’t be their idol, but it is.

The image he painted for his fans is ruined by every second longer your post stays up, and frankly there’s not an ounce of regret inside you, this person deserves it, goodness he even deserves worse.

Back in the practice room it’s as if time froze, everyone’s phones started beeping and buzzing texts and calling, and monotonously they all pick up their phones and manage to read the news, whether it’s emails or even relatives asking if it was true? Some even having their families calling to tell them to get away and quit their jobs.

Girls around the practice room who’ve been in your place somehow feel relieved that it’s not only them, the man they despised finally got the end he deserved.

“You should’ve thought about this before you started it Taehyung.” You try to escape his grip but it only tightens, you look him up in the eyes and he dares to smirk even when his career is almost over. “Don’t come crying later, Y/N.” And he finally takes his hands off of you to leave the practice room, you look around the practice room to see everyone watching you with terrified faces.

You convince yourself that you shouldn’t panic, but you’re slowly starting to, it’s quite a fine line between regret and panic right now and you can’t identify which one is it.

“You must have lost your mind.” Jungkook finally faces you. “You shouldn’t have done this.”

“Oh how I wish the night I spent with you was caught on camera, I would’ve ended you in fucking seconds Jeon Jungkook.” Your chest is heaving and your heart is pounding, it feels like you were running for miles, and as much as you tried having respect and self control to not slap him in the face, you couldn’t. “Just fuck off Jungkook, turns out you’re exactly like him.” His eyes meet yours for one last time before he turns his back and leaves the practice room.

“What have you done, Y/N?” Mira asks, you clear your throat and try to talk but nothing seems to be able to escape your mouth, you’re sweating and stuttering hoping you’d come up with some sort of sentence but zero.

You knew it could backfire to you but you never thought how it would, you’re practically alone in Seoul and you have no one to stand with you, it’s basically you, against Taehyung and the entire world. Even the girls who were hurt by him, they never thought it would get serious, and most of them are now worried, what if the videos they were in got published? They’d be in trouble too.

You’re having second thoughts, you probably should’ve given up and just let him do whatever he wants, maybe you shouldn’t have sought for revenge, But he wronged you, of course you have to seek for revenge, he deserves it.

Fuck, you’re looking around, the girls are no longer satisfied with what you did, they look like they hold grudge against you now, but you practically helped them.

Could you possibly be the only one wrong? Could they be right? It’s getting complicated by the second.

“Y/n?” Their manager enters the practice room and you hold your breath, you can feel your heart beating against your back and pounding into your chest. “They want you upstairs.”

It’s been almost four hours around the meeting table and you’ve never seen anything like this, it’s too much paperwork for you and people are talking endlessly, you’re too lost to keep track of what they’re saying, but it seems like they’re talking about lawyers and lawsuits.

Even when you can barely process what they’re saying, still you were able to “try” and defend yourself, but they did end up taking down the post.

Your train of thoughts is interrupted by a stack of papers landing in front of you. “Sign those.”

“What’s that?”

“Your resignation papers. You no longer work here.”

“But he deserves to be punished too, I was forced to sleep him just like the other girls were forced too.” you try to deny but it’s a lost cause at this point. They were all seeking for his protection, after all he matters way more than you do.

“Just sign it Y/N.” They hand you a pen and you end up signing anyway. Apparently this is your only way to end everything, this blackmail was the worst thing that ever happened to you, but even when it costs your job, you still were able to show Taehyung’s true colors to the world.

It’s getting suffocating around the meeting room so you rush things to get over with and just leave, the world feels so small around you and you’ve never felt like this, it sucks big time that the career you actually imagined staying in is now completely over. You can’t deny that you wish none of this happened, you regret it a little now.

You collect your bag and leave the meeting room, you have so many things around the building that you need to collect that belong to you so you rush upstairs to the dressing rooms and pack your stuff, and you can’t not notice every set of eyes that’s been watching you pack quietly for the next 20 minutes, it does make you tense a little so you look up to meet their eyes. “I know what you’re all thinking.”

You’re looked at in pure pity and it hurts to your core, the other week people respected you and enjoyed your company but today they’re all afraid to even talk, it hurts that the girls you enjoyed working with stare at you like that which makes you sulk. “I did this all for you, for us, I did what you girls never dared to do.”

You sigh when they turn their heads away and move on with their day and you finish collecting your stuff, it’s all over now.

Right when you’re about to turn and leave the dressing room, you feel a hand wrapping around your wrist so you turn to see Luna, who’s looking at you with the same look of pity, her mouth slightly opens before she sighs in frustration. “You shouldn’t have done it.”

“Luna I—“

“Before you say anything, have you seen the media?”

“Yeah, I know, and I did it on purpose, he was after all of us.” You argue, she tilts her head and argues back. “What are you talking about? It’s all denied, Taehyung is innocent.” You feel your eyelids getting heavier, and it feels like someone dumped a bucket of cold water all over your shoulders and back.

You’re in denial that your entire body stops functioning, your head is shaking left and right subconsciously. “No.”

But she was right.

You lost your job for nothing, and honestly what were you expecting? Kim Taehyung is considered an international icon, of course they’d think you’re making rumors. Once your post was published it was taken down in less than ten minutes, and if you even bothered to pick up your phone and scroll through the media, it’s like nothing happened.

People are totally unbothered and it drives you insane, no one even reposted anything or tried to look through the evidence you posted, they’re all on his side even if they saw everything right before their eyes.

“I’m sorry Y/N, you should’ve thought this through.” It’s the same look of pity on her face. “He’s Kim Taehyung, he has people for everything.”

You had to wait a couple of minutes by the elevator door hoping that it’d stop any time soon, the box you were carrying was extremely heavy, you feel your arms and fingers cramping and you’re no longer able to hold the box, your body is barely able to hold its own weight so you cannot wait to get home.

Just when the elevator doors open and you step in you drop the box and all your stuff splatter on the floor, you fall onto your knees and begin collecting your stuff back onto the box, the elevator doors got too impatient and they immediately closed and you forgot to press the button to the ground floor, and you don’t realize that until you’re half way through the box and it feels like the elevator is not moving.

You’re about to get up onto your feet to click the button but the doors open on their own, and fucking Kim Taehyung enters the elevator. He’s the last person you’d want to see right now.

The first couple of seconds are completely silent but you can feel his eyes on you when he sees you down onto your knees, he puts his hands into his pockets and clicks the button down to the parking lot before the elevator doors close again.

He laughs quietly and watches you for a second before deciding to spit out words that remind you that you shouldn’t feel guilty at all. “Didn’t expect to see on your knees this soon.”

You brace yourself and bite your own tongue to avoid talking back to him because really you’re seconds away from beating him up.

“You know Y/N, I really admire how brave you are.” He starts and you roll your eyes, collecting the last few items and putting them into the box, before getting back up onto your feet. “I know you don’t believe me but I truly do.”

You look up hoping the numbers would go down faster because you can’t tolerate a second longer with him. “You know what’s the difference between you and me?”

This time he turns to face you and takes a step closer, tugging your hair behind your ear and inhaling your scent for the last time. “You and I are both sluts, but the only thing different between me and you is that I have someone to cover up for me and clean up shit after me, and you don’t.”

You turn and finally face him again with denial, he can’t be a true human being with a heart, you’ve never seen someone like this man, you had a little faith in him that he might actually be nice after all, you thought he’d been taught a lesson after all this that happened but no, he’s both careless and heartless it shocks you.

“You thought you’d win, I feel kinda bad for you.” He sighs, “I warned you, I’ll always be one step ahead of you Y/N.”

This is Kim Taehyung.

The one you met years ago no longer exists, the new whole different version of him now exists and he feels like a fucking epidemic. And even when you lost your job, and the future you had planned for is now long gone too, at least you’re no longer around him.

And even when you couldn’t make justice with your story, someone else will and they’ll get him eventually.

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