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theemporium · 3 months

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[5k] luke hughes swore he would never tell another soul and take his confession to the grave. that ends as an epic fail as he tells a really pretty girl his most embarrassing secret. luckily for him, she seems pretty eager to help him out.

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It shouldn’t be embarrassing, but it was. It really fucking was.

It wasn’t always a big deal. When he was in high school, everybody was just like him. Or at least, most people were. HIs friend group were. And they would always talk about how fun college would be, how everything would change, how everyone grew up and just did it.

And then he went to college and nothing really changed. It was a bit embarrassing, it made his cheeks burn bright red whenever he spoke about it. But it also wasn’t the most unbelievable thing. Between keeping his GPA up, his training regime and the countless games during the season, it wasn’t shocking to anyone that he didn’t have as much free time as movies liked to make it seem like.

But then he moved up. He went from being a kid with a dream to actually living that dream and beyond. A joke from his childhood became a reality when he found himself on the ice with his older brother, wearing the same jersey as his older brother. Suddenly, it was all real and intense and he was in it properly.

But, fuck, it was embarrassing that he was in the National Hockey League and he was a fucking virgin.

In theory, he knew it wasn’t a big deal. It didn’t change the way he played or his performance on the ice. It didn’t affect his professional life in any way, shape or form. But it still made him want to curl up in a corner and shrivel his existence away whenever he thought about it too long.

And it wasn’t like it was obvious. He wasn’t announcing it to the world and rambling on about it in interviews. But the amount of jokes people made about women throwing themselves at his feet or having a turnstile of people in his bed felt like he might as well be.

The awkward laughs and strained smiles would only take him so far before someone caught on.

And that might have been the worst part—the fact that nobody knew. Not his friends in high school nor the ones he made in college. None of his teammates. Not even his brothers (though, the idea of him even telling them whether or not he was a virgin was an experience he would like to avoid all together).

Nobody in the fucking world knew Luke Hughes was a virgin except him and, in a weird way, it was kind of fucking lonely.

Or at least, nobody else knew until he met you.

…

The night he met you had been a few days after the Devils had been kicked out of the playoffs.

Despite the loss, Nico wanted one last team celebration to sign off a good season. Because yes, it fucking sucked that they were knocked out and it sucked they wouldn’t be the ones to lift the Stanley Cup this year. But they still played well, they deserved to appreciate that, to appreciate each other.

And, on a more personal level, it was a chance to celebrate with the NHL team he could now call his home.

He was in the big leagues now. He was in the NHL and he was a professional hockey player and, by the power of some fucking superior being he did not know, he was lucky enough to share a team with at least one of his brothers.

It still felt like a dream.

And with that dream came the joys and perks of being a New Jersey Devil—like not being ID’d in the bar the team commonly visited.

“Takin’ it all in?”

He tore his eyes away from the surrounding bar to look at his brother, perched on the edge of the pool table Nathan and Kevin were currently competing on. He had been happy to just watch, observe—for lack of better terms—take it all in, like Jack assumed.

Instead, he just retorted with, “it’s a bar. Not much to take in that I haven’t seen before.”

“Okay, college boy,” Jack snorted, his cheeks flushed the same shade of red as the vodka cranberries he had been drinking all night. “I meant the big leagues.”

Luke resisted the urge to snort. “Ask me again in a year when it’s actually sunk in.”

Something in Jack’s face softened. “I’m glad you’re here, Moose.”

His throat felt a little tight but he still smiled. “Me too.”

He had assumed that was the end of the conversation, but that was Luke’s first mistake. He hadn’t paid much attention to the way Jack’s eyes roamed around the bar, narrowed like he was looking for something or, in this case, someone.

“What do ya think about her?”

Luke blinked, looking at his brother with a confused glance before he followed his line of vision to some blonde settled against the wall on the other side of the bar.

“What about her?”

Jack shot him a look. “Do you think she’s pretty?”

Luke hesitated, almost as though it was a trick question. “Yes?”

Jack’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t sound convinced,” he commented. “So, blonde isn’t your type. What is then? Brunettes? Redheads? Miscellaneous?”

“No, I—” Luke frowned. “I’m surprised you even know what miscellaneous means.”

Jack punched his arm in response.

“Why are you asking about my type?” Luke questioned, something that felt a lot like uncertainty bubbling in his stomach.

Jack let out a deep sigh, prolonging it to properly encapture his annoyance. “I’m trying to help you get laid, bud.”

Luke froze.

There was no way Jack could know. He knew that. He did. Logically, it was impossible for his brother to know he was a virgin when Luke had genuinely never admitted as much beyond the age of seventeen. But here he is, seemingly trying to find him someone to sleep with. There was no way he could know, there was no way Jack knew—

“I mean, you’re in the fucking league now, bud. Milk it a little, have some fun!” Jack continued, lost in his own rambles to even notice the way Luke’s shoulders sagged with relief. “I’m sure college was fun and all, but this is better!”

Luke tried to let out a laugh. “I think I’m alright for tonight.”

Jack huffed out in annoyance. “Don’t be a bore! Luke, you’re in the NHL. You just fucking played in the playoffs! Enjoy yourself, man.”

“I am enjoying myself,” Luke countered.

“You’ve been drinking the same beer since we got here,” Jack snapped back with a knowing look. “And I know it tastes like shit because I did the exact same thing when I first ordered a drink here. I’m trying to be your guru, help you avoid the mistakes I made.”

“My guru,” Luke repeated with a snort. “More like an unwanted Cupid.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “C’mon—”

“Focus on yourself.”

“It’s my duty as a brother—”

“I am not staying to listen to this,” Luke grumbled, batting away his brother’s hands as he began to make his way to the bar. As much as he hated to admit it, Jack was right—this beer tasted horrible and not even the tiny sips he had been taking were going to save it.

He settled himself on a free spot at the bar, his elbows placed on the slightly sticky countertop as he peered over to try find a bartender. He saw a few on the other side of the bar finishing off a few drinks and accepted the small wait, a little lost in his own thoughts and whether he wanted to try another drink instead of just settling for something non-alcoholic when a hand settled on his back.

“There you are, babe!”

Luke frowned, turning around to find you staring right back at him with a grin on your face. Honestly, he was expecting to turn around and let the person realise they had made a mistake. But your smile remained on your face, though the wide eyes staring back at him were a little distressing.

“Uh, I think you—” But he was cut off by another voice, a much deeper one this time.

“This is your boyfriend?”

The man was average height and fairly built, but that was all he had going for him. His shirt was definitely a size too small to make him look bigger and the chunky chain looked nothing short of tacky. And Luke may have been in his presence for less than thirty seconds, but the body spray was overwhelming and pungent and made him want to plug his nose.

Now, Luke may be a little slow but he isn’t dumb.

He may be deeply confused by the sudden promotion to boyfriend from a stranger but it didn’t take long for Luke to realise the wide, distressing eyes were a cry for help and the walking embodiment of Axe body spray in a tight shirt was the reason.

“Uh, yeah!” Luke cleared his throat a little, his arm moving to wrap around your shoulders in the least awkward way he could possibly achieve. “She’s my girl! Uh, girlfriend! She’s my—” His cheeks burned but he couldn’t stop his mouth from moving. “She’s my babe!”

The man glanced between you and Luke for a few moments before rolling his eyes, muttering something under his breath about wasting his time before he disappeared into the throng of people crowded by the bar.

“What a dick,” you murmured and it almost made Luke jump when he remembered you were still beside him, that his arm was still around your shoulders. You turned around to look at him once you knew the other guy was gone, and your smile seemed softer now. “Thank you for that, really. You’re a lifesaver.”

“It’s no biggie,” Luke replied, cringing a little before he quickly continued. “Thanks for giving me the honour of being your fake boyfriend.”

You snorted. “Yeah, well, you have a friendly face. You looked like you would go along with it.”

His cheeks burned warmer. “Thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” you grinned before turning to settle in the spot next to him, fingers tapping on the bar counter. “Let me buy you a drink to thank you for your services?”

Luke began shaking his head. “That really isn’t necessary—”

“Please,” you insisted, a softer expression on your face. “It would make me feel better for dragging you into my scheme.”

“I—” He cleared his throat, hoping to some superior being that his face wasn’t as red as it felt. “O-Okay.”

Your grin widened. “Brilliant. What do you want?”

“A Coke.”

“Really?”

“Yes?”

“Okay, no judgement, just surprised,” you said, leaning over the bar to place your drink order along with his before you turned back to the boy. “So, do I at least get to know my fake boyfriend’s name?”

HIs lips twitched upwards. “Luke.”

“Luke,” you repeated before telling him your name, something gleaming in your eyes when you did. “So, Luke, what brings you to a bar on a Monday night to drink Coke?”

“I’m here with some work friends,” he lied easily, not really one to play the professional hockey player card (despite Trevor’s insistence that it was expected to be used for this reason exactly). “Just enjoying the night before we all head off for the summer.”

“Hm, here with your work buddies but staying sober and standing alone at a bar,” you mused. “You’re quite intriguing, Luke.”

“I think that’s a compliment,” he murmured with a frown.

“It is,” you assured him with a smile.

Luke opened his mouth to say something before the familiar voice of his brother reached him.

“LUKEY BOY IS GETTING SOME!”

He shut his eyes, muttering a list of curses under his breath before he finally looked at you with a sheepish expression. “I’m so sorry about him. Just ignore him, he’s a little drunk and—”

“Hey, it’s fine,” you assured him with a laugh. “Work buddy?”

“Mhm,” Luke confirmed with a nod. “And my older brother.”

“That sounds like an intense work environment,” you commented.

“Tell me about it,” he grumbled, but there was still a smile on his face. “I wouldn’t blame you for making a run for it now while you have the chance. Jack will only get worse.”

You waved him off, smiling. “Your brother isn’t scaring me off,” you assured him. “Plus, I said I was intrigued and I’m enjoying talking to you. Makes it seem a lot more believable that you’re my boyfriend if that other dude is lingering around.”

“Yeah, totally,” Luke agreed, something warm bursting in his stomach at the fact you wanted to keep talking to him.

And despite what Jack and the others assume, nothing more happened between the two of you than just talking. It was bittersweet, in a way. Because Luke really enjoyed talking to you that night, even if he knew he would probably never see you again.

But it was nice and it replayed in his head a lot more than he cared to admit that summer.

…

He assumed it was guaranteed that he would never see you again.

So, it was pretty shocking when he did, in fact, see you again at a house party held by one of the boys of all fucking places in the pre-season.

As the new season approached and the overwhelming realisation that he was about to enter his rookie season of the NHL hit him, Luke didn’t even hesitate to accept the invitation for the ‘small get together’ with the boys. These were his teammates, these were the people he was going to have to trust and navigate on the ice with. It seemed like a nice idea to have a few chilled hangouts whilst training dragged everyone back to New Jersey.

What Jack and everyone else had failed to mention was the fact a ‘small get together’ did not just mean the team like he assumed. It meant a house full of people that Luke certainly didn’t know or recognise, but seemed to know exactly who he was.

He was only slightly ashamed to admit that he clung onto Jack’s side as long as he could. But his brother was a social butterfly who liked to jump between different crowds and it was too much for Luke. Instead, he had settled near a couch where John and Kevin had been rambling away to each other when Jack suddenly appeared—out of thin air—with a huge grin on his face.

“Hey, Rusty, is that not your girl from the bar?”

Luke’s brows furrowed together in confusion. “Huh?”

But Jack didn’t say much, just nudging his little brother to look over his shoulder. His lips parted again, prepared to tell Jack that he was drunker than he expected him to be after a few beers, only to find the words stuck in the back of his throat when he turned around and saw you.

He had thought about you more than he cared to admit over the summer. Just random little flashes of the conversations you shared. It was stupid, and a little pathetic, but you just felt…different—in the least cliche way possible.

It was almost embarrassing how quickly his cheeks just heated at the sight of you.

No, correction: it was really fucking embarrassing.

“Aw, did Lukey invite his lil’ crush?” Jack teased, reaching out to mockingly pinch his cheeks but Luke batted his hand away just in time.

“Shut up,” he grumbled before clearing his throat, turning to faze his brother again. “I didn’t. I–I don’t even know why she is here.”

Jack shot him a look. “Go on, then.”

Luke frowned. “What?”

“You are actually clueless,” Jack grumbled under his breath before giving him a hearty shove. “Go talk to her!”

His eyes widened. “What?!”

“Go talk to her,” Jack repeated, not understanding the panic in his younger brother. “You guys were hitting it off at the bar, what’s the big deal? Maybe you can hook up with her again.”

“I—” He started before realising this was not the time to delve into the same argument they had had since the night at the bar. “It’s fine, she probably doesn’t even remember me.”

His brother scoffed. “You’re shitting me, right?”

Luke blinked. “No?”

“Dude, she was all over you!” Jack insisted, giving him another shove that had him stumbling slightly. “Go!”

Luke could feel his cheeks heating up. “Jack—”

“It’s my big brother duty to help you!”

Shove.

“Jack, fuck off. It’s not gonna happen.”

Shove.

“Yes, it will. Stop being a coward.”

Shove.

“Can you stop? I am not—”

Shove.

“Go talk to her!”

Shove.

“No—”

Except, the little shoves and lack of balance with the drinks he had been nursing through the night seemed to catch up on Luke. He stumbled back, his footing gone and his free hand reaching out to grasp Jack or something to stop him from falling. But it was too late. He was stumbling and his drink was sloshing and it went all over—

You.

It went all over you because now you were right there, right in front of him, having just walked across the room to come and see him.

“Oh shit,” Jack muttered from behind him.

You looked down at your shirt—your very white shirt that now had some atrocious red stain splattered across the front from the cocktail John had made him—and stared in shock.

Luke felt his whole body curl in on itself, his face burning and his chest feeling oddly tight. “I am so sorry—”

But, to his fucking shock (because you seemed to shock him a lot, if he was honest), you looked up at him and laughed.

“Unlucky timing, huh?” You joked but Luke didn’t feel like laughing.

“I can—” But he paused, not even sure what he was going to say.

“Liking the colour red a little too much there, Cherry!” A voice from somewhere in the crowd—Luke genuinely wasn’t sure where—called out and your face brightened.

“It’s a good thing I can pull it off!” You retorted, unfazed by the name.

Cherry.

Usually, Luke would chalk it up to his memory being fairly shit and the months that had passed since that night in the bar making him confuse your name for something else. Except, the boy had practically relived that night in his head on a constant loop. Every word. Every sentence. Every second of it.

Pathetic? Yes.

Helpful? Probably not in any way, shape or fucking form except for the fact he was certain your name was not Cherry. He was more than certain. At least, he was certain that wasn’t the name you had told him.

There were so many logical and simple reasons, he knew that deep down. But right now, Luke was embarrassed and flustered and he had this horrible inkling that you told him a fake name in case you thought he was a creep at the bar like the guy he saved you from and—

Yeah, Luke really didn’t like the idea of that. He didn’t like the idea of being paired in a category with that man. And he certainly didn’t like the idea that he made you uncomfortable enough to give him a fake name, even if he had given you no real reason to do otherwise.

Someone pushed through the crowd as Luke continued to spiral in his own thoughts, unable to even get a coherent sentence out when Nico glanced between you and him. He let out a sigh, shaking his head as he offered you an apology before he turned to Luke.

“You can show her where the bathroom is, right?”

And, fuck, he really thought this was the closest he could reach to ever feeling something close to hatred towards his captain.

Luke nodded his head, unable to get a word out and nodded towards the stairs.

You seemed to catch his hint well enough as you turned to head towards the stairs. Until your hand was reaching back, taking his in your grasp and intertwining your fingers together and Luke’s brain short circuited all over again.

“Get it, Moose!”

Jack was pretty high on that almost-hate list too.

Luke felt like his body was on autopilot as he moved towards the stairs, letting you lead him up with your hands still connected until you reached the top. You looked at him expectantly and he led you towards the bathroom—one of the larger ones because he thought he would die if he was trapped in a small, enclosed space with you after he just spilled his drink all over you.

He opened the door, flicking the light on before stepping aside and letting you head inside. Except, the world seemed to have something against him, you dragged him into the bathroom behind you, your hands still connected, and grinned at him.

“Help a girl out?”

Luke cleared his throat but nodded.

He tried not to think too hard when you eventually dropped his hand. He tried not to think too hard when you locked the bathroom door. He tried not to think too hard as you glanced at him through the mirror.

And he was doing well until you went and pulled your shirt over your head.

His eyes widened, a spluttered noise of surprise leaving his lips as his eyes instantly snapped to the ceiling. But it was useless, he could already feel his blush crawling down his neck and burning hot.

“Relax,” you laughed. “I’m not giving you the full show. Just need to get this stain out.”

“Mhm,” he hummed but his eyes remained on the ceiling.

“Luke?”

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

“Uh huh.”

You let out a hum, like you didn’t quite believe him but you didn’t seem to push further. Instead, he heard the tap turn on and the water started running and suddenly, the bigger bathroom didn’t feel big enough.

“I’m not a creep!” He blurted out.

You paused. “Is that why you are staring at the ceiling? To prove you aren’t a creep?”

“No, well—” He cut himself off and let out a deep breath. “No, I just…your friend called you Cherry down there. You gave me a different name. I just…didn’t want you to think you had to give me a fake name because I was a creep. Granted, you don’t owe me anything but I just wanted to assure you—”

“Luke?”

He swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

“I don’t think you’re a creep. And I didn’t lie about my name either,” you said, your voice a little softer this time. “People just call me Cherry.”

And for a boy who ate, lived and breathed a sport that classically gave stupid nicknames to everyone and everything, he had never felt quite this dumb.

“Oh.”

“Are you going to look at me now?”

He waited for a moment. And then another. And then, before he chickened out of it, he lowered his gaze until he met yours—and didn’t let his eyes wander any further.

“You’re an interesting boy,” you mused, tilting your head to the side.

His brows furrowed together. “Thank you?”

You grinned at his response before you turned back to the sink, seamlessly continuing to scrub your shirt under the running tap.

Luke watched you for a few moments, trying to just stew in the silence and let you do your work. But the seconds kept ticking by and the silence was becoming more stifling and there was only so much he could handle before he wanted to rip his eyes out.

“I’m sorry about my brother, by the way,” he said when he couldn’t think of anything else to say. “He’s a lil’ enthusiastic but he means no harm.”

“He seems quite desperate to get you laid,” you noted, your eyes briefly finding him in the mirror again. “A lot of your friends do.”

His cheeks burned again. “They do that with everyone. They just like to be wingmen, you know?”

Your eyes narrowed slightly on him. “But it makes you uncomfortable.”

You say it like a fact, not a question.

Luke choked a little. “Well—”

“Why not just tell them to back off?” You questioned and Luke welcomed the fresh, bitter twinge of embarrassment that washed over him.

“Because they would ask questions,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s just easier to let them mess about.”

You looked intrigued now. “Why?”

Luke shifted under the intensity of your gaze. “Because then they would ask why I didn’t want to hook up with anyone.”

You raised your brows. “Not a one-night stand kind of man?”

And honestly, he should have just cut the conversation there. He should have deflected the topic onto something else or gave some vague answer. Hell, even telling you to mind your own business was a better answer. But the alcohol made him feel buzzed, your presence was overwhelming and—for the first time in his life—Luke found himself blurting out the words he swore he would take to the grave.

“Because I’m a virgin.”

You blinked. And he fucking waited for it.

He waited for you to laugh. He waited for you to laugh and howl and cackle at his pathetic admission. To mock him, to tease him, to make him feel worse than he already felt. He waited and waited and waited.

And it never came.

“And you can’t tell them that?” You questioned.

“I, uh,” Luke shook his head, his stomach somersaulting inside him in the worst ways possible. “No, it’s a little…taboo in my line of work.”

You turned to actually look at him instead of gazing at him in the mirror. “Are you a sex worker?”

Luke spluttered, shaking his head. “What? No! No, I…I’m a hockey player.”

You frowned a little. “Hockey players can’t be virgins?”

“Well, it’s not like a set rule but like,” he paused, waving his hands around like that explained everything. But you still looked confused and Luke knew he had to keep talking. “Everyone just kinda expects hockey players to be some kind of…sex god. Or something. I don’t know. All I know is that it’s not really common to be a virgin in the league.”

“Okay,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest—where you still stood in only a bra covering yourself. “So, like, are you a virgin…by choice?”

“Oh my god,” Luke groaned, bringing his hands to cover his face before it got even more red.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way!” You assured him. “I was just curious.”

“Nobody was supposed to know,” Luke grumbled into his hands, but you seemed to understand him well enough.

“I won’t tell a soul,” you promised.

But the damage was done and Luke wanted nothing more than for the floor to open up and drag him into the depths of the Earth.

He needed to get out of this bathroom. He needed to get out and go downstairs, rush through a flurry of goodbyes to the team before he quickly escaped and headed home where he could hide his embarrassment in a large tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream that certainly wasn’t in his meal plan.

He just needed to turn around, unlock the door and slip out before you had the chance to—

“What if I helped you?”

Yeah, that was not what he expected.

His hands dropped from his face as he stared at you, his expression almost blank except for the confusion shining in his eyes. “Huh?”

“What if I helped you?” You repeated.

“Helped me with what?”

“Being a virgin,” you said with a shrug. “It seems like it’s really important to you, or something. And I think you are bigging it up in your head a little more than necessary. Maybe you just need someone to give you a helping hand, you know? Guide you through it, help you learn. No pressure, yeah?”

He blinked. “And…you would do that?”

“Yeah, why not,” you answered honestly with a shrug of your shoulders. “You intrigue me, Luke.”

“I intrigue you,” he repeated slowly, and he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“It’s not a bad thing to be intriguing.”

“It is when you make it sound like I’m some kind of experiment.”

You flashed him a softer smile and something in his chest eased a little. “You don’t have to say yes, it was just a suggestion. Just…a new friend helping her new friend out.”

New friend.

Luke swallowed. “And…what would you gain from this?”

You sighed, shrugging your shoulders again. “Honestly? I’ve had my fair share of disappointing experiences in bed by guys who think they are sex gods. Call it a gift to womankind if I help at least one guy be competent and capable in bed.”

He blinked. “Right. Gift to womankind. That’s me.’

You snorted. “Just think about it, yeah? Obviously, you can go about with whatever you are doing. Just a suggestion to make a casual thing out of it, to help take the stress away. It’s your choice, Luke.”

It was his choice.

He knew it was his choice and, despite knowing little about you, some stupid part of him trusted that you were being genuine. You were odd but you were sincere, and he knew your offer was sincere too. If he took you up on it, you would help him out. If he declined, you wouldn’t push the matter any further and just move on in your life.

No more words were exchanged after that, the offer lingering and the tap still running as the red stain showed no signs of budging under the soap and cold water. He knew he didn’t have to give you an answer there and then.

But the worst part was that Luke was pretty fucking sure he knew what his answer was the first time the offer left your lips.

And he pretty sure the remaining stain on your shirt was some sort of bad omen from the universe that already liked to tease him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He was fucking done being a twenty year old virgin and you were his solution to the problem.

#luke hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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plum-writes · 6 months

Text

❦🝮 ♡︎Submissive Miguel Ohara♡︎🝮❦

ఌ first of all, no matter how prideful or closed off this man may be, he wants to be taken care of

ఌ he wants to be held, pampered, and be able to let go of all the problems weighing on his shoulders

ఌ he just wants the bliss that comes with no thoughts in his head

ఌ he does so much, for you, for New York, for the Spidey Society, for all the universes he works so hard to protect, that it comes as no surprise that it takes a toll on him

ఌ basically he needs to be fucked so good that he can’t think anymore, just feel

ఌ feel you

ఌ and he’s a little scared at first at how badly he wants that

ఌ to the point where he’s having thoughts and fantasies that are so deprived and needy he has to make sure they don’t become more than that

ఌ how could he explain that he wants to be used and abused in any way possible by you so badly, he aches almost every night, fucking his cock into his hand imagining it’s you???

ఌ he couldn’t- could never- so he keeps it a secret. until he cant

ఌ it all started with a back massage

ఌ he came home from work pretty late, so tired that his mind was muddled mess and his body was just going through the motions of his usual routine

ఌ it was obvious with his sluggish movements, and low, delayed grunt when you softly greeted him with his usual kiss home

ఌ you knew he was too drained to do much right now, and that was where you took the initiative to take care of him

ఌ something that made it even harder for him to keep the little secret to himself

ఌ but you didn’t know that, and he was too tired to refute your help like so many times before

ఌ so when he finished eating dinner and you gently led him to the bedroom, giving him another kiss while gently telling him to hop in the shower he didn’t brush you off

ఌ he didn’t tell you not to worry about him like he usually would

ఌ he was all too happy to obey you

ఌ and when he finished he certainly didn’t complain when you led him to lay on his stomach on the bed, telling him that he was going to get a massage for being so good, and hardworking that day

ఌ for working so hard to help provide for your beautiful home, for New York, for the universe

“Oh, Miguel, you’re so good to everyone. Doing so much for everyone, you deserve a reward for doing so good- you deserve everything, amor.”

ఌ the way his belly lit up had him waking up like a bucket of ice cold water was thrown onto him

ఌ he knew what this would lead too, how him being too tired to control himself, would reveal the part of himself that yearned for you

ఌ he had no idea how you would react to that and he didn’t want to risk any negative reactions he might get from it

ఌ but your hands and words just felt so good

ఌ you had him talk about his day, his words interrupted with muffled grunts, and the deep breaths that left his mouth when you would rub a tender spot on his back, making him loosening up

ఌ he decides at that moment that this is all worth anything he might let slip that night if he could just revel in your tender hands for a few more moments

ఌ you and your magical touch

ఌ he groans softly at the way you rub his back with caring hands, your weight a comfort from where you’re sitting atop of his thighs

ఌ the kisses you plant at the top of his shoulder blades leaving his skin tingling and buzzing, while your hands gently knead his lower back, your little knuckles digging into his tight spots

ఌ it makes him want more

“Aye, bebita. Treating me so good.”

ఌ you smile at his words, leaning down and angling your head to kiss his bushy brow, laughing lightly when his hand reaches back and tugs at the shirt you’re wearing

ఌ you readily take it off for Miguel, just clad in your panties now

ఌ He moans even more at the feel of your peaked nipples brushing against his flushed skin when you lean down, your kisses traveling up to his neck and ears, getting any peek of his face that flits through where he’s burying his head in his forearms

ఌ he chuckles lowly, and hums appreciatively when you squish your body fully on top of him to wrap your arms around his larger frame in a hug

ఌ he can feel your chest squished to his back, a wonderful feeling, your lips setting a blazed trail all along his body

ఌ his muscles relaxed and taken care of

ఌ he feels absolutely consumed by you and he loves it

ఌ and it just seemed to get him in that headspace

ఌ he starts breathing heavy when he feels you grip him tight, his sweats tightening at his groin area when you suck a spot on his shoulder, your teeth slightly nibbling and grazing his skin

ఌ your hands soon start drifting all over his half naked body, weight becoming heavier on him when you press yourself further to his back

ఌ he feels your panty clad pussy press against the side of his thigh, and he huffs heavily at the slight wetness that slides your panties messily

“Take it off mami, want to feel you, please.”

ఌ his voice is a gravelly, raspy, and delicious whimper

ఌ it’s not like anything you’ve ever heard come out of his mouth from the time you guys have been together

ఌ youve heard deep grunts, and throaty groans, slightly high pitched huffs, and even some quiet whines hidden deep in his voice when you guys have sex

ఌ but a whimper as sweet and needy as this one? This is the first your ears are blessed with the sound

ఌ you pause minutely, and even though it’s only for half a second, he notices right away

ఌ you feel him go stiff once again, and you just know his eyes are wide and brows furrowed, silently panicking to himself

ఌ he’s silently beating itself up at letting go of himself, of letting you see a side of him that would surely make you want to leave. Who wants to be with a man who acts like this from a few fucking sentimental words and little touches?? His mind screams at himself

ఌ he’s oblivious to the smile that stretches your lips, your hand continuing its journey to slip under the waistband of his sweats to grip is pretty, hard cock

ఌ you pick up right where you guys left off as if nothing is amiss, but your voice is notably more firm and throaty; it’s obvious how fucking excited you are about the new dynamic presented between you two

“What is it, Miguel? You wanna feel me that bad?”

ఌ you grind down on him, already soaking through your panties and you know he can feel the wetness on his skin already

ఌ he let out a choked off whine his arms tensing, and he stuffs his head further into them

ఌ he’s trying to be quiet. You don’t want him to

ఌ so you grind harder, and one hand leaves his shoulder to his hair and you slide your fingers through the soft tufts of hair. you grip gently and firmly tug his head up to look at you

ఌ his eyes are lidded, glassy and preening at you, cheeks red and lips parted just slightly

ఌ god you want to devour him

“Let me take care of you.”

ఌ that is the first time Miguel lets himself be fully vulnerable with you

ఌ you ride him deep in to the sheets that night, pulling more moans and whines from him that do nothing more than make you drip desperately for him

ఌ you feel drunk on him, almost feral at the way he’s so easily reduced to a whining, needy mess under you

ఌ you don’t think either of you have even came that hard together

ఌ this sparks an onslaught of many nights like this to come

ఌ you’ll know when Miguel gets in one of these moods, whether he vocalizes it or not

ఌ he’ll be surprised at how well you read him, momentarily quiet when you come up behind him and start kissing his back, hands drifting to the band of his pants with a whisper of

“Let me take care of you, bebito.”

ఌ oh man does he fold whenever he hears those words

ఌ he’ll gladly let you take control, content to just lay down and let your lips travel wherever they want to go

ఌ this often leads to times where he gets a little demanding

ఌ he begs and whimpers, whines and complains, will grasp and grab you, becoming so fucking needy that he can’t help himself

ఌ so he becomes a bit of a brat

ఌ he’ll be all whining and pouting, looking at you with such a desperate glare that shows how determined he is to get what he needs anyway he can

ఌ the first time he made you snap, he cried

ఌ and crying during sex was a euphoria he didn’t know he ever needed

ఌ being suffocated by your thighs for hours because he was too impatient to wait for you when you came home, bugging you during work

ఌ not letting him touch himself as punishment when you walked through the door, angry and pent up from the many voice mails and texts he left you- both on your home and work phone

ఌ degrading him with words that made his chest flush, and cheeks red like a tomato

“So fucking needy, Miguel. I’ve spoiled you too much haven’t I? You’ve become such a needy little brat, demanding everything from me, so. fucking. greedy- oh- right there!”

ఌ him loving the dirty words spewing out of your mouth, and loving your harsh touches even more

ఌ you guys aren’t strangers to each of you having scratches and bruises from sex, but him feeling absolutely unable to function after you’ve fucked his brains out??

ఌ he loves it so much it makes him cry

ఌ he loves the bite marks, hickeys, scratches, bruises, hand prints, and any little thing you leave on him, such actions never failing to make him moan

ఌ you guys have definitely done pegging

ఌ and he fucking loved it

ఌ the prep before consisting of you eating his ass like it was your last meal and then fingering it like it was your pussy was something he didn’t think he could ever enjoy so much

ఌ and then when you’re fucking him, the rubber, wet dildo hitting his prostate with every slap of your hips, he didn’t even know he could ever feel that good

ఌ he also loved the intimacy of it all

ఌ you interlocking your guys fingers when you devoured his ass made his breath hitch

ఌ you licking and sucking his balls while fingering him and looking up at him with such love where he was laying on his back on the comfortable bed made his cock squirt

ఌ you stroking his back and thighs when you probed the tip of the rubber dildo into him made his heart and stomach flutter

ఌ he loves you and just this fact makes sex with you so much better

ఌ he’ll never get over the way you make his breath hitch with just a look instead of a touch

ఌ or how you’ll be so caring and loving even when you’re riding him so roughly he’s sure he won’t be able to feel his dick tomorrow morning

“A-aye, fuck… oh carino, asi~”

ఌ his moans turn so high pitched, it’s like the most beautiful melody written just for you

ఌ he gets a little embarrassed sometimes when you see him like this- just the fact that you have the power to reduce him like this makes him a bit flustered and overwhelmed

ఌ but then you’ll assure him that you love it when he’s like this, kissing and hugging him around his broad shoulders when he refuses to meet your eyes after he’s recovered from properly being fucked out

ఌ and then he’ll realize he loves it too

#miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #miguel smut #sub miguel o'hara

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perlelune · 3 months

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Sippy Cup | Coriolanus Snow

The war never left you, so you find a way to cope. One where you never lost your childhood. One where the world is still pure and safe. And Coriolanus can't resist that innocence.

Warnings: NON-CON, Dd/lg, Little!Reader, Innocence Kink, Mentions of war, PTSD, Manipulation, Age Regression, Capitol!Reader

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

The first time Coriolanus catches you and Tigris playing Tea Party, you expect to find disdain in his eyes, mockery perhaps. Instead, another emotion blooms in the blond’s cerulean gaze. Curiosity.

It happens on a sweltering Tuesday afternoon, the sizzling summer rays spilling through the half-drawn lace curtains of your bedroom. As usual, you and Tigris are sitting across from each other with Teddy occupying the third seat between the two of you. He is being his sassy self, of course, complaining about the sitting arrangement and wanting more tea cakes on his plate. You scold him, reminding him what happened the last time he went on a sugar high. Teddy’s eyes are much bigger than his stomach.

Nervousness slithered through you when you confessed your secret to Tigris. You didn’t want to, initially. You missed several days of class at the Capitol University in a row and your best friend grew concerned enough to show up at your house unannounced. She found you right here, playing with your dolls and chatting with your bear.

You explained to her that the pressure to be big is too much sometimes, that instead of shaking and crying on the floor of the girls’ bathroom, you come here. Once you enter your bedroom, every single woe vanishes. Your head is empty and your heart is full. You’re a carefree, happy little girl once more.

To your surprise, there isn’t a shred of judgment in Tigris’ eyes when you tell her. She never utters a single bad word about the neat rows of dolls and plushies adorning your shelves, your soft pink walls, your frilly dresses or the ribbons in your hair. When you reveal your little secret to her, what you did to ward off the nightmares, she simply listens, hands on her chest as her blue eyes fill with tears. You tell her the pink helps erase the red. The same red that splattered across the pavement when your parents and brother’s bodies hit the ground during the First Rebellion. You were still holding your brother’s hand when he fell. You held it even as his palm grew cold and stiff against yours. If it weren’t for the Snow cousins prying your weeping form off his that day, you might have stayed there and met the same fate.

Tigris gave you the warmest hug. Then she asked if she could play with you, if that’d cheer you up. You were ecstatic. Since that day, Tigris would play dolls with you, attend your tea parties and even fill out your coloring books with you sometimes. You never have to pretend with Tigris. Don’t have to pretend to be a big girl. Or speak long, complicated words. Or care about big, important things. You can just be a princess in her pink castle.

It’s why ice scatters in your veins when Coriolanus watches you and Tigris from the ajar door.

“You weren’t coming home, so I came to check on you,” he mumbles as he takes in the scene before him. Your face heats beneath Coriolanus’ wide-eyed stare.

Alarm flickers over Tigris’ face.

“You need to learn to knock, Coryo,” she chides. She whispers a gentle apology to you before getting to her feet. She nudges Coriolanus outside of your bedroom and they head to the bottom of the stairs.

Eavesdropping is bad; you know it. Good little girls don’t peep or listen through the door. But you can’t help it. Heart in your throat, you try to hear the whispered conversation between Tigris and her cousin. You only catch snippets. Your best friend’s voice is a little harsher than you’re used to, like she’s a bit upset.

Don’t you dare make fun of her.

She needs this, Coryo.

Stark blue eyes lock with yours from afar. Your heart slams against your ribcage. You hastily shove the door closed, rushing back to your pink wooden chair.

You pick up Teddy and cradle him against your chest. “Coryo is our friend,” you remind him. “He wouldn’t make fun of us.” Teddy is uncharacteristically quiet. You feel tears rush to your eyes, your bear’s doubts starting to creep into you.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

The deep voice rolling over you yanks you from your thoughts. Your head whips up. Coriolanus’ hunkering at your side, his head tilted in inquiry. You glance past his shoulder. Tigris is standing behind her cousin with her arms folded, her wary gaze glued to his form.

“Join us?” you repeat, dazed by his question.

The corners of the blond’s lips lift.

“Yes, it’s a tea party, isn’t it?”

Your gaze bulges. You never expected to hear such words spilling from Coryo’s mouth. He’s always so serious, so very serious, having no time for games. He’s been like that for as long as you can remember.

You wipe your tears and sniffle.

A little defensive, you clutch fistfuls of your pink dress.

“Tea parties aren’t for boys. They’re for princesses,” you state curtly.

Coriolanus’ expression softens as he considers you.

“Then I could be a knight, from a visiting kingdom.” You purse your lips, brows knitting. The blond’s warm breath caresses your ear as he bends over you, “Knights protect princesses.”

You mull it over. It’d be nice to have someone watch over you and Teddy, make sure no rebels storm your castle walls, paint your heart-covered walls red. You pluck your teddy bear from his stool and question him.

“What do you think, Teddy?” A very serious conversation silently occurs between you and your plushie. After a few minutes, you hum and nod, agreeing with him. Your eyes rise to meet Coryo’s. “Teddy says he’s okay with it.”

A bright smile unfurls on Coriolanus’ handsome face.

“That’s wonderful, princess.”

Over time, Coriolanus’ visits grow more frequent. He even gets into the habit of bringing you gifts, like new plushies and sugary treats. Despite your reluctance to include him because he’s a boy and boys can be mean and smelly, the time you spend with him is always a highlight in your day. Coryo is never smelly; he smells like the flowers in the Grandma’am’s garden and fresh pine. And he’s not mean. He never fails to be sweet to you, bowing to you and kissing your hand like a knight would, and always embracing every one of your games.

He becomes a fixture in your weekly tea parties, often accompanying Tigris or showing up when she’s too busy at the workshop to make it.

Somehow he always finds time for you, even if you know he’s so busy with important, grown-up things. You’re delighted. While playing alone is fun, your imagination knowing no bounds, it’s always better with a friend.

Today is one of these days. It’s just you and Coryo hanging out in your bedroom. He spends most of the evening handing you crayons while you color in the new picture book he got you, a comfortable silence swaddling the both of you. Coryo appears content just observing you, a peaceful smile hovering on his lips. The book is full of beautiful drawings of birds and landscapes. You never had one this nice so you were beyond thrilled to start coloring it.

When the sky gets darker outside your window, you sit up. You turn to Coryo.

“It’s getting late. I guess it’s time for the tea party to end. It was lovely of you to visit us, Sir Coriolanus and we hope-”

“Tigris said you were having nightmares,” he interrupts.

You go still, the crayons between your fingers clattering to the floor.

“That was a secret,” you mutter, your chest clenching. Why would Tigris tell him that? She’s your best friend. She should keep all your secrets forever. As you simmer in disappointment, Coryo places his fingers under your chin and lifts it. Your tearful gaze meets his.

“You can trust me too, princess,” he assures softly.

As you drown in his gaze, you get lost in a memory. Suddenly all the pink in your room is gone. Unmoving bodies. Gaping mouths. Hollow eyes.

Bright red ribbons flowing from their mouths. Crimson confetti popping from their bellies.

Everything in your vision becomes red.

You curl against the edge of the bed and close your eyes.

Hands on the side of your head, you take a deep breath. You slowly open your eyes again. You focus on the plushies sitting on your shelves until the somber clouds over your thoughts turn into cotton candy again.

You coax a shaky smile onto your lips.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Can we just play?”

He chuckles.

“It’s too late for games, princess. Isn’t it your bedtime by now?”

“Then I guess you should go, Coryo,” you say, resting your chin against your knees.

Coriolanus pauses, studying you for a while.

His next words are barely above a whisper.

“Or I could stay.” His large hand drapes over yours, covering your knees. “I could sleep in your bed with you.”

Shocked that he’d even suggest such a thing, you gasp.

“Boys and girls don’t sleep in the same bed,” you mumble.

He cocks his head, amusement swimming in his blue eyes.

“But I’m not a boy. I’m your knight, remember?”

Happiness flows through you with this reminder.

“Yes, you are,” you chime.

His fingers slowly drag over your joined knees.

“Actually…I could be more than your knight, princess.” His gaze locks with yours. “I could be your daddy.”

Your forehead creases, confusion mounting inside you.

“My daddy?”

His lips twist in an uneven smile.

“Yes…daddies protect their little girls. Just like knights.” His fingers drift down to your ankle, the warmth of his touch seeping through your thigh high socks. “They don’t let anyone hurt their pretty princesses. And they keep the nightmares and monsters away at night.”

Amazement colors your tone with this knowledge.

“Really?”

“Of course.” He cups your cheek. “I could sleep in the bed with you and keep my little girl safe that way.”

“I could even tell you a bedtime story.”

Your eyes light up. “A bedtime story?”

He fondles your cheek, his expression softening.

“Of course, anything for my sweet little girl.”

You climb into bed, your entire body shaking in anticipation. Coryo removes his shoes. He picks a book from your shelf and joins you on the bed. He gets under the covers with you and tucks your head against his chest. He opens the book to the first page, his tone patient and clear as he begins to read the tale to you. Your lids sag as you relax against Coryo, his fingers absently stroking the top of your head. You get engrossed in the story of a princess who gets lost on her way home. Lulled by his deep voice, you sink into sleep before the story’s even done.

For the first time in a while, a dreamless slumber welcomes you that night.

When Coryo’s tall frame slips through your door that day, hope twitches inside your chest.

Tigris promised she’ll come today. She’s canceled on you so much lately and expressed how awful she feels about it, so you have been looking forward to seeing her again.

For some reason, work has been exceptionally busy these last few weeks. And while you understand how important work is to your best friend, you’ve missed her so much.

However as he clicks the door shut and you realize no one’s trailing behind Coriolanus, your shoulders slump.

The faint hope you harbored withers away.

“I thought Tigris was coming today.”

Coriolanus sighs as he inches towards you.

“I know princess…” He plucks your hands from your lap. “But there was an emergency at the dress shop. It’s gonna keep her the whole night.” His lips graze the back of your hand. “I’m sorry, she said it was more important than being here.”

Your mouth flies open.

More important than being here? Coryo’s words drive a dagger through your chest, his sympathetic expression twisting it even more.

You lower your head. Tigris has had a lot of emergencies lately. You hardly spend any time together anymore. Part of you even wonders if maybe she’s sick of playing with you. After all, Tigris is a big girl with many things to do. You know she dreams of becoming a stylist and that’s likely more important than silly little girl games. You swallow the tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

Coryo cradles your face.

“But daddy’s here to play with you.”

Your voice trembles as you quell a sob. You look at him, warmth flowing through your chest. Your daddy’s right. You have no reason to be sad. After all, he’s with you. Just like he’s held you against him so many times in the last few weeks, reading you stories to help you fall asleep, and cheering you up whenever you felt sad, you can always count on your daddy.

“That’s amazing, daddy.”

His eyes seem to flare with an idea.

“Actually I thought we could play a new game today.”

Curiosity widens your gaze. “A new game?”

Coryo pulls you closer, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

“Yes.” He pauses before revealing slowly, “It’s called ‘Mommy and Daddy’, princess.”

“Mommy and daddy?” Your brows squeeze together in confusion. “Tigris and I have never played that before.”

Coryo licks his lips, his gaze running over you.

“It’s a special game between daddies and their little girls,” he explains, his tone lower than before.

“I don’t know it.”

A deep chuckle parts from his lips. You frown, not understanding what’s so funny.

“I know you don’t, sweet girl,” he says. fondling your cheek. A tilted smile blooms on his lips. “It’s okay because Daddy can teach you all about it.”

You feel nothing but complete trust as Coriolanus nudges you backwards until your knees hit the edge of the bed. You look up at him, a mix of confusion and curiosity written on your features. He smiles at you, sinking to his knees to remove your shoes.

You watch him do it, wondering why they need to be off for the game. Your daddy’s palm lingers on the sole of your socked feet, his finger traveling upward, dragging over your ankle.

His eyes look a little weird now, though you can’t explain in what way. You frown, the air around you growing colder.

Did you forget to close the window?

He crawls over you, pushing you down on the mattress. Coriolanus’ smell surrounds you and your nose twitches. You’re not used to being so close to him. You can make out every detail of his handsome face, trace every one of his long lashes, and distinguish every line on his face.

He scrutinizes your form beneath him, one hand beside our head while the other sweeps under your thigh.

“What’s going on, daddy?” you ask, your voice trembling.

“It’s a game that’s easier played on a bed, princess.”

You give a nod of understanding. He strokes the side of your face, pride lacing his tone.

“Such a good girl.”

He bends his head against your shoulder. You hold your breath, a little uncomfortable for a reason you can’t place. Daddy drops a kiss at the base of your neck. Goosebumps spark on your skin. His kisses go lower and lower, his large hands following the same path.

When his fingers land between your legs, your eyes go wide with confusion.

“D-Daddy, what are you doing?”

A soft gasp leaves you as he begins to rub your cotton panties.

“There’s a special place where daddies touch mommies,” he whispers. He clutches at your center and the breath dies your throat. Your body gets hotter, your belly tightening as he pinches you in a particular spot. Coriolanus’ fingers go up and down. It both hurts and doesn’t hurt. Twisting and pulsing in a foreign way the more he touches you. Overwhelmed by the feeling spreading all the way to your toes, you cling to his arms for support.

His blue eyes are glued to your squirming frame as he traces circles around that little spot that leaves you feeling strange.

The hand besides your head moves, drifting to unbutton his pants. Your heart skips a beat as a part of your daddy you never saw is revealed to you. It’s big and red at the tip. You tense, heat rushing through you as you look away.

“Look at me, princess,” he instructs, drawing your quivering chin back to him. He presses himself against your little girl parts. Whimpers spill from your mouth as he humps you through your clothes, pinning you underneath his frame.

His hot breath rolls over your face.

“How does it feel?”

“A little weird.” You shake your head, a surge of tears threatening to break free beneath your lashes. “I don’t know if I like this game…”

He frames your chin, squeezing more tightly than usual. “Do you want to make daddy happy, princess?”

“Y-Yes,” you stammer.

His thumb skims over your shuddering mouth.

“This is daddy’s favorite game to play with his princess.”

“Okay…”

Your mood sinks. You’re liking the game less and less the longer it goes on, but you don’t want to disappoint your daddy who held you almost every night to chase away the bad dreams. His daddy thing gets heavier and bigger against your belly while he moves. He grunts, his throat rippling. The sensation is almost too much to bear, your vision swaying as he stimulates your little girl parts.

Daddy’s game is a little strange, you’re starting to think, and it’s making you feel weird things. Weird, tingly things. And it makes the room spin like a carousel.

You try to close your legs, stop the wave of strange, uncomfortable feelings…But Coriolanus wedges himself between your thighs, forcing your knees apart.

“Daddy…”

His brow twitches. “Shh, let daddy take care of you, princess.” His lips cover yours, smothering all your doubts. You feel bruises form on your mouth and cheek as he kisses you harshly. Lips trailing down to your neck, he pulls your panties down your legs.

There’s barely time for you to register the cool air hitting your bare center before he’s starting to push himself in. The pain strikes you mute at first. Just the tip of him is so much. Too much. It feels like you will break any second. Coriolanus pants above you, straining to fit as you squeeze around him, fear and pain throbbing through you.

“It’s okay, princess. Daddy’s got you,” he mutters.

When he sinks even further, a broken sob leaves you. A fire burns you from inside, amplifying every time your daddy moves ever-so-slightly.

Tears fill your eyes to the brim.

“I don’t like this game, daddy. Can we stop playing, please?”

He wipes your tears with soft kisses. The words pouring into your ear, while uttered sweetly, are firm. “The game’s not over until daddy says it is, princess.”

Your breath falters as he goes all the way inside. He hums deep in his throat, draping himself over your shaking frame. Your head lolls to the side, your eyes wandering to your dolls and stuffed animals. The abrupt urge to poke their eyes out so they don’t have to see any of this blooms inside you. Tears stream down your cheeks as Coriolanus thrusts inside you. His throaty moans mingle with the slapping of skin against skin. The noises your daddy makes get louder every time he slams into you. He spreads your thighs more, pushing deeper. When you tighten around him, your daddy moans, his eyes rolling back.

“You’re squeezing daddy’s cock so well, princess,” he lauds, knuckles dragging over your temple.

He goes faster, hitting sensitive parts that draw sharp noises of agony from you. Every part of your body is wide awake with pain and discomfort. Numb with a plethora of confusing, terrifying emotions, you don’t move as his hips snap into yours relentlessly.

The game lasts for hours, it seems. You’re thankful when daddy appears done, his movements getting sloppier as his pace slows.

As his hips stutter, his hand wraps around your jaw.

“Daddy’s going to come inside you, so you have to say ‘thank you’”

A hoarse sigh leaves him, his lashes fluttering as he empties himself inside you. You shudder.

“Thank you for coming inside me, daddy,” you mechanically repeat. Bile rises in your throat as the excess gathers around your folds, pooling over your once pristine white sheets.

His sweaty form folds over yours. Another tear slides down your cheek.

“Such a good girl for me.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck and coos, “We’re going to play so many fun games together, princess.”

Your stomach curls with dread at that promise.

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #tbosas fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 9 months

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The Rain is Always Gonna Come if You're Standing With Me | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends. This one took me approximately 100 years to finish because school is eating me alive. This one is based on Peace from folklore, which is an underrated song, in my opinion.

Word count: 12.3k

Warnings: Bucky's negative self image, harassment, slight reader injury, people being assholes

"But I'm a fire, and I'll keep your brittle heart warm If your cascade ocean wave blues come All these people think love's for show But I would die for you in secret The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?"

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, doll-” Bucky said as you swiped the dirty dishes from the table. He made a grab for them, but his enhanced speed was no match for you. You expertly evaded his capture, slipping away from his grasp with almost no effort. You knew him too well, knew his movement patterns and habits. Anticipating his every move was easy. With a cocky laugh, you turned on your heel and headed for the sink.

“Sweetheart, really,” he called after you, “I’ll clean up.”

“But you made breakfast.” You set the two bowls that once held yogurt, fruit, and granola in the sink and turned on the water. “It’s only fair that I do the dishes.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and gave a laugh, “that wasn’t breakfast, baby. It was just a… a morning snack.” In only a few long strides, he met you at the sink. His large hands snatched yours and pulled them to his broad chest, halting your efforts to clean.

You cocked your head to the side, “A morning snack, huh?”

“Yeah. I mean, I know we’re going out for breakfast, but I didn’t want you to be hungry.” He added a fraction of extra pressure to your hands, pulling them closer against his body. “I gotta take care of my girl.”

“Well, that’s very thoughtful of you,” you placed a quick peck to his lips. “And because you are so thoughtful and sweet, let me do the dishes.” With a playful tug, you tried to free your hands from his grasp. But Bucky held firm.

He shook his head, “Nope. Not gonna happen.” Suddenly, he released your hands, spun you around, and landed a light slap to your ass; it happened so fast it left you giggling. “You go get dressed, I’ll take care of it.”

Your giggly “sir, yes, sir” floated down the hall as you marched toward the bedroom. This was to be the perfect day. A trip to your favorite bookstore, followed by what you swore was the best chicken and waffles the city had to offer. After breakfast, the two of you were set to visit the new shark exhibit at the science museum, eat lunch in the park, and grab an ice cream from your favorite spot.

Bucky planned it all out, ensuring a flawless blueprint. And while you appreciated his attention to detail, you would’ve been happy with a day at home. All you wanted- all you needed- was to spend time with him.

And time with Bucky was lacking as of late.

He stood at the sink, drying the now clean dishes as emotion overcame him. He couldn’t believe he was here- home- with you. He waited for this day. He hungered and ached for a day without danger, without bloodshed. He waited for a day spent with you. And only you.

He’d just been so busy lately- too busy. Over the past few months, he’d been dragged around the world more times than he could count. His missions only seemed to grow longer. And each time he got the call from Hill, she sent him farther and farther away.

He found himself struggling under the weight of severe, mind-numbing exhaustion. Anxiety. His body threatened to give out with each new wound he received, each drop of blood he lost. But he didn’t mind the constant paint or fatigue. What upset him most was spending so much time away from you.

The two of you lived together now. You shared an address, a roof, a bedroom. The universe somehow allowed Bucky to have a home- a safe, comfortable home- with the person he loved most. But he’d spent so little time there lately that he feared it wasn’t his anymore. That he had no claim to the space. He always felt like a mere passerby upon arriving home, like more of a wanderer than a resident. He always had to stop himself from knocking, had to force himself to use his key.

But who was he to waltz through the front door after being gone for so long? Who was he to act like he owned the place? He thought maybe he didn’t deserve it, this home you shared. And he knew he didn’t deserve you.

Over the past few months, he spent only a handful of nights at home while you held down the fort. You kept things together. He missed out on so much of your life; what if you didn’t want him to be a part of it anymore?

When Bucky did come home, he always showed up in the middle of the night. Sore. Exhausted. He’d drag his body into the bed you shared and pass out before he even got the chance to pull you close. He’d sleep late, his body too fatigued to wake before the afternoon. When he finally stirred, the two of you did your best to catch up. He wanted to hear every detail of your life, and you his. But without fail, the emotion won. You’d cry together, wrapped in the other’s arms, whispering “I love yous” over and over.

And without fail, some world ending threat would interrupt. Danger always found a way to force the two of you apart, isolating you from one another. And only twenty-four hours after arriving home, Bucky would leave. Again.

But over the last few weeks, things started quieting down. It was slow at first. Subtle. But Bucky sensed a shift in the air. He could almost feel the world settling. At first, he thought he’d lost his mind. But Sam, too, felt the earth calming. As did Hill. Whatever sweeping, overwhelming chaos that sent the entire planet into disaster so many months ago seemed to finally lose steam. Fewer calls came in, fewer alerts woke Bucky in the middle of the night.

And three nights ago, Bucky came home for good.

The adrenaline that kept him going for so long evaporated as soon as he made it through the front door. The anxiety melted from his body. It was the only thing, he realized, that kept him upright. And with it gone, his body gave out. He crumbled and collapsed to the floor as sweet relief flooded his every cell. He didn’t care that he was hurt, that he was worn out; he was just happy to be home.

But a sharp shriek flooded his system with fear once again.

You stood frozen in the doorway of your bedroom, just a few feet away, with your hands clasped over your mouth. Tears welled in your eyes. Your chest rose and fell as sharp breaths dragged into your lungs. The sight of his limp body sent you jumping to the worst, most tragic conclusions.

“No, I’m- I’m okay, baby.” With great effort, Bucky pulled himself to his feet.

It was then that you snapped out of your horrified trance. You rushed to Bucky’s side, throwing your arms around his neck, and pressing your body to his. You needed to be as close to him as possible, needed your souls to touch. His arms wound around you and pulled you closer still, desperate for you.

“You’re okay…” you whispered against his neck. It wasn’t a question, but an affirmation.

“I’m okay,” he said. “I’m home.”

That night, after he took a shower and let you clean his wounds, he planned this perfect day. And though you told him it wasn’t necessary, he wanted to make things up to you. He wanted to apologize for being gone so long. For breaking your heart over and over and over again. For disappearing.

He knew how his absences affected you. Knew you worried about him constantly when he was gone. He noticed the way you bit your nails down to the quick. How you picked at your cuticles till they bled. Your tired eyes looked bloodshot, and your bottom lip chewed raw. He knew your anxiety gave you stomach pain and headaches. Knew that you could barely eat or sleep when he was away.

His constant disappearing act put you through hell. And he hated himself for it. All he wanted- all he ever wanted- was to make you happy. To bring you calm and ease and tranquility. And now that he was home, he swore to himself that he’d give you peace.

Bucky finished with the dishes and headed into the bedroom, hoping to soak up as much time with you as possible. But just as he made his way into the en suite bathroom, your grumbled, aggravated voice caught his attention.

“Oh, what the fuck?” You let out a deep huff, staring down at your phone with a sharp seriousness.

Bucky popped his head into the bathroom, “Everything okay?”

A look of surprise splashed across your face; you hadn’t heard him come in. “Oh- hey. Yeah. Everything is-” you gestured to your phone, “everything’s fine. My friend just sent me a stupid gossip article.”

“Anything good?” Bucky shot you a wink, knowing damn well he was clueless about the latest reality tv drama.

“No.” The word carried a hefty weight and fell to the ground with finality.

Bucky clocked your tone, your expression- both struck him as too serious for a gossip rag. His muscles stiffened ever so slightly at sight of your displeasure.

“Just dumb shit. People writing whole articles over things they have no idea about.” You rolled your eyes and slipped your phone into your pocket. A deep breath acted as a reset to your system, clearing the fog of frustration from your mind. “And it doesn’t even matter, cause we have a perfect day planned.”

Bucky, too, took a deep breath. He relaxed into a smile and leaned against the door jam. “We sure do, doll.”

He was too accustomed to disaster. Always prepared for the worst. The slightest change in your demeanor sent him hurdling toward the worst possible conclusion. His body was home, but his mind remained stuck in a never-ending battle.

“I’m just gonna put my shoes on- I’ll be ready when you are.” Bucky stepped away and did his best to shake it off. ‘Everything’s fine, it’s all good’, he said to himself as he laced up his boots. ‘It was just an article about Vanderpump Rules or whatever.’ His palms dragged up and down his thighs, his chest rose and fell rhythmically. He learned how to self-regulate, to talk himself down, long ago- before he ever met you. It was his only option back then.

The sound of your footsteps bounding down the hall commanded Bucky’s attention. He snapped out his dimly lit world and stepped into your technicolor atmosphere. A comforting sigh of relief spread though his body as he noticed the bright smile on your face. Any evidence of the upset your gossip rag caused was long gone, replaced by an all-encompassing warmth.

“Alright, Barnes,” you grabbed your purse from the hook by the door and slung it over your shoulder, “let’s do this.”

The warm summer air greeted the two of you as stepped out of your apartment building. The busy city pulsed with the possibilities of a perfect Saturday. People passed by with dogs in tow. Cars honked. Birds sang. And finally, things felt right. Everything fell off its axis when Bucky was gone. The world turned in the wrong direction, the sun set on the opposite side. And only his return could set things properly in motion.

“Okay, to the bookstore,” Bucky weaved his fingers with yours and gave you a gentle tug in the right direction, “here we go!”

Bucky never had an affinity for going out in public. He didn’t particularly enjoy the crowded sidewalks or busy subways. Throngs of strangers surrounding him from every angle only ever served to put him on edge. But he’d improved. He’d worked through his anxiety and his fears- all to be with you. It seemed, though, that his paranoia threatened to creep in again. After so much time away, surrounded by danger, he found himself scanning every face on the street, assessing possible threats.

He always experienced some level of recognition in public, sure, but today felt different. Every pair of eyes seemed to bore through him, every mouth whispered his name. His muscles tensed, his jaw locked.

“You okay?” you pulled Bucky to the side, out of the flow of people, “you seem a little on edge.”

“Oh-” Bucky snaked his hand out of yours, realizing all at once the force of his grip. He watched you rub at the sore spots he created and silently cursed himself. “No, I’m good, I’m okay. I think I’m just-” He eyed the area once more, “I think I’m just being paranoid. Is it me or is everyone staring at me?”

Your heart stopped. “Um, no, I don’t think everyone’s staring,” A casual shrug and a shake of your head punctuated your thought. “I think you’ve got some residual adrenaline or something, you know?”

Bucky nodded. “Must be it. I’m sorry about your hand, baby.” He pressed his lips to the indentations his fingers left behind.

“I’ll survive,” you threw him a wink, “but the kisses help.”

The two of you continued your journey with Bucky’s worries only slightly assuaged. It seemed to him that hundreds of eyes raked over him with each passing second, but he forced his anxiety behind a wall. He wasn’t going to mess up this day with you- he couldn’t. He didn’t know how many chances he had left, and if this was the last one, he couldn’t afford to ruin it.

Block after block passed as you and Bucky got closer to the bookstore. Sure, there was a similar shop only a few minutes from the apartment- but it wasn’t as cute or as special as the one in the village. And Bucky wanted this day perfect. He’d do anything to make you happy. And so, he sucked it up and vowed to make the trek with you, no matter how nervous the public made him.

But with only a few blocks to go, you pulled him to the side once again.

“Hang on, shoe’s untied,” you attempted to bend down and tie your loose lace, but Bucky refused to let you. He, instead, knelt on the sidewalk and gave your shoe a proper double-knot.

He stared up at you with adoration in his eyes and a warm smile on his face, “this is almost like a Cinderella moment,” he joked. “Except I-”

Something caught his eye.

And before you had the chance to intervene, he was gone. He forced his way past cyclists and families with children, his body seemingly drawn in by a magnet toward whatever grabbed his attention. He stood with his back to you, examining a newspaper box.

“Come on, Buck, no one reads the paper anymore,” you laughed, attempting to sway his focus. But he didn’t move.

His gaze remained on the grainy photo of the two of you holding hands outside your building. For the second time that day, you scanned the headline: ‘SERIAL KILLER’S PR RELATIONSHIP: The Winter Soldier’s Attempt to Win Over the American Public’.

“What- what is this?” Bucky looked to you for help, for context. “Why did someone wrote about us?”

A haunting sense of hopelessness filled his eyes, leaving you gutted. And though he wanted to look away, he couldn’t seem to pull his eyes from the page. Each second spent examining the harsh headline caused him more pain, more anguish.

He truly couldn’t believe what he saw. And he couldn’t believe he’d dragged you into the crossfire.

“Hey, don’t pay it any mind, okay?” You fought to meet his eyeline, “It’s just stupid gossip-”

A realization flashed across his face, “is this what you were reading this morning?”

A slow nod confirmed his fears. “I wasn’t trying to hide it from you, I just-”

Bucky snatched a paper from the box and began reading at lightning speed. With each sentence, the dread filling his chest grew heavier. “Hydra’s deadliest weapon has a new victim,” Bucky read aloud. “though she hasn’t been bloodied or brutalized…yet. We’ll see just how long Barnes’s new PR ‘girlfriend’ survives.”

The words cut him deep. They wormed their way into his brain and unearthed the fears he’d long tried to put to rest. He knew he was wrong to be with you. He was wrong to indulge in his feelings for you. Dating you meant putting you in danger, and he’d known that all along. But you were never scared of him- and if you were, you didn’t show it. This article, however, cemented his belief: your relationship was a ticking time bomb; being Bucky’s girlfriend meant signing your I love you’s in blood.

“Wait-” he dragged his eyes upward and met your anxious stare. “What does this mean- what’s a ‘PR relationship’?”

You rolled your eyes at the phrase, just like you had earlier that morning, “’public relations relationship’. It’s a fake relationship that’s been arranged by a PR firm. People usually do it to get publicity or fix their public image after a scandal.”

Bucky knew there was more to your answer, and he had enough questions to last till dinner. But the article was long- too long. He knew it had to be full to the brim with the most brutal, vile rhetoric possible. Reading it would hurt, yes. But he needed to know exactly what the article said about him, about you.

He buried his face in the paper once more, only surfacing to share a line or two with you. “They think you’re being paid to date me? That we’ve been doing something called-” he double checked the article, “‘pap walks’? What’s a pap walk?”

Even in times of crisis, Bucky’s lack of modern knowledge still managed to pull a smile from you. “It’s where you call the paparazzi so they can take pictures of you, but you pretend it was spontaneous.”

Bucky looked stunned, “Why would anyone do that?”

You shrugged, “you’d be surprised.”

People took pictures of Bucky without his permission constantly- it happened all the time. They snapped photos at the grocery store and on the subway. And no matter how subtle they tried to be, Bucky always clocked it. He could almost feel the lenses on him. But he didn’t notice the person taking this picture on the front page. Maybe if he had, he could’ve stopped it. Maybe he could’ve saved you from being exposed like this.

He shook his head and disappeared once again into the disgusting story written about the two of you. He didn’t care much what they said about him. People hated him- that wasn’t knew information. And though he didn’t love being one of the most reviled men in history, he’d come to terms with it. But now that someone dragged you into the fray, the fire within him reignited.

“His new ‘girlfriend’ functions as a means of improving the public’s opinion of Barnes and humanizing the ex-Winter Soldier. It’s a PR strategy we’ve seen a million times- one that could possibly salvage Barnes’s reputation,” Bucky read aloud. He eyed the people who passed, waiting until they crossed the street to continue.

“But what if she herself is no angel?” He rolled his eyes at the thought. “Surely, no one in their right mind would risk their life to date a proven serial killer. So, it’s entirely possible that she herself may not be in her right mind. Maybe she, too, is a criminal. Acting as Barnes’s new love interest could possibly knock time off her sentence or hours off her court mandated community service.”

Bucky stared at you, aghast. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I- I can’t believe they’d say that about you…”

“Buck, it’s okay,” you shrugged. “We both know I’m actually in love with you for real. I don’t have a prison sentence to shorten or community service hours to perform. And the last time I checked, no one is paying me to date you.” You cut a glance to the newspaper box, full of papers with front page coverage about you and Bucky, “I’m not worried about their bullshit.”

Bucky’s grip on the paper tightened, crinkling the edges. “But why’d they have to drag you into it? You haven’t done anything wrong-”

“Neither have you,” your tone was insistent, steadfast.

“We both know that’s not true…” Bucky loved your support, your assertions that he was an innocent man. But he never believed them. He knew he had blood on his hands even if you couldn’t- or refused to- see it.

“We both know you had no choice,” your rebuttal didn’t waver. “But, speaking of things that aren’t true,” you gestured toward the paper, “they also dropped Sam’s name.”

Bucky scanned through the article until he found the paragraph in question. “Why put in the effort to clean the blood from Barnes’s tarnished reputation? Two words: Sam Wilson,” Bucky paused his reading and stared up at you with wide eyes. All you could do was nod.

“Barnes and Wilson have been seen together on many occasions and have even been photographed on Wilson’s family boat in Louisiana. But Barnes’s association with Sam Wilson, AKA the New Captain America, only hurts the Captain America brand. Even if the two did take down the Flag Smashers as a team, Barnes is a bloodstain on the brilliant red, white, and blue of Wilson’s Cap.”

Hearing the words aloud twisted the knife. Sure, skimming the article hurt, but listening to Bucky read every last disgusting word hurt you in ways you never imagined. He deserved better. He deserved a world that loved him. A world that welcomed him home and celebrated his life. He deserved a fucking medal of honor for simply surviving what Hydra put him through. But he didn’t get medals or high praise; he, instead, got spit on by people on the subway.

“But if this new woman improves Barnes’s image in the public eye, his destruction of Wilson’s mantle may be mitigated.”

Bucky balled up the paper and crushed it into the nearest garbage can. His hands shook with anger, with anxiety.

“I hadn’t even- I didn’t even think of that…” he leaned against the newspaper box, dejected. “I didn’t realize I was ruining Sam's reputation just by being friends with him.” Despair darkened his expression. He knew getting close to people was selfish- he just never realized how selfish. And in one fell swoop, he ruined the lives of the two people he cared about most.

“You’re not- you’re not ruining anything,” you took Bucky’s face in your hands, cradling his cheeks. “These kinds of stories are all made up, baby. There’s no sources or actual information for them to work from, so they just write whatever will get them the most attention.”

Bucky’s gaze fell downward. “I don’t know, doll…”

“But I do. I know.” Your words came out desperate, pleading. Something inside of you shook with a frantic need to mend Bucky’s broken heart. You’d never seen him this despondent, this torn apart. “And I’m not gonna let you doubt yourself because of some low budget, piece of shit gossip article.” Regardless of the emotion holding you hostage, your voice didn’t waver. You stood firm in your conviction, determined to help Bucky find his way out of the spiral. “I love you. I love being with you. I missed you so much- I hate when you’re gone. And Sam- Sam loves you, too. I mean, not as much as me…” you shot him a wink. “But he is your best friend. He cares about you. And I can guarantee that he’s never- even for a second- thought that you were ruining his reputation.”

Bucky gave a shake of his head.

“Hey, you know Sam doesn’t care about that kind of stuff- he doesn’t give a shit what people think.” Sam knew Bucky as the ruthless assassin, the broken fugitive, and the rehabilitated man seeking amends. He’d seen the darkest, most twisted version of Bucky created by Hydra- even fought against him. But he didn’t see Bucky as a villain anymore. He saw only his friend, the tortured soul who tried his best every day.

Bucky lifted your hands from his face and held them to his chest instead. He gave a deep, heavy sigh that vibrated under your palms. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. Part of him wished to go back into cryo and escape the stares of the world.

You could see him crumbling, collapsing in on himself like a dying star. He was drowning in his own mind, and you offered him a life preserver. “Hey, I know it must feel fucking awful to see a story like this about yourself. And I know you hate that Sam and I are involved. But it’s not your fault.” You gripped his t-shirt in your fists, desperate to get your point across. “This whole thing is so predatory and evil- it’s killing me to see you hurting like this. But I swear to you that this does not matter to the rest of the world. they won’t even notice.” Bucky’s stare sliced through you. Something in his eyes appeared hopeful- but only for a moment. The brightness died suddenly, replaced by despair.

“Seriously, Buck, people these days don’t even have the attention span to read an article this long.” Bucky didn’t laugh at your attempted levity. You dropped your joking tone and grew serious. “I don’t want you to think that this changes anything- it doesn’t. This will not have any ramifications. It will all blow over. The news cycle moves so fast now- by tomorrow, this same shitty paper will publish something that’s, like, ‘Elton John is secretly an alien.’”

Bucky didn’t answer. He simply rested his shoulders against the cool, brick wall and let his head fall back. He wondered if the fear people held for him would ever subside, if he’d ever be seen as anything other than a monster. His legacy was soaked in blood. It hung over his head every day, dripping crimson onto his skin. No shower could undo the stains- no matter how hard he scrubbed, he’d always be the stuff of nightmares.

“Okay, hey, how about this,” you reeled Bucky back in, saving him from the dark recesses of his mind. “Let’s just go home, alright? We can hole up and hide out. Watch movies, order takeout. We’ll just stay out of the public eye until this bullshit blows over.”

The offer enticed him. Escaping the stares of strangers, their horrified expressions- it sounded idyllic. The thought of just the two of you snuggled together on the couch, marathoning all of What We Do in the Shadows with Chinese takeout in hand was tempting. Bucky could feel the ‘yes’ forming on his lips. But at the last second, he refused with a shake of his head.

Bucky made a promise to you. After being an absentee boyfriend for months, he planned out the perfect day and swore on his life to deliver. He couldn’t break any more promises- not after he was gone for so long. And he had so much to make up for. So many date nights and lazy weekends fell by the wayside while he was away. He racked up a stack of debt in your relationship, and if he didn’t start paying it off soon, he feared you’d cancel his account.

But he knew you- knew you didn’t care about these things. You didn’t consider him accountable for the time he missed or hold a grudge against him. You were gracious- too gracious- of him. And if he rattled off his reasons for refusing your offer, he knew you’d sweep them aside. He knew you’d lead him home without hesitation and stay cooped up inside until the world eased up on him. And you’d miss out on your perfect day.

Bucky wasn’t going to let that happen.

“I think it’s actually better if…” he eyed the people passing, certain they were shooting the two of you dirty looks. “I think it’s better if I just go about my day. If we go home and hide, I’ll obsess, you know? I’ll get trapped in my own head.” He quickly tacked on an addendum, “but if you’re not okay being out in public right now, I understand. They involved you in this mess, too.”

You shrugged, “it doesn’t bother me. I know our relationship is real. That’s all that matters.”

And for a split second, Bucky’s worries disappeared. You were so sure of your love for him. So unbothered by what everyone else had to say. You didn’t let the opinions of others get to you; you loved Bucky, end of story. You adapted to every hurdle and challenge brought on by dating the ex- Winter Soldier. And you did so with a smile.

“Okay, good. Then I guess our next stop is the bookstore,” he said with a small smile. You tried to turn and head in that direction, but Bucky caught your hand, stopping you. “And hey- if anyone on the way there gives you trouble, you just say the word, okay?”

But no one gave you any trouble. The walk to the bookstore was quiet. Unremarkable. No one hollered close-minded comments at Bucky. No one gave either of you venomous glares. The calm shocked Bucky. He’d been so sure that this day would fall apart. That everyone who read that article would converge on the two of you all at once, harassing and degrading you until you retreated home. But no one said a word. The two of you simply strolled hand in hand, soaking in the warm summer sun. And Bucky’s hope for a perfect day renewed.

“I thought it would be in this section…” Bucky scanned the ‘fantasy’ section of the bookstore, searching for a specific novel. He took the high shelves, and you took the low, meeting in the middle after a fruitless search.

“Yeah, I didn’t see it, babe,” you rose from your squatted position, two mystery novels under your arm. “Maybe you should ask an employee? I can stay here and keep looking, just in case we missed it.”

“Yeah…” Bucky gave the area another cursory glance, to no avail. “That’s a good idea. I’ll be right back.” He dotted a kiss to your forehead and set off in search of a clerk, leaving you behind to double check the shelves.

The hundreds of books lined up in perfect rows put you at ease. This shop was the coziest place in the city, a peaceful paradise free from the noise. And spending a Saturday morning with Bucky, wandering amongst the many titles, felt like home. Your fingertips brushed over a few of the spines, tracing the ornate lettering in search of Bucky’s book.

“Excuse me?” An unfamiliar voice brought you back to reality, halting your hunt.

“Oh, sorry,” you took a few steps out of the stranger’s way and continued your search, only for her to interrupt once again.

“No, I want to talk to you!” her intense energy was out of place in the small, quiet bookshop. The eagerness in her voice rubbed you the wrong way. “Is it true?”

You stared at her, a blank expression on your face. “Is what true?”

“The whole PR relationship thing!” She pulled out her phone and shoved the article in your face, “I read about you two this morning.”

Your hands tightened into fists. Your jaw tensed. And though you wanted to wring this woman’s neck, you kept your cool; Bucky wouldn’t want you to get into a fight on his behalf. With a deep breath, you quelled the rage building inside you. You set down your books and relaxed your shoulders, forcing your breathing to steady.

This stranger had no right to ask invasive questions about your relationship, and no right to ruin your favorite bookstore. “Our relationship is none of your business,” you said, and turned back toward the bookshelves. This stranger didn’t deserve your eye contact, your attention, or your mental space. “Please, leave me alone.”

“Oh, duh! I bet they made you sign an NDA, didn’t they? I get it,” she threw an all too friendly chuckle in your direction. “Can you at least tell me what they’re paying you?”

With that, you brushed past her and attempted an escape. All you wanted was to find Bucky and put this whole interaction behind you. But she followed, phone in hand, recording the whole thing.

“Are you a criminal, too? Are you getting time off your sentence or something?” she called after you.

You let it go.

“How’d they get you to agree to this arrangement?”

You ignored her.

“Aren’t you scared? I could never do what you’re doing,” she said. “No amount of money could ever get me to be near that man- he’s a serial killer. He’s a monster!”

Something inside you snapped. You whipped around, rage burning behind your eyes. She crossed the line. She didn’t know anything about Bucky, only what the papers and tabloids said about him. And she

deserved to pay the price for speaking about him so harshly. But just as you opened your mouth to tear her to shreds, a large hand rested on your shoulder.

“Hey, doll,” Bucky stared down at you, “What’s-”

Your harasser’s eyes widened. “Oh my god,” pure terror rendered her white as a sheet. “It- it’s him…” Clumsy steps carried her backward as her phone slipped from her hand. She scrambled for it, desperate to run in the opposite direction. Breathless, horrified sounds fell from her lips. Her hands shook. You watched with a smile as she snatched her phone from the floor and tripped over herself as she high tailed it for the door.

Bucky eyed the woman as she knocked over displays and ran into other customers. “What was that about?”

You gave a shake of your head, “nothing. She was just hounding me about the article.”

Bucky’s shoulders slumped forward ever so slightly. Hit brow grew furrowed. “Oh, baby…” he sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t follow me around and ask me invasive questions.” You stretched up on your toes, planting a kiss to his cheek. “It’s not a big deal. I just hope I don’t end up on her Tik Tok.”

Bucky’s mouth fell open, “she was filming you?”

You nodded. Bucky’s face fell.

A rushed “Don’t worry about it, though” pushed its way past your lips. It had an over-the-top cheery tone and a thick affectation of reassurance. You could practically hear Bucky’s heart splintering and shattering with each passing second, and you had to stop it. “I’m sure she’s gonna watch it back later and delete it when she hears her own panicked panting,” you shot him a wink.

And you waited. Waited for the gears in Bucky’s mind to turn. To grind. The devil and angel on his shoulders fought one another, bare knuckled, to convince him of their arguments. The devil told him to spiral, to jump headfirst into a dark sea. He told Bucky this was all his fault, that you’d been harassed, followed, and filmed all because of him. The angel, however, urged him to listen to you. To take a deep breath. To hold your hand. To understand that the article wasn’t his fault- none of this was his fault.

And after a long moment, he slipped his hand into yours. The gesture was a bit reluctant, sure, but you didn’t care. He’d resisted the urge to plummet into guilt and shame. And that’s all that mattered.

You let loose a deep sigh as relief spread through your every cell. “Let’s get outta here, okay? We can head back home and-”

“What about breakfast?”

You eyed Bucky for a moment. “You still wanna go?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” he gave you a small smile. “I know how excited you were about it.”

Of course, all he cared about was you. Your happiness. Your enjoyment. Your love for this diner’s chicken and waffles.

“We can just go another time,” you assured him. “It’s no big deal.”

Bucky sensed the disappointment, no matter how slight in your voice. He couldn’t ruin this day for you. He couldn’t let you down again.

But he thought about the walk to the diner, the hordes of people you’d encounter on the way. And just like that, he felt his manufactured mask of optimism slip.

A sudden rush of what if’s pummeled his psyche. He imagined more harassers filming you, more unhinged strangers following you. He heard them yelling the most despicable things in your direction, hurling insult after insult your way. The voices grew into a loud, almost violent cacophony that rattled inside Bucky’s skull.

He couldn’t let you be exposed to the cruel world like this. He couldn’t take you to breakfast when an angry mob threatened you at every turn. You didn’t deserve to be yelled at, to be disrespected. And what if they turned violent? What if someone followed the two of you home? He couldn’t risk your safety like that.

But he still had to make up for all his time away. All the lonely nights you spent awake, wondering if he was still alive. All the weekends you spent alone, missing him until it hurt. And he’d made a promise- to himself and to you- that he’d rectify the pain his absence caused.

Plus, he had to be over-reacting, right? Assuming the worst out of people he didn’t even know- it wasn’t fair. Sure, a stranger followed you around and gave you a hard time. But she didn’t hurt you. She didn’t even try to get violent. It was all in Bucky’s head- he was sure of it. He made a conscious effort to release his shoulders from their tension-locked position and forced a deep breath into his chest.

“No, doll, really. It’s okay,” he gave your hand a squeeze. “I can tolerate a few dirty looks.”

The second the two of you stepped out of the bookstore and onto the busy sidewalk, you clocked the way hung his head. The way he hid from the eyes of the city. He tried to shrink himself, to protect himself. The confidence, the self-esteem he’d worked so hard to build came crumbling down in an instant. This wasn’t your Bucky, but the Bucky of years before. The Bucky who hated every fiber of his being. The Bucky who took every harsh word spoken about him as gospel. The Bucky who punished his innocent body to make up for his tortured mind.

The reemergence of this Bucky twisted the knife with which the article stabbed you and rubbed salt in the wound.

The walk to the diner brought out your chatty side. Filling the air with lighthearted anecdotes and silly jokes seemed to you like the only way to keep Bucky afloat. If you could distract him from the pain, from the potentially hateful onlookers, maybe this day could be salvaged. But, much to your surprise, not one person harassed the two of you. No one asked questions or followed you around. Not a single errant camera flash dotted the street. Hope rose in Bucky’s chest. Maybe this perfect day could still go as planned. Maybe he could still keep his promise.

When you arrived at the diner without issue, Bucky found himself almost laughing at his own dramatics. He knew he worried too much, that he always considered the worst possible outcomes. He saw the world through a dark and stormy filter, always casting shadows over reality. But to his delight, he’d been wrong this time.

The bell atop the diner door gave a delicate jingle as the two of you made your way inside. The place had an old-timey feel that brought Bucky a sense of comfort, a sense of home. Large families sat packed like sardines in every booth. Tray after tray of French toast and eggs benedict passed by. The smell of bacon and golden-brown pancakes instantly pulled his lips into a smile. It seemed to Bucky that this joint was the real deal. He couldn’t wait to try the chicken and waffles you raved about. Couldn’t wait for a syrup-sweetened kiss.

“For two?” the hostess asked when you made your way to the front of the line. You gave her a nod.

She eyed the section to her left, appraising the area for an opening as a busboy waved in her direction. “Okay, this way,” she grabbed two menus from the host stand and gestured for you to follow.

But just as you attempted to trail her through the sea of tables, a booming voice caught your attention.

“Hey!”

The restaurant quieted. Heads turned in the direction of the outcry.

A large, gray-haired man with a soiled apron stepped into the hostess’s path, blocking her way. A deep crease formed between his furrowed brows. Sweat dotted his bright pink cheeks. This was the face of a man who stood over a hot grill for twenty-five years. He was familiar, but only vaguely so. You could’ve sworn you’d heard that voice before- though with a kinder intonation. And then it hit you.

During your last visit to the diner, he stopped by your table to ask how you liked the food. He was so kind, so even tempered. He thanked you for choosing to spend your Sunday morning at what used to be his father’s restaurant. He was so proud of the old place. So compassionate for its time-worn booths and outdated wallpaper. He told you how he worked in the kitchen for so long that now, even as the new owner and manager, he couldn’t stay away from the griddles.

But the kind-hearted man you met last time was long gone.

“Not in my restaurant!” He ripped the menus from the hostess and dismissed her with a sharp wave of his hand. He glared at Bucky, his eyes brimming with hate. “We don’t serve murderers here!”

The lighthearted chatter died out altogether. Forks stopped clinking against plates. Children halted their laughter. Hundreds of eyes locked on Bucky as his cheeks burst into a red flush.

“Get out before I call the police!” The man took a step toward the two of you, “You’re not welcome here, you psycho.”

“You can’t talk to him like that!” you barked back. “He isn’t-”

“Baby, don’t,” Bucky cupped a hand around your upper arm and tried to gently pull you toward the door. “Let’s just go.”

“No,” you cut your gaze back to the manage, “not until he apologizes.”

Bucky gave your arm another tug, “please.”

The desperation in his voice nearly made you crack. His eyes swept across the room and back again, taking in each and every horrified stare. With each taunt the manager threw his way, the weight of the public eye grew heavier. More suffocating. Their stares pushed Bucky’s shoulders forward and his head down. He was crumbling.

Not one person stood up for Bucky. No one- aside from you- called the manager out. No patron even gave a disapproving shake of their head. It sickened you.

With a small nod, you obliged Bucky’s request, and let him lead you out of the restaurant. The stares followed him the entire way.

Bucky wanted to disintegrate. He wished to, once again, turn to dust and evaporate into the breeze. If he ran, he could put a few miles between himself and this godforsaken diner in minutes. But he found his feet rooted into the ground. He was frozen. Trapped. Running wasn’t an option.

He leaned against the cool glass window of the diner and let himself process. He heard you talking a mile a minute, reassuring him until you ran out of breath. But he couldn’t pick out more than a few words. It wasn’t until a defeated apology fell from your lips that he snapped out of his trance.

“Wait- you’re sorry?”

You nodded. “I’m so sorry, Buck. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Baby, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.” His gaze fell into a strange middle distance, landing on everything and nothing all at once. “I should apologize. That article… it ruined everything. I feel like I-” His eyes met yours, “your life is never gonna be the same after this.”

You gave him a shrug, “who says I want it to be?”

His eyes met yours as an exasperated laugh left his chest, “You’re kidding, right? This is going to affect everything for you: jobs, housing, friendships. When people look you up online, all they’re gonna see is that article. They’re gonna see me.”

“Good. I want them to see you,” you said with a wink. “If I’m gonna date the hottest guy in the universe, I want everyone to know about it.” Bucky didn’t laugh. “Babe, I’m not worried about that kind of stuff right now. I’m worried about you.”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he let his gaze fall to the sidewalk below. “I’ve been through worse.”

The worn-out, beaten down quality of his voice was enough to make you weep. Bucky didn’t deserve more pain. He didn’t deserve to be treated like a monster. But society cast him out and labelled him a vicious predator. They abandoned him, left him in a corner to rot and wither. All alone.

And you weren’t going to let them do it again.

“Fuck that article and fuck all these people who wanna disrespect you.” You tilted his chin upward until his eyes met yours, “we’re gonna go home and order take out. We’re gonna watch some movies. And we’re gonna get through this bullshit together.”

Without another word, you slipped your hand into his and started off in the direction of home. But Bucky didn’t move.

You turned back to him, an expectant look on your face. “You coming?”

“But…” he gave the diner another look, “You didn’t get your chicken and waffles.”

“What?”

“You should go back inside and eat,” Bucky pulled his hand from yours. “I’ll head home and-”

“Buck, I say this with love, but-” you cupped his face, “are you nuts?”

He let out a deep, genuine laugh.

“I’m not gonna eat here ever again,” you spied the manager through the window, “fuck that guy.”

Bucky just wanted you to enjoy the breakfast you’d been dreaming of. He hated that you were willing to deprive yourself. That he’d ruined your special breakfast spot. But your fierce loyalty filled him with warmth. In that moment, he made a mental note. He planned to scour the internet and find the best chicken and waffles in the city to make up for today’s mess.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Bucky said. “You were ready to fist fight that guy.”

You put up your dukes and landed a few faux punches to Bucky’s chest, “hell yeah I was. No one is allowed to treat you like that.” Your hands fell to your sides. A sudden seriousness eclipsed your joking tone. “Ever.”

Bucky pulled you in for a hug, holding you close to his chest. He never thought he’d have someone like you in his life. Someone who loved him. Cared for him. Supported him. But, without fail, you had his back every time. You were his safe harbor, his soft place to land.

Sometimes, he thought that maybe you were with him by accident. Maybe he was never meant to experience your gentle kind of love. Maybe he interrupted you on your path to someone else. Maybe he somehow got tangled in fate’s thread. But he didn’t care.

You took Bucky’s hand once again, prepared to lead him in the direction of home, “Ready?”

Bucky gave you a cheery nod, “let’s-”

“Fuck you, murderer!” a passerby shouted. He disappeared in a flash, bold enough to insult Bucky but cowardly enough not to hang around for the consequences.

Bucky thought the man might’ve said something else as he bolted from the scene, but he didn’t quite catch it. He was too distracted by the vague sounds of discomfort grumbling out of your chest.

“Doll? You alright?”

Slowly, carefully, you turned to him. A look of shock yanked his features upward as he came face to face with the massive coffee stain covering your body. It splashed over the entirety of your chest, streaking down the front of your shirt. Steam still wafted from the drips running down your neck. Rogue droplets dotted your arms.

“Oh my god…” Bucky didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to help you.

The boiling tidal wave seared through your skin, setting each nerve alight. You could’ve sworn it hit bone. The sudden rush of pain forced a trembling into your hands, an unsteadiness into your voice. A stinging rush of tears brimmed against your lash line, but you wouldn’t dare let them fall. Not when you could practically see Bucky choking on his guilt.

“Wow, I wish that asshole was more of a cold brew guy,” you joked. “And he ruined my favorite shirt with his shitty aim.”

Bucky’s chest seemed to fold in on itself. It shuddered and shrank, collapsing against his thundering heart. Each inhale was shallower, greedier than the last. Oxygen leeched from his lungs as the crushing panic set it. An ever-darkening shadow clouded the edges of his vision- but he couldn’t succumb. Not when you needed him.

Before he knew what was happening, he used his body to form a protective shell around you. He ushered you toward the diner door, scanning the area for oncoming threats. No one else was going to get to you- not today, not ever.

A deep sigh of relief left Bucky’s chest as he ushered you inside. Sure, it was only coffee. And you weren’t even the target. But every passing second brought a new, horrifying ‘what if’ to the forefront of Bucky’s mind.

What if you’d been thrown to the ground?

What if you’d been shot?

What if vengeful people wanted to spill your blood as payment for Bucky’s crimes?

He thought he might throw up.

But the second he made it to the hostess stand, his nausea dissipated. The fog clouding his mind cleared. You were his priority- everything else could wait.

“Someone just threw hot coffee on her,” Bucky said to the hostess. His words came out quick, firm. “She needs ice now.”

The hostess’s features sunk with a heavy guilt. “Oh, shit. I-” She glanced across the room at the manager and watched him with narrowed eyes as he schmoozed with the regulars. “I’ll go grab some right now, give me one second.”

The seconds dragged. Anxiety coursed through Bucky, prickling at his every cell. He clenched and unclenched his fists. Bit down on the inside of his cheek. Anything to calm the worry. But he couldn’t help it; you were attacked- because of him. And he needed to remedy it as quickly as possible.

“You doing okay?” He stared down at you, worry creasing his features.

You nodded, “yeah. Doesn’t hurt that bad anymore. I think all of my nerves have gone numb, ya know?” You attempt at humor sunk like lead.

“Baby, I’m so-”

“What the fuck did I say?!” the manager stomped over to Bucky, his wrath on full display. “I’m calling the cops! I already kicked you out once-”

Bucky held up a hand in surrender, “We just need some ice- the hostess went to get it. As soon as she gets back, I’ll go.”

The manager rolled his eyes, “No- you don’t get anything from us. Leave! I’m calling the police!”

It was then that the hostess appeared with a large plastic bag full of ice. She looked at you with kind eyes, apologizing silently for her manager’s behavior. “Here you go. Is this enough? I can get more-”

“It’s plenty, really,” you hastily grabbed for the bag and pressed it to your scorched skin. The cool sensation flooded your senses, doing away with any remaining discomfort. “Thank you.”

“Great, you got your ice,” the manager spat, “now get out.”

Bucky thanked the hostess a hundred times over as guilt settled in his stomach. He knew she’d get in trouble for helping him. He knew the manager would scream at her- most likely in front of everyone. But she’d shown the two of you kindness. She did her best to help you in a moment of need, regardless of what others said. And it renewed Bucky’s faith in strangers- if only for a moment.

“How does that feel? Is it okay?” Bucky eyed the dripping bag of ice, the shivering in your fingers. “I can ask her for-”

“Hey! Do you speak English, or just Russian?” The manager yelled, “GET. THE FUCK. OUT. You understand?”

Part of Bucky wanted to disappear into a cave for a while. Wanted to hide from the ridicule. But he couldn’t check out. He couldn’t evaporate and leave you to fend for yourself. No, he’d made a promise to himself the day he met you; he swore he’d always protect you. And though he couldn’t stop the public from treating you with malice, he could at least get you home safely.

“Woah, hey- where are you going?” Bucky put a hand over yours, halting your attempt to open the diner door.

“Well, I don’t know if you heard the lovely manager of this fine establishment,” you said, “but he wants us to, and I quote, ‘get the fuck out’. So that’s what I’m doing.”

Bucky gave a fervent shake of his head, “No. You wait in here. I’m gonna get us a cab, and-”

“It’s okay, I’ll come with you.” You gave the door a tug, but Bucky kept it from budging.

“Don’t,” a dark seriousness clung to Bucky’s words. “I don’t want anything else happening to you.”

Bucky’s protective nature was always sweet. Always made you feel special. You couldn’t help the tiny grin that pulled at your features. “Babe, it was just coffee-”

“This time,” a grave look ghosted over his face. “It was just coffee this time.”

Bucky let his eyes drift to the busy sidewalk outside. Every stranger, every passing face posed a threat to your safety. Anyone could have a knife. A gun. And while Bucky was certain that the hot coffee had been meant for him- that you were simply collateral damage, an unintended target- he feared how the city might treat you. You’d already been followed, harassed, filmed, attacked. People saw you as fair game, as a token of retribution. An eye for an eye that made the city blind with hate.

“Can you just-” He dragged his gaze back to you, “will you please wait inside?”

Bucky couldn’t remember ever being this scared. Not on the train, not at Hydra. This was different; this was your life at stake. Your vulnerabilities exposed to the world. It was as if a magnifying glass sat posed above you, giving anyone and everyone a detailed look into your life. Bucky knew there wasn’t much time before the rays of the sun burned you alive.

“Okay, yeah,” you released the door handle, “I’ll stay in here.” It was the least you could do.

He was deathly pale, his hand shaking with anxiety. He worried about you so intensely that you sometimes feared he’d get sick. And though no part of you wanted to send Bucky out there alone, you agreed.

His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly; the whisper of a smile crossed his face. “Thank you,” he dropped a kiss to your forehead and headed outside to the world that hated him.

And hate him they did. You watched from the diner window, the scene that played out filling you with anguish. Not a single cab even slowed down for him. Vacant taxis turned off their lights as they approached- only to turn them back on once they’d passed. Bucky’s shoulders grew more slumped with each unsuccessful attempt at hailing a cab. His head drooped; his expression grew pained. This wasn’t fair. After his pardon, he’d worked so hard to earn the public’s trust, to reenter their good graces. He made his amends, went to therapy, even did a few interviews at Sam’s suggestion.

One poorly written article in a shit-rag paper, however, was enough to send him back to square one.

All Bucky wanted was to get you home safely, and he couldn’t. He couldn’t even provide something that basic, that simple. He cursed himself relentlessly as taxi after taxi flew by. He was supposed to protect you, to take care of you. And yet, he was the reason for your pain. Your peril. It made him nauseous.

After countless failed attempts at securing a ride, Bucky turned to face you. He stared at you through the dirty glass, shame and disappointment dragging his features downward. For a long moment, he just stood there. Completely still. Passersby bumped into him every now and again. People muttered under their breath about him being in the way. But he didn’t move. He just looked at you, the person he loved most. You, the person he cared for above all else. You, the person he couldn’t protect. Couldn’t provide for.

Part of him thought it best to just walk away. His absence would make your life easier, less chaotic. Safer. If he left you alone, maybe you’d find someone else. Someone normal. Someone better. Someone who could take you out to breakfast without putting you in harm’s way. Someone whose mere existence didn’t prompt strangers to scream at you in public.

But he couldn’t leave you- ever. He was bound to you from day one.

One last fruitless attempt at catching a cab sent his heart sinking down, down, down to the soles of his feet. And as he approached the diner with his tail between his legs, he felt himself stepping on it with each pace. He was so embarrassed, so ashamed. With a quick wave of his hand, he beckoned you to the door and popped his head inside.

“Baby, could you…” he was almost too downtrodden to speak. “Could you get us a cab? No one will-” he cleared his throat, “No one will stop for me.”

The look on his face hurt worse than your scorched skin.

“Of course, Buck. Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

It wasn’t lost on Bucky how quickly a cab stopped for you. It took less than a minute, maybe less thirty seconds. He stood on the sidelines, as far away from you as he could possibly get without leaving you defenseless. You looked good out there on your own, free from his burden.

The cab ride home was quiet. Uncomfortable. The driver eyed Bucky in the rearview as though appraising a threat. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles lost all color. You swore you heard the gas pedal hit the floorboards more than once. The car sliced through traffic and screeched to a halt outside your building, throwing you forward in your seat. The seatbelt tightened against your scalded skin, pulling a groan from your throat.

“Thanks. Um,” Bucky handed the driver a wad of cash, “keep the change.” He kept his focus trained on you but couldn’t pretend he didn’t notice the way the driver flinched. The way his muscles yanked his body in the opposite direction. The way his hands shook as he took the money. Bucky wished to evaporate.

But he couldn’t, not yet. Not when you needed him. And so, he walked you upstairs and ushered you into the small apartment you shared. He double and triple checked the deadbolt, even pulled on the door to ensure your safety. He couldn’t let anything else happen to you- he’d rather die.

“Alright, well, I’m gonna go take a shower,” you broke the tense silence. “I reek of cinnamon soy latte.” The laugh that punctuated your sentence did nothing to brighten Bucky’s stormy expression.

“Sounds good, doll,” he nodded. “You can just drop your clothes in the hall, I’ll throw them in the laundry for you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you frowned down at your coffee-stained shirt, appraising the damage done. “I don’t think this thing can be saved.”

Bucky shrugged, “It couldn’t hurt. I’ll give it a try.” He dropped a kiss to the top of your head, “it’s the least I could do.” And with a light tap to your ass, he sent you off to shower. The gesture wasn’t as lighthearted as it was just a few hours earlier, but he was trying. Trying to appear less dejected. Less broken.

But you saw through the façade.

When you emerged, free from the smell of coffee, you found Bucky in the kitchen standing over the kettle. He stared down at it, his hands resting on either side of the stove top, his shoulders nearly reaching his ears. You knew that look- he was lost inside his own head.

“You know, I don’t think you’re supposed to watch that thing…” you said, snapping him out of his train of thought. “Otherwise, it’ll never boil.”

His head snapped up. The darkness clouding his eyes parted. He smiled at your lame joke, letting your lighthearted tone lift his spirits. “I was just gonna make you a tea, I know you haven’t had the easiest day.” He just wanted to right the ship, to steer the two of you out of the dark, choppy waters in which you found yourselves. Maybe, this small, kind gesture could make up for your ruined Saturday. Maybe, it would keep you from leaving.

“How was your shower?”

Just thinking about it made you wince. “It was fine, I guess. I had to use the coldest water possible- any warmth at all made my skin hurt.”

Bucky’s eyes flicked from your face to the kettle and back. Worry creased his brow. “Should I not…” He sighed, “Are hot beverages out of the question?” He couldn’t believe how absentminded he’d been.

“No! Definitely not,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “you know I’ll always take a tea. Thanks, babe.”

A small, proud smile spread across Bucky’s face. For once, he didn’t disappoint you. For once, he didn’t ruin the moment. After such a nightmarish day, he finally breathed easy, knowing that he’d done one thing right.

“I was thinking I could run out and grab us something to eat,” Bucky said when he got you settled on the couch with your tea and a fresh ice pack. “I know you’re probably starving. And I could-”

“Baby, no,” you shook your head. “I don’t want you out there- I don’t want you getting harassed or attacked. We’re in hermit mode for a few days until this whole thing blows over. Okay?”

Bucky barely mustered a nod.

“Let’s just order some take out. What sounds good?” You dropped your ice pack to the side, grimacing at the loss of the cool sensation. But comfort could wait. You opened your laptop and sat up, poised to take Bucky’s order. But he didn’t answer.

He remained silent for a long while, eyeing the floor with a blank stare. His nails dug into the palm of his hand; his jaw tensed. Something deep within him fought tooth and nail to claw its way out. It scratched at his insides, screaming for release. Bucky didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to even chance upsetting you. But the words slipped out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop them.

“Do you ever regret this?”

You cocked your head to the side, “Regret what?”

“This-” Bucky gestured to himself, and then you. “Us.”

The words hurt worse than your scorched chest. “No. Why would you even say that?”

Bucky shrugged, “Because you’re covered in second degree burns and it’s my fault.” Never before had he ever sounded this broken, this hopeless. Not even after Steve left.

“Buck, it’s not your fault,” you shut your computer and inched closer to him. “You’re not the one who threw hot coffee on me-”

“But the person who did was aiming for me, and you got caught in the crossfire,” he choked out. “That’s my fault.”

“It’s not-”

He stood suddenly, his anxiety forcing him to move. “Can you deal with this for the rest of your life? All the staring and the harassment? And the hiding at home because everyone hates me? Is that the kind of life you want?” He paced with a fervent drive, fearing that if he didn’t burn through the nervous energy, he’d suffocate under it.

But, even in the face of his frantic movements, you remained seated, remained calm. Talking to Bucky in this state was like coaxing an injured animal into your home. One wrong move, and he’d bolt. Every move, ever word, had to be slow, measured. With an even tone and soft words, you refuted his sentiments. “I want whatever kind of life lets me be with you-”

“You want people throwing coffee on you forever? You want-” He paused, only to place your icepack on your chest once again. “You want to be kicked out of restaurants and denied cabs? Just to be with me?”

One small nod. “Yes.”

Bucky stopped in his tracks. He turned to you, his expression blank. “People used to vandalize my apartment, you know…”

“What?”

He nodded. “After I finally came back to New York and tried to settle in…” The memories of those uncomfortable, disjointed days filled Bucky with dread. He’d never been so lonely, so lost. He pulled away from you, fearing he’d complicated your life. He forced himself into isolation. And to make matters worse, his community turned their back on him. They didn’t welcome him home or celebrate his survival. They made him wish he’d never made it back. “They broke my windows, filled my mailbox with pictures of my victims, used animal blood to write ‘KILLER’ across my front door-” He let out a heavy sigh, one that came from deep within his bones. “That’s why I moved so often. My landlords- no matter how sketchy they were, no matter how much illegal shit they did to their tenants- kept kicking me out. I was too much of a liability, even for those shithole places.”

It left you reeling. Images of Bucky coming home to find his place completely trashed hurt you in a way you didn’t know was possible. You could see him, covered in blood, scrubbing his front door in the middle of the night. Wiping tears from his eyes as he looked through piles of photos of the people he hurt. Taping pieces of cardboard over his broken windows in the hopes of keeping out the severe, violent winters. He didn’t deserve any of it.

With a deep breath, you forced yourself back to the present. “Buck, I don’t care about things like that. They can vandalize our place if they want. They can throw coffee at me.” Slowly, carefully, you rose from the couch. “As long as nothing happens to you, I’m happy.”

A rough scoff launched out of Bucky’s throat, “Come on-”

“No, you come on,” Your words came out too intense, too hard. But you couldn’t maintain your even keel anymore. Not when Bucky was moments from unraveling. “I have been in this with you since the day we met. I knew- almost immediately- that you were the person I wanted to be with. Even when you didn’t know where- or who- you were. Even when you went back into cryo. Even when you turned to dust and disappeared for five years.” Dredging up the past hurt. It sliced you open and tore your heart into pieces. But you didn’t dare fall apart- not yet. “Even when you pushed me away,” your voice wavered, “I have been with you- and I always will be. Because I know who you are. I know you’re a good person.” A few tears dripped down your cheeks, “I don’t want anyone else. I want you.“

“Why?” Bucky shook his head, “I don’t- I can’t understand that.”

“Because you’re just- you’re you, baby,” you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Bucky’s existence. “You’re kind. And you’re thoughtful. And you’re compassionate. You care about everything. Everyone. I’ve never met anyone with a heart like yours…” You shrugged, “I love you. So much.”

“I know you do. And I love you, but…” His eyes dropped to the floor, “I feel like being with me is a waste of your time. A waste of your love. You know? You should be with someone good. Someone with less baggage, whose hands aren’t stained with the blood of innocent people.” He dragged his gaze up to meet yours, desperation in his eyes. “I want to give you everything- I want to give you the world. But I can’t. I can’t give you what other people can. I can’t give you what you deserve.”

“I don’t want any of that- I don’t want the world,” you shrugged. “I want you.” To you, it was simple. Completely uncomplicated. But Bucky didn’t see it that way.

“Is that- am I enough, though? I mean, the quality of life I’ve given you so far has been…” He thought back on all the terrors and trials you’d face together. All the disasters to which he subjected you. He shuddered. “Everything I put you through is so fucking messed up. And scary. And painful. And-”

He shook his head. Since the day he fell for you, he knew one simple truth. And for years, he did his best to deny it. Hide it. Run from it. But it came spilling forward all at once.

“There’s always gonna be something with me. Some problem, some mess. I’m either gone for weeks, fighting god knows who, completely unable to talk to you until I show up at home covered in blood,” he said. “Or I’m here with you while strangers to accost you on the street because they hate me.” He shook his head, disappointed in himself. Why did he allow you into his dumpster fire of a life? Why would he subject you to the heartache and the misery he knew lurked around every corner?

He fought the tears gathering in his eyes, the emotion that attempted to block his airway. “The waters are never going to be smooth. Not with me. And I don’t want you to have to deal with the fucking tidal wave of bullshit that is my life. You deserve better- you deserve better than me.”

“Buck-”

“I want your life to be safe. Peaceful. Comfortable. Not-” he gestured to the icepack on your chest, “whatever it is now.”

Without a word, you took him by the hand and led him to the couch. And for a long moment, he refused to sit with you. He didn’t want to give in, to lower his defenses and allow himself to get comfortable. But your red-rimmed eyes, glassy with tears, forced him to take a seat.

And when he finally rested beside you, you ditched your icepack and took his face in your hands. “Everything you said that you want for me? I already have it. I have all of that.”

He shook his head, “Doll-”

“You make me feel safer and more comfortable than I ever have. Being with you is like being wrapped in a warm blanket made of bullet proof bubble wrap.”

Bucky couldn’t stop himself from letting out a quiet laugh.

“I’m serious. You can talk about how the life I lead with you isn’t enough and how you’re not enough, but this,” you gestured to yourself and then him, “is everything I’ve ever wanted. Being here with you in our home is… it’s the most peace I’ve ever known. Even when we’re just sitting in silence, it’s- it’s warm. It’s comforting.” You inched closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder, “It’s like we’re the only two people on the planet. And we can just exist in the other’s atmosphere without pressure or fear. We understand each other. And it’s perfect.”

A rush of pink colored Bucky’s cheeks. Sometimes, even after all the years he’d spent with you, he didn’t know how to handle such loving sentiments. But there was no pressure to perfectly articulate his thoughts or express himself without flaws. A simple “I love you” did the trick. He leaned into you, allowing your warmth to soothe his aching soul.

“All that shit that happened today didn’t even bother me much,” you told him. “The lady in the bookstore, and the staring, and the coffee thing- I can deal with that kind of stuff. I can take that every day as long as I get to be with you.”

He pressed a kiss to your hair and caught a vague whiff off coffee but didn’t bring it up.

“The only part that really upset me,” you continued, “was seeing people be so mean to you. And watching you get so down on yourself.” Reliving Bucky’s heartbroken expression at the diner almost made you tear up. “I can handle a rogue Starbucks, but I’ll never accept anyone treating you like that. You're everything to me- you always will be.”

Bucky handed you your icepack, begging you to put it back on your scalded skin where it belonged. “Well, I appreciate your support," he smiled to himself, "and your fierce loyalty.”

A mischievous laugh rumbled out of your chest. “Good. Just remember than when I call you from the county jail after I get arrested for burning that fucking newspaper to the ground.”

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

Taglist: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @evangeliamerryll @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo

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bedsyandco · 5 months

Text

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who didn’t think he was going to love you as much as he does. You started as fwb and the more time you spent together, the harder he fell for you.

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who keeps your relationship private but not a secret. He’s not afraid to post you on his instagram and does so quite regularly.

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who goes through his comment section and deletes all the rude comments about you because he doesn’t want you to see them. He gives Trevor, Cole, Alex and his brothers his insta details so they can help him.

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who gets so so happy to see you in the crowd wearing his jersey. Knowing you’re his #1 fan means the world to him.

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who makes an effort to take you out on a date at least once a week because he knows the hockey schedule is brutal and he doesn’t want you to feel neglected.

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who is terrified he’s going to mess up somehow or the hockey is going to become too much for you and you’ll leave him. He calls Quinn at least once a week and Quinn has to reassure him. This goes on for at least the first year of your relationship. After that he feels a bit more secure.

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who gets so happy seeing you and his brothers interact that he’d happily sit and observe your interactions as long as he gets to touch you somehow.

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 loves spoiling you and constantly buys you flowers and gifts despite you telling him not to.

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who loves how you team up with his little brother in the summer against him and Quinn. You’re just as competitive as them.

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who takes you home for the summer before you were official and everyone, especially his mom, could see how in love he was with you. After much prompting from his mom and his brothers he finally asked you to be his girlfriend out on the dock where his mom he set up a little picnic.

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who gets jealous easily and appreciates the reassurance you give him when he needs it.

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who thinks it’s hilarious that you get all pouty when you’re the one who’s jealous. He thinks it’s utterly ridiculous that you’d think he’d ever entertain anyone else when he has you.

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who doesn’t hesitate for a second to drop the gloves when someone says something mean about you on the ice.

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who loves how well you get along with his friends and thinks it’s hilarious that they start inviting you to hang out and not him. You get added to the group chat and the messages always reads “come hang out, we miss you. You can even bring Jack”

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who calls you before and after every game.

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who randomly tells you he loves you because he needs to make sure you know.

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who carries a ring in his pocket for about a year before finally asking you because he was nervous you’d say no.

nsfw headcanons

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who is very handsy all the time. His hands constantly wanders to places deemed a little inappropriate in public spaces. He especially gets handsy when they had a really good game and he’s high off the win and the team goes out to celebrate. Hands are on your ass 24/7

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who stares at you with so much lust in his eyes sometimes it makes you breathless. and it makes his brothers gag. He also stares at you with so much love in his eyes which also makes his brothers gag.

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who loves buying you lingerie. especially red ones.

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who can’t look at your freshly done nails and not think about them wrapped around his dick.

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who loves fucking you from behind while you’re wearing his jersey. He’s the type of guy to take a picture and send it to your ex who’s been bothering you.

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who loves cumming on you. On your face, ass, boobs. Just loves seeing you all messy for him.

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who can both fuck you like a whore and a princess depending on the mood.

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who is a little embarrassed by how easily you can get him on his knees

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who cannot control himself in the summer when you’re wearing bikinis and denim shorts and summer dresses. There’s always so much skin exposed and he loves marking you up. You’ve given up on trying to hide the marks.

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who gets a little turned on when you get possessive of him. Kissing his neck with lipstick on, he won’t wipe it off, he’d wear it happily.

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who calls you and you guys have phone sex on every road trip. He has a “spank bank” of videos and photos of you but it doesn’t compare to the real thing.

𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who gets the urge to go home and get you pregnant whenever he sees you interact with a child because you’re going to be such a good mom.

#jack hughes x you #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine

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thehighladywrites · 4 months

Text

ACOTAR MEN X READER, BEING THEIR SNEAKY LINK

☀︎ — summary: sneaking around with the acotar men👀 How long does this go on?

☀︎ — warnings: 18+, nsfw themes, tw beron🤢 mentioned

☀︎ — amara’s note: had this idea for a while, let’s bring this to life😈oh to be sneaking around with them🙏🏽💔

Rhysand

With him, no one finds out until you tell everyone

He is able to keep the links sneaky for sure, also he masks your scents so that no one can tell

No one really suspects that ur sleeping together because he isn’t paying any suspicios amount of attention to you.

He makes it up later though👀

At first, it was just a way for him to recover from Under the Mountain, so he sought you out for help in order to gain back some controll.

And he got better and began to carefully heal, yet here you both were, still sneaking around years later.

Yeah, years bc that is how good he’s able to keep secrets.

Oh, he gets jealous too and masks it as being a good friend and high lord when asked about it by the rest of the inner circle.

His favorite trick is telling the ic he’s sending you on a mission so they think ur gone, then he suggests them eating out while you’re gone then tells them he can’t make it so he stays at home and then you guys can stay at the house unbothered and alone

Since he gets jealous, he gives you hickies or make your legs so sore you can’t walk

Rhys looooves the attention you get during morning training for the others

“Are you okay, did you trip or something?”

“No, no Az,I’m fine. I was just doing some stretches and I think I overdid it.”

Rhysand just stands there happier than ever as you glare at him

Azriel

Guys, let’s be so real. Azriel ain’t getting caught, ever💀

He teaches you tricks on how to hide better when you’re coming over to his room

And it’s usually his room you hook up in bc he has trained himself to notice anything being off. Like if a book has been moved like a millimeter, he knows so it’s the safest and least risky place for you to be.

Because he is so attentive and sneaky, he is incredibly risky

He loves risky sex. Bro will fuck your brains out knowing people are close bc he knows he’s able to cover it up

Azriel also uses his shadows on you in broad daylight.

You’re out for dinner w the inner circle and his shadows teases and rub your clit under the table. You use your magic to suppress your arousal but it’s kind of hard to not squirm and all that

Az just sits there cocky as fuck knowing that he makes you react like that without even touching you

So so so soooo much jealousy on your side bc Azriel gets hit on all the time, males, females, youngsters, oldies, bro everyone wants him

People don’t hit on you tho because Azriel is always standing behind you, exuding that scary aura and energy that has people running the other way

Even after you two become official, you keep it under wraps. You don’t want anyone or anything ruining it for you so it’s all very hush hush

Only years after, when your friends ask why none of you date people, do you spill. You tell them you and Azriel are together already but it’s a private relationship

They were a little pissed but they let it go when they saw how happy you were and how good your dynamic is

Eris

He is sneaking around with you because of both your parents

You’re the daughter of one of B*ron’s🤢 close advisors so you and Eris spend a lot of time together

Eventually it develops into a secret relationship with a lot of sex

You both know your parents would hung you both if you ever got exposed but you still do it.

You both act like you’re somewhat of enemies or don’t like each other in public so that no one can even rise suspicions againt you.

Behind closes doors he sluts you out like crazyyyyy, i’m talking any type of sex, rough, soft, different positions, different places, new things added, toys, rope, cuffs this man is kinky I KNOW ITTT

like he has no controll over his life bc of b*ron 🤢 so he likes taking controll in the bedroom and dominate, yum👀

It all becomes more interesting and exciting when your parents decide it’s high time to get engaged and married.

Your suitors always wonder why you’re late and messy, what they don’t know is that you were busy getting bent over by eris

anyways when b*ron 🤢 dies and eris takes over, the sneaky link ain’t sneaky anymore. The man fully claims you, even making you his high lady.

Ugh i love him💔💔💔💔

Lucien

You’re Cassian’s sister and you’re hooking up with him on the down low

Lucien caught your eye when he and Feyre came back from Spring.

He seemed uncomfortable around everyone and kept to himself, until you started spending more time with him

Time turned your companionship to a secret relationship

Please, we all know how charming Lucien is, I mean, shit I’d fall for him too🫨🫨

Sorry @thelov3lybookworm but your man is so fuckable💗

Anyways, he is super charming and silver tounged and that makes you jump his bone immediately

This guy is amazing with his tounge, head game goes CRAZYYYYY

At first it’s just sex, but then instead of fucking then leaving, you begin to stay during the nights and talk for hours.

Eventually you realize the depth of your bond and how much you love one another.

You were quite nervous when telling Cassian bc Illyrian’s are super protective and possessive over their family but he is fine with it bc he knows that there aren’t better males than Lucien

Anyways, you keep sneaking around bc you don’t want to outright make out infront of the inner circle so you sneak away at parties, meetings and dinners.

This man is a risktaker just like Azriel. I know he sneaks up from behind, saying crazy and stomach flipping things, waiting for your reaction then fucks you in whatever place you are

Cassian

You’re Lord Devlon’s daughter and you sneak around with him.

No one knows about your magic from your mother’s side that you use to remove any trace of cassian

At first you hated him bc of your father and bc he manipulated you into thinking cassian and his friends were dangerous

There is banter and mean words exchanged between you that only makes the sexual tension between you even stronger

One night you both snap and have hate sex and that one night becomes the start of years of secret meetings and rendezvous.

Whenever he's in Windhaven, you two have a blast. To dodge curious eyes, you've got this genius plan: throw a party whenever Cassian conveniently has a meeting or mission there. With everyone a bit tipsy, it's the perfect cover for linking up

After a while you’re caught by Devlon himself and all hell breaks loose. Rhysand has to come down and solve everything before blood spills

Devlon disowns you and would have killed you had it not been for Cassian protecting you from your father

So he takes you to Velaris where you live with him and eventually become an advisor for Rhysand since he hasn’t lived there for years and would benefit from someone who was so close to Devlon

You have so much fun and yeah, that’s how you went from hate sex, fuck buddies, in love and eventually mates

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alrightieaphroditie · 11 months

Text

sticky situations | j.m

*:·ﾟ✧ back to masterlist

pairing *:·ﾟdbf!joel miller x female!reader wc *:·ﾟ5k warnings *:·ﾟ18+! minors please do not interact!! pretty much porn w/ minimal plot, dads best friend, age gap (reader is in early 20s, joel is like late 30s/early 40s) kissing, fun with popsicles (so like ice play, in a way), brief mention of choking, titty play, pet names (lots of ‘baby’ and ‘honey’) dirty talk, praise, slight humiliation if you squint, smidge of mutual masturbation, bossy!joel, unprotected p in v (please wrap it before you tap it), slight breeding kink, probably poorly written smut… i think that’s it :)) an *:·ﾟi lowkey told myself i’d never write a dad’s best friend joel miller story and yet here i am. this literally came to me in a fever dream, and i promise i am still working on my screwed series, but i could not stop writing this. mostly unedited (my bad) but i feel hella proud with this one, so i really hope you all enjoy!! stay safe if your celebrating the fourth today!

synopsis *:·ﾟbeing in a secret relationship with your dad's best friend isn't for the weak. while getting some popsicles from the garage, said boyfriend - joel miller - corners you during the firework show after you spent the day teasing him.

the scorching texas sun was high in the sky, and the sounds of children squealing carried loudly over the radio playing. the miller’s (moreso tommy, even though he didn’t technically live there) had been kind enough to open their pool to the neighborhood for the fourth of july holiday, and on a day like today, you weren’t surprised that their backyard was crammed full of people.

given that your father was joel miller’s best friend, you had already had plans to come utilize his pool, but now you could barely float like you planned with how many children were swimming in it. sarah’s soccer team had come over after practice as well, and it was to the point where even walking in the backyard was like walking through a landmine; you were consciously trying not to bump into anyone or step on a foot (or a child.)

your father had planted himself at the grill with the host himself, the two of them talking about god knows what. every now and then you’d catch joel’s eyes, and he’d take in the bikini top you wore, the sage green color complementing your skin.

you had told your father that you had bought it at the mall last weekend, but the truth was that joel had bought it for you, along with the skimpiest bottoms he could find. those you were wearing too, but you had them concealed by a pair of jean shorts. with the way he was eyeing right now, and the way you were subsequently eyeing him back, you were surprised that no one around you had picked up on the fact that you two were together.

it had been a few months, pretty much ever since you came home to your dad’s from school for the summer. he had moved into this neighborhood after your parents divorce, and when he told you back in january that he had the most amazing neighbor, you were happy for him. flash forward to your visit during spring break and it was joel miller this and joel miller that in your house. not that you really minded, you thought the contractor next door was very handsome, even if he was almost twenty years older than you.

your dad had introduced the two of you during your spring break, with joel being an absolute gentleman, and for a little bit that was all you had. but then your dad was pulled away for work, and even though you were fully an adult, he wanted someone to be there for you if needed. he gave you joel’s phone number, along with the promise that joel would do anything to help you, and that started the snowball effect to the beginning of your relationship.

you hardly used the number while you were home, but for some reason you found yourself staring at it one night alone when you were back in your apartment. joel hadn’t given you any hint, any indicator that he even liked you as a person. you mean, sure, he was kind and always polite to you when your dad had him over for dinners. but you noticed he always purposefully put some type of distance between you, and it just didn’t sit right with you.

so, slightly drunk and alone, you sent him the first text message. a simple, hey, it’s y/n from next door, and then, because you were in a mood and wanted attention: sorry to bother you so late, but my dad told me to text you if i ever needed anything. immediately after you wished you could’ve deleted it, and a few minutes had passed before you decided to put your phone down for the rest of the night. just as you placed it on the table next to your bed, you felt it buzz. think he meant that for when you’re next door, but what can i do for ya?

and that was that. you and joel texted throughout the night, and then all morning, and all afternoon, and all the next night. this continued for weeks, until you graduated to having nightly phone calls, and then facetime calls (you had to have joel ask sarah how to use facetime to begin with, but you thought that was cute) and for the rest of the semester, joel became your closest friend, and your biggest crush. and when you came home for the summer, you officially started dating joel miller. well… it was official between the two of you.

you never imagined falling for your dad’s best friend, and yet, here you were, in his backyard, wearing the bathing suit he had bought you, wishing you could at least hold his hand in front of everyone.

you saw his brown eyes dart in your direction as you moved near the grill, your ears picking up their conversation about the most recent football game. you watched as his pinky finger on the hand by his side extended ever so slightly, and as you walked passed, you brushed your pinky against his. the warmth the feeling gave you made you grin, and you slipped through his open back door, looking for sarah to help you and tommy set up the fireworks display in the street.

the rest of the evening went by in a blur - there were hotdogs and burgers eaten, smores were made with the small bonfire tommy had started, the music volume continued to increase with every passing hour. by the time the sky was pitch black with only a smattering of stars, everyone was full, content, and ready to sit on the sidewalks and lawns to watch the display happening at the end of the cul-de-sac.

you sat near sarah and some of her friends from soccer, listening to them gossip about what was going on in their highschool, but your focus was on joel. your eyes followed every movement of his, watching him pick up the boxes you had hauled out there and rearrange them. the gray t-shirt he was wearing was tighter around his arms, and you watched as the material strained against his biceps, his worn blue jeans curving to the muscles in his thighs.

the sun had gone down hours ago, but your cheeks were burning like it was still noon.

it finally came time for them to start the first round, and everyone chatted excitedly as they watched tommy set up the firework. you watched as joel tossed his brother a lighter, and before you knew it, sparks were flying across the pavement, and both brothers were running from it laughing. everyone’s head tilted back as they followed the spark, and seconds later a ground shaking boom exploded, the sky becoming colored in blue sparks. the children cheered, the adults laughed, and the dogs went crazy barking.

you watched a couple more rounds, grinning as kids began chasing each other with sparklers and laughing when tommy burned his finger slightly on a rouge firework. pushing up on your feet, you wiped your pants for straw pieces of grass while you turned to sarah. “hey, i’m gonna go grab a popsicle, do you want one, hun?” the girls eyes met yours and she nodded her head while still talking to her friend.

you made your way into the garage where you knew joel kept a deep freezer full of goodies on sarah’s behalf. you grabbed the first one you saw, a red cherry popsicle, and opened it while you searched the freezer for sarah’s favorite. you were so preoccupied that you didn’t make out the sound of the door to the garage click shut under the noise of the fireworks, didn’t realize that you were no longer alone until you shifted up and rough, callused hands spread across your exposed middle.

“joel,” you gasped, turning around in his grip with a laugh. his brown eyes were lit with amusement, but they darkened slightly as they roamed down your chest, down your hips where the strings of the bikini bottoms were peaking out. his hands slid down your sides, resting on the waistband of your shorts as he tucked his fingers through the belt loops.

“y’just had to wear this damn bikini, didn’t you?” his voice was rough, grumpy almost, but that was joel’s typical voice, so you just laughed in response. behind you, the freezer door fell shut, and joel took the opportunity to lift you up so that you were sitting on top. the cold surface made you shiver, but it was joel stepping between your legs, pressing his hips against yours harshly that gave you goosebumps.

“well, a nice older man did buy it for me, so i felt compelled.” you teased, moving one of your arms to rest against his shoulder while you licked along your popsicle, the treat already melting in the heat building up in the garage. joel’s eyes zeroed in on the movement, and you couldn’t help but grin as you repeated the motion, sucking the popsicle further in your mouth than probably necessary, watching as his brown eyes practically blended in with his pupils.

“god, you’re trouble,” joel managed to get out before his lips slanted over yours. you moaned into the kiss, consciously holding your popsicle to the side so it didn’t get all over the two of you. your other hand moved to the back of his head, fingers running through his brown locks gently. joel swiped his tongue against your bottom lip and made a low humming sound. “taste like cherries,” he commented, sliding his hand from your waist up to your throat.

“it’s the popsicle,” you gasped out, feeling joel’s hand encompass your neck. he pulled your hips forward against his by your belt loop, rocking you against him. his lips trailed from yours down to your jaw, down your neck, to your chest. the action had you panting out his name like a prayer, and it only further encouraged him. he managed to untie your bikini top without you noticing, and he roughly yanked the material over your head.

“let me see this thing,” leaning back, he took the popsicle from your grip, your hand becoming sticky from it melting in your hand. he licked it himself, which had you giggling, but then he put the treat up to your mouth. “open up, baby. wanna see you lick this like you lick me, yeah?” his voice was soft, comforting almost, which went against the actions of his hands, as one tightened around your neck and the other pushed the cherry treat into your mouth.

your eyes went hazy, and you focused on maintaining eye contact with joel while your face burned with heat. your mouth wrapped around the popsicle, letting him push it in as far as it could go. the coldness of the treat shocked you momentarily, feeling a slight burning sensation against your tongue as he held the popsicle in your mouth for a moment before slowly pulling it out.

your cheeks hollowed against it, sucking as much of the flavor off as you could, and when joel pulled it out of your mouth, a red string of your spit fell from your lips to your chest, dripping down in between the valley of your breasts. “fuck, honey.” joel groaned, his hips rutting against yours momentarily before he leaned down, licking up the trail of red juice on your skin. a whimper escaped from your mouth as you pressed your chest closer to his mouth, and joel took the opportunity to force the popsicle back in your mouth.

he slowly moved the popsicle inside your mouth, and even though he had his eyes closed while he pressed his mouth against your chest, you twirling your tongue around the treat, wanting to please him always. you could feel your bathing suit bottom sticking to your core with how wet you were becoming, and you wiggled your hips against joel’s body to get some type of friction.

he sucked one last kiss against your neck, biting against your skin before he pulled away. “goddamn, baby. such a good girl for me, huh? suckin’ on this popsicle like it’s my damn cock.” his crude words made you whimper, and with one last twist, he pulled the popsicle out of your mouth. his dark eyes stared at your mouth for a moment, taking in how red the popsicle made your lips. how wet they were from your saliva.

joel’s mouth formed into a smirk before it was pressed against yours. your fingers tangled in his hair, your nails scratching his scalp faintly. he sucked your bottom lip in his mouth, running his tongue over it slowly as if savoring the cherry flavor. his teeth nipped your lip, causing a moan to emit from your mouth. joel grinned against your mouth, and you tugged him closer, desperately seeking more.

the air in the garage was becoming suffocating, and you could feel sweat forming along your upper body. joel could feel it too, still clad in his t-shirt and jeans, and he gave you one more deep kiss before he pulled away. “you feelin’ hot, baby?” you could only nod your head, a whimper escaping your mouth as he grinned wickedly at you, eyeing the popsicle once more, the treat half melted. “let’s cool ya down, then.”

you watched with a slightly opened mouth as joel moved the popsicle to your chest, and you gasped when he pressed it against your skin, moving it down the valley of your breast. the coldness made goosebumps rise across your chest, and you couldn’t help the small moans at how good it felt. joel’s attention was solely on popsicle, watching the sticky trail of red juice follow where he guided it.

“joel,” you whimpered, reaching down to grip his forearm tightly. you could see him smile, could see him bite down on his bottom lip as he moved the popsicle to trail over your nipple. the gasp you made had him obsessed, and he ran the cold treat over your sensitive nub over and over again, taking in your gasps and moans, which were being drowned out by the fireworks outside.

“fuck, you look so pretty like this.” joel muttered, almost to himself, but you could make out the words in his deep voice. he sounded strained, as if he were holding himself back from simply pouncing on you. you wish he would, though, as you could feel your inner thighs become wet with your slick. your core was clenching around nothing, and it had been so long since the two of you were able to get away that you were desperately aching for him.

the popsicle was melting quicker now, the juices moving swiftly down your stomach as joel traced the popsicle across your chest to the other nipple. you were squirming as much as you could, seconds away from begging joel to stop and to just fuck you already. but you could see it in his eyes that he wanted this, that he was enjoying this, so you let him have it, and you admired the growing bulge in his jeans.

soon the popsicle was nothing but a puddle mixed into your skin, and joel tossed the stick to the side. “think i need to clean you up now, baby. look at the mess you made,” he said with a tsk, as if you were the one who drew on your chest with the popsicle. you didn’t have it in you to argue, though, especially when joel bent down and took your sensitive nipple in his mouth.

the contrast of the cold popsicle juice with joel’s warm mouth had you groaning, and you slumped against the garage wall as joel traced the popsicle trail with his tongue across your chest. he would pause here and there to place open mouthed kisses along your skin, and you knew in the morning you’d have some small bruises littering your skin. you liked wearing them though, liked having the reminder than joel had marked you as his. because you were, undoubtedly.

“joel, baby, please,” you whimpered, not fully understanding what you were asking for, but joel thought you were begging so beautifully. he wanted to hear you plead his name for the rest of his life. he pulled your nipple in his mouth, tweaking it with his teeth. a sharp pain flitted through your body, only lasting a second, but he did it again, and again, and soon you were panting.

“please, what?” joel mocked, grinning against your skin as he moved to squeeze your breast with his rough hands. “this not enough for ya?” satisfied that he cleaned up the mess the popsicle had made, he trailed his mouth up to your neck and across your jaw before pausing right in front of your face. his breath was warm as it fanned across your face, and you leaned in to kiss him but he pulled away, a teasing grin on his face.

“no,” you whined, moving your hands down the waist of his jeans. he let your fingers fumble with the button before he unbuttoned his pants himself, yanking the zipper down. your hand went inside his boxers immediately, and joel let out a curse as your fingers wrapped around the hard length of this cock. just the feeling of it in your hand had you moaning, and you slid your hand along his shaft the best you could in your position.

“‘course it ain’t enough for you. your needy little cunt needs more, yeah? needs my cock in it to stretch it out?” his hips moved in rhythm with your hand, his hand resting against the freezer top in a fist. his eyes fell shut as you pumped along his cock, and you bit down on your bottom lip as you watched him. you loved seeing him like this, because it made you feel powerful. like you were the only person who could bring joel pleasure like this.

with a growl, joel’s hands suddenly moved to your shorts, where he unbuttoned them with swiftness and yanked them down. you lifted your hips, helping him get the material past your thighs, and they fell to the garage floor. “feet up, baby.” joel tapped your thigh gently, and you removed your hand from his boxers, lifting your legs up and bending your knees to rest your feet on the edge of the freezer.

you wanted to blame the wet feeling between your legs on the humid air gathering inside the garage, but you would’ve been a damn liar. you could feel yourself soaking through the material of your bikini bottoms, and you knew the moment joel was able to see it because he let out a string of curses. he brought his hand to the material, running his fingers gently down the seam, and you both moaned.

“jesus christ, honey. have you been wet like this for me the entire time?” his southern accent was starting to show more, as it did when he got excited. he ran his fingers along the seam once more before pushing the flimsy material to the side and running his finger through your wet folds, and he groaned at feeling how wet you were before sliding one of his fingers inside of you.

“oh, yes, joel. please, fuck me, please,” you whimpered, your hips rocking against the freezer in tandem with his finger as he pumped it inside of you. if you were more cognizant, you would’ve probably been embarrassed by the noise that was coming from between your legs, but you were too lost in the pleasure, especially when joel moved his thumb up to glide against your clit.

“you are askin’ nicely, baby,” he said, mostly to himself as he watched his finger push inside of you, watched the wetness that coated it with every pump. he was obsessed with the way you were clenching around him, and he could hardly wait himself to feel that movement against his dick. “yeah, i think i will fuck ya.”

with one last push, he pulled his finger out from inside you, and laughed when he heard you whine about the loss. “‘s okay, honey. promise i’m gonna fill that little pussy up with my cock real soon, okay?” he made quick work of letting his jeans hit the floor, soon followed by his boxers. his throbbing cock sprung free from his underwear, and you couldn’t help but trail your hand down to your core, pushing your bottoms to the side and slipping your fingers through your wetness at the sight of him. he let out a low groan before spitting in his hand, bringing it to the tip of his cock and slowly palming it while he watched you swirl your fingers against your clit.

“here baby, make sure ‘m nice and wet for that pussy,” joel muttered, stepping closer to your body as held the underside of his cock in his hand, still pumping it up and down slightly. you ran your fingers through your folds once more, gathering the wetness that had started to spread down your thighs, and reached out to wrap your fingers around his tip. soon, the head of his cock was shining from both his spit and your juices.

joel moved his left hand to settle on your waist, tilting his thumb down just enough to pull the material of your bikini to the side. his other hand continued to work his shaft as he moved even closer, his knees hitting against the side of the freezer. his eyes were solely focused on your exposed pussy, but you were watching his face, wanting to see his expression when he put it in for the first time.

“god, you’re so pretty down here. think i’m the luckiest man in texas, baby.” joel said, a smirk settled on his lips as he ran the tip of his cock through your folds, your mouth dropping open in a sigh as you felt it slide against your clit. joel moved to grip the hem of his t-shirt, and he lifted it to his mouth, holding it between his teeth. you took in the sight of his tan and toned body, and then his eyes snapped up to meet yours as he pushed the head into your wet hole, the both of you taking in each other’s reaction.

you fought the urge to close your eyes, the feeling of his big cock stretching you out was almost too much for you. your nose scrunched up slightly, and a louder moan came from your throat. for the first time that night, you were glad tommy had spent two hours shopping for fireworks, as the sound of the explosives and festivities drowned out your cries. joel bit down on his bottom lip as he continued to push himself inside of you, mentally focusing on not coming right then and there.

he paused when he was fully seated inside of you, taking a moment to catch his breath as the two of you were both panting in the heated garage. you noticed joel’s forehead had become slick with sweat, and you gently brushed back the dark hair that had fallen forward. your hand slipped down to rest on his cheek, and he pressed a kiss into the middle of your palm before he started moving his hips.

“fuck, joel,” you whimpered, your foot slipping from it’s hold on the edge of the freezer. joel moved his right hand to grip your thigh, spreading you open before him once more. his nails dug little half-moon imprints in the fat of your thigh, and the angle allowed you to take him a little deeper than before.

“that’s what i’m doin’ honey,” his words were slightly muffled from the t-shirt in his mouth, but you could see the grin from his teasing, letting out a sharp laugh before it turned into a groan. he moved to pull his cock out, and you almost cried at the loss, your hips moving on their own accord to follow his length. his grip on your waist tightened, keeping you still, until he barely had the head of his cock inside. he thrusted forward again, much quicker this time, and this time your eyes did screw shut at the feeling of is cock filling you up so completely.

your hands rested on his shoulders, gripping him so hard that you were basically anchoring yourself to him. “so deep, joel… so good,” you praised, your head rolling back on your neck as joel continued to fuck you at a thourough pace. the t-shirt fell from his mouth as he started to moan. his knees banged against the freezer, the freezer banged against the wall, and the fireworks outside masqued both the sounds. curses and praises fell from joel’s mouth - “fuckin’ hell, baby. your pussy gets tighter every damn time i fuck you, huh? you’re doin’ so good, honey, takin’ my cock like a good girl” - and you were feeling so hot, so full. joel was nearly fucking you into oblivion with how muddled your thoughts were.

the sound of his skin slapping against your wet skin was all you could focus on, a noise you would’ve been more embarrassed by if it weren’t a testament of how turned on joel made you. each stroke of his cock had you whimpering, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. you moved a hand down to your pussy, moving your fingers against your clit and brushing up against his length every time he thrusted inside of you. the action not only made heat pool to your stomach, but it made joel groan. “that’s it baby, play with that little clit of yours. gonna make yourself come on my cock tonight? gonna let me fill this pussy up with my cum?”

“oh my god, joel, please - right there,” you sobbed, your inner thighs shaking slightly as the feelings became too much to handle. joel picked up on how close you were to coming with how tightly your pussy was clenching around him, and he continued to thrust his hips against yours, the wet noises coming from between your legs made his head feel light.

small, breathy pants fell from your mouth as you moved your fingers faster against your clit, and distantly you could hear joel encouraging you to let go - “that’s it, honey. you’re takin’ my cock so well, let me make you feel good baby.” - and as joel leaned forward to place a kiss on your damp forehead, you felt yourself burst. a loud cry came from your lips as your body went rigid, little white stars showing up behind your eyelids as pleasure coursed through every vein in your body.

“oh, fuck, baby,” joel groaned out, his grip on your body becoming impossibly tight as his hips thrust into you, his movements faltering slightly. the feeling of your pussy clenching around his length while you came was what sent him over, and he ground his hips against yours as he came. you could feel his cock throbbing, the warmth from his seed filling you up as joel tilted his head back and moaned. you watched him through hooded eyes, struggling to catch your breath, but the sight of joel coming was almost enough to help you come again.

he kept his cock inside you as you both came down from your orgasms, and it moved inside you a little when he leaned forward again, making you whimper. “sorry, baby,” joel said softly, slowly pulling himself out while pressing his lips against yours. you eagerly kissed him back, moving a hand to rest on the back of his neck while he deepened the kiss. you felt unbelievably wet, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“your cum is running down my thigh, miller.” you said against his lips, causing the older man to laugh. he pulled away enough to take in the mess that was leaking out of your pussy, and then he did something that shocked you - he gathered up the slick with two of his fingers before pushing it back inside of you. your nails dug into his skin as his fingers entered your sore pussy, moaning softly as he watched himself intensely.

his gaze moved back to your eyes, where he gave you a wicked grin before leaning in to kiss you again. you sighed against his mouth, your body relaxing on the freezer before the two of you started to clean yourselves up. joel went into the house to grab a washcloth and a spare t-shirt for you, considering your chest was stained red and covered in little hickeys. he gently cleaned the mess from between your legs, then himself, and helped you pull your shorts back on. you had him help tie your bikini top again, his fingers coasting against your skin. he gave the back of your neck a quick kiss before turning you around and putting his t-shirt over you.

“there. now those pervs outside can’t catch a glimpse of ya,” he said, seeming satisfied with himself as he yanked up his pants. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes - his cum was literally dripping out of your pussy and yet he was acting jealous.

“oh? you mean pervs like you?” you teased, laughing as he swatted away your fingers that were trying to poke him. you thought you heard him mutter something in agreement, but a particularly loud firework went off at the same moment, so you were clueless. you figured that they were on the finale with how frequent and how loud the next few fireworks were, so you gave joel one last kiss before sneaking out the door, which you thankfully noticed was locked.

as you made your way to the grass, you mentally ran a checklist. you remembered to put your shorts back on, along with your top and a t-shirt. you remembered to clean off the freezer top with one of the towels joel kept in the garage, and you remembered to let your hair down to cover a hickey on the side of your neck. you remembered to go out the garage door, while joel went out through the living room, as he told tommy he was going in to get medicine for a headache. you felt like the two of you had covered all the bases as you sat down on the grass near sarah.

“hey, where are our popsicles?”

oh, fuck.

2K notes · View notes

racinggirl · 3 months

Note

i’m hunting your ask box at this point but i can’t really regret it, your writing is a masterpiece each and every time 🎉

today’s thoughts : smau where y/n and charles always ‘argue’ and make comments against each other on socials, leading people to think they actually hate each other (they’re actually best friends and lovers in secret, and sit together giggling as they tweet stupid shit about each other) they admit the truth with a post of them on a date with the caption “… enemies to lovers?”

the grid know they’re good friends but not that they’re going out until the posts, lando would definitely be like “yep i knew it i called it” when he really did not

lots of love!! <3

yourusername

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 73,710 others

An iced coffee a day... (only it's just frappuccino without coffee bc I don't like coffee) 🧋

view all 9,264 comments

user8 you're so real for this, queen

charles_leclerc someone needs to teach Y/N that frappuccino's are just coffee's sugary sidekick

yourusername sorry Charles, I prefer my beverages without a side of bitterness. user2 Am I the only one that feels like Charles and Y/N don't like each other this much? user10 Nope. user1 They hate each other lol

charles_leclerc

liked by user4, user5, user6 and 1,402,618 others

Let the season begin 🏎️ ❤️

view all 62,720 comments

yourusername goodluck, you'll need it 😚

charles_leclerc thanks, good to see you're unable to stay away from my posts 😉 yourusername someone should keep an eye on the chaos you bring to my feed. It's a public service, really. charles_leclerc a public service? I should be charging admission for the entertainment I provide 😘 user7 okay they are UNHINGED

yourusername

liked by user2, user7, user8 and 92,610 others

is it giving 'that girl' vibes? ✨

view all 5,277 comments

user4 YES IT IS 😍

charles_leclerc you're such a StarBucks addict 🧋

yourusername says the guy that's addicted to having a cup of espresso every morning

user10 wait, how does she know? user6 OMG what if they are dating? user2 lmao, they hate each other, I doubt they are willingly hanging out together

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, user2, arthur_leclerc and 104,175 others

no cap needed 🌎 ✈️

view all 9,610 comments

user1 liked by Charles AND Arthur? I thought they hated each other?

user3 Why do I feel like we're gonna get mind fucked, they are playing a game and we're all losing 😶

user9 I'm obsessed, girl you're living our dream 😩

user5 where are you going???

yourusername 🇯🇵 ❤️ user6 THE JAPAN GP? OMG

user2 hold up, no Charles x Y/N banter in the comments?

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, scuderiaferrari and 126,710 others

@charles_leclerc have to admit, I would make a pretty good WAG 💋

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user9 OMG OMG OMG OMG

user6 WHAT IS HAPPENING OH MY LORD

charles_leclerc if only you would choose F1 over soccer 😘

yourusername I'll come back to you about that in a week

one week later

yourusername & charles_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, f1 and 2,516,470 others

Enemies to lovers?...

Took you a while to figure that out, happy 2 years baby ❤️

view all 74,571 comments

charles_leclerc I love you ❤️

yourusername I love you more ❤️ ❤️

landonorris yep, I knew it, called it

charles_leclerc no you did not, you tried to hit on her 😂 yourusername you could learn something from his flirting skills tho, at least Lando didn't ask me if 'falling down from heaven hurt' 💀 charles_leclerc It worked though, didn't it 😉

user1 TWO YEARS ALREADY?

user7 that sixth picture though 😩 ❤️

user8 I want what they have 😍

a/n: thank you for sending in the request sweety! It really means a lot! Hopefully you’ve enjoyed it! As I mentioned before, I will have a small break. I’ve got 3 requests in my askbox atm, but if you have an idea for a story, don’t hesitate to hunt my askbox again and send it in. I’m not 100% sure when I’ll be back exactly, but it shouldn’t be too long. Lots of love 💗

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poeticpascal · 10 months

Text

I've Got You (Dbf!Joel Miller x Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: When a date set up by your father goes wrong, your secret boyfriend and Dad's best friend races to protect you.

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, attempted sexual assault, abusive language, reader's date is a tory prick, soft!dom!Joel, blowjob, unprotected sex, use of pet names.

A/n: So... this is my first time writing smut. I am super proud of this one, so please let me know what you think! Requests are open so for more Joel/Pedro action, you know where to find me x

Dating your Dad’s best friend is hard. And stupid. Really, you have no clue why either of you thought this'd be a good idea. But you were so far down this path now, so entangled in late night meet-ups and whispered phone calls and unspoken thoughts that sounded a lot like ‘I love you’, that it was too late to turn around and steer the sinking ship of this utter mess back to shore.

More than anything, you hate not having any normalcy with him. You can’t fall straight into his arms after a hard day. You can’t cuddle into his side with a bowl of popcorn watching crappy weeknight telly. You can’t go to the store together, holding hands and making him laugh as you insist on buying a flavour of ice cream that you know he’d love. And it sucks.

Because everyone said Joel would never be one to settle down. He’s too wild, too rough to fit into a polished little box like that. And you’d thought the same. Until you fucked him, then fucked him again, and kept going back until you could see the pain in his eyes each time you left. You could practically feel the heaviness settle in his stomach as you left his bed to sneak back home. It hurts him as much as it does you, and if you weren’t so incredibly in love with him, that would’ve been enough to make you run.

Despite how long you’d kept this going now, a good 6 months at least, it never got any easier. Especially when your Dad started talking about dating. He was protective, but more than anything he wanted to see you happy. So when you suddenly became distant, hiding in your room more often and going out on dates much less, he was concerned. Nowhere near as concerned as he’d be if he found out why you were acting that way, you thought, but concerned all the same.

So when he came home one day, beaming and shouting for you to come downstairs, you thought nothing of it. When he explained there was a new apprentice at his work that he thinks you’d like, you weren’t surprised. And when he told you he’d set up a blind date with said boy, you felt sick.

Because you really couldn’t get out of it. You tried.

“Dad, I just don’t feel like dating right now.”

“Oh come on, you used to have a new date every few weeks. I’m just worried about you. Matthew's really nice, and he likes the same shitty music you do-”

“It’s good music.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I just…” he paused, his worry painted on his face, and there's no way you could’ve said no to him. “Honey, I want you to be happy. I don’t know what’s gotten into you recently” - your best friend, you thought - “but I just need to know you’re okay. So give this a go, for me, alright? And if you have an awful time, that’s it, I’ll never set you up again.”

You sighed. He was right; it’s just one night, one date. One box you have to tick to relieve the pressure that comes from having an affair with your next door neighbour, the one more than twice your age, the one your Dad would call a brother. And besides, your Dad would be working an overnight job, so you’d be spending the night at Joel’s anyway. Something to look forward to.

“Okay, yeah. I’ll go. For you.”

He pulled you in for a hug, tight, and you hugged him right back because you really do hate having to keep this from him. He pulled away, smiling - “great! It’s tonight at 7. He’ll pick you up.”

“You already arranged it?!” You near enough shrieked, but he’d already sauntered off to the kitchen, giggling as he went.

Typical.

So that’s how you ended up here, at 6:55pm, waiting by the front door for Marcus - or Michael, or something like that - to pick you up. Your phone buzzes, Joel’s name flashing on the screen, that alone making you feel that much calmer.

You’d text him as soon as you talked to your Dad, letting him know about the date. He understood, and you loved that about him; he was mature, compassionate, and he was more than secure in the fact that no matter who you talked to, who flirted with you on nights out, who you were set up with… you’d always come back to him.

Don’t worry about tonight, baby. It’ll go quickly. I’ll leave the door unlocked for when you get back. Text me if you need picking up. J x

You smile at his initial at the end - it’s such a Dad thing to do, but it makes you happy, especially when he adds a little kiss. He only does that for you.

The sudden sound of a car door closing snaps you out of your thoughts, Joel’s text left on read as what you assume to be your date heads up the driveway. You take a deep, nervous breath, smoothing out your dress and heading to the door just in time for his knock.

You open the door, take a good look at your date, and he’s… okay. Not unattractive, per se. Though you’d come to accept a little while ago that being with Joel had soured your perception of pretty much every other guy. His dusty blonde hair is slicked back with gel, his teeth are way too white, and he’s dripped in designer clothing that just screams, “I have a trust fund.”

“Oh, hi! I’m Matthew.” Right. Matthew. “You must be (Y/N).” He leans in to peck your cheek, and all you can think about is how smooth his skin is as it grazes yours. Nothing like Joel’s coarse stubble that you love so much - especially when it leaves red patches on your cheeks, and your neck, and if you’re really lucky -

Matthew leans back a little, confused, and you’re brought out of your daydream. “Sorry, yeah, that’s me. (Y/N).”

Well, that was awkward.

You just need to get through these next few hours, you think to yourself, smiling at the boy and letting him lead you out of the house and into his car. You can’t help but glance towards Joel’s place across the street; it looks quiet tonight, though his truck is in the driveway, and as soon as you look up you’re sure you catch the living room blinds suddenly draw shut. You smirk.

──────

The date was going… okay. About as okay as a date you don’t want to be on, with someone you have no interest in, and another man constantly on your mind could go. You could see why your Dad liked him; smart enough, well-polished. His father was a partner in the company, you learned - oh, he’s a ‘Daddy’s credit card’ type you’d thought - and by all intents and purposes he was the sort of guy any parent would hope to see their daughter end up with.

It’s never that easy though, is it?

Because he isn’t rough around the edges like Joel. He doesn’t have his stature, or carry himself with the same brute certitude. You can’t imagine him fucking you up against the wall, working himself up until he’s almost animalistic, somehow using you and worshipping you at the same time. And you can’t see him wrapping you up so tightly afterwards, holding you close and whispering how good you were for me, how proud of you I am.

No, only Joel could do that, and that’s how you like it.

The bill comes, Matthew suggests you split it. You don’t mind. He takes out his credit card, flashing it in front of you. “This is my Dad’s. I can use it as much as I want.” He’s smirking like he’s got something to be proud of, and you really had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. Instead you just smile, before paying your share and making small talk as you head out the door and towards his car.

“So, I thought we could head back to my place.”

You freeze. Yeah, no, not gonna happen. He’s got this shit-eating grin on his face, one you knew all too well from past college boyfriends - that’s a boy who thinks he’s getting some tonight. You shudder, wrapping your arms around your waist and trying to sound sincere as you reply, “this has been lovely, but I’ve got an appointment early in the morning” - not really a lie, if staying in bed with a man over twice your age getting fucked or cuddled or both counts as an appointment - “so I’d rather just head home.”

You reach for the passenger side door, but it’s locked. You try again, pulling on the handle, but it doesn’t budge. You realise then that he’s stepped closer, too close, crowding your vision as you turn to face him while keeping one hand on the door’s handle. He leans an arm against the roof of the car, right beside your head, staring you down.

“Oh, come on, (Y/N). I’ve got the house to myself tonight, it’ll just be us. I know that’s what you want, don’t be shy.”

His free hand pinches your chin, his touch aggressive where Joel’s is rough but careful, and he tries to close the already too-small gap between you.

You dodge him quickly, slipping out from under his arm and backing up, away from the car, away from him. Matthew just watches you, incredulous, before laughing to himself and taking a step forward. “Look, baby, I know you want this. What is it, are you scared your daddy’s gonna find out?”

“What? No, I-” you splutter, but he interrupts.

“Get in the car, (Y/N). You don’t have to worry about anyone finding out. I can see the way you look at me, I bet you’re dying to fu-”

A heavy sickness has flooded your stomach, your nerves shot from the sudden escalation of what was supposed to be a quiet, albeit tedious, night. But his words hit you, and before you can even think, you’re shouting back at him.

“You seriously think I want to fuck you? You can’t even pay your half of the bill with your own money. Fuck that. I’ll make my own way home.”

The smug look on his face is quickly washed away with anger, and you continue to slowly step backwards as Matthew follows you. A lick of fear sets in now as the pale streetlights cast shadows on his darkened expression, and you scold yourself for opening your mouth.

“The fuck did you just say to me? Do you know who my Dad is?” - this really isn’t a good time to roll your eyes - “You think you’re too good for me, you bitch? I’ll show you.”

He stalks you, and your eyes frantically dart back to the restaurant you’d just left, though you’d backtracked far enough to be almost at the door again.

People are dining and laughing, some just sitting and watching the world go by. You’re well within their view, and you turn back to see that Matthew’s gaze has followed your own and he’s connected the dots. He can’t do anything in front of them. He locks eyes with you again, scoffing, heading back to his car and loudly shouting something that sounded a lot like “fuckin’ bitch.” Nice.

He drives away; you’re safe, out of the situation, and as the relief floods you the adrenaline does too and tears prick at your eyes. You sit on a small bench just outside the restaurant, dotted with shrubbery and stains from spilt drinks you assume, and take out your phone.

Your last chat with Joel is already open, and you breathe slowly in an attempt to still your shaking hands as you type quickly,

Please come and get me. He was trying to get me to go back with him. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’s gone now but I have no ride home.

The text is marked as ‘read’ almost as soon as you send it, though you receive no reply. You didn’t expect to; Joel wasn’t much of a texter. Like, at all. He was slowly getting used to it, what with it being one of the only ways you could really talk when slipping over to his place was too risky.

In this particular instance, you already knew he’d have read the text, dropped his phone without a second thought and hurried to his truck while muttering to himself what he’s gonna do to the kid, how he won’t see what’s comin’ to him.

Just how badly Joel might react worries you. He’s protective, incredibly so when it comes to you, and that combined with his white hot temper was surely a recipe for some sort of disaster.

Secretly, though, you loved it. And so as you sat on that little bench, frosty air nipping at your skin, you couldn’t help but revel in the warmth that pooled in your core at the thought of what sort of beast Joel would become tonight.

──────

It only takes him around 10 minutes to reach you, and you know for a fact he must’ve ran a red light or two because normally it’s a 20 minute drive at least into town. You stand, walking over to his truck, but before you can hop in he’s already storming out and wrapping you up in his arms, shielding you, eyes darting across the street.

“Where the fuck is he?”

“Joel, I-”

“(Y/N) where the fuck is he? I’m gonna kill that little bastard. Fucking-”

His body is tense, far more so than usual, and anger pours from him in buckets. You pull away to look up at him, his eyes still searching for the boy long gone, and you sigh. “He’s gone, Joel. He left.”

He finally meets your eyes, a cold frown etched on his face, and he somehow looks even angrier than usual. “Did he touch you?” His hands roam your body, searching for you didn’t know what, but you let him do whatever he needed to relax. To know you were safe.

“No, Joely, he didn’t. I’m fine, I promise.”

It usually softens him right up, your little nickname for him. Joely. The first few times you used it, he’d just scoff or roll his eyes, but the small smirk that crept onto his face each time let you know he loved it. Quite how much he loved it was a different story; you hadn’t got together then, though the both of you wanted it, and as your relationship blossomed you became the only one he ever let call him anything other than Joel.

It doesn’t work this time, though, and he remains stern, finally letting you go and searching your eyes for even a hint of anxiety or fear. “What happened?”

“He tried it on, I said no. He tried again, I backed up and made sure there were people watching,” you nod towards the restaurant, still bustling with life. “And he left.”

Joel nods. “You tell him to fuck off?”

“‘Course i did.”

It seems as if he finally lets up then, giving you a proper hug, one arm around your neck and the other around your waist. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, hard, and the tension leaves him. “That’s my girl.”

You squeeze him tight, burrowing into his shirt and inhaling the scent of him that you loved so much. With one arm around your shoulders, he guides you back to his truck, opening the door for you and helping you. He does it everytime, but it still makes you blush, and you’re sure his lips smirk slightly as your cheeks turn red. Worth it.

The ride back to home is quiet, only the sound of his radio and passing traffic echoing between you. He keeps a hand on your knee, always protective, and every now and then you rub your palm over it to let him know you appreciate it. To say thank you.

Joel was never good with words, and you’d learned over the last few months just how much he relies on touch to express himself. To show love. You’d picked up on his habits, his little signs, his way of telling you his deepest thoughts without having to speak a word.

And when you reciprocated, when you wrapped your hand around his, or brushed his side at the neighbours’ BBQ, or kissed his shoulder in the kitchen, you knew just what it meant to him.

Your driveway is empty as Joel turns onto your street - your Dad must have set off for work already. You sigh in relief; you didn’t have the energy to explain all this to him, and certainly not the energy to try and sneak into Joel’s without him seeing.

Joel steps out first, taking a quick look around to make sure no nosey neighbours were watching, a precaution you were both used to by now. He grabs the door for you again, holding your hand and helping you out, holding you close to his side as he unlocks the door and you both slip inside.

“What do you want to drink?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

He pauses, looking at you, concerned. ”No. You need somethin’ to drink. You need to- to lie down, or somethin’.”

You follow him into the kitchen as he stalks past you, not giving you time to answer and filling a glass with water and ice. “Drink,” he hands it to you.

You take it, thanking him and sipping as he watches. It’s sweet; he cares about you, so much, and when he looks at you like this you can’t help but feel butterflies swirl in your stomach.

“I’m sorry.” It’s almost a whisper, so quiet you wouldn’t have heard if it weren’t so still already in his house.

“Hm?” You look at him, confused.

“I’m sorry he did that to you. S’not - s’not right. I mean, shit, what if you couldn’t get away?” He was spiralling.

“Hey, hey. Joel, it’s okay. I’m okay.” You set down the glass and take him in your arms. He calms, instantly, holding you tightly against him and cupping the back of your head with his hand.

“You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”

“I know.”

He sighs. “I just wanna protect you, honey.”

“I know.”

He pulls back to look at you, framing your face with his hands and running his thumbs along the edge of your cheekbones. You lean in, letting his lips capture yours in that sweet but desperate way that only Joel can, and moan into his mouth. He slips his tongue against yours, letting one arm fall to your waist as his hand lingers around the hem of your jeans.

The kiss becomes desperate and you reach for his belt, your arousal becoming unbearable as the memory of him so full of anger and protectiveness spins in your mind like a carousel. He breaks the kiss and you groan, chasing his swollen lips with yours.

“We don’t have to do this.” His southern drawl is slick with need, his eyes closed as he rests his forehead against yours. The moment is so sweet, so intimate, that any thoughts of what had happened today were long gone and your mind was full with sweepings of him.

“I want to.”

He grunts, pushing himself further into you so his nose brushes yours like a cat. So much so, you almost purr into him, and it makes you giggle. You curse yourself as he pulls back, cocking an eyebrow and giving you that stare you’d come to know all too well; you’re a pain in my ass, it says. But the corners of his lips turn upwards, and you step forward so you’re once again pressed right up against him, pressing gentle kisses to his jaw.

“You’ve had a big shock today, sweetheart,” he sighs.

You know he’s given up. You know he needs this as much as you do. But you humour him, and tip his head down so you can kiss his lips again.

“So make me forget.”

It snaps something within him, and you shriek as Joel sweeps you up in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist in instinct and your head burying itself in his neck. He laughs at the sound you make, something you’d always known to be so rare for him, but that he does far more often now he has you.

He carries you upstairs, gripping your thighs with his large hands, and the way he holds you so easily just turns you on more. He kicks his bedroom door open, all but throwing you on the bed and watching as you bounced softly on the sheets, undoing his belt that was already half-opened by your shaky hands.

“On your back. Lay your head towards me.”

You did as he said immediately, though your movements were slow, languid. He let you take your time; a part of you thinks he likes to watch you move for him, the way you put on a show, keeping your eyes locked on his and your lips slightly parted and puffy from his kiss.

You lie on your back, your head dangling off the edge, looking up at him upside down. The hard outline of his cock is just centimetres above you, swollen already, and your desperation to taste it must’ve shown on your face because Joel groans out a soft, strangled “fuck.”

“You need this cock, baby? Need your throat fucked?” You just nod rapidly, desperate for him to do something other than just stand there and watch you, your arousal becoming unbearable. Joel seems to break, too, pulling down his jeans and boxers and gripping his hard length in his hands.

It’s big at the best of times, but from this angle, his balls level with your eyes and his cock the only thing you can see when you look up at him, it’s painful how bad you need him.

You’d only discovered this position recently, on a night you’d spent at his place while your Dad was away with work, not unlike tonight. Joel had been floored, consumed with pleasure as the stretch of your spine made it so easy for him to slide himself through your mouth and down your throat, the muscles tensing around him and drawing his release much sooner than he’d have liked.

He slides the head of his cock over your lips, painting them in his precum. You whine, lapping at his taste, desperate but you know better than to lift your hands off the bed. No, you give him control, and he lavishes it.

“Open up, babygirl.”

You comply, parting your lips and moaning as Joel pushes inside, giving you no time to breathe. You try to control yourself, inhaling through your nose and letting your muscles relax before he bottoms out, his groin almost entirely covering your face and your throat full of his thickness.

It’s filthy, degrading, resigns you to nothing but his to fuck and use as he wants.

You love it.

“Such a good girl, baby. So good for me, ain’t ya?” You can hardly even nod as your tongue flicks along a particularly swollen vein. He begins to move, pulling out almost entirely before slamming his cock back into your mouth. You moan again, and it hurts, in that delectable way that’ll spend the next few days reminding you of this moment.

Joel’s got one hand on the wooden foot of the bed, keeping himself steady. The other finds its way to your neck, and he stalls as he feels his cock beneath your skin, rapidly pushing in and out. He moans your name, his hips rocking into you harder and harder, chasing a release you knew he wouldn’t let himself have just yet.

You’re completely at his mercy now, too consumed by his scent and his touch to think, and you hardly register him reaching for your hand and taking it in his own. He starts to mumble, and you only catch a few words - “my good girl. My girl. So- so fuckin’ pretty for me.”

He swells, your tongue working faster against him, his hand squeezing yours and his legs faltering when he suddenly pulls out and stands back with a whimper. Your eyes are glazed over, your sore throat misses him, and your pink swollen lips are trying to say something but you’re not sure what. It feels like his name.

“Come on, pretty girl, come here.” He sits beside you on the edge of the bed, wrapping his big arms around your back and guiding you into his lap.

His fingers dance over your entrance, collecting the slick that soaked your thighs before pushing a single finger inside, revelling in your arousal. He admires you as you squirm, rolling your hips against his hand, desperate for more and moaning against his lips.

It’s almost embarrassing how easy you unravel for him, and if it weren’t for your utter infatuation for the man, you’d have hidden your pleasure and at least tried to hold onto some sense of dignity. But you were obsessed, addicted to him, and he knew it. Because god, was he addicted to you, too.

He kisses you, letting another finger slip inside and catching your hiss with his mouth. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, opening his eyes to look at you, his cock twitching against your thigh.

“Tell me what you need, angel.”

“Y- you, Joel. I need you. Please.” You hardly register yourself saying the words, but they do the trick, as Joel removes his fingers and instead lines the tip of his cock with your soaking wet entrance.

“Please, please, fuck me. Fuck-”

He snaps his hips upwards, driving his cock into your cunt and you gasp as he stretches you. You grip at his shoulders, sure to leave marks, but you know he loves it.

He sets the pace, guiding you to bounce on his cock as his hips snap upwards again and again, fucking you so hard you can almost see stars.

His head is buried in your neck, kissing and nipping at the delicate skin, and you try to regain some autonomy and roll your hips side to side making him mewl.

“So - oh, fuck - so good baby, keep doin’ that.” He spurs you on as your breathless moans and the heavy slap of skin on skin fills the room, lewd but addictive.

The pace is brutal, unforgiving as your thighs tremble and you wonder if he’s feeling the burn of his movements. If he does, he doesn’t show it, just ramming into you and moaning your name against your ear.

His hand falls from your waist and finds its way to your clit, making you gasp as he circles his thumb around the spot. The near pornographic moan that falls from his lips as you roll into his touch is nearly enough to make you cum right there, but you know better than to cum before he tells you to.

Instead he hoists you further up, giving him better control of your hips, and angles his cock so it hits that perfectly raw spot deep inside you that has tears in your eyes.

“I- I’m gonna-”

“I know, baby. Just hold on for me. I’ve got you.” You cry at his denial, though it’s quickly forgotten as he flips you over onto your back, his head still tucked under the crook of your neck, his cock still buried inside you. He resumes his fast pace, reaching even deeper inside you with your legs locked around his waist, and you moan so loudly you worry someone’s going to hear you.

Joel doesn’t seem to care as he pulls back to look at you, marvelling at how utterly fucked-out you look for him. His pace starts to falter, each thrust more desperate than the last, and he frantically pushes his tongue into your mouth as you moan in unison.

“Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock, that’s it.” You release on command, crying out as waves of pleasure spread like fire through your body, and the uncontrollable spasms of your orgasm make Joel groan as he spills inside you, still rocking into you and carrying both of your highs.

He doesn’t let his cock slip out of you as he wraps an arm under your back and rolls onto his side, holding you close as he brushes the matted hair away from your forehead and replaces it with a soft kiss. You hum, snuggling into him and trying not to gasp at the feeling of his cock inside you while you were still so sensitive. He can see you flinch and smiles, though he just wants you to rest for now.

“You okay, babygirl?” You just hum again, but he taps your chin and you look up.

“Answer me, angel.”

“I’m good. Tired.”

Joel nods, running his hand through your hair and agreeing, “me too.”

You’re quiet for a moment, almost dozing off as the heat that radiates from him lulls you gently to seep, when he breaks the silence again. “What’s his name?”

“Hm?” You reply, too fucked-out to really understand what he was saying.

“That little asshole. What’s his name?”

He’s looking down at you, brows knitted together, and you just sigh. “It doesn’t matter, Joel. He doesn’t matter. I promise.”

“But-“

You cut him off with a kiss, and the tension that built in his shoulders is quickly dissipated. “No ‘but’s. Get some sleep.”

“Aright,” he resigns. “I love you.”

It slips out, sudden, and he freezes before he realises the joy that’s spread across your face from his words. It’s the first time either of you have said it, and the way your eyes light up are enough to let him die a happy man. You nuzzle his nose, your hand gently lay on his chest, your eyes falling shut again. “I love you too, Joel.” He wraps you up tighter, grinning, happy. In love.. “And no asking my Dad, either.”

He scoffs, “I wasn’t going to!” You just cock a brow, eyes still shut, and though you can’t see him you know he’s rolling his eyes. “Let me get you cleaned up, sweetheart.”

He pulls out of you slowly, making you wince at the loss, and sits up on the bed. When you can still feel his weight beside you, you crack an eye open to see him quickly typing something on his phone, and you frown. “Joel?”

He startles and drops his phone, turning to you and kissing the top of your head. “Sorry, baby, I’m going - just gimme a sec to get you a warm cloth.”

As he leaves for the bathroom you snatch his phone, already knowing what he’d done. Your Dad’s name is at the top of the screen, the chat from just moments ago still open:

What’s the name of that kid (Y/N) went out with?

Matthew Wicks, he’s the new apprentice at work. Why?

Just wondered.

You’re weird, man.

Joel creeps out of the bathroom, frozen as he sees you lock his phone. He offers a small, guilty smile, quickly wiped away as you grab his pillow and playfully launch it at his chest.

“JOEL!”

──────

Thank you so much for reading! As ever, comments and weblogs are so appreciated, and please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in my future fics!

#dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel x you #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x yn #dbf!joel x reader #dbf!joel #joel miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x yn #pedro pascal #tlou fic #tlou show

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margotw10bis · 3 months

Text

Cold Hearted. JJK [m]

hockeyplayer!Jungkook x figureskater!reader

Genre: one-shot; smut; romance; e2l

Words: 13.7k

Synopsis: It's no secret that you absolutely hate Jeon Jungkook, the captain of the hockey team. But you hate him even more when you are forced to share the same ice rink.

Warnings: some violence (pushing during hockey games and one punch is thrown); fingering; unprotected sex; oral sex (m. receiving); use of the words 'slut' and 'whore'; spanking

"But why?!" You loudly whine

Even the holidays season with its merriness, its cinnamon and brown sugar scents and its family gatherings cannot soothe your disgust. You were so happy this morning when you woke up and saw the landscape painted in white with the thin layer of snow. You have been in a good mood all day long — which your big Christmas sweater witnesses since you wanted to share your cheerfulness when you put it on.

And now, Jimin is looking at you with pitiful eyes. You know he is as upset as you are, maybe even more since he is the president of the Figure Skating Club of your college. You might not be the president, but you're the vice-president and every member of the club knows that you'll take Jimin's lead when he graduates. Ever since you stepped foot on campus, you have been truly invested. Your whole life has been dedicated to this sport, it even allowed you to get a scholarship for Seoul University.

"It's just for a couple of months" Jimin tries but it does little to soothe you

"I won't negotiate with those neanderthals" You state, crossing your arms against your chest

"Stop being overdramatic"

"I'm not! All they do is smashing each other against the walls and flow a stupid ball into the goal!" You exclaim

"It's a puck, Y/N" Jimin corrects

"Tomato, tomato" You wave his comment off "They are fucking stupid!"

Jimin stays silent for a few seconds, knowing that there is nothing he could say to ease your anger. It's no secret that you can't stand the hockey team. They are just a bunch of brainless guys trying to hurt each other just to mark a goal. It's barbarian. It's just the exact opposite of the delicacy and art of figure skating.

But what you hate the most about the hockey team, it's its captain: Jeon Jungkook. The guy is simply obnoxious. It's the typical kind of guy that thinks his social popularity allows him to do everything he wants, including mocking others. He is an idiot and his handsome face only makes him more irritable to you.

That is why you refuse, with all you have, to share the ice rink with him. Even if it's just for a few months. Even if it's for shooting a k-drama with your favorite actor. It's just too much to ask and you know that you will end up strangling Jungkook to death by the end of this situation. And you are not risking your future for such a little fucker.

"Please" Jimin begs with his flirty face, immediately making your face redden

Park Jimin knows damn well how good he looks. And he surely knows how to use it. His bleached hair is to die for, his eyes are hypnotizing and his lips... gosh, how can he have such kissable lips? He can be so appealing, knowing exactly what to do to win your heart. You try to look away but Jimin catches your attention again by gently grabbing your hand.

"I need you. You know I can't to do it without you" He purrs with his oh-so-sweet voice

You purse your lips but you both acknowledge that you are losing this battle.

"Please, do it for me" He adds

His eyes shine so brightly that your heart stops a bit. Fuck... He is good.

"Okay..." You sigh, earning a perfect smile from Jimin "But I won't make any efforts with Jungkook and his jerk team. You'll be lucky if I don't murder any of them" You warn

"Thank, Y/N! You're the best!" Jimin exclaims while hugging you, deciding not to care about your threat because he knows that you will, in fact, do everything you can for the club

♡❆~❅~❆♡

It's with a choked throat that you enter the ice rink today. Usually, it's the best time of the day because, when you are skating, you feel free. You feel like nothing matters than your skates and your moves express everything you can't put words on. You have been skating since you were three because your mom was a former Olympian in that very same sport. Of course, she was strict with you but she always gave you the choice to keep going or to stop. But you didn't. When you were happy, upset, or sad, you put your skates on and slit on the ice. After entering Seoul University, it was just natural to join the Ice Skating Club and you haven't regretted it one bit.

Until now.

You are so mad and grumpy at the idea of just seeing Jungkook. And you are even madder when you know that you'll have to act civilized because Jimin is not here and you are the one representing your club.

You are lucky enough to be the first one here. You make sure your skates are well-attached and start your warm-up. You even succeed in slightly relaxing when more members of the Figure Skating Club join you. And since it has been more than fifteen minutes, you even think that the hockey team won't show up.

Well, that's what you thought until you hear some shootings — similar to monkeys when they find food — and you witness the players entering your sacred place. They are wearing their hideous hockey jersey and acting like the stereotyped jocks they are.

You feel your whole body tensed and you stop your track, waiting for Jungkook to be his usual self, that's to say a prick. And you don't have to wait long for it...

He slides gracefully towards you, his helmet under his arm so his stupid face is at full display, and you cross your arms against your chest, clearly notify him that you are not in the mood for bullshit.

"Hello there, sunshine" He greets you with a wild smile, certainly trying to lure you but it doesn't work and you raise a brow "It looks like we have a problem" He continues with the same smile

"Oh really?" You ask

"You see" His voice has become softer and the goosebumps running on your skin is a sign that you won't like his next words "We need to train for the championship so you need to postpone your... thing"

This little bitch.

Jungkook clearly doesn't care about your club, not even taking it seriously. Your fingers tickle with the willing of slapping him.

"How sad, we arrived first" You fakely pout "I guess you have to postpone your thing. Toodles"

You wiggle the tip of your fingers to bit goodbye and turn around. Jungkook stands speechless one second but he is quick to grab your arm.

"Wait!"

You throw a death stare at his hand on you and he immediately takes it away.

"I think you don't understand, we need to win the championship" He explains, a little more stressed

"I think you don't understand. You are on our practice time but we have still welcomed you. You are not the only one training for a championship, Jeon. If you don't respect our club, you are free to train somewhere else" You bite back

"Come on, you can't possibility think that dance skating—"

"Figure skating" You rectify with a frown

"Whatever. You can't possibility think that it's more important than hockey"

Your mouth open in shock and disbelief. You are ready to slap him but, fortunately, Nayeon interferes. She is always sweet and the fact that she is dating one of the hockey players might help. She tries to make Jungkook understand that your club and your activity is as important as hockey — to a personal level for the members but also for Seoul University because you are competing for the Asian Universities Figure Skating Cup. You would like to tell Nayeon that she's wasting her time because Jungkook is too stupid to understand that but you stay silent and throw harsh looks at the captain — which he ignores completely.

You are boiling with anger, so much that your body trembles. You knew that you couldn't act pacifically with those neanderthals and that it would be impossible to share the rink. You knew it but you are still angry, furious that Jungkook despises your club so much. How can he think that he is better than you? That what he does is more important than everyone else? You know exactly how he is, yet you still had some hopes that he would act civilized...

You see red when you notice how he is trying to charm Nayeon and that's enough for you.

"Listen to me, you douche" You bark

Jungkook is shocked by your anger, you can see it on his face — widened doe eyes and opened mouth. Surely, no one must have dared to speak to him like that.

"Rather you accept to play only on the half of the ice rink which, to be honest, is very generous from us, rather you find another place. I'm sure it's simple enough for you to understand that, right?" You notice the captain opening his mouth to protest but you don't give him the time to speak "Right now, you have pissed me off so much that I don't want to see your stupid face. So get out and come tomorrow if you are ready to act like a decent human, with an apology towards us"

Jungkook can see in your eyes that nothing will make you change your mind and leaves, downhearted. His team tries to make him fight but he silences them with a mumbled 'we'll practice tomorrow'.

When the ice rink is free of hockey players, the other figure skaters of the club join you and thank you for defending them. You smile brightly at them and finally you start your training.

♡❆~❅~❆♡

A lot of things have changed the next day. First, the film crew has settled all its equipments. Even during competition, there are not as much lights, camera supports and so on as right now. Someway, it's a little bit impressive and you grow excited at the idea of meeting the main actor.

But the second point drives all your happiness from your body. The hockey team has learnt its lesson and they have arrived early. Shoutings and rough sounds of the puck being stricken fill the usually peaceful ice field. You sigh, already tired by the future conversation you'll have with Jungkook — during which you'll probably loose braincells.

"Sunshine!" Jungkook yells with a bright smile that only seems fake, you can see it even with his helmet on

You wince at the nickname. It feels like he is making fun of you and you surely don't like it.

"As you can see, we arrived first so, following your rules, you have to go"

You are speechless. And Jungkook seems so proud of himself. Is he fucking serious?!

"Are you crazy? You know damn well why I told you to leave yesterday!" You throw at him with anger

"It's just the way you say it works, sunshine" He fakes ignorance

"Stop with the stupid nickname!" You snap

"But it suits you so well" He pouts and you want to slap him in the face 'So I guess you have to go. Toodles"

The captain mocks you by doing what you have said and done yesterday but only this time, Jimin is here. While you are trying to convince yourself that murder is not the solution, Jimin talks with the hockey team. He has always had everything a leader has. He can stay calm, even when you are ready to explode. And his peaceful nature seems to work because after a few minutes of negotiation, he turns around and waves you to come.

It has been decided that you'll share the ice rink, each one of you having one half of the rink. However, on Thursdays, the hockey team will access the whole rink, and on Tuesdays, it will be the Figure Skating Club. You just know that you'll have to do your best to ignore the hockey team, which is not easy when all they do is yelling like four-year old kids.

However, after two whole weeks of this agreement, no murder has been committed — which is a Christmas miracle. Jungkook is still growing on your nerves but not speaking to each other certainly helps. What helps too is that you are trying to do a technical figure and you have spent days concentrating and doing it over and over again. However, your efforts are poorly rewarded because you still can't do it.

You sigh, nod at Jimin's advice and prepare to try again. You clear your mind, concealing all the noise around you and visualize the movements your feet have to do. You are ready, you can feel in your bones that, this time, you will succeed. You open your arms, start sliding to increase your speed and at the exact right time you are willing to jump, a sharp pain in your butt stops you.

It's like someone has pushed you and you fall heavily on the ice. You growl in pain, your eyes watery at the painful spot on your left asscheek. Oddly enough, the pain is precisely located.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Nayeon asks with worried in her voice

You don't have time to answer because someone else arrives next to you. Someone you clearly don't want to see.

"Sunshine, are you okay? I'm so, so sorry!" Jungkook apologizes but it only makes you madder "Where are you hurt?"

He then puts his gloved hand on your ass like it was nothing. Your cheeks burn with wrath — and only wrath that's for sure.

"Get your hands off of me!" You yell

When you turn around, you hiss as you sit down because it's so fucking painful. The hockey puck next you informs you of what has just happened.

"Are you fucking stupid?!" You let your anger spill through your mouth "Can't you see that the goal is on the other side?!"

"I'm sorry, I swear I didn't want to throw it this way" Jungkook explains

"And you think you are ready for the championship" You mumble to yourself but the captain can hear it too

You stand up, Jungkook willing to help you but you wave his hands away, pretty harshly if you have to be honest. However, you welcome Jimin's help. You two slide on the ice until you can take off your skates. It hurts like hell and you can't sit. If you didn't hate Jungkook already, you would surely do by now. You can't believe that someone can be so stupid and dangerous. You are angry, even more when you know that you were about to succeed in a figure you have been trying for days! Tears of frustration — that you present as pain for the club because of your ego — roll down your cheeks.

Jungkook looks at you with a pout and sorry eyes. He really didn't mean to hurt you. He wanted to catch the puck, slide between two players and throw it into the goal with a awkward but technical angle. He hasn't planned on losing balance and throwing the puck while he was fighting not to fall. His heart has stopped when he noticed the puck fly away, and even more when you fell on the ice. He knows that the puck is painful, that is why hockey players wear so much equipment. But you didn't have any. Only your black legging with a light skirt and a thin but warm wood long sleeve t-shirt. He has no doubt that it hurts like hell. And he has no doubt that you are not ready to soothe your hate for him.

♡❆~❅~❆♡

After going back to your dorm, you head to the bathroom. You want one thing: take a hot shower. But the huge bruise on your butt is as painful as it is ridiculous. You mumble all kinds of insults towards Jungkook and the whole night is necessary to soothe your anger.

However, your mood alters when you spot the said captain running to you the next day as you are heading to class. It's too early in the morning to deal with idiocy, but thankfully your wooden beanie and your large scarf hide your face. Maybe Jungkook won't recognize you — but you are not that lucky. The cold weather of December numbs you, that's certainly why you don't directly yell at Jungkook to fuck off when he stops in front of you.

His usual cocky smile is nowhere to be seen — oddly — but a worried eye adores his face.

"How are you?" He asks

You sigh but answer that you are fine nonetheless.

"Y/N, I'm really sorry. I bought you this"

You give him a curious look while Jungkook bowsers through his bag. After a few seconds, he hands you a tube of ointment.

"It's the brand I use for wounds. It works very well, so your bruise will gone in two days" He explains and he seems sincere

"Thanks" You lowly say as you take it

You do appreciate the gesture but you are not ready to show it to him. In fact, it's just showing that he is decent human and knows that he has done something wrong. You give him a quick smile and escape because this civilized conversation with Jungkook is so weird. You are used to roll your eyes at his stupid cocky behavior or snap at him when he does something that makes you mad — which happens a lot. But you are definitely not used to talk to him with a quiet pleasant topic. It's so strange that you spend the entire morning with a frown, replaying again and again your interaction and not playing much attention to your professors.

And universe doesn't let you rest because when you step into the ice rink, your heart stops: freaking Kim Taehyung is here. He is way more handsome than on TV and you wonder how it's even possible. His brown fluffy hair, his perfect face and his bright smile... He looks like a prince and you can't help your cheeks from blushing.

You keep your eyes on him but discreetly approach Nayeon and whisper:

"What is Taehyung doing here?"

Even if you are whispering, your excitement is noticeable on your voice — and maybe also in your eyes that are sparkling.

"The crew said he wanted to meet us and apologize for the inconvenience" Nayeon explains

Jesus Christ, you can't believe that Kim Taehyung is right there. Your heart beats so fast, you're not sure how you are not dead yet. But your beating heart stops when the said actor turns around and looks at you. You gulp while he offers you the most beautiful smile that you've ever seen.

You look like a deer caught in the headlights when Taehyung walks toward Nayeon and you. Gosh, he is so handsome...

"Hi"

How can his voice be so attractive? Deep and warm and sexy. Almost like he were singing jazz. And he has said one syllable.

"Hi" you reply with automatism because your brain has ceased functioning

Sadly, Nayeon is required by Jimin, which leads to an one-on-one with Taehyung and you are not sure you can survive it.

"It must be hard to change your practice schedule for us" He says with concern

"I think we have made it work. Actually, it's an honor to have such a big star here" you reassure him with blushed cheeks

"Still, I've been told that you had to share the rink with the hockey team... Those are not ideal conditions to train"

You fight pursing your lips out of disgust at the mention of the team, especially because it reminds you of Jungkook.

"We have found an agreement" you simply declare because there is not much acting you can do to pretend not being mad at this situation

"I'd like to do something to apologize"

You look at Taehyung with a surprised look. You wonder what he means. He is one of the most popular actors, what would he apologize? Especially to you? Once again, your brain flies towards Jungkook, and Taehyung's thoughtful behavior proves that the hockey captain is just a boor. Taehyung would have every rights to simply not care and let success go to his head but he doesn't. However, Jungkook thinks his pitiful popularity in University is enough to allow him everything...

"If you accept, I'd like to invite you for a cup of coffee" Taehyung asks with his sweet voice and you almost faint

"I— It's—" you stutter with so hot cheeks that you wonder how you are not melting yet "I would love to"

"Great!" Taehyung exclaims with his perfect smile, clapping his hands at the same time, and your heart skips a beat at this handsomeness "I'll wait for you at the end of your practice, is that okay?"

You frenetically nod and watch Taehyung leave. What the hell has just happened?! You must be dreaming because oh my god, Kim Taehyung, the actor every girls are in love with, has just asked you for a.... A what exactly? Isn't it a date? Oh lord, you have a date with Taehyung!

It's just perfect that it's Thursday because Jungkook and his ice hockey team aren't there to mess up everything.

♡❆~❅~❆♡

Taehyung has proved himself as a gentleman. Just like he has promised you, he was waiting for you and you went together at one of the hype coffee shops of Seoul — the one you can read about in tabloids because idols go there. It was so perfect and Taehyung was so sweet. Honestly, it felt like a dream.

Unfortunately, all dreams have an end. The very next day, you were back to your usual average life, fighting the urge to murder Jungkook because he was acting like a pretentious dick — nothing out of the ordinary to be true. And for a whole week, you haven't seen Taehyung.

Except that you are now practicing with the Figure Skating Club, still sharing the ice rink with the hockey team and yelling from time to time when they try to cross the line — literally. Everything is like usual, except for one little — huge — detail: Kim Taehyung is leaning against the side of the ice rink and he is fucking looking at you. Your brain stops, pretty much just like your whole body to be honest, causing you to almost fall. But it's not the worst because you are hypnotized by Taehyung. He is even more handsome than the last time, wearing a black leather jacket with a black turtleneck sweater. The simple yet sexy look is to die for.

You take the time to look at him, not caring that you are still sliding on the ice until you bump into someone. And of course, it's Jungkook.

If you didn't hate him this much, you would have thank him for catching you and prevent you from falling and hurting yourself. But you can't feel any thankfulness when you feel so disgusted at the idea of him touching you. You harshly push away his hands.

"Hey, a simple 'thank you' will do" He rebukes you

You roll your eyes and think that this interaction is over but Jungkook has a different take on it. His eyes lift up and he notices a guy he has seen before behind you. He can't quite put the name on him until it hits him: it's the famous actor you can see in all those k-dramas!

When Jungkook realizes that you were lost in deep thoughts because of this actor, a playful smirk paints his face. He makes sure to take off his helmet to fully let you appreciate it. He lightly shakes his head to give some fluffiness to his black locks that were caged. If he weren't so arrogant, you'd say he is cute. You know, at the very first second you see his wry smile, that you won't like what follows.

"You have found yourself a cute little boyfriend, sunshine" He boasts

"This is none of your business, Jungkook" You reply with gritted teeth

"But I should at least greet him, don't you think? Now that we are close friends" He teases you

You just have time to open your mouth in order to threat him, but the hockey captain is already sliding away. You start to panic and slide after him but the conversation between Taehyung and Jungkook has already begun. This is a nightmare! Why won't Jungkook let you live?

You arrive just in time to hear Jungkook says:

"Y/N is quite something, she is a real pain in the ass"

You see red. Okay, it's official, you are going to kill Jeon Jungkook.

Not only he dares to make fun of something he did — throwing a fucking puck right on your butt —, but he also use it to belittle you in front of Taehyung. This is exactly why you hate Jungkook. He is just mean for no reason and he takes pleasure in hurting people. Moreover, he thinks that's cool to do that.

You waste no time and grab him by the collar of his hockey jersey. You give an apologetic smile to Taehyung who seems to be half-amused half-ill-at-ease by Jungkook's stupid acts.

You drag Jungkook to the locker room and throw your skates away with wrath. Jungkook seems unbothered while he mimics you and calmly takes his gloves off.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" You yell at him "Why would you even do that?!"

"Oh come on, it was a simple pun and you know it" He tries to down play

"Maybe I know it, but Taehyung doesn't! But it doesn't change the fact that it was mean"

"You act way meaner with me, sunshine" Jungkook states with a frown, suddenly more serious

"Stop with the nickname!" You say while you don't calm down "And, just for your information, I won't ever try to belittle you in front of someone you're interested in"

"Oh really? You're interested in him?" Jungkook teases you as he steps dangerously closer and pokes his inner cheek with his tongue "Let me tell you that you are delusional if you think that Kim Taehyung cares about you"

You are taken aback his harsh words but even more by his harsh tone. You have always witnessed Jungkook speaking with an obnoxious playful tone, even when he is saying mean things. But it's the first time he is speaking to you like he was mad. Real mad.

"We went on a date..." You manage to say lowly, almost like you were trying to defend yourself because you have done something wrong

"A date?"

Jungkook bursts into laugh, a laugh that clearly states that he is mocking you. Someway, it hurts.

"You are living in a fantasy, Y/N. Taehyung won't ever take you on a date"

"And why not?" You snap back, quite offended

"Because this Taehyung guy doesn't know how to deal with a woman like you. You're too much for him" He replies with a raspy voice that makes you shiver

"I'm too much for you" You play tit-for-tat

"Hum... I don't think so"

Jungkook takes a step closer. You can clearly see the mold on his nose and the one under his lips. And those lips... They suddenly seem so appealing. And the two rings shining catch your eyes, making you stare at his mouth more than you should. Jungkook is surely handsome, even with his little scar on his cheek that you haven't noticed until now. His black doe eyes are harsher than usual but his frown and his clenched jaws are hot. You have never been this close to him and the atmosphere is so dense.

It would only take you to move a few inches further to press your mouth onto his. However, you don't have to do it because Jungkook does.

His kiss is rough, full of the hate and all the despise you feel for each other. You both growl into each other's mouth. Your hands go up to tug on his hair and his hands harshly squeeze your ass. None of your gestures is sweet. A surprising wave of arousal fills your body. Even though you hate Jungkook, his touch on you feels good. So fucking good.

The messy kiss doesn't stop, even when Jungkook pushes you against the door. The hardness of the material makes you moan, especially when Jungkook abandons your swollen lips for your neck. His wet kisses are nothing like gent but you don't want him to be. You didn't know you liked being kiss like that until now and the thought panics you but you easily put it aside because only Jungkook's lips on the thin skin of your throat count.

You tug harder on his black hair, making him growl against you, when his sneaky hand reaches your crotch. You are so deep in the fog of pleasure that you can't think straight. Your pussy grows impossibly wet when Jungkook starts drawing circles on your covered clit. Your usual practice black leggings certainly help to feel his finger on you.

"Oh fuck..." You groan but immediately bite your lower lip because there is no way you'll let Jungkook know that you love what he is doing to you

"I would have kissed you sooner if I knew you'll shut the fuck up" He teases you with his sexy deep voice

You wish you could reply at that but your mouth falls wide open because Jungkook's hand find its way underneath your leggings and panties. You gasp at the coldness of his digits against your burning and wet pussy. His touch is magical and your legs don't support you anymore. You have to grab his shoulders but you can't feel his strong muscles because of the hockey outfit — which you curse against in your mind.

He presses hard against your clit while drawing delightful circles. It's so fucking good but it's not enough, which your clenching pussy makes you know. You start grinding on his hand and you hate yourself for having so little control over your body. You're pathetic, you know it. Yet, you want to stop.

Jungkook drifts his tattooed hand lower, which allows his rough palm to press against your sensitive bud. However, it's worth it when his long digits trace the outline of your dripping hole. Fuck, it's so... You don't even have the words. The delicacy of his touch drives you insane and you just want him to fill you with his fingers. Surely, Jungkook must take pleasure at seeing you so desperate.

You whine and buckle up your hips at the faint hope to slide his digits inside you, but Jungkook is having none of it. He lands a kiss on your burning throat and whispers into your ear:

"Tell me what you want, sunshine"

Suddenly, the nickname doesn't irate you. Quite the opposite actually because you feel your walls tightening around nothing — which is driving you insane.

"Fuck me" You answer with a shaky and weak voice

You don't even recognize yourself but you don't have time to realize it because Jungkook takes a fat lap from the base of your neck to your earlobe, at the exact same moment two of his fingers enter you.

"Oh my god!" You moan as your head rolls back and hits the door

Your walls are swallowing and welcoming him. It's perfect. The stretch is just perfect. And the pleasure is the most perfect one. The contrast between your hot pussy and his cold digit only increases your arousal.

Jungkook starts his pumping slowly but deeply. You have no doubt he can feel how you love it. The whole scene is scandalous and you have never been this audacious about sex — you are getting fingered in the fucking locker room for God's sake! Yet, you don't care.

When Jungkook enhances his pace, your poor cunt throbs around his fingers, urging him for more.

"Your pussy is so tight" He growls against your cheek but he pecks you rather sweetly — a strange contrast with his fingers into you

His free hand wraps around your neck and your walls tighten.

"Fuck, you love that, don't you?" He awes at you "You love being fucked like that, uh?"

His dirty mouth... His smirk is as exasperating as sexy. You won't give him the satisfaction to answer — honestly, you don't have to considering the wetness between your legs. You rather grab his black hair and put him into a kiss so he shuts up.

You feel yourself getting there. Jungkook's fingers pumping you and curling to hit your sweet spot are doing wonders. Jeon Jungkook is fucking you with his digits in the locker room. The exact same Jeon Jungkook you hate.

The realization makes you panic and you suddenly push him.

"Stop!" You yell

Jungkook immediately halts his movements and pulls his hand out of your panties. You feel disgusted of yourself at the arousal noticeable on his fingers.

"Did I hurt you?" He asks with worry

You hide your face into your hands with shame but Jungkook starts to panic, really thinking he went too harsh on you and your poor little cunt.

"Shit, I'm sorry" He tries to soothe you with a gentle voice but he actually makes things worse

When you look up at him, he gulps. You're not hurt, you're furious. Against you, against him. The only remaining of your — fucking hot — sexual interaction is your burning cheeks and the wetness between your legs.

"This—" You speak as you mention between you and him "—never happened. If you tell anyone, I'll kill you"

You run to the bathroom and lock up yourself. The cold water you splash on your face definitely helps for your cheeks but not for your dignity. You feel horrible. You can't believe you have let Jungkook finger you.

♡❆~❅~❆♡

Christmas is getting closer and closer. However, you are not in the mood this year. You usually love this season. It reminds you of the very first time you've put some skates on because they were your Christmas gift when you were four. You are usually so excited. Not this year. Because you have let Jungkook touch your most intimate part.

You have done your best to avoid him, even when he has tried to talk to you. You just couldn't stop replaying the scene over and over again in your head, cringing at it every single time. Why did you do it? You hate Jungkook. Then why? Were you so angry that you were ready to ease the tension by all means? Or were you simply attracted to— No way! As you said, you hate Jungkook, you are not attracted to him. Never.

However, it has been getting hard to believe when you were on another date with Taehyung and all you could think about was the stupid hockey captain. And it made you feel so guilty. So many women would kill to talk to Taehyung — fuck, you were one of them don't so long ago. It makes you hate Jungkook even more, because he is changing you and, you're not going to lie, you're scared.

All this thinking is a little too much for you, that's why you have decided to skip practice today, hoping that Jimin won't resent you. Your absence at the ice rink explains why you have absolutely no idea what is going on at the very same time.

For Jungkook, it is quite a usual day — despite his eyes looking for you every two minutes. Ever since your... moment in the locker room, he hasn't been able to put his head in the game. And his teammates have noticed it too. He lied, saying that the upcoming championship was stressing him but the truth is that he just can't stop thinking about you.

He used to find you annoying, a smartass who thinks she is better than anyone else. To be honest, Jungkook knows you're smart but he has to say, you have a shitty temper. He loved making fun of you or pushing your buttons. That's until he saw how serious and rigorous you were with practice — something he can rely to. Until that, Jungkook thought that figure skating was easy, a kind of game. But he saw you and your club. Saw the technic and the art. And he found you so beautiful, even if you were still fucking annoying.

When he kissed you, he wanted to punish you for not looking at him the way he was looking at you. As egoistical as it might sound, he just wanted you want him. Because he surely wants you — even though he is not really about the reason. He understood it when you mentioned Taehyung. Jungkook was used to think no woman deserved him but now, he is afraid he doesn't deserve you.

All the frustration makes him growl and he has no choice but to take a break. He needs to get some air. He doesn't take off his hockey equipment completely but abandons his skates, his gloves and his helmet. The cold hits him when he steps outside. Today is colder than the other days and if Jungkook believed in signs, he would think that it's an echo of how he is feeling inside.

Lost in his deep thoughts, he hasn't noticed the person a few feet away from him, until he hears the mention of your name. His head tilts up and he discovers, with annoyance, Taehyung speaking on the phone. The actor hasn't seen him yet and keeps up with his conversation.

The feeling of jealousy Jungkook is experiencing quietly turns into something else. Anger.

"No, I don't really care about her" Taehyung says, a cocky smile on his handsome face "I'm just having fun. Come on, this girl is completely whipped for me, I could ask her everything. A little scandal is always good for the promotion of new projects. I was thinking about fucking Y/N and make a sextape"

The airy laugh that follows is enough for Jungkook to head toward Taehyung. He doesn't think twice, his steps completely guided by a boiling wrath. The actor doesn't even have time to realize what is happening: he is grabbed by the collar of his coat, turned around and he receives a harsh punch right on his face.

A growl of pain espaces his mouth and his nose instantly starts bleeding, which only adds to the pain.

"What the fuck, man?!" His yell is fainted by the hand he has put on his nose in a vain attempt to stop the blood

Jungkook's eyes are even darker than usual and Taehyung can see a willing of murder in them. The jaws of the hockey player are as clenched as his fists, certainly ready to punch him again.

"You're a fucking asshole" Jungkook replies with gritted teeth "If I see you around Y/N again, I'll make sure no one recognize your face" He threatens

He turns around, leaving Taehyung in pain and flabbergasted by what just happens. If Jungkook doesn't leave, he might keep his new promise just now. It's not until he is back in the locker room that the pain in his hand reaches his brain. He hisses when he notices the bruised knuckles but the anger is deeper than the pain right now.

♡❆~❅~❆♡

Just like every year, Seoul University has organized a small party with all the athletes. The goal is to keep them motivated — but mostly put some pressure on them so they're cost-effective for their scholarship. Until this year, you have managed to escape it but since you're surely take the lead of the Figure Skating Club next year, you have to be there. It's not that horrible: you get to wear a nice dress and have access to free food and drink. You'll just have to smile a little bit to the Head of the University, thank him for his trust and then, you'll be back home.

The 'annual athletes party' is kind of a pride for your college because all the young people attended it are great in their disciple. One of the best of the whole country. And you do feel proud too when you think about that, you are just not so fond of showing and celebrating it like this.

The mansion of the Head of Seoul University — where the party takes place — is beautifully decorated with Christmas colors. Green, red and white are everywhere to see and a huge Christmas tree — that would certainly make Santa Claus jealous — stands in the middle of the reception room. You have to say that you like the Christmas spirit coming from the party. And you are surely not the only one since pretty much everyone is well-dressed, a lot of them covered in green or red even though the majority of men is wearing black suits. You too have shown your Christmas colors with a emerald green turtleneck and ankle long dress. It's truly elegant with the bright red lipstick on your mouth.

You greet some of friends from the Volley Ball Club, appreciating having time to catch up since your schedules are completely different. You congratulate Roseanne for the gold metal her team has won last month and she assures you that you'll have the same soon, after the Asian University Figure Skating Cup. Her kindness warms your heart but you suddenly tense when you spot one particular person.

You gulp and your cheeks take a red shade in no time. To be honest, you've never seen Jungkook wearing a suit before but he looks so damn confident in it — and so damn hot too. His long black hair is slightly pushed back, offering a great view on his perfect face. He looks really good, like a star. You wouldn't be surprised if someone from an agency appeared right now and offered him to join a k-pop group as visual.

When your eyes lock, you feel the usual wave of panic you have been experiencing since the thing — the fingering — in the locker room. However, you feel the need to talk to him. You have to because you won't survive the next weeks at sharing the ice rink if this tension between Jungkook and you doesn't fade away.

Jungkook seems to understand your inner reflection and your unsure steps are thankfully stopped because he comes to you.

"Hi" He says and his neutral tone is not helping

"Hi"

Your voice is raspy because of your stress. You triturate your fingers, which doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook who sighs.

"Can we talk?" You ask, even though you know the answer

Jungkook nods and you two walk towards a calmer spot, close to the stairs. After a few seconds of silence, Jungkook speaks.

"Look, I'm sorry" He says, more gently "I shouldn't have... done this"

"It takes two people to do this" You reply and your words surprise him

Jungkook honestly thought you'd yell at him, saying he is stupid and annoying and inconsiderate as usual. He didn't think you'd take your fair share of responsibility — even though he doesn't resent you because he was the one who kissed you first.

"I think we let this thing get out of control" He tells you with a faint blush on his cheeks that makes you think he is ashamed of it

"Jungkook" You start and saying his name without annoyance feels weird because, for the first time, you realize that it's a beautiful name "What is done is done. I was there with you, I didn't push you away when..." You feel your cheeks burning and you lower your voice, almost murmuring "you kissed me"

You spot a strange look in Jungkook's black eyes but you are quick to look away. You clear your throat and continue:

"Let's just forget. We both have a lot of things going on and we know that we need to focus, for the sake of our teams"

The silence you are facing is quite embarrassing, especially because you absolutely don't know what Jungkook thinks. You surely have spoken wisely but you also know that the hockey captain is not the definition of wise...

"You're right, we should forget about it"

You lift up your eyes. The tone he used... It was way too light, even for Jungkook. He is surely hiding something. And you know you are right when you notice the tiniest smirk on his pieced lips. He casually puts his hands in his pockets. He looks like the usual idiot he is, except that you now find him hot.

"However..."

Here it comes.

You knew he had something going on. You wonder what idiocy he is going to say. You are feeling a mix of scare and eagerness — the latest one is definitely new when it's about Jungkook.

"There are things we can't forget about. Like tradition"

A playful grin paints his face but you wonder what he means by that, until he lifts his head up and invites you to look at the ceiling and fuck. You cannot believe a fucking mistletoe is hanging right above you. You certainly haven't seen it before, otherwise you would not have chosen this spot — or would have you?

You gulp and send an unsure eye to Jungkook who only stares at you with his stupid smile. Is he serious? He can't be. He must be playing with you. But he slightly scoots closer and lowers his head. You can smell his cologne and gosh, it messes with your brain. Another organ is affected by Jungkook's flirt: your weak and treacherous heart. It begins to do all kinds of funny things in your chest.

You look straight into Jungkook's eyes, trying to see if he is mocking you but he looks dead serious and you can only gulp, again. He gets closer again and your bodies almost touch. He is close enough for you to feel his warmth. Your inner battle continues unabated. It's not a good idea to kiss him, especially after what happened.

Yet, you want it bad. Real fucking bad. You know how his lips feel on you, you know how he kisses, you know you'll like it, love it even. And it's almost Christmas, isn't it the right time to do things you love?

This last thought sells you on your decision. Your hands go up to settle on his large shoulders that you finally get to feel underneath your fingertips. You stand on your tiptoe and you bring him closer to you. His breath is warm on your lips and you just can't wait to kiss him. Who would have thought that you would die to kiss Jeon Jungkook? Certainly not you.

Right before you can fulfill your wish, Jungkook is getting snatched out of you. You stand there, completely speechless as two policemen handcuff him in the back. You don't understand what's going and the hockey captain doesn't seem to know better. Everyone is looking at him and at you but you can't care because it must be a sick joke, or a nightmare.

"Jeon Jungkook, you are arrested for assault" One of the police officers states before reading Jungkook's rights

What the hell?!

They are heading to the front door and you force your feet to move, running after them.

"Wait!" You exclaim "It must be a mistake!"

"It's not ma'm and your friend knows it, right boy?"

You look at Jungkook, full of hope that he'll tell you that you are right and they are wrong. Jungkook is stupid, arrogant, even mean sometimes but he is not violent. You wouldn't have let him kiss you otherwise. However, Jungkook sends you an apologetic eye and he lets the policemen taking him away from you.

♡❆~❅~❆♡

What just happened?

This is what you wonder the entire hour following Jungkook's arrest. Even the word makes you shiver. Obviously, the whole hockey team has driven to the police station, trying to know what happened and how they could help their captain. You wanted to go too — the reason being indeterminate — but Jimin convinced you it was a bad idea. It's just that, with your temper, you would have probably end up insulting a policeman and get arrested too.

A whole day has passed. You have been waiting for practice all day long. You even rushed to the ice rink after your last class, but only to find the place empty. It was impossible for you to concentrate of your routine so you gave up and waited for the hockey team to arrive.

You almost don't notice them because there are no shoutings and cheering announcing their arrival as usual. They are silent and — you can't believe you're saying that but — you hate it. You don't like that they are not in a good mood because it means it's bad for Jungkook.

You run to Mingyu, a hockey player and a great friend of Jungkook. He is the one who must know the most of things. You don't waste time on greetings and directly ask about the captain. The first reaction you earn from Mingyu is a desperate sigh and your heart squeezes.

"It's not good" He starts to explain "He has been accused of punching a guy and breaking his nose. Jungkook said it's true"

"Is he going to get out soon then?" You question with hope

"Yeah, in a hour or so. But he'll have to wait for trial. The other guy wants an apology to find an agreement and drop the charges, and of fucking course Jungkook refused" Mingyu growls with frustration

"Why Jungkook doesn't want to?"

"I don't know, he is stubborn" Mingyu sighs, his annoyance clearly noticeable in his voice

You understand Mingyu. You can't believe Jungkook is refusing to say sorry! It's stupid! He was the one who punched someone, he should apologize no matter what. He is ready to go to trial just not to hurt his pride! It's ridiculous!

"Who is the guy he's punched?" You ask

Mingyu looks at you with eyes widened by surprise.

"You don't know?"

You shake your head to say no. How would you know that?

"Kim Taehyung"

♡❆~❅~❆♡

Furious. It's what you are feeling after your conversation with Mingyu. You knew that Jungkook wasn't fond of Taehyung, that he didn't really appreciate you hanging out with the actor — even though it was none of Jungkook's business. But you didn't think that he would punch him! For what? Jealousy? It must be that because you have never seen them talking. There is nothing else Jungkook could be upset about.

But yeah, even though you are furious towards Jungkook, it doesn't mean you want him to go to prison. You have done a little search last night because you couldn't sleep, way too worried about a certain hockey player. He could go to prison for a year. Even if his sentence is softer, he would still lose all his chances at turning pro. Everywhere he'd apply for a job, it would be noted, clear as day, that he has been convicted.

You don't really know why you are so affected by Jungkook's doom. One month ago, you would have done everything you could to avoid him and now... you are ready to what? Fight for him? It is ridiculous, you hate him. But the more you say that to yourself, the more it feels like a lie.

Maybe that's why you have met with Taehyung, trying to make him drop the charges. Are you ready to drop your ego and apologize to someone for something you didn't do just because of Jungkook? It seems like it. You aren't pleased to do it but it is nothing compared to the way your heart clenches at the thought of him going to prison.

You are a little but shocked when you see Taehyung. He looks... ugly to you. Well, you still can spot his handsome features, even though half of his face is covered by the large white medical patch he has on his nose. It's not even that that makes him ugly to you, it's his eyes. They are harsh and cold, reminding you of a snake.

"How are you?" You ask gently, trying to push away the unpleasant feeling of his coldness

"How do you think I am?!" He snaps back at you "Look at my face! He broke my fucking nose! Do you know how much money I'm loosing right now?"

You tense at that. Is money more important than someone's future? Jungkook is risking it all. Taehyung, on the hand, might be losing money but you know damn well he has enough of it for a few years, a few decades even. And even though you are feeling a dull anger building up inside you, you focus on the reason of this meeting.

"I'm sorry Jungkook punched yo" You say, a little less soft than before

You only earn a scoff from the actor, making you nervous to ask for a favor.

"I know it was wrong, I really do" You start carefully "But could you forgive him and drop the charges? I know Jungkook must feel bad about hurting you, I swear he is not violent"

"Are you serious, Y/N?"

You gulp. Taehyung hisses like a snake.

"I want a fucking apology. On his fucking knees. Don't you think that I at least deserve it?"

You understand that the apology is necessary. You would want one if you were in Taehyung's shoe.

"I'll talk to him. If he apologizes, you'll drop the charges, right?" You ask with a weak but hopeful voice

"Yeah, sure" He answers with a distant tone

Getting arrested and spending twenty-four hours in custody is definitely not an experience Jungkook would recommande. He is tired and he wants to be alone now that he is free. Well, not so free because, as the police officers told him, there is a high chance he is going to prison for a few months.

His parents wanted him to go back home but, to be honest, Jungkook didn't want to face his dad's disappointment and his mom's hopelessness. He rather stays at his dorm and thinks about what he is going to do. Surely, no pro teams would recrute him. What will he do? What kind of jobs accept ex-con? Certainly not the ones he was aiming.

You lift up your head when you hear steps echoing the hallway. Jungkook didn't except to meet you in front of his dorm door. Normally, he would have teased you and would have made a bad joke about you were desperate for his dick if you were ready to wait at his dorm, but he has no energy for that.

"What are you doing here?" He asks with a sigh

It's painful to witness his exhausted face. It's even more painful not to see his usual stupid playfulness in his eyes. You used to hate it but now you miss it.

"Jungkook, you need to apologize to Taehyung" You notice how he tenses at the name "I talked to him, he will drop the charges if you say you're sorry"

Frustration grows in Jungkook while he opens his door. Does he have to repeat himself once again?

"Well, I won't apologize"

"Don't be ridiculous!" You scold him as you follow him inside his room

It's just as you've imagined it: full of trophies and photos with friends. Not so neat but not dirty at all. Just some mess here and there. It's a nice bedroom though: enough place for his desk, closet, bed of course and also a little couch. You easily can imagine Jungkook and the hockey team hanging out here with pizzas. Jungkook's dorm being the most recent one on the campus, he is lucky enough to have his private bathroom with toilets and shower — something you are jealous about.

"Listen, I'm tired and I want to be alone" Jungkook cuts you off, running his hands in his messy hair as he sits on his bed

"Are you seriously willing to give up your life, your future, everything for your pride?!" You yell at him, frustration exploding inside you

"This is not about pride, Y/N!" He yells back "I was right to punch him and I would do it again if I had to. I am not apologizing"

"You are stupid then" You state with your arms crossed on your chest

"Fucking leave then" He snaps back with a harsh tone

You stay silent for a while, quite hurt by his words even though you could understand that he was not the most patient person right now. It was just normal after being arrested.

"Do you really want me to leave?" You ask with a weak and gentle voice

Jungkook looks at you, noticing some hurt in your eyes, and then sighs.

"No, I'm sorry"

"It's okay" You assure him while you are sitting next to him on his bed "I'm sorry too. I just don't want to you to go to prison" You explain and wrap your arm around his large shoulders, which is not easy to do

Jungkook grabs your comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezes it lightly. The coldness of his fingers are somewhat heartbreaking. Was he cold when he was in custody? Was he treated good?

"Why?"

The question is simple, yet the answer isn't. Why are you so worried about him? There is a simple explanation but you are just not ready to confess it. Not to him, not to you.

"You're my friend" You simply answer

You both know it's not true. Jungkook and you are not friends. Ennemis would be more accurate. Or was more accurate. What are you now?

Jungkook scoffs at your words. The proximity between your two bodies is dangerous. His dark eyes are too intense, his face is too close and he is just too appealing. You gulp and scoot away.

"Why are you suddenly nice to me?" Jungkook asks but it sounds like a reproach

"What do you mean?" You frown

"You always treat me like an idiot and now, you care about me? Why?" He presses, suspicion well noticeable in his voice and it takes you aback "Because of Taehyung?"

What?

You are as surprised by assumptions as by your absence of thoughts about Taehyung. The actor hasn't crossed your mind once. How can it be possible when your brain is filled by Jungkook himself?

"Come on! You have been all over him ever since he has stepped foot here! You think I haven't heard you talking about him with your friends during practice?" He says harshly, clearly blaming you as if you had betrayed him

"Taehyung has nothing to do with that!" You defend yourself but for Jungkook, it sounds like you are defending Taehyung

Once again, he scoffs and stands up, which you mimic. Jungkook is mad, that's for sure. For what? That, you don't know. But it irritates you that he is pushing you away while all you want to do is help him.

"Of course!" He chuckles with sarcasm "You just want him to be out of trouble, right? That's why you want this whole story to stay quiet!"

"You are talking non-sense! You are the one acting like a dumb-ass just because you don't want to apologize!"

You are starting to get angry. Jungkook is back to his usual stupid self and it drives you mad, not because he irritates you but because his life is at stake.

"And I won't apologize!" Jungkook points out, crossing his arms against his chest just like he was daring you to make him change his mind

Your growl with frustration.

"Why don't you understand that I'm not doing this for Taehyung?!" You yell

"Because you fucking came all the way here to ask me to fucking apologize! Why would you do that if it's not for Taehyung, uh?"

He won't understand. He won't believe you, not matter what you say. You get that now. You are so furious — at him for not believing you and at you for not finding the right words — that your eyes get watery. There is only one thing you can do to make him understand.

You grab the back of his neck and pull him down to press your lips on his. Jungkook tenses at first but when your tongue asks the access of his mouth, his body relaxes and his hands find their way on your hips. You scoot closer, holding him tight because he was so roughly taken from you yesterday. You are now afraid that someone snatches him again and you won't allow that.

You tug on his hair and Jungkook squeezes your ass as your kiss gets heated. It's messy but full of emotions — which ones being unsure to you. Jungkook guides you towards his bed but you resist a little, just to take off his sweater and t-shirt underneath.

Fuck, he is too hot. As an athlete, you knew he had a great body but seeing it... It brings all kind of butterflies in your belly because Jeon Jungkook is definitely a hottie. His shoulders are large, his biceps are huge and his abs... they look so delicious that you want to lick them. He is even sexier with his tattoos.

However, you don't have time to admire him because Jungkook wants to see your body too. He helps you slide your coat off, and your pullover. Your bra joins the slack of clothes in no time. You moan when Jungkook cups your boobs and you shiver because his hands are cold. You arche your back, inviting him to wrap his mouth around your nipples. He doesn't go softly. He is rough but you like it. You feel like a pool of arousal in your panties, it's almost embarrassing.

Once again, Jungkook's hands find their way to your ass, squeezing it to the point it hurts. You replicate by pulling on his hair and you both growl in each other's mouth. When he tilts his head so he can suck on your neck, your hands travel South, not forgetting to caress his brawn torso, to reach his pants and unbutton his jeans. You know don't when or how he got to change his clothes but it doesn't matter because they will be gone soon.

You pull on his pants, urging Jungkook to get naked. As he is taking care of his clothes, you clumsily throw your UGGs away before ridding off of your leggings. Jungkook and you are only covered by your underwear and fuck, he is a sight... His bulge is clearly noticeable and oh my god, he seems huge.

"Take that off" He says with a raspy and sexy voice and you execute

If you think that Jungkook is a fine piece, the hockey player is completely whipped right now. You are so beautiful, all naked in front of him. He doesn't even know where to look because you are perfect everywhere.

He steps closer, caging you so you have no choice but to step on his bed while he is still standing in front of you. His plump and pinkish lips are great but you want to taste more of him. You get on all fours to be at the same level as his dick. When Jungkook understands what you are willing to do, he curses and bites his lower lip. He watches you sliding your hand in his brief and reach for his hard length. It's your turn to curse when you free his cock and finally witness how big he is. It's intimidating but you are one to accept challenges.

That is why you waste no time and wrap your warm mouth around his tip. A salty dry of pre cum lands on your tongue and you hums in delight. Your right hand rests at his base so you can take more of him easily. You love how your mouth feels wide opened for Jungkook. You love it so much that you quickly push your gag reflex. His tip hits the back of your throat, yet you can't take him entirely in your mouth — that's how huge Jungkook's cock is.

He is looking at you with fire in his eyes. You are so fucking hot like that, especially when you look up at him with those innocent eyes while his cock in your mouth. The saliva coating your lips are a sin and Jungkook's hips move automatically, pushing deeper in your throat.

"Fuck, you are so good" He praises "A good fucking slut, right?"

You nod as you can't speak with his dick stuffing your mouth, completely lost in your pleasure. You have no self-control on your body right now and your juices drop down your inner thighs. You want to touch yourself because of how turned on you are. Jungkook too look at your whole body and his eyes land on your ass. Perfect, tempting — especially when your arche your back to suck him off. A loud slap falls on your asscheek, provoking a long moan from you around Jungkook's dick. His tattooed hand rests on your butt and pats it before harshly grabbing it.

"Please fuck me" You beg when your pool of arousal is too much to take

Jungkook pushes his cock back in your mouth, so deep that you choke on it, and slightly bends to slide one finger in your pussy. It feels so fucking good. His middle finger is pumping you at a fast pace, making you lose your last remains of reason. Your walls tighten around his digit like they want to have more, to be more stretched. And Jungkook might understands because he provides a harsh dick stroke to your mouth — hot and naughty gagging sounds fill his room — and pushes a second finger in your cunt.

Drool escapes your lips, coating your chin and Jungkook's balls, the exact same way your arousal drops from your throbbing pussy.

"You look like a fucking whore" Jungkook says but it looks like a compliment with his raspy voice My good whore, right?"

You don't see his face but you have no difficulty to imagine his cocky smirk. You want to bite back to him, arguing that you're not his whore but actually, you are... You are sucking his cock like a maniac because Jungkook surely and slyly makes you want to please him. You don't know how but despite your — former — hate toward him, you have this need to be close to him and let him access everything of you. Maybe because you also want to access everything of him.

You let go of his wet and large dick to take big cups of oxygen but it doesn't mean that Jungkook slows down his pace into your pussy. He even goes faster. You moan loudly before gripping his sheets with your fists and pressing your face down into the mattress. You strategically keep your ass up for him to finger you as much as he wants. Your cunt tightens, and it's worse when Jungkook uses his free hand to slap your asscheek. You gasp and clench around him.

"Are you going to cum for me?" He teases you, an arrogant pride so noticeable in his voice that you would like to deny your building orgasm just to prove him wrong but you can't

"Faster!" You ask

The hockey player grants your request, shaking your whole body through your poor little pussy. He goes so fast and so hard that you are not sure you'll ever be able to walk again. You can feel in your stomach that you are close. Your fists tighten around the cotton fabric of the sheets and you mutter your groan by burring your face.

"Cum, go on, be a good girl and cum"

Fuck, he is good with his words — and with his fingers. As he is pounding into your pussy, you can feel the knot in your stomach growing bigger and bigger until you explode, moaning something that looks like Jungkook's name. Your whole body shakes and your toes curl because Jungkook doesn't seem to want to stop. He prolongs your orgasm as long as he can, making it last for some long seconds until you can't take it anymore.

Your body jolts forward on its own to escape the overstimulation, earning a laugh from the hockey player. You are panting and trying to reach down to Earth. While you are in the fog of your sexual high, Jungkook takes his brief off completely and lays down on his bed. He gently pats your ass — on which he can notice slight red marks due to his spanking — and smirks. You are used to intense physical efforts and yet, you look completely drained.

"Are you going to survive?" Jungkook mocks and you throw a death stare at him

You have your strength back and you are not willing to let Jungkook makes fun of you. He looks so arrogant, laying on his bed with his arms crossed behind his head — you try to ignore how his posture accentuates his biceps and his abs. We'll see who laughs last laughs longest.

You straddle him, resting your knees on both sides of his hips. Your boldness makes Jungkook's smile lightly shakes. He is so cocky sometimes but he is not the only one who knows how to fuck. It's your turn to smirk and you do what you wanted to earlier: you lean down and take a big lap of his abs. You gloat when you feel his muscles flex under your tongue. When you reach his pecs, you suck on his skin and paint it with a purplish mark. You kiss it to soothe the pain away but you are sure that Jungkook didn't hurt too much because you clearly felt his dick throb between your legs during the hickey process.

"Did you lose your tongue?" You tease but you are answered by slap on your ass

An embarrassing loud moan escapes your mouth. You won't tolerate that. That's why to strongly grab Jungkook's cock at its base, squeezing it a little bit too much which causes a growl from the tattooed man, and sink on it. You breathe deeply and you slowly sit down. He definitely feels big. Both Jungkook and you have lost your smirk because you didn't except so much pleasure.

"Oh my god" You whisper

At the same time, Jungkook curses 'You are so fucking tight'. You support yourself on his torso, not moving yet because fuck, he is so big. It even cuts your breath. You try to regain your senses but you don't have time for that: Jungkook presses his feet on the mattress and uses his strong thighs to push his hips up. He gives you rough dick strokes, at a quick pace. Your moans are covered by the sinful sounds of your clapping skins.

"Fuck, Jungkook" You groan, falling on his torso

Jungkook's arms wrap around your frame, making sure you don't jolt too much because of his poundings, and he fucks you hard and deep. His cock slides perfectly into your cunt, coated with your arousal, and his balls slap your ass. It's perfect, that's for sure and your walls clench.

"Shit, don't do that" He scolds you but it's not like you can control your body's reactions to pleasure so you clenche even more "You little slut"

"You fuck me so good" You confess and you don't know why but your words spur Jungkook to give you a gentle kiss on the top of your head

You are surprised by the tender of his gesture while his cock bumps your pussy so harshly. You lift up your head, look at him. He is cute with his cheeks all blushed because of his efforts. You press your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his neck. You want to melt into him and Jungkook seems to want the same thing because his embrace tightens and he slows down his pace. His dick slides deep inside you, with passion, just like he was making love to you.

At that thought, you panic a little and you straighten up. You place your hands flat on his stomach and jump on his length. You have to take things under control — both the pace of your fucking and your emotions that are going wild. Your ass hits his lap every time you let yourself down until you take all of him inside you. Your head rolls back under the pleasure. You have never felt so full before. You fasten your pace, your tits bounce and your lungs burn due to your insane riding.

"Fuck, you are taking me so good" Jungkook praises and you hate how much your cunt clenches because you like it "You are a good girl for me, right sunshine?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

You have never loved the nickname this much. Your eyes fall on his face. His doe eyes are slightly opened, like he was stoned. Your heart beats faster in your chest and you know damn well it's not your physical efforts that cause it. Especially when Jungkook's fingertips softly caress your cheek. You are so glad that he can't say you blush like crazy because your face is already red.

"Kook, I—"

You stop talking when his free filthy and tattooed hand pinches your nipple. You are surprised and so pleased. You whine and alter your riding which gives a great opportunity to Jungkook to take control again.

"You are going to cum"

It's as much a promise as it's an order. You knew he was dominant but you didn't know that you would like it in bed. Your moans leave your lips a little shaken because of the harshness of Jungkook's poundings. Your cunt grabs his dick so tightly.

You don't know how it's possible but he quickens his pace. You don't know if you can survive it. It's just too fucking good. Jungkook grabs and squeezed your asscheeks, spreading them to fuck you deeper. His finger are too deep in your flesh that you'll have bruises for sure.

Your pussy throbs and you know that you are close. You shut your eyes close and whisper how good he feels. The way his length sketches your walls and the way it slides into you to hit that sweet spot, it's perfect. And the fact it's Jungkook among all the other men on Earth...

You can't support yourself anymore and fall on his torso, burying your face in the crook of his neck. The thin layer of sweat coating his skin only adds to the hotness of the scene.

"Make me cum" You urge him and he provides

He uses his remain strength to give you some deep and harsh poundings, spurred by some rough spanks on your ass.

"Fucking cum for me, sunshine"

You do. You cum on his huge cock and your juices drip down your inner thighs and his dick. You are so high, definitely on cloud nine. You bite Jungkook's neck to mutter your moans but it only pushes him to fuck you harder. It's a lot to take, the overstimulation is not far.

"Kook, cum" You weakly ask

"Fuck, baby" He growls and pulls off just in time to release his seeds on your ass

It was something. The best sex of your life. Jungkook can be arrogant because he fucks real nice.

You roll on the side, panting. You want to take a shower to get rid off of your sweat and of both your and Jungkook's cum but the hockey captain has other plans: he presses you against his side to cuddle. The sweet gesture reminds you why you were there in the first place. But your throat is dry — surely because you have screamed a lot, but maybe also because you are afraid to stop this little magic moment.

"Jungkook" You start softly "Please, don't go to prison"

You didn't know that words could be so painful. You feel it by the way your throat tightens.

The tattooed man sighs, not angrily like earlier but with resignation. That's when you get that Jungkook has made up his mind and he won't change it.

"Y/N, I won't apologize. Taehyung deserved this punch, trust me. And I won't forget myself if I apologize for something that is right to me" He tells you with a voice so sweet that you want to cry — or maybe it's because you know you will be separated soon

"But it's so unfair!" You whine, your heart squeezed in your chest

"Maybe, or maybe not. I have no regrets because I know I did the right thing and it was my choice so don't be sad, sunshine" He conforts you, caressing your back and pecking your head as you rest your cheek on his chest

You know that you will cry a lot. You also know that, whatever the sentence is, you will wait for him.

♡❆~❅~❆♡

You are waiting, your heart beating loud and fast in your ears. Today, for the first time in two months, you haven't thought about Jungkook. It's been two months since you last saw him, at the trial. He kept his promise and refused to apologize to Taehyung. You have been feeling like dying ever since he was sentenced to one year imprisonment. It was so unfair. You were ready to punch the actor in the face too. And you were mad at Jungkook because it looked like he was simply accepting his fate. You weren't accepting it.

You cried a lot and poured your soul into work and practice for the competition. And today is the big day. The Asian Universities Figure Skating Cup. You have done your best, you have done a very technical figure which surely brought you a lot of points from the jury. But mostly, you haven't thought about Jungkook. For the first day since the trial, you haven't been totally miserable.

And now, you are waiting for the result, the usual tension and stress of the competitions filling your body and your mind. You accept it with thankfulness today. You close your eyes and pray every gods. You want to win. You really, really want it. You are competitive, that's for sure. But you also want to win for Jimin and the whole Figure Skating Club. And mainly, you want to win for Jungkook because he won't ever be able to participate to a competition.

The loud buzzing in your ears doesn't allow you to hear your name when the first place is announced. You stay still until Jimin hugs you tight and whispers 'You have won!'. You still don't believe it when you look around you and your friends congratulate you. It's like a dream.

Did you really win the first place of an international competition? Yes, you did.

A bright smile paints your face and you join the podium next to the ice rink with weak and shaking legs. The gold medal is being put around your neck. You hear the crowd cheering, which is amazing. It's a very strong and emotional moment, maybe the most important one in your life so far. Your club, your university even, will be celebrated in whole South Korea. It's amazing and perfect and everything you have ever dreamt of. You have spent your whole life working and scarifying many things for that, this moment. You have spent days wondering how it could feel to be the winner of such a prestigious competition.

Never you have imagined that you wouldn't be happy.

You are proud, you feel loved, admired but you are sad. Now that the competition is done, Jungkook fills your brain and you are worrying about him. You feel alone while you are saddened by so many people. You wonder if he is okay, if he is beaten up by other prisoners. The tears roll down your cheeks, interpreted as happy tears from everyone else. They are not.

A huge bouquet of flowers is brought to you. It's so big that you can't even see the person giving it to you but it's the most beautiful bouquet you have ever seen. When you take it in your hands, ready to automatically and politely thank the person in charge of that mission, your heart stops and the bouquet escapes your fingers.

Jungkook.

Are you dreaming? What is he doing here? Are you officially going insane? Maybe the adrenaline rush is messing with your brain. However, even if it's just a mirage, you jump into his arms. You are not scared to harshly hit the floor if you have imagined him.

But you never hit the floor. Jungkook's strong arms are securely wrapped around your frame and he hugs you tightly yet tenderly. You cry with your face buried in his neck. You missed him, so fucking much. You would have laughed five months ago, if someone told you that you would miss the hockey team captain so much. And here you are.

"Are you okay? What are you doing here? Are you hurt? Were you treated well? What about prison? Are you free? How?" You throw thousands of questions in a few seconds

"I missed you" He simply replies, like it is explaining everything

When Jungkook cups your face, you finally get to see him. He looks tired but he doesn't look wounded. He is beautiful. So, so beautiful that your heart misses a beat.

You waste no time and press your lips on his. They are cold but you don't care because your whole body warms up. Just like you were stuck into an ice cube during the last two months and you are finally free. You circle his waist with your arms, afraid he'll disappear.

"Don't leave me ever again" You order but your voice is weak and your eyes are still watery

"I won't, I promise" He whispers with so much gentleness that you are not sure you're awake "I'm free and I'll explain everything to you later. Now, enjoy your victory, sunshine"

Sunshine. You hated so much this pet name before because you thought Jungkook was making fun of you. Now, looking into his black and shining eyes, you know that he is not. He truly sees you like his sun. You can see he has fallen in love with you and he is not lying when he is saying that he'll wait for you. You don't even care why or how he went out of jail, he is free and it's all that matters.

Jungkook loves you and...

"I love you" You tell him after kissing him one last time before shaking hands with the jury and the organizers of the Asian Universities Figure Skating Cup, a bright and genuine smile on your lips

Taglist @chimmisbae

Guys, I'm so so sorry for the wait. I've got problems with Tumblr but I'm back 🩷

#bts fanfic #bts #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jjk #jjk x reader #fanfic #bangtan sonyeondan

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sunkissed-zegras · 4 months

Text

✮ 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐩, 𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 | jack hughes

♡ ─ word count | 3.8k

♡ ─ summary | when you and jack had parted ways, somehow you both knew you'd meet again somehow.

♡ ─ warnings | second chance romance!! slight angst (nothing too crazy), fluffy as fuck!!! jack being a cutie patootie, bsf x luke hughes cus why not???? mention of drinking/bars but that should be it.

♡ ─ taglist | | @dancerbailey3 @valluvsu @daisysnhl @dasiysthings @iminlovewithtz11 @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvleyzoe @bowen-power @ru-kru @jackhughesily @hearts-for-luke

♡ ─ ev's notes | okay, so this started off as sweeter than fiction fic but slowly turned into an invisible string fic, but its okay. they both slay and lowkey work well together!!

No matter how hard you tried to forget Jack, you never could.

The moment you both laid eyes on each other, each of you knew it was game over for everyone else. Everyone else was merely everybody else, and the other was just the one. From the first hello to the last goodbye, there was a connection neither of you could fathom.

Jack was more than just your first love or your first everything, he soon became the key to solving all your problems and the keeper of all your secrets. He was the funniest and kindest person you knew, no matter how long you'd been together. That never changed, even after you two parted ways.

It's been almost three years since you seperated but you can still how he made you feel, and all his favorite things: how he liked his coffee, what side of the bed he slept, his favorite soda and how to cheer him up. However, if someone had asked you where he was now, you couldn't tell them.

Well, not necessarily. You knew he plays some NHL team and he was doing what he's always loved, that's all you knew for sure. Some things never change, you guess.

Sometimes, you would wonder if he ever thought of you. Were you just a passing thought or a lasting memory? Did he remember everything or did he forget it? Those questions kept you up at night. But, at the end of the day, you realized that you were happy for him because he was out there, pursuing his dreams. Even if you weren't in those stands, wearing his jersey cheering him on, like he'd always promised.

──

"A hockey game?" You repeated, staring at your best friend Brie. She shook her head, a big smile on her face.

"My friend got tickets a few months ago but he got covid, so he gave them to me. And I knew you were a fan of hockey, so why not?" Brie explained as she leaned back into the couch.

"Not really-"

"Well you grew uo in Ontario so that makes you a hockey fan by association. You're going, end of discussion." Brie sighed exasperatedly, feigning annoyance as a smile enveloped your face. You had no choice now, you had to go.

You couldn't help but chuckle at Brie's determination. She always had a way of roping you into things, and this time was no exception. Despite your initial reluctance, the prospect of attending a hockey game stirred a sense of excitement within you.

A few days later, you found yourself growing curious about the experience. Memories of watching hockey matches with your family in Ontario flooded back, reminding you of the excitement that accompanied each game. One memory stuck out to you, you couldn't remember much but you do remember the warm feeling of his jacket and how your heart was beating- No, no. Focus on the now, Y/N. You reminded yourself as you forced yourself out of your head.

You navigate your way through the big arena and you both finally found your seats, settling in as the game was beginning. Settling into your seat, you let yourself soak in the atmosphere, the sights and sounds of the arena becoming a backdrop to your thoughts and emotions.

The players take to the ice and the game begins, you find yourself swept up in the thrill of the moment. The cheers of the crowd fill the air, each goal and save met with loud applause and excitement. You missed this.

"Y/N, look! That's the one I was telling you about, the one who followed me. Isn't he cute?" Brie spoke with a warm blush on her face, pointing out a number 43. You nodded, watching him glide.

He looked slightly familiar but you couldn't place it. "Wait... Is that why we're here, Brie?"

"What? No. What do you mean? What?" Brie's blush spread to her entire face as she let out a giggle, a telltale sign of her lying. You shook your head with a laugh, of course there was an ulterior motive to coming here.

She let out a sigh and then continued, "Okay fine. He invited me to the game, with free tickets. You wouldn't say no either, alright?"

"Yeah, free tickets are free tickets." You shrugged with another laugh. "Is he cute?"

"You'll see, he told me to come to the bar after the game."

"And I have to come?" You sighed, leading back into the uncomfortable seat of the stands.

"Don't sound too excited, Y/N." She teased as you rolled your eyes playfully. "He has a cute brother and I heard the captain is hot, so... you won't be third wheeling entirely."

"Okay, fine. But what if they aren't cute?"

"This is hockey, babe, there is a very low chance of that happening." Brie said with a big grin as you laughed. That was true, they all happened to be very cute.

With each passing minute, the anticipation grew, fueled by the idea of meeting Brie's acquaintance and his friends. Despite your initial hesitation, there was an undeniable curiosity about what the night held in store.

As the final buzzer sounded and the game drew to a close with another win for the Devils, you found yourself caught between anxious anticipation and excitement. The promise of a post-game gathering lingered in the air, pulling you into its orbit with a magnetic force you couldn't resist.

Brie quickly took you out of your trance, grabbing your hand to rush to the bar. As you entered the busy bar, the atmosphere was electric, pulsating with the excitement of post-game celebration. The air was thick with the scent of beer and sweat as you nervously walked beside Brie to find her friend.

She pulled your sleeve and pointed to a curly-head in the distance before whispering, "That's him."

"Whoa, he's tall."

"I know." She whispered back dreamily as she stared before walking towards him, a confident smile on her face whilst you followed her.

He turned around and your eyes widened. He was familiar, you knew exactly who he was. Luke Hughes, Jack's little brother. Instant regret hit you as you hoped and prayed he wouldn't remember you.

Thankfully, he looked right at Brie with a huge grin. "Oh, hey. Glad you could make it."

He leaned in for a hug and your eyebrows rose, they were already on hugging terms? As they pulled apart, his gaze moved to you and his features changed into a knowing one. You plastered on the best smile you could and silently prayed he didn't remember you.

"Y/N?"

Shit.

But that wasn't Luke's voice, you turned your head to the side to see him. "Jack?"

As the name escaped his lips, your heart skipped a beat, the world around you seeming to slow to a crawl. Time seemed to stand still as you locked eyes with him, the familiarity of his gaze stirring a whirlwind of emotions within you. His blue eyes boring into yours, your heart racing.

In that moment, the weight of the past crashed over you like a tidal wave, memories flooding back with clarity. The sound of his smooth voice, the warmth of his sweet gaze—it was as if no time had passed at all, as if you were transported back to a time when the world was simpler, when your love felt like an unbreakable bond.

For a moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes to only the two of you. Memories of your shared past flooded back, the laughter, the tears, the love that had once bound you together, all laid bare in the space between you.

Jack's expression softened, a flicker of recognition dancing in his eyes as he took in your features. It was as if time itself had stood still, freezing this moment in eternity, the echoes of your past reverberating through the air like a haunting melody.

"Jack, buddy, you're about to spill the drinks." Luke's voice drew both of you out of your trance and back into the present moment and out of your head.

"Yeah, um, sorry. Here." Jack nodded to his brother and handed him the beer as you stared back at him, a troubled expression plastered on your face.

As Jack handed the beer to Luke, the brief interlude allowed a moment of reflection from the intensity of the small exchange. The tension lingered between you, a reminder of the emotions simmering under the surface.

You struggled to find the words to break the silence, the weight of your past weighing heavy on your heart. Each passing moment seemed to stretch into eternity, the air thick with anticipation and uncertainty.

Finally, Jack turned back to you, his gaze searching, as if looking for answers to questions left unasked. The troubled expression on your face mirrored the emotions swirling in you, a storm of conflicting feelings that threatened to engulf you both.

"I... It's been a while," Jack began, his voice hesitant, the words hanging in the air between you like a delicate thread.

"Yeah, it has," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. The memories of your shared past lingered like a ghost, haunting the space between you with their silent presence.

Luke looked a Brie with a knowing look, taking her hand warmly and glancing between you and Jack. "I think me and Brie are gonna get some drinks, we'll be right back."

Before anyone could reject, Luke pulled away your best friend to the bar and she turned around with a sympathetic smile and a shrug. You cursed the younger Hughes as you sighed. Now you have to face Jack alone, without the comfort of your best friend.

You and Jack once again found each other's gaze, staring into each other's eyes with warmth and recognition. His eyes were still as blue as you left them but he looked more mature, facial hair growing on his chin and his hair a little longer but you thought it suited him. But he still has the boyish charm to him, the thing that made you fall for him in the first place. His mouth curved up into a small smile as he watched you observe him.

"How've you been?" His voice echoed and that was another that hadn't changed. You had forgotten his voice on the course of the couple years of separation, you forgot how sweet and smooth it was.

"I've been..." You trailed off, not knowing what to exactly. "I've been good. You?" You settled for a simple answer, not knowing exactly where you stood yet.

"Can't complain." He responded with a shrug, take a sip of his beer. Silence once again filled the space between you as you gazed at each other.

In the absence of words, your gaze held a conversation of its own. The warmth and recognition in Jack's eyes mirrored the emotions swirling within you. For a moment, it was like you were seeing him for the first time again—his features bathed in the soft glow of recognition, his smile warm in the rest of world's darkness. The years had etched lines of experience onto his face, sculpting the contours of his features into something familiar yet different.

And yet, beneath the surface, there remained a sense of familiarity—a connection that defied the time itself and the hurts of the past. It was a reminder of the depth of your shared history, the moments that had shaped you into the people you had become.

You couldn't help but wonder what thoughts raced through his mind, what memories stirred beneath the surface. Did he too feel the weight of the past, the pull of unfinished stories waiting to be told?

"You grew your hair out." He stated softly as he examined your new look. "It looks good."

"Looks like you did, too." You smiled softly and he let out a warm laugh, and it was infectious. The memories, rushed back into your mind at the happy sound and your stomach did a flip. Another thing that hadn't changed, the sweet sound of his laugh.

"Yeah, that's what hockey does to a guy." He explained, his eyes glowing beneath the warm light of bar.

You chuckled, a mixture of emotions swirling within you. "Guess it comes with the territory. You always did love the game."

Jack's gaze softened, a flicker of sentimentality in his eyes. "Yeah, some things just never change, I guess. Hockey's been a constant in my life and I don't think I'll ever stop."

The shared memories of watching games together, the thrill of victories, and the hurt of defeats lingered in the air, connecting you both in a shared history that time hadn't erased.

"I remember how you used to explain the rules to me, as if I was clueless," you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

Jack laughed, the sound a symphony of familiarity. "Hey, but you caught on quick. Besides, it was a good excuse to spend time together."

The mention of spending time together cast a gentle shadow over the present moment, a reminder of the shared past that had once been the foundation of your connection. The complexities of life had woven a tapestry of experiences, leading you both on separate journeys, yet the threads of your history remained intertwined.

"But hey, the hair suits you," you replied, your voice soft with sincerity. Despite the years that had passed, there was a sense of ease in the way you spoke to each other, as if no time had elapsed at all.

Before he could respond, you were suddenly pushed from the back and flew right into the arms. You were shocked and turned around to see a drunk man stumbling. Suddenly, Jack's arm twisted around your shoulder, a protective stance.

"Shit, sorry." He slurred before walking away into the crowd.

The sudden proximity between you sent a jolt of awareness coursing through your veins, the closeness igniting a spark of familiarity that lingered in the air like electricity.

As the chaos of the moment subsided, the realization of how close you two had been struck you with a sudden clarity, leaving your cheeks warm and your heart racing. You both stared into each other's eyes before Jack spoke softly. "Let's go somewhere quieter, yeah?"

With a nod of agreement, you instinctively reached for his hand, fingers intertwining in a silent pact as he led you through the crowd and out into the cool night air. The sounds of the bar faded into the distance, replaced by the soft murmur of the night.

He let go your hand, the cool night air hit the warm area that his hand once was. He gazed out into the night as you looked to the side of his face, a warm feeling filling your body in spite of it being cold outside.

"So, you play on the same team as Luke?" You spoke, breaking the silence between you two.

His lips curved into a smile as he nodded, "Yeah, isn't that funny? We always talked about playing together again but it's cool that we can actually do that now."

You couldn't help but marvel at the twist of fate that brought them together again. The bond between Jack and Luke was woven with shared memories and childhood dreams, all coming true.

"It's amazing how things come full circle," you remarked, a small smile playing on your lips.

"Yeah and Quinn's finally got the captaincy, it's perfect." Jack continued. He looked happy and content with the way things were turning out with his career and his family, it made you happy seeing him happy. "What about you? Anything exciting?" He turned his attention to you, his blue eyes gazing into yours.

You smiled. "Not as much as you, definitely. But I'm about to graduate and get an apartment, all by myself up in New York. Found the perfect one yesterday and I'm driving up there to see it."

"Just like you always wanted, huh?" Jack's smile grew at that. He was comforted knowing that you hadn't changed too much and you were still same old you, despite how many years that had passed.

"Yeah, it's right in the middle of the city, with windows everywhere so I can watch the city move."

Like you had always wanted, Jack thought in his mind with a big smile. "So we are both chasing our dreams, then?"

"Yeah, something like that." You laughed and he joined along. The warmth of his laughter filled your lungs and you felt like you were out of breath just by laughing along with him. It was perfect. The laughter had died down and you both still were locked in gaze.

For a moment, it was as if the world had faded away, leaving only the two of you suspended in the quiet intimacy of the night. The warmth of Jack's presence enveloped you like a comforting embrace, grounding you in the present moment amidst the chaos of the world.

His smile slowly dropped as he kept looking into your eyes. "Why'd we ever break up?"

The bluntness of the question had taken you aback. And you started thinking back to why you broke up. As you searched for an answer, the weight of the past pressed down upon you, a heavy burden that threatened to consume you whole. The reasons for your breakup lingered on the edges of your consciousness, fragments of half-forgotten truths waiting to be unearthed.

You were moving away to college and he was getting into the NHL, the only logical way to go about this about was to break up. Long distance wouldn't have worked and plus, you were both growing up and getting into new worlds, you didn't want him worrying about you while he was out there, pursuing his dreams.

But deep down, you knew that the choices you had made had led you to where you were now, standing face to face with the echoes of your past and the possibilities of the future. The memory of your break-up was clear in your mind, with all the anger and resentment both of you had in that one moment. But something you had said suddenly stuck out to you, "If we are meant to be, we will."

And we did. You thought to yourself as you stared into Jack's eyes. "We were both growing up and moving away, and I-I guess... I didn't wanna burden you."

Jack's expression softened. "Burden me?"

Silence filled the air once again but this time, you felt embarrassed. How could that have led to the break-up? It seems so small but it felt so big before, like it was the end of the world.

"Yeah," you admitted, your gaze dropping for a moment before meeting Jack's eyes again. "I was worried about holding you back, about becoming a distraction when you had this incredible opportunity in front of you. I thought breaking up was the right thing to do, to give you the freedom to chase your dreams without any restraints."

Jack's expression softened, his eyes reflecting understanding. "Y/N, you could never be a burden to me," he replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "We were in it together, remember?"

"I'm sorry, Jack," you whispered, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. "I... I wish things had been different."

He immediately shook his head and slowly took your hand. "Don't apologize. If things had been different you don't know how that would've worked out, but right now, everything that led us here is perfect." He said sternly as you nodded slowly.

With a nod of agreement, you allowed his words to seep into the depths of your heart, a gentle reminder that the journey you had embarked upon together with twists and turns but ultimately, it had led you to this moment and that was enough.

"I believe that too," you whispered, your voice tinged with hope and conviction. "Every step we took, every choice we made, brought us here, to this moment."

Jack's gaze softened, his eyes reflecting a depth of emotion that mirrored your own. "We found each other again for a reason, don't you think?"

You nodded softly as you gazed back at him, warmth filling your whole body. Before you could answer, you felt a buzz in your pocket and sighed. You were ripped away from this perfect moment and back to reality. You took your phone out and saw the caller ID: "Brie <3"

You answered it, "Hey, Brie."

"Hey, so where are you? I just remembered I have a 9am lecture tomorrow."

You sighed before shaking your head. Brie and her bad memory, "I'm, uh, outside."

"Great, I'll meet you at the car. We have a lot to debrief tonight."

"Oh yeah, a whole lot." You laughed as you stared back at Jack's face with a warm smile. "'Kay, love you."

"Love you."

She hung up and you were met with Jack's gaze, pulled back into the moment. Again, there was silence before you spoke up. "Well, I gotta go."

"I figured." Jack spoke as a smile curved his mouth.

"I'll... see you, then?" Your voice came out in a quiet whisper as he nodded.

You turned around and started walking before you stopped. You couldn't leave without anything, right? It wouldn't be right. You turned around swiftly with a warm smile. "Umm... when can I see you?"

Jack's eyes lit up at your question, a flicker of excitement dancing in their depths. For a moment, he seemed taken aback by your sudden boldness, but a smile quickly spread across his face, warming the space between you.

Jack's eyes lit up at your question, a genuine smile playing on his lips. "How about tomorrow? We could grab coffee or something, catch up properly."

Your heart skipped a beat at his suggestion, the prospect of spending more time with him filling you with a sense of anticipation and joy. The thought of reconnecting with Jack, of rediscovering the depths of your bond, ignited a spark of hope within your soul.

"That sounds perfect," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

As you exchanged details and finalized the plans, the air buzzed with anticipation. The promise of tomorrow held the potential for new beginnings, a chance to explore the rekindled connection between you and Jack.

As you parted ways, each step carrying you closer to the promise of tomorrow, you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the chance to rewrite the narrative of your story, to carve out a future filled with forgiveness and the prospect unfulfilled promises you once made, coming true.

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