#Tired of writing smut I wanna write angst and comfort | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

atinylittlepain · 1 year

Note

okay i have a joel request!! so yknow in the game where joel pushes ellie into the water as a joke, how about that situation with reader while they’re just playing around and reader pretends to drown or like not come back up to the surface to get back at him LOL and he’s just not happy

hey there! i love this idea, i did give it a lil of my own twist bc i like to write a very grumpy Joel lol - i hope you like it :)

Splash

Joel Miller x f!reader

joel miller masterlist

She's just trying to get him to lighten up, but Joel is far from amused.

warnings | 18+ angst, allusions to smut, joel is a stinker

......................

“C’mon.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Joel–”

“No. We’re supposed to be on patrol, not fucking around.” She huffs, turning heel and traipsing further away from him and closer to the lake they had just come across. It’s the middle of the summer, and even up in the mountains, the heat is nearly stifling, especially as they’ve been hiking around on patrol for the last three hours.

She kneels down at the water’s edge, dipping her hand into the lake. The water is refreshingly cool, and sends a shiver down her spine. She looks over her shoulder at Joel, who’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest, a pursed look on his face as he squints at her. Rolling her eyes, she stands, dropping her rifle down alongside her as she starts to toe off her boots and peel off her shirt. She can hear him scoff behind her.

“What’re you doing?” Now bare from the waist up, she turns to look at him, enjoying his wide eyes and slack expression as he takes in her figure, like it isn’t the thousandth time he’s seen her like this.

“Our shift’s almost over and we haven’t seen a damn thing. I’m hot and tired and I’m gonna cool off in the lake. You don’t wanna join me? Fine. You can stay scowling like that and keep watch, Miller.” Before he can reply, she’s already turning back around, shucking off her pants and underwear in one brisk tug. She hears him gruffly sigh her name, but she gives it no acknowledgement, wading out into the lake until she can float lazily in the deepest part. It really does feel good, the cool water easing her aching muscles. She tips her head back, letting out a moan of relief, her eyes fluttering shut. When she cracks one eye open, she sees that Joel has sidled up along the water’s edge, his scowl softened into a little pout as he watches her.

“Just get in, Joel. Feels so good.” She can just barely hear his grumbles as she watches him sit down at the edge of the lake.

The moment she has the idea, she knows it’s mean, cruel even. But she’s sick of him taking everything so goddamn seriously. They’ve been living in Jackson for months now, the most comfortable and safe situation they’ve probably ever found themselves in, but Joel is still acting like a skittish asshole. So, she decides that if he can’t lighten up on his own, she’s gonna make him.

She calls his name to get his attention, acting like she’s about to say something more before letting out a dramatic gasp and starting to splash jerkily in the water. He’s up in a flash, calling her name in concern. Got him. She pushes herself down under the water, sinking slowly to the bottom of the lake.

Joel meanwhile is a frantic mess as he practically dives into the water still in his clothes. He keeps calling her name, dipping under the water, but it’s too murky to see anything. Even at the deepest part of the lake, the water only comes up to his chest as he moves around, eyes darting everywhere for her. He lets out a loud curse when something brushes against his leg.

She pops out of the water with a spluttering laugh, quickly wrapping her arms around his neck as he tries to jerk away. His hands find purchase on her waist, squeezing harshly as he lets out another string of curses. She can’t stop laughing, trying to lightly shush his exclamations, but judging from the look on Joel’s face, he doesn’t find anything about this funny.

“Oh, c’mon, Joel–” he doesn’t let her finish before he’s shrugging out of her hold, leaving her splashing back into the water as he trudges back onto shore. He doesn’t even look at her as he wrings out the ends of his shirt, sliding his rifle back onto his shoulder.

“Get out and get dressed. We’re going home, goddamnit.” She swallows hard, still treading lightly in the middle of the lake, clearly not moving quick enough for Joel as he finally turns and fixes her with a steely glare.

“Now!” She jumps in her skin at his raspy shout, quickly swimming back to land before his temper fires any further.

It’s a very quiet hike back to Jackson, and she winces when Tommy greets them at the gate, slapping Joel on the shoulder before looking at his brother questioningly.

“What the fuck happened to your clothes, man?” Joel huffs, shrugging off Tommy’s hand and stomping off toward their home. She smiles apologetically at Tommy before trailing behind Joel, entirely dreading the groveling she’s going to have to do.

When they both get home, he still won’t talk to her, won’t even look at her as she follows him into their bedroom, watching him shuck off his damp clothes for a dry shirt and pants.

“Joel, I’m sorry, ok? Will you please just–” he holds up his hand, and she stutters into silence.

“Don’t– just don’t.” Before she can say anything else, he’s already shuffling out of the room with a huff. She sighs when she hears the front door open and slam behind him.

…

She spends the rest of the afternoon helping at the greenhouses, only being shaken out of her guilty thoughts when Ellie joins her, kneeling down alongside her and the garden beds.

“Just ran into the old man at the stables. Is there a reason he looks more pissed off than usual?” She huffs, sitting back on her haunches where she had been tending several plants.

“Think I’m in the doghouse, kid. Did something kinda mean to him on patrol today.” Ellie snorts, shrugging lightly.

“Eh, he probably deserved it. I wouldn’t worry about it, though. Joel couldn’t stay mad at you even if he tried.” She sighs, offering the girl a small smile as she squeezes her shoulder.

“I’d rather not think about it anymore. What’re you up to, huh?” Ellie grins.

“Just stopping by to let you know I’m hanging out with Dina tonight. Probably won’t be home until late so don’t wait up.” She can’t help but smile at the girl’s obvious excitement, laughing lightly.

“Alright, kid. Just be safe, ok? And smart.” Ellie nods as she gets up, already backpedaling away.

“Yes ma’am! And hey, seriously, don’t sweat whatever funk you put the old man in. I’m sure it’ll blow over soon enough.” She does her best to give Ellie one more smile, but it quickly wilts away once the girl is out of sight. The truth is, she hadn’t seen him quite that angry in a long time, and for it to be over something so silly, it has her worried. It was an unnecessarily dumb thing to do, sure, but it certainly didn’t merit such a backlash of a response from him.

She sighs, getting back to work, but she can’t shake the swirling thought that she’s really not looking forward to talking with him again.

…

She lingers well into dusk at the greenhouses, knowing full well it’s not because she has a particular fondness for mulch. By the time she reaches their house, the sun has set and a faint glow comes from the windows. It’s quiet when she steps inside, she can just make out the faint twang of guitar strings coming from upstairs. Not a great sign, she knows Joel tends to play when he wants to be left alone.

As she makes her way upstairs, she takes a few steadying breaths, padding quietly into their bedroom. He’s sitting on the end of the bed, brow furrowed in concentration on his fingers lightly plucking at the guitar strings. He doesn’t even look her way, continuing to play nonsense chords. She sighs, getting up on the bed to kneel behind him. She can feel his muscles tense when she brings her palms to his shoulders, but he slackens slightly when she lays a kiss between his shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry, Joel. I really am.” She murmurs it into the worn material of his t-shirt, pressing her forehead into his back. She can feel the push and pull of the sigh he lets out, can hear the sound of him gently setting his guitar down. One of his hands tangles with hers where it’s resting over his shoulder. His voice is low and thick when he speaks, what remains of his southern drawl muddling the words together.

“Fucking scared me. What were you thinking? I just– I–” She shushes him, moving to sit next to him, but Joel has something else in mind, squeezing her hip to guide her to straddle his thighs. Now that he’s finally looking at her, she kind of wishes he’d stop, his eyes so intensely staring her down. She huffs, winding her arms behind his neck.

“I wasn’t thinking, alright? It was stupid– just a stupid thing to do and I’m sorry. But Joel, you just– you got so angry. I haven’t seen you like that in a long time. I just feel like it was a little blown out of proportion.” He sighs, his fingers flexing into the plush of her hips as he studies her face.

“I know you’re right, but christ– I just feel restless. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, I guess. For all this to be too good to be true.” Her brow furrows and she dips her head to catch his downturned gaze.

“What if it isn’t too good to be true, huh? This is the longest we’ve stayed anywhere in a long time, hell, maybe ever. I understand, I really do. But I think we have a really good thing here, and you’re so skittish it’s passing right by you.” A deep frown still creases his face, his gaze not quite meeting hers. She starts laying smacking kisses to his cheeks, the downturned corners of his mouth, punctuating each with reassuring mantras.

“I’m safe. You’re safe. Ellie’s safe. We’re safe.” He grumbles under her ministrations, squeezing her hips, but she can tell by the way his features are softening that he’s finally starting to give in to her coaxing, letting out a long sigh as he looks at her.

“You’re right– but I can’t help being on edge. Just the thought of something happening to you or Ellie– I don’t even–” She cuts him off, tugging lightly at the curls at the nape of his neck.

“So don’t. Just be here with us, right now. Here with me.” She presses a chaste peck to his lips to seal her words, but as she pulls away, he chases after it, pulling her into a deeper kiss. They’re both a bit breathless once they finally separate, a smile daring to tug at the corners of Joel’s lips.

“Still a little mad at you.” She huffs, pouting out her lip at him.

“Aw, poor baby. Want me to make it up to you?” He lets out a breathy chuckle as she’s already slinking out of his hold, down onto her knees between his legs. She rubs her palms up his thighs and he shakes his head at her, nothing but fondness in his eyes.

“Gonna be the death of me, woman.”

#joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #tlou fanfiction #tlou

2K notes · View notes

st4rr-girrl · 1 year

Note

cheater pt 2 please 🥹

Cheater Pt 2

M.R x Fem! Reader

Summary; Mattheo Riddle, one of your close friends notices your sad energy. He attempts to cheer you up.

Thanks for the request, enjoy! xx

Warnings; swearing, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of smut/implied sexual intercourse, nicknames; bunny & Mi Amor

Side note; Bunny is ur nickname that Mattheo gave you a long time ago, like when you were little. You found a bunny at the park and adopted it and he started calling you bunny. (Idk thought it was cute)

A/n: Should I make this a series? I know I never finish my other ones bc idk where the plot is going nd I lose motivation but ik what to write for this.

Now playing; never felt so alone -labrinth

Up next; see how I circle/labryrinth

Staring at your plate, filled with foods you would normally dig into, you felt an inexplainable emptiness in the pit of your stomach. Some people were already heading off to their dorms for a good nights sleep, since the school year was almost over and finals were coming up.

Although you were surrounded by people you loved, you still felt a bit lonely. You lost the one person who understood how you felt. You didn’t miss his longing gaze, that stared at your melancholy expression. He wanted nothing more than to hug you and tell Astoria to fuck off, but he understood what he did was wrong.

You’re just protecting yourself.

You glanced at your long-time friend, Mattheo, who was shooting daggers at Draco.

Just as your thoughts were about to consume you, Pansy spoke up. “Earth to Y/n?” She noticed the sad expression on your tired face, and attempted to cheer you up.

“Sorry.” You furrowed your brows and shook your head. “What were you saying?” Pansy pulled you out of your trance-like state.

“We were just debating which was better; butter-beer, or chocolate frogs.” Pansy raised a brow, awaiting your answer.

“Well chocolate frogs are good,” Pansy felt hopeful that at-least one person would agree with her about her favorite treat. “-but…” her face dropped. “Sorry Pansy, chocolate frogs get away too easily! And butter-beer is top tier.” You raised your hands in defense, while Pansy sighed and admitted defeat while Theodore teased her. A spark of happiness fluttering for a moment. You smiled contentedly, before you felt that damn stare.

You frowned and bounced your leg up and down. You felt a hand on your bouncing leg, and looked up. Mattheo was smiling reassuringly. “You ok?” He whispered, gazing at you with adoration. You two were in your own little world while the others talked. He gently grabbed both of your hands.

You smiled softly, about to answer when Astoria came in. She sat on Draco’s lap and stared right at you with a devilish grin.

Your eyes widened slightly, while tears filled your eyes. Draco could no longer face you without shame. You bit your lip and faced back to Mattheo who glared at Draco and Astoria.

“I think I need some air.” You said quickly, pulling your hands from Mattheo softly as you rushed out of the dinning room.

You headed through the halls, not noticing the tall male that followed behind you.

You debated where to go, before your mind lingered around going to the astronomy tower.

So thats where you went. You ran up the stairs and collapsed to the floor, holding yourself while sobs wracked through your body.

Someone sat beside you, and you sniffled before glancing up. It was Mattheo. A part of you was expecting Draco to be there, but it was nothing more than a silly thought. Besides, seeing Mattheo was a lot better than seeing Draco. A pleasant surprise if you will.

Mattheo pulled out a cigarette, putting it to his lips and lighting it. He handed you one.

“Mattheo, you really need to stop smoking.” You said, but still took the cigarette and let him light it.

“I’ll stop when you stop.” He smiled, making you shake your head and smile, while wiping your tears. You didn’t wanna cry in front of him. It was embarrassing, even though you’ve known him forever.

You took a puff of the cigarette as Mattheo scooted closer and wrapped an arm around your waist.

You leaned your head against him. You too were super affectionate before you started dating Draco. You’d cuddle, hug, a kiss on the cheek or head every now and then, but Draco was upset with this. Reasonably, of course, but it cause you and Mattheo to drift apart slightly. Draco was always possessive of you, so you saw less and less of your friends. Ironic, huh.

So this type of affection usually wouldn’t make you flustered, or give you butterflies; but it did. Heat crept up your neck, and you felt nauseous, as if butterflies were flying in your stomach.

“Yknow…” Mattheo said, disturbing the comforting silence. You hummed, looking up and noticing he was already glancing down at you. “There’s a bright side to this.”

You raised a brow. “And that is?”

“I can tell you something I’ve always wanted to.”

“And that is?” This caught your attention.

“I really like you, Bunny.” Your eyes widened as you stared, searching for anything that would tell you that this was some type of sick joke.

Gladly, there was no trace of him playing with your feelings. Only raw, sentimental emotion.

“I-I really like you too, Mattheo.” Your mouth tripped over your words as a faint blush crept up your neck to your cheeks. He cupped your cheek with the hand that didn’t hold a cigarette. You cupped his cheek as well, but your hand did hold a cigarette.

You both leaned in slowly, meeting one another in the middle. You smiled into the kiss, and melted in his hands.

You got on his lap and grinded, the once innocent kiss turning into something less innocent.

One things led to another and….

—

You shifted in your sleep, feeling a warm pair of strong arms wrapped around you. You smiled contentedly, turning around and facing Mattheo. To your surprise, he was already awake.

“Hey, bunny.” He said, smiling at the nickname he gave you a long while back.

“Hello Mi amor.” Mattheo spoke Spanish, and you took a few classes with him, so you started calling him that.

“Are we official?” He asks.

“What do you mean?” You ask with a raised brow. “I mean we had sex, so I’d like to believe we’re official.” You laugh, as he laughs along. His laugh vibrates his chest, and it give you butterflies.

“We should probably get ready for class.” You considered, softly getting up from the bed. “We don’t want anyone catching us in the same dorm room do we?” You added, before he could protest.

“Finee.” He groaned, getting out of bed gingerly.

He kissed your cheek, before you left to your dorm with all your school clothes in your hands.

—

Time rolled by quickly, and it was now dinner.

You were late, per usual, but this time your melancholy expression was replaced with one of happiness.

Astoria was sitting on Draco’s lap, and staring at you with confusion. Why weren’t you upset?

You strolled happily to the slytherin table, and took your seat right on Mattheo’s lap. You stared at Astoria with pride, and scowled at Draco.

Kissing Mattheo on the cheek, though it was not for revenge. You just loved him.

And this time, you were not letting anything get in the way of that.

#mattheo riddle #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle x reader #harry potter #draco angst #draco malfoy angst #Mattheo riddle angst #fluff?#angst #hurt/comfort #smut #mattheo x y/n #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x you

1K notes · View notes

cosmicanakin · 6 months

Text

no strings attached.

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

pairing. vinnie hacker x female reader.

outline. what began as a casual physical arrangement between two best friends soon blossomed into deeper feelings that neither were prepared to face without turbulence and confusion along the way.

contains. angst, hurt comfort, fwb trope, smut ( wrap it before you tap it! ) strong language, anxiety, & miscommunication.

authors note. angsty fwb ft. vinnie? count me in. it's also my first time writing this trope so i'm hoping i didn't butcher it. <3

you wake up with warmth behind you and an arm slung gently over your waist. looking at the time on your phone, you see it’s nearly noon. turning, you find vinnie still sleeping soundly, his face soft and serene.

a smile tugs at your lips as you watch him. he looks so peaceful. his curls fall messily over his forehead in a way that makes your stomach flip. you want nothing more than to lean in and place a gentle kiss on his lips, but you stop yourself.

that’s what got you into this mess in the first place. kissing led to more… and more led to feelings. feelings you can’t afford to have, not when this was supposed to be casual between you. what started as a friends with benefits situation has spiraled, at least for you, into something much deeper.

but vinnie made it clear from the beginning - no strings attached. and you agreed, not realizing your heart had plans of its own. now you find yourself falling helplessly for your best friend and you need to get yourself out before it’s too late. before you get hurt.

carefully, so as not to wake him, you slip out of bed and get dressed. once you’re out the door, you shoot vinnie a text saying you had an early shift at work. it’s not entirely a lie - you did pick up an extra shift today in hopes of keeping busy and your mind off of him.

the next few days, you do everything you can to avoid vinnie. you let his calls go to voicemail and take hours to reply to his texts. when he asks to hang out, you come up with excuses - you’re tired, have plans, are busy with work. the hurt and confusion in his messages are painfully obvious, but you reason that it’s better this way.

it has to end, and distancing yourself is the only way you’ll be able to get over him. at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself as you try to ignore the ache in your chest that grows more piercing each day without him.

one night, as you’re lounging alone watching a movie, your phone rings. vinnie’s photo flashes on your screen and you debate not answering, but curiosity gets the better of you.

“hello?”

“hey.” his voice is tight. “we need to talk. i’m five minutes away.”

before you could even protest, he hung up. your palms start to sweat as you realize there’s no getting out of this. ten minutes later, there’s a knock at your door.

you pull it open to find vinnie standing there, hands tucked into his jean pockets as he scowls down at the floor. he looks up at you, eyes softening when they meet yours. “can i come in?”

nodding mutely, you step aside to let him enter. he paces into your small living room as you close the door behind him. “so,” he starts, turning to face you. “wanna tell me what's going on?”

“nothing,” you mumble, avoiding his gaze. “i’ve just been busy.”

“cut the bullshit,” he snaps, uncharacteristically angry. “ever since that night a few weeks ago you’ve been ghosting me. i thought we were friends.”

that night plays on repeat in your head, almost like a movie you can’t turn off. the feeling of vinnie’s lips on yours, his hands exploring your body, the way he made you feel cherished and cared for. but it was all pretend - nothing more than physical pleasure between best friends.

or at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself it was to him while your foolish heart dreamed of more. now you have to make him understand it can’t be anything at all to you anymore before you get in too deep.

“i think we should stop.. whatever this was,” you say quietly, finally meeting his turbulent gaze.

hurt flashes across his face before he schools his expression into one of indifference. “oh. i see. it was just nothing to you then?”

“no, it’s not like that,” you sigh in frustration. how do you explain this without hurting him more? “i just, i developed feelings okay? and i know you said no strings but-”

“who said i didn’t have feelings too?” he cuts you off, running an agitated hand through his hair.

you blink, taken aback. “what?”

“fuck, (y/n), i care about you!” vinnie shouts, the anger and pain finally bursting to the surface. “these past few months with you have been some of the best in my life. i tried to play it cool but i’m in deep, alright? i love you.”

your mind spins, trying to process what you’re hearing. vinnie likes you? all this time avoiding him was for nothing? you stare at him open-mouthed as he continues.

“so don’t tell me it was just physical for you, because it wasn’t for me,” he says bitterly. “i wanted all of it - the sex, the cuddling, the lazy mornings together. i wanted you.”

a sob wells up in your throat. all the hurt and confusion comes spilling out as you grab onto the fabric of his shirt, balling it tightly in your fists. “i’m so sorry,” you blubber, tears now streaming freely down your face. “i thought—i thought if i distanced myself it wouldn’t hurt as much. but it only made it worse.”

vinnie’s face softens and he grasps your wrists gently, loosening your grip on his shirt. “hey, shh it’s okay,” he soothes. “i’m here now. i got you, baby.”

he pulls you against his chest in a tight embrace as you cry, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “i should have been honest with how i felt from the start. this is all my fault.”

you shake your head into his chest. “no, i pushed you away when i shouldn’t have. i was scared.”

pulling back to meet your watery gaze, vinnie brushes your tears away with the pad of his thumbs. “don’t be scared. i know i said no strings but… fuck, i want all the strings with you, baby. if you’ll have me.”

a watery laugh escapes your lips as a smile breaks through. “of course i’ll have you, you idiot.”

vinnie grins, his smile bright enough to light up the dark room. he leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that expresses everything left unsaid between you until now. you moan into it, grasping at his shirt to keep him close, never wanting to let go again.

when you finally part for air, he rests his forehead against yours, eyes glittering with care and affection. “let me stay with you tonight?”

all you can do is nod euphorically, still overwhelmed by the turn of events. vinnie takes your hand and leads you down the hall to your bedroom, closing the door shut behind you. his touch is gentle but searing as he guides you back onto the soft mattress, covering your body with his own.

there’s an underlying urgency to your actions now, a need to reconnect after being torn apart by doubt and confusion for so long. but vinnie takes his time undressing you slowly, pressing sweet kisses to every new patch of skin revealed with a reverence that makes your heart ache.

you return the gesture in kind, learning his body like a beloved song you know by heart but will never tire of singing. his moans and the scrape of his stubble against sensitive flesh are your favorite melodies.

when he finally sinks into you, it feels like two pieces of a puzzle clicking perfectly into place after drifting so long apart. he hits that spot inside you with practiced precision, drinking in every gasp and cry wrung from your lips in the dark.

you cling to him desperately, etching crescent moons into his back with your fingernails as you fly higher and higher together. when you fall, it’s simultaneously the most exquisite pain and pleasure. he follows you over the edge with a raspy moan, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

you lay entwined after, listening to each other’s rapidly calming breaths in comfortable silence. vinnie presses a kiss to your shoulder, arms tightening around your sated body.

“be mine, y/n?” he mumbles sleepily against your skin. you turn to face him, heart swelling almost to bursting at the vulnerability and care written plainly across his handsome features.

“yes,” you answer, sealing it with a soft kiss.

for the first time, you allow yourself to believe this could be the start of something real - something permanent and loving between you. no more running from what you want; you’re in vinnie’s arms where you belong. tomorrow you’ll start again with open communication and honesty. but for now, basking in the afterglow and security of his embrace is more than enough.

#﹙ kari writes 𝜗𝜚 ﹚#vinnie #vinnie hacker #vinniehacker #vhackerr #vinnie smut #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker angst #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker fanfic #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie hacker x female reader #vinnie angst #vinnie imagines #vinnie x reader #vinnie x y/n #vinnie imagine

341 notes · View notes

jenniferjareauwife · 2 months

Note

hi hi i love ur writing sm😇do you think we could get an imagine where jj and r have an established relationship, and somebody (an officer wherever they are for the case or smth) is flirting with r but she’s oblivious, and jj gets a little anxious. then r has to reassure jj, and maybe you could add just a smidge of angst before that and have jj ignore r and r doesn’t realise why until jj brings it up. also if you’re comfortable w it you could add some smut at the end, preferably w some body worship (jj receiving) thank you sm🙏🏻🙏🏻

He Was Flirting?

pairing: jennifer jareau x reader

category: slight angst, smut

warnings: smut, scissoring r & jj, body worship jj, switch jj & r

word count: 988

summary: you're on a case and an officer is flirting with you, your girlfriend notices but you don't when leads to the silent treatment and some sexy time 😏

JJ, Officer Hicks and I walked through Boston's Back Bay, observing the nearest crime scene. The victims all had y/h/c hair and y/e/c eyes, same height and my age exactly. It kind of freaked me out a little bit but I knew I wasn't in trouble. No one would mess with an FBI Agent and anyone who knew Ms. Jennifer Jareau would not want to mess with her girlfriend.

"Pretty girls like you better stay safe around here." Officer Hicks said, both hands on his waist as he looked at me with a small smile. I just gave him a small nod, feeling a bit creeped out about the crime scene.

We got back to the station 20 minutes later and I went to the break room for a coffee, hoping to spend some time with JJ after this tiring day. I walked up to her to go talk to her but as soon as I opened my mouth she pushed past me and walked away. Oh. That sting a bit. I turned around to follow her but was stopped by Hicks when he walked into the break room. "Hey hon." He said with his lopsided smile.

"Hi." I looked over his shoulder at JJ who looked completely pissed off. "Hey do you um-"

"You should smile more. It looks good on you." I nodded. I didn't really smile a lot and it was something my friends always told me to do so I took it lightheartedly.

"Thanks." I froze as JJ and I made eye contact. She looked like she was seething with anger. I turned to Hicks and gave him a smile, trying not to to look anxious.

"Sorry to interrupt. Agent Y/l/n and I have to get going." She grabbed my hand with an iron grip. "Come on babe let's go." She kissed me passionately on the lips, making Hicks's jaw drop. Once she pulled away I was left speechless, feeling a familiar heat burn in my lower belly.

"Yeah...yeah let's go." I agreed, letting her drag me out of the station.

Once we got back to the hotel room she was all over me. Her hands were on my ass and her lips were attacking my neck, leaving hickeys and marks everywhere she could reach. "Jayje...JJ." I pushed her away slightly, wanting to see her face. She looked down at me with lustful eyes while gnawing on her bottom lip. "I wanna see you."

"You've gotta earn it after flirting with Hicks sweetheart." She pushed me down onto the bed, making me whine.

"What...what? I wasn't flirting...was that flirting?" I was panicking right now, was she mad at me?

"That was most definitely flirting." Her eyes had a hard look to them again. "Don't try to get yourself out of this."

"I'm not trying to get out of anything just please...please." I tugged at the collar of her shirt, wanting to kiss her all over. "JJ please." I pulled her down on top of me and pulled off her shirt quickly so she couldn't protest. My eyes widened once I saw the swells of her breasts. She didn't protest when I unclasped her bra so I took that as a sign to flip her over, kissing ever inch of her skin that I could reach.

I cupped her breasts in my hands and moaned against her skin as I started to rock against hers, our clits bumping against each other. "JJ...JJ fuck you're so pretty." I couldn't get enough of her, just wanting her to know how pretty she was. I looked up at her though my lustful eyes and saw her blush. "I love you so much. You're so pretty- fuck." My eyes rolled to the back of my head as my hips bucked forward.

"You look so hot on top of me like this." She said with a soft laugh, reminding me of her dominance over me. I kept grinding against her and leaving kisses all over her body. She deserved it, she was so beautiful.

She gripped my waist in a bruising grip so I kept my pace. I could tell she was reaching her high, the way her muscles twitched under my lips. I could get off on her cumming, she just looked so fucking hot while doing it and I never hesitated to tell her that. "Fuck...fuck JJ I'm gonna cum."

"Me too baby." She held me close to her as I left sloppy kisses over her breasts. I kept my body as close to hers as possible, just wanting her to feel how much I loved her. "Y/n...y/n I'm coming!" I lifted my head up so I could kiss her as she rode out her orgasm. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I climaxed, kissing all over her face and neck, not caring where I kissed just caring that I was kissing her.

"I love you I love you I love you." I chanted, pulling away once I got too sensitive. I left sloppy kisses along her jaw before dropping my head to her shoulder.

"You ok?" She panted, dragging her fingertips over my back. I gave her a small nod and snuggled up close to her.

"I'm sorry for flirting with him...I didn't know." I whispered, tracing shapes on her belly. I felt her inhale and exhale sharply, trying to get the air back in her lungs. "I really love you...and I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize...I'm sorry for getting jealous. You weren't even flirting, it was just him."

"I didn't like the silent treatment." I told her quietly. I felt her chest cave in a bit.

"I'm sorry honey. I won't do it again, ok? I really should've communicated with you better. I'm really sorry."

"It's ok." I kissed her stomach. "I love you so much." I mumbled against her skin thinking maybe she would absorb it. It was silly but I wanted her to know how loved she was.

"I love you more baby."

#criminal minds #jennifer jareau #x reader #jennifer jareau x reader #lgbtq #wlw post #jennifer jareau x you

167 notes · View notes

anundyingfidelity · 3 months

Text

I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy/Ben (Part I)

Summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 1,536.

Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.

Notes: As soon as I saw him my feminism left my body immediately and my inner voice agreed that I'd let him take away my human rights with no question. He's an absolute idiot, would sleep with him 100%.

Heads up as English is not my native language sooo, yeah you know what follows. Lord pls give me inspo to finish this fic, amen.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

get yourself in the taglist!

GEN MASTERLIST! — SERIES MASTERLIST!

Part I: For The Common Good

Two months.

Two months ago Grace Mallory decided to put the former greatest supe into sleep. Somehow, you managed to get in her head, explaining your new project to her and finding a new use for Soldier Boy, who had enough rest for 40 years.

You knew what happened at the Seven Tower, how Soldier Boy and Butcher's team ended up there to finally kill Homelander. Grace tried doing some shit against Vought before, but she never managed to win. It wasn't different this time. What was better then, that to develop a cure for supes like you, who didn't ask for it? People who never used their powers in public, nor seeked fame and money.

As a doctor in Chemistry, you were developing a cure for Compound V with a secret team. Suitable for you, you were in the same CIA tower Colonel Mallory decided to encapsulate Soldier Boy to, initially, spend the rest of his days in. You had luck Grace gave green light to the project, even though your team was already working on it without her approval anyway. But it was so much better if she found out properly.

Making your way to the super secured wing where Soldier Boy was held out of his sleep, you gripped the folder in your hands. You were scanned thoroughly before going inside a cold space, where two different crystal windows and metal doors separated the place. The armed guard guided you to the first room to check first through the window. You sighed, seeing a man sitting down, hands cuffed to a harsh steel table, gaze lost. It was him.

"The keys," you requested the guard by your side.

"Doctor-"

"I said, keys. He doesn't need to be cuffed."

He complied to your order, clearly annoyed but with a straight face and you walked to the closed door.

"If something happens, I can take care of myself. Don't let anyone inside understand?" you said.

He gave a nod. With that, he let you inside the room, the doors closing behind your back.

The prisoner observed you carefully as soon as you entered. His gaze was tired, but he seemed ready to attack, and it was completely hard to ignore his rough stare on you as you made your way to your seat in front of him. Soldier Boy observed you, placing the folder on the surface, and you held his gaze, not flinching for a second. Until you decided to talk first.

"I am glad you're awake. My name is Y/N, I am a doctor at the facility. Just wanna know how you're doing today," you spoke in a calm and soft way, so he could see you were not a threat.

He saw you roaming through the pages of the file, which he recognized as a copy of his file, and you took a pen from your lab coat to make some anotations.

"Not a smart move to let a fucking doctor here," he said with a deep voice, lips forming a straight line. "What do you want?"

"I want to help you."

"Cut the bullshit."

"I want to talk. If you let me, I will uncuff you so we can have a chat, like civilized people. Just don't try to escape, you won't go too far."

He raised an eyebrow as you reached his wrists and carefully, you set him free from the metal grip.

"I know what happened with Butcher and his boys," you said, confident that he would not try anything else. "About Homelander and your relationship with him."

"What the fuck do you know?" Soldier Boy tensed visibly hearing the name of the bastard. Still, he remained on his seat. "Want some info? You can lick Grace's pussy for that."

"She is, actually, the one who approved me to be here right now," you answered, brushing off his vocabulary. You used to deal with assholes like him all the time.

He scoffed. "Why?"

"Ben," you called his real name softly. "You've been sleeping for four decades. You deserve a second chance, I am offering you that. In some sort of way."

"I'm not going to be part of that freakshow-"

"This has nothing to do with Vought," you cut his words, his tone rising and you knew perfectly why. "You just need to be here in the facility, awake, in a dignified place we will give you so you can learn everything you missed. We can give you therapy, a comfy room, anything you want that's legal, of course..."

His jaw clenched, feeling you would ask for something more. "In exchange of what?"

"I know it's hard, unfortunately you won't be able to get out, but you don't deserve to sleep forever again," you sighed. "I will pay you visits and follow your improvements because you're human, after all. That's all I ask from you," you gave him a smile for the first time.

For a few moments, he said nothing, as if making up his mind about it. "Alright, anything but coming back to that shit hole. I need reefer though."

"Lucky you, that's legal now. We can certainly make it happen."

He looked around the room as you let him go inside first. Not the fanciest, not the shittiest. It had the basics: a bed, a sofa, a TV, a closet, a bookshelf with different books, magazines and newspapers he wasn't sure would read any time, a separate door for a bathroom, enough privacy, and no windows though. It wasn't really a cell, but he did look and felt somehow like a hostage. Just a little less if he could say.

"This is what we have for now, I am all ears if you request something else to have in here," you began as he paced around and tested the bed, sitting down on the mattress.

Ben still wasn't convinced on why you offered this to him. Sceptic, he gave a good look at you, roaming his eyes at your standing figure in a fucking lab coat. Christ, he hated those. Too pretty for a doctor, but too dumb to be locked with a supe like him. He was so tired that he didn't try and hit on you like he normally would with any walking pussy that appeared in plain sight. He was too exhausted to even give a shit.

"Lemme think about it, doctor."

"Of course, take your time," you replied as he walked toward the bookshelf, scanning through the titles there were. He recognized only half of them.

"So, I will be imprisoned here instead of a fucking eggshell," Ben said, turning around to meet you. "Charming," he smirked, dragging the words out of his mouth. "Doing charity."

He watched your face drop as you shook your head. "It's not like that-"

"Then why keep me awake?" Ben insisted as he gave steps to get close to you. "I can't die, it's much easier to force my sleep in a capsule your boss made specially for me."

He stopped mere inches in front of you, your eyes never turned away from him. He thought you were fucking brave just by keeping his dark gaze.

"Ben, I told you I will be watching your progress. You can grow from all of this with our help-"

"What kind of doctor are you?"

"A psychiatrist. That's why I'm here."

Ben scoffed with a grin showing on his lips. He didn't believe in that kind of shit, but oh, well. What was he gonna do about it? He was tired of sleeping, Mallory captured him, and you were here, giving him a shelter for no cost, but his freedom. In his mind, that was temporary of course. With time, a plan would come. Right now, he just needed to keep up with the fucked up things of the modern world.

"I guess you would come and babysit me then," he said, going back to take a sit on the bed.

"Wouldn't use 'babysit you' but I will come to see you, that's for sure."

He nodded. Silence was his answer, so you continued.

"Just general rules. Our people will bring you three meals a day, if you're missing something that you need then just push the button by the door, there will be guards outside to assist you on that. Also, there are clothes your size on the closet and personal products so you can change and take a shower," he stayed silent again, just taking in your words. "If you don't need anything then I leave you to get comfortable," you said, about to leave.

"Wait. I do need something," he hesitated for a moment, but he continued anyway. "Don't use those lab coats when you come in."

Your eyes widened, he quickly realised you already knew why he was requesting that when you started to take off the coat, revealing your formal attire. You wrapped the coat on your arm and cleaned your throat.

"I totally understand, I will keep that in mind when I come tomorrow. And I will ask for your reefer too."

You flashed a final polite smile and left him to get settled. Ben breathed out. Fuck, he really needed a shower.

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys amazon #the boys series #the boys tv #the boys fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles

212 notes · View notes

changbinlov3r · 3 months

Text

Welcome to my masterlist

I only write for skz at the moment but I do think about writing about the other groups I like in the future.

Before making a request, please check my ✨request guidelines✨

🔥: smut

☁️: angst

🌼: fluff

Empty heart ☁️

Summary: you're just tired of waiting for your boyfriend that's never there for you.

I wanna be yours 🌼☁️🔥

Summary: it was all a game to him, until all he could think about was you. He wanted to have all of you. Ruin all of you. Love all of you.

Unwritten 🌼☁️🔥

Summary: the only thing your best friend ever asked was for you to not fall for her older brother, but what should you do when you come back home for the summer and he seems like the most irresistible man in the world?

More than meets the eye 🌼🔥

Summary: Chan is a pushover when it comes to doing things for you, but not so much when someone messes with his girl.

🔸Requests:

Something bad 🔥

Chan who's obsessed with hickeys

More than words ☁️ 🌼

Summary: your best friends are getting married and you're their maid of honor. They just forgot to mention that the best man and your partner in the wedding is the guy who broke you heart.

Hot n Cold ☁️🔥

Summary: after going from annoying each other to fuck buddies, Minho took your situationship from granted, always having you on his beck and call. So imagine how surprised he is to hear you have a date with someone else.

My cat likes you 🌼

Summary: your cat is behaving strangely lately and a walk outside your apartment shows you exactly why.

Can I be your favorite? 🌼🔥

Summary: Lee Minho is unreachable, someone you can only just dream of being with. Until one day, you enter the wrong door at a party and ends up with him inviting you to sit on his lap.

You are my favorite 🌼🔥

Part 2 of Can I be your favorite?

Summary: you let your insecurities come in between your new relationship with Minho, luckily for you though, he's not gonna let you run away so easily.

The very first night 🌼🔥

Summary: after a few months of dating Minho, you two finally have your very first night.

🔸Requests

Blurb: reader and Lee Know after the VMAs 🔥🌼

Dabble: Soft sex with Lee Know 🔥🌼

Oneshot: Lee Know drunk confesses to you 🌼

Tease 🔥🌼

Summary: tired of months of teasing, Changbin just wants to have you and he's going to do anything to make you his.

Trophy husband 🔥

Stupid in love ☁️🌼

Summary: less than a month into the wedding, you get into a big fight with Changbin. When you think he's going to call it quits, he makes sure to show you that you're very much wrong.

Call it what you want(complete!) ☁️🔥🌼

Summary: You and Hyunjin were never on the best terms but when you're cheated on and your ex is trying to get you back, Hyunjin does everything he can to prevent it from happening.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

As it was

Just a little something about breaking up and starting over again.

We can't be friends ☁️🔥

Summary: you have been in love with your best friend for a long time. On a night where you were supposed to comfort him after a break up, things heat up and he finally looks at you the way you wanted.

🔸Fake texts

🔸Requests

What if I wanna be yours? Part 1 | Part 2

Blurb: Hyunjin comes home after a stressful day and you snap at him ☁️🌼

Oneshot: I wish you would ☁️🌼

Another Love(complete!)☁️🌼🔥

Summary: you've been hopeless in love with Han since you were children. One night you confess your feelings to him.

Bad Intentions(complete!) 🌼🔥☁️

Summary: you thought you could turn Han Jisung into the perfect boyfriend material so you can get revenge on your cheating ex. Little did you know that you would end up getting much more than just a guy to show off.

Part 1 | Part 2

🔸Requests

Han's drunk confession 🌼

Coming soon

Break up with your boyfriend, I'm bored ☁️🌼🔥

Summary: Seungmin knew what he wanted since the first time he laid eyes on you. The problem is that you have a boyfriend... Actually, that's not a problem for him.

Leave ☁️🌼🔥

(part 2 of break up with your boyfriend, I'm bored)

Summary: a couple of misunderstandings make you and Seungmin at odds with each other. Now in his shoes, you're fuming at the thought of him having a girlfriend.

🔸Requests

Movie night 🔥

College jock 🌼🔥

Style 🔥🌼

Summary: you always wanted to do something crazy, something different from what your family expects you to. Who would have guessed that you'd meet Yang Jeongin, the guy who has the worst reputation around town and the one who's ready to deviate you from god's path.

#masterlist #skz masterlist #changbinlov3r masterlist #changbinlov3r #hyunniesgirl #hyunniesgirl masterlist

231 notes · View notes

dambaepuff · 4 months

Text

LIKE OR LIKE LIKE

☆Pairing: Roomate!Jeongguk x GN!Reader

☆Genre: Non!Idol AU, light angst, fluff, smut, one-shot

☆Warnings: swear words, Sub!JK, Dom!Reader, making out, hand job, fingering (m receiving)

☆Word count: 3k

☆Summary: After Jeongguk’s Valentines date bailed on him, he came home defeated and upset. In your attempt to comfort him things get heated.

☆A/N: I hope you’ll enjoy this valentines special!! This is my first time writing smut sooo I’m not sure how great it turned out. Once again, I do not have a beta reader and English isn’t my first language so I apologize if there’s any mistakes.

You sat down onto your couch with a huff, turning the TV on and flipping through the channels. Almost every single channel had a a romance movie playing, making you roll your eyes in annoyance. You turned on a streaming service, your irritation only growing when the front page recommended romance shows and movies. Jeongguk, your roommate and crush of three years was out on a date with some girl currently. You were never one to really care about Valentine’s Day, but knowing someone else was sneaking their way into his heart whilst you spent the evening home alone made you despise the holiday’s existence. Typing the title of a movie you’d been meaning to watch for ages now into the search bar, you turned it on and let yourself relaxed into the couch cushions. A couple of minutes in, you heard the door of your apartment unlock.

Craning your neck towards the sound you watched as Jeongguk walked in, the bouquet you had helped him pick out earlier that day loosely gripped in his hand. He sluggishly took off his shoes and jacked, dropping the assortment of flowers onto your kitchen counter. “How’d the date go?” You asked, looking up at him from your seat. “It didn’t go.” He answered in a flat tone. “What?” You scrunched up your eyebrows in confusion at his cryptic answer. “She didn’t show up. Only sent a text like half an hour after we were supposed to meet saying she forgot and made other plans.” He explained as he sat down next to you, looking defeated and tired. A deep frown formed on your lips, feeling sympathetic towards your roommate. You put a hand onto his shoulder, hoping to bring him some form of comfort. “Should we watch cheesy movies and order takeout? We can be alone and date-less together then.” You suggested, trying to cheer him up. “Yeah, I’d like that.” He sniffled lightly and fully let himself lean back into the couch. Now that his face was closer to yours you realized his eyes were glossy and red, his nose tinted a light pink as if he had been continuously wiping it. “Hey, you wanna talk about it?” You asked, your eyebrows being pulled together by worry. “Well, it’s not really like I wanted to go on that date with her so badly it’s just that,” he took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “-it made me feel so… so shit. You know? Like I,” He pursed his lips together, trying his hardest to not let tears escape his eyes. “I don’t know. I guess, it’s affecting my self esteem? I felt like,” He couldn’t keep his tears anymore. The dams broke, tear droplets freely falling off his long lashes now. “I felt like…” A quiet sob stopped him from finishing his sentence. Your hands came up to grab his, running your thumbs over his knuckles in hopes of calming him down. “I felt like a fucking loser!” He finally managed to get out, your heart breaking at the look in his eyes. Hatred filled his dark irises, but not towards his date who bailed, but rather at himself. You pulled him into an embrace, unable to muster up words to console him. He gladly leaned in, gripping your shirt and crying into your chest. You let his warm tears soak through the cloth, not caring about anything other than giving him the comfort he needed so desperately. One of your hands softly stroked through his hair, the other rubbing gentle circles into his back. After giving him a moment to cry his heart out you started to quietly mumble reassurances into his ear. “Jeongguk you’re so handsome and kind, maybe it’s for the best she showed her true colors so early on. You deserve so much better. Someone who can give you the respect and love you deserve, someone who will be there for you when no one else is.” You placed a fleeting peck onto the crown of his head, causing him to snuggle further into your chest. The two of you cuddled till he calmed down, letting comfortable silence consume you.

“Maybe you’re right.” He muttered against you, the sound coming out muffled. “Hm, about what?” You asked, your hand that had stilled resuming the mindless movement on his back. “Finding someone who’s right for me is so hard,” he said, lifting his head up to look at you. “especially when they’re right in front of me.” He finished his sentence. “Right in front of you?” You tilted your head in confusion, not quite understanding what he meant. He tentatively leaned up closer to you, stopping a couple of centimeters away from your face. “Can I do something?” He asked, his warm breath tickling the skin of your face. You only gave a small nod, your heart rate beginning to pick up. His gaze dropped down to your lips, slowly he leaned in closer again, placing his soft lips onto yours. It only lasted a short moment, the kiss being a mere peck, but it made a million butterflies erupt in your stomach. Your heart pumped wildly in your chest, the circulation making your skin heat up.

“Hm, maybe try it again. For good measure.” You whispered feeling bold. The corner of his lip quirked up, he hummed in agreement and closed the gap between you again. This time the kiss lasted longer, his hand snuck up to cup the side of your face as he moved his lips against yours. He began to be more sloppy, opening his mouth more against yours and letting your saliva mix. You gladly let it happen, trying to slip your tongue past his lips. He got the memo and let it slide in, quietly moaning as his tongue pushed against yours. He disconnected your lips to get some air, climbing onto you and straddling your lap. Your hands instinctively went to hold his hips making him put his arms around your neck and resume making out with you. Groaning against his lips the kisses became more messy, teeth and tongues clashing in desperation. He ground his hips down onto yours, searching for friction to aid his hardening cock.

You started trailing kisses down the side of his face, stopping at his jaw to lightly nibble at the soft flesh. He huffed and tangled his fingers into yours hair, giving it a light tug. You continued to place messy kisses down his neck, bitting and sucking at his skin. In response he moaned, more loudly this time. Taking it as a sign to keep going you carried on with bruising his neck. His hips started to speed up, the grinding turning into humping. One of your hands snaked to his lower stomach, slipping it under his shirt and playing with the waistband of his pants. You slid your thumb inside it, gently stroking the flesh right above his cock. He softly whined into your ear, gripping your wrist to try guiding your hand where he needed it most. “Eager now, are we?” You teased and switched your kisses to pecks. “Please, I want you to touch me.” He whispered, trying to hump up against your hand. Deciding to be merciful, you dipped your hand into his boxers and pulled out his erect dick. He moaned at the feeling of your hand wrapping around him, biting down onto his lip in anticipation. You pulled away from his neck to get a good look at face. Whilst maintaining eye contact you let go of his cock, bringing your hand up you spat into your palm. He only watched you with hooded eyes, shivering at what was to come. Slowly you lathered up his dick, leisurely starting to twist your wrist around it. He lightly thrusted up into your hand, having to keep himself restrained from snapping his hips up like an animal in heat, but to no avail, he couldn’t help himself.

You barely even had to move your hand, he did most of the work by fucking up into it like a hormonal teenager who had never felt intimacy before. Your knuckles would occasionally skim against his lower stomach, making him shudder from the ticklish feeling on his sensitive skin. He whined out your name, his voice cracking as he pathetically rutted up into your fist. In the meantime, your other hand had gotten busy with kneading the flesh of his ass. You had been eyeing the supple flesh since you first met the man, always secretly wondering what kind of noises he’d make as your fingers filled him up to the rim. Gathering up the courage, you decided to ask him if you could finger his ass. “Jeongguk,” You quietly said, trying to get his attention. “Yes?” He replied breathily, slowing his thrusts down. “Can I finger you?” You asked looking up at him. “Fuck.” He felt his balls tense up as his empty hole clenched, the mere question almost making him cum. “Yes. Fuck, please do.” He huskily replied, his hips coming to a stop. “Take your pants off pretty boy.” You instructed as you tapped his hip, signaling for him to get off of you. He obediently came off and started taking off his pants together with his boxers. You got up from the couch and started walking to your room. “I need to go fetch some lube real quick. You can lose the shirt too.” You cheekily winked at him and looked him up and down. The tips of his ears reddened and he nodded dumbly at you.

Pulling your nightstand drawer open, you dug around the cluster or objects in search for the lubricant. Once you found it you quickly made your way back to the living room. On the couch laid Jeongguk in all his glory. Sprawled out with his legs wide open for you, completely naked and ready for you to destroy him. You knelt down between his legs pecking his knee and starting to litter kisses down towards his inner thigh. He shuddered, the chilly air of the living room and the feeling of your lips against his skin too much for him to bare. He lightly arched his back, his nipples hardening from the cold. You massaged his outer thigh as you popped the lid of the lube open with your thumb. “You ready?” You asked to which he hummed in reply. Raising an eyebrow at him you awaited a verbal answer, which he quickly scrambled to give. “Y-yes!” He stammered out. “Good.” You simply replied and started to apply the clear substance onto two of your fingers. “Relax, I can’t do anything if you’re tense.“ You said as you leaned down to give him a tender kiss. He took in a deep breath and relaxed his muscles with an exhale.

Your fingers lightly grazed his rim, testing the waters of his sensitivity. “S’cold.” He mumbled against your lips. “I know baby.” You replied an continued kissing him. Softly you pushed your middle finger against his hole, slowly easing in the tip of your finger. Seeing no signs of discomfort you continued pushing in till you hit the base of your knuckles. He sighed into your mouth, his hand coming up to rest on your bicep. “It it okay? Can I move it?” You questioned. “Mhm! S’okay.” He drowsily replied. You began to move your finger slowly, pumping it in and out of him. Jeongguk squirmed underneath you, letting out soft pants and gasps at the new sensation. Wiggling your finger around inside him, you deemed him ready enough to add another digit. “I’ll add another, okay?” You said as you slid your hand down his chest and towards his stomach. “Yes!” He replied breathlessly. Sliding the finger that was already inside of him almost all the way out, you probed at his entrance gently with the one next to it. They both went in with relative easy, making Jeongguk’s breathing become even more shallow once your knuckles reached the skin of his ass. You started pumping again, the lubricant making squelching noises. Once you were sure he was used to your fingers, you moved the hand which was resting on his stomach to take a hold of his neglected cock. The moan he let out the moment you touched his dick was like music to your ears, making you feel your own arousal grow.

You laid down onto the couch so your head was between his legs now. Nosing at his inner thigh you started to kiss and bite the skin. You trailed the kisses further down, stopping right in front of his cock. You looked up at him, admiring how his abdominal muscles would twitch when you pressed down especially deep inside of him. His head was thrown back, his Adams’s apple bobbing as he desperately tried to swallow down the excess spit forming in his mouth from his continuous moaning. You watched his face closely as you stopped jerking him off, waiting for him to look down at you so he can see you take his cock into your mouth. Just as you expected, he rolled his head, letting it drop forward as he stared down at you. “Why’d you sto-ah!” His question was cut off by his own moan the moment you licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip. He threw his head back again, his hips lifting off of the couch against his will. You wrapped your lips against his tip, lightly sucking whilst your hand jerked him off, occasionally squeezing the base of his cock and lightly bobbing your head. Purposely you drooled onto his cock, watching as the saliva slid down to his balls. With one last lick to his tip, you made your way downwards and began to lick and suck at his balls. He kept on bucking up into you, chasing his high with fervor. “Ah! I think I’m gonna- I think I’m gonna…” He panted, trying to let you know about his approaching orgasm through his whines of pleasure.

You took his cock back into your mouth, moving your head up and down the length in the same rhythm as the fingers which you were still pumping inside of him. With one last drawn out moan his hips spasmed and he came into your throat. The pleasure of his orgasm jolted through his entire body, leaving him shaking and whining at the overwhelming sensation. He lightly pushed you away when he came down from his high, his form going limp underneath you. You swallowed down every drop of cum he had to offer, pulling away from his cock with a wet pop. You sat up onto your knees, looking down at him you admired your work, enjoying seeing him become such a mess for you. You quickly fetched a towel to clean him up and brought him a glass of water which he eagerly gulped down. The moment you laid down next to him, he climbed onto you and snuggled into your chest. “I didn’t do anything for you, I’m sorry.” He mumbled looking up at you. “Nonsense, I’m just happy I could help fix your mood.” You responded and soon the two of you fell into a comfortable silence.

“You ever smoked cigarettes after having sex?” You ask out of the blue. Jeongguk looks up at you in confusion, letting out a short giggle. “What? Like the band?” He asks, his doe eyes staring up at you. “Yeah, like the band.” You softly smile down at him, moving his bangs away from his forehead. “You wanna go have a cigarette and listen to them?” Your smile spread wider as you proposed the idea. “That sounds kind of nice actually.” He replied and lifted himself off of your chest to sit up. You helped him get dressed and grabbed your cigarettes and both of your jackets before making your way out onto the balcony with him. You put Cigarettes After Sex on shuffle and pull out a cigarette for each of you. Placing one of them into Jeongguk’s mouth you took a lighter out of your pocket. Your thumb slides across the spark wheel twice before you successfully light a flame. The two of you maintained eye contact while you lifted it up to his cigarette, watching him inhale the smoke. You light your own and melted into your seat, enjoying the quiet music playing in the background.

Jeongguk’s eyes remain transfixed on your side profile as you look out towards the distance, completely lost in thought. “Hey, Uhm (Y/N)?” He says before taking another drag of smoke to which you hum in response. “What are we?” The question echoes through your mind, makes a small lump form in your throat. “Hm, I don’t know.” You reply simply, not wanting to look at him in fear that he’d say he only wanted to be friends. After all this time of longing for him and watching him go on those stupid dates, you couldn’t handle being friend-zoned, especially subsequently to finally getting a taste of him. “Whatever you want I guess.” You add on, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. In the corner of your eye you can see his form slightly deflate. “Would you… not want to be with me?” He asked in a meek tone, turning his head toward the opposite direction. Seeing this as your chance to finally tell him how you feel, you let your tongue loose. “I would. Any day in any universe I would. I’ve wanted to be with you since we first met if I’m being honest, I guess I’ve just,” you paused, taking a moment to choose your next words. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re a fucking moron Jeon Jeongguk. I mean seriously what would make you think I wouldn’t want to be with you? I’ve been way too obvious, I thought you knew I liked you.” The words pour out of you before you can stop them, leaving both of you a bit surprised. “Do you just like me or do you like like me?” He questioned, looking at you with hopeful eyes. “Are we in middle school or something?” You grinned at him, teasing his choice of words. “I like like you Jeongguk.”

#bts #bts x reader #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #bts x gender neutral reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #sub!bts #sub!jungkook #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts angst

222 notes · View notes

from-the-clouds · 1 year

Text

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. xiv

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter | chapter summary: The final chapter pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 9.2k (I love being insane) chapter warnings: SMUT (18+only) - unprotected sex. Insecurity/Jealousy. Angst/arguments. Discussions of death, blood and injuries. Alcohol & Marijuana use. Fluff. Bisexual reader (happy pride ya'll!). As always please dm for more specifics. a/n: This could probs use another round of proofreading but it would've delayed this even longer sooooo.... Here we go! I feel pretty emo right now and I might make a more in-depth post about my thoughts at a later date bc I just finished writing this in a hot daze so I can't put all my thoughts coherently together. But I just wanna say thank you to everyone who supported and gave love to this story. This is by far the most popular fic I've ever written, and I don't really know how? Or what I did to deserve all the love but I just want you to know how much I appreciate it. Thank you for sticking with me through all the angst and delayed updates and everything. I'll never forget you and I'll never forget Joel x Reader!! Thank you so much, I hope the finale lives up to your expectations! ❤️

**I DO NOT HAVE A TAGLIST. Please follow @ftcwriting and turn on notifs if you would like to be notified when I update my works :) **

I’m not the kind of man who tends to socialize I seem to lean on old familiar ways….

-May 16, 2024-

“Are you sure you’re okay if I leave you here alone?”

Ethan’s voice jolts you out of a daze, and you blink your eyes open, realizing that you’d dozed off while sitting upright in a patio chair, the cheesy romance novel you’d been reading still lying open on your lap. Turning to look over your shoulder, you find him standing with one foot on the deck, and one foot still inside, cut in half by the sliding glass door.

Clearing your throat, you straighten up and nod. “Of course. I’ll be fine.”

Ethan studies you carefully, like he’s not entirely convinced. He’s been hesitant to leave you alone unless it’s absolutely necessary – only stepping away from the house to go on patrol shifts and to bring home meals from the mess hall. Recovery has made you feel like a burden to him – to all your friends in the community, really. Everyone….well, almost everyone, has been supportive, but you’ve never been comfortable being openly vulnerable.

Unfortunately, it’s too hard to deny the pain that you’ve been in since the accident, the trouble you have getting around, the exhaustion that clings no matter how many long naps and twelve-hour nights of sleep you get. According to the doctors, being so tired is just part of recovery – rest is important, but the concoction of pain medication you’ve been prescribed only makes your drowsiness and confusion worse. It had been a big deal that tonight you’d mustered the energy to drag yourself outside to sit in the fresh air.

“I’m fine,” you assure Ethan, once again. “Have fun on your date.”

“It’s not really a date,” he says, almost a little too quickly. “We’re just hanging out.”

“Right,” you say, matter-of-factly. “Do I know who this person is?”

Ethan looks at his feet. “You remember the day this shit happened?” he asks, gesturing towards you. “Before you left on patrol, the girl that said hi to me? It’s her. Her name is Alex.”

“Oh?” you tilt your head, give him a small smile. “She was cute. How’d you ask her out?”

“Well,” he begins, scratching the back of his neck. “I may have…uh, gotten some advice.”

“You didn’t think to ask me?” you’re able to muster up a small smile.

“I would’ve, I just…..” he shakes his head. “It seemed stupid…with everything you have going on.”

“It’s not stupid,” you say, feeling a wave of guilt. Even though he’s the one looking after you, you haven’t spoken to him much about anything going on in his life. In fact, you haven’t really spoken to anyone in a long time, beyond thank you’s and blanket statements like I’m doing better. You feel disconnected, and more lonely than ever. If you ever get enough energy to leave your house, you expect most of the people in the community to have forgotten you exist. “Who’d you ask?”

“Uhm….” Ethan runs a hand through his long dark hair, shifts his weight. “….I’ve been assigned on patrol with Joel Miller a lot lately….so….”

You almost laugh when he uses Joel’s full name. Joel has been such a huge part of your life – sometimes the hero, sometimes the villain – that you don’t need to hear his last name to know who Ethan’s talking about. You could know a thousand Joel’s, and he’d still be the first person that came to mind. But Joel is still a sore subject, and Ethan knows it, which is why you suspect he’s avoided telling you this in the first place. You feel your eyebrows knit together, only able to let out an unenthused. “Oh.”

“I just, you know….he’s a guy. And it sounds like you even liked him at one point so….he must know something, right?”

“That was a long time ago,” you say quickly, regardless of the fact that he’s right.

It’s probably not fair to blame Joel for everything that has happened to you. You know this, deep down. But you’ve been so helpless and isolated since you’ve woken up in that hospital bed that you’re desperate to find someone to hold accountable. And Joel hadn’t visited you in the hospital once. By this point, he’s abandoned you so many times that your resentment feels justified, even if your current state is not directly his fault. Because it was you, after all, who had walked into the path of those men, too angry to think clearly, too weak to take them down alone. The only person you can blame is yourself, and you really don’t want to.

“Did he tell you to take her out on patrol, make her cry, and almost get her killed?”

Ethan clicks his tongue, looks down, almost ashamed. “No. He did not.”

“You should be careful with Joel,” you warn.

“I was…” Ethan says. “But I don’t think it’s that simple. I think he’s actually alright.”

“So you’re friends with him now,” you state, hoping he refutes. But instead, he looks up at you, frowns, and lifts his chin.

“What happened to you was horrible. It shouldn’t have happened. And yeah, maybe you think he’s the reason you almost died…. I don’t know the specifics so you can believe whatever you want. But I know that he’s the reason you’re still alive.” Ethan’s voice breaks, and you feel tears brimming your eyes before he continues. “He brought you back here, he donated his blood, he-”

“What?” you cut him off.

“What do you mean, what?” Ethan asks. “He was the only person there who had your blood type. You would’ve died if he didn’t. They didn’t tell you this?”

“Whatever it took to make him feel less guilty, sounds like,” you say, dismissively.

Something hot burns in your veins, something that must have always been there since you woke up, but you’re only feeling it now. It’s unsettling, Joel being a part of you that way. Your lives had already seemed intertwined enough already. But now, he’s inescapable.

“Well, he stayed by your side every night while you were asleep. Fuck, I mean, he was probably there just as often as I was. He made sure I ate, and slept and showered and… and he never once asked for anything in return. He cares about you as much as I do, clearly, so I don’t think it’s wrong to think he’s a good guy….”

You must not care about me that much, you want to say, but you stop yourself. Because it’s not true, and you’d only be saying it to hurt him. You have nothing to defend yourself with, no way to convince him otherwise, and so you just stare at him until he shakes his head and slips back inside.

Ethan is stubborn, he always has been. And it’s a special kind of stubbornness, fueled by anger – so common in most of the young people you meet these days. You understand why they’re all like this. When you’re robbed of your childhood – you get stuck there….waiting….. Like someday you’ll have a chance to do it all over again, regardless of how obvious it is that you won’t.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-May 25, 2024-

Things get better, albeit slowly. You begin to wean off the pain medication, which makes you more alert. It’s still difficult to leave your house, but you can move around it more easily, and you don’t spend all your days sleeping. Luckily, you aren’t as stir-crazy as you’d been expecting.

One afternoon, Ellie Williams shows up on your doorstep with a bag full of groceries.

“Maria wanted me to bring these to you,” she says when you open the door. “She told me to tell you she’ll be over tomorrow, but she wanted me to give you these to tide you over.”

“That’s very nice. Thank you for bringing them to me,” you try to take the bag from her hands, but she steps back just a little, like she’s unsure if you should be carrying anything. You let your hands drop to your sides. “Would you like to come in?”

Ellie hesitates for a split second, adjusting the bag in her arms, and then nods. “Sure.”

Stepping to the side, you allow her into the home. Because of how warm it is outside, you’ve opened all the windows to let the breeze through.

“Sorry for the mess,” you say, Ellie following you into the living room. There are stacks of books and pill bottles with instructions scattered on your countertop. You haven’t swept the floors in awhile and all the hard surfaces are covered in a thin layer of dust. It’s not really that bad, but you don’t have the energy or strength to be on your feet for long – let alone to clean the house.

“I don’t mind,” Ellie says. “It’s not even that bad. I don’t know why older people worry about leaving your house messy and shit….no offense.”

“There was a time it used to matter,” you tell her. “And I see where you’re coming from, but my thing is – if you’re going to live somewhere, you should do what you can to make yourself feel comfortable.”

Ellie purses her lips, as if you’ve made a good point but she doesn’t know how to answer. Instead, you continue. “Can I get you anything? Water?”

“No, I’m okay,” she puts the bag on your kitchen counter.

“You can sit if you’d like,” you tell her. “I just need a moment to put these away.”

When you walk into your living room a few minutes later, she’s hovering near your record player, looking through the vinyls. The turntable was already in the house when you’d arrived years ago, but it was buried in the closet and broken. Ethan had managed to fix it after a little troubleshooting and scavenging for parts. Now, you both were always looking for records to bring home, and had amassed quite the eclectic collection – jazz, funk, hip-hop, and everything in between.

“Wow,” Ellie says, running her fingers along the shelved records. “You found all these?”

“Some of them were already here. But yeah. Ethan and I are always on the lookout on patrol. I can play you something. What do you like?”

“Eighties, I think,” she says. “But…I also haven’t heard as much.”

“Well here,” you thumb through the records, pull out a worn copy of Speaking In Tongues. “How about some Talking Heads?”

You pass the record over to her, and she stares at you blankly. It’s only then that you realize — she’s never used a record player before. There’s a familiar pang of sadness before you show her how.

“Are you feeling better?” Ellie eyes you wearily once the music starts, and you settle onto the couch, feeling a little worn out after being on your feet.

“Yes,” you say. “I’m older now, so it seems like healing takes a lot more time.”

Ellie nods, then bobs her head to the music a little. “This is better than most of the stuff Joel likes.”

“Oh yeah,” you smirk, and instinctually, you recall his enthusiasm for all things old-school country. “I remember that,” you say softly.

With so much time on your hands lately, you’ve found yourself thinking of Joel a lot, reminiscing on the time you’d spent with him and Sarah. What Ethan had told you about him staying by your side was definitely making you reconsider your assessment of him, even if you were still hesitant. It was probably a trap to think you’d ever be able to feel those things with him again, but if remembering them brought you comfort, you weren’t going to resist it.

“You’re more than welcome to come over to listen anytime,” you offer, and she nods excitedly.

Ellie stays for longer than you expect. You talk a fair bit. She tells you about what she’s learning in school – but mostly how ‘fucking useless’ it is. She wanders around your living room and pokes through your stuff without asking, but you don’t think to stop her – you just answer her questions and let her be curious.

Eventually, the sun dips below the horizon, and she excuses herself to go home, insisting that Joel will ‘fucking kill her’ if she’s out too late. Even though you’re exhausted after entertaining her for a few hours, you find it feels nice. Being on house arrest, essentially, had left your starved for connection outside Maria and Ethan.

You see her out the door before returning to your refrigerator to look for something to eat. Ethan will be back from patrol any minute, so it may be nice to make him something even if you have almost no energy.

But when there’s another knock on your front door, you’re shocked to see who you find staring on your porch.

Joel.

You almost forget to speak at the sight of him. It’s been weeks since your accident and he might as well have moved away from Jackson since you hadn’t seen him at all.

“Hey,” you say, tentatively, taking him in. He seems preoccupied – cheeks flushed, hair rumpled, and out of breath, like he had run all the way to get here.

“Have you seen Ellie?” he asks, not even greeting you in return. “I’ve looked everywhere and I-

“You just missed her,” you cut him off, not because you’re trying to dismiss him, but because he's clearly distressed. “I’m surprised you didn’t see her on your way over.”

Joel sighs, eyes closing in relief. “Thank God.” For a second, you glimpse the frazzled and overworked father you used to know. “She stayed out too late, had me worried sick.”

“She’s fine,” you say. “Although she did say you might kill her if she didn’t get home soon.”

Joel gives you an almost imperceptible smile, but seems mostly irritated by Ellie’s suggestion. “I would do no such thing.” He shakes his head and takes two steps backwards. “Thank you. Didn’t mean to be a bother.”

Your mind floats to a memory of Joel on your front porch, late getting home from work and looking for Sarah, and you can’t help but feel a bit of sadness and longing for a simpler time, a surge of affection.

Joel is halfway down your front porch steps when you speak again. “You aren’t bothering me.”

He pauses, turns to look over his shoulder. There’s something he wants to say, you can feel it, and you step outside, letting the door fall shut behind you and remaining huddled against the siding, and he turns to face you fully, sighing. “I’ve been meaning to stop by, actually….”

“Oh…really?” you can’t keep the surprise from your voice, and he notices.

“Yeah,” Joel rubs his fingers together, a nervous habit of his you know all too well. “Yeah. I- well, I wanted to apologize to you.”

You’re so startled by the words you can’t answer right away. But the split second of hesitation causes Joel to continue, looking to fill the empty space.

“I’ve been waiting to find the right thing to say….but it doesn’t seem like that’ll ever happen. I’m not even sure I know where to start.”

“Oh,” is all you can manage, still taken aback. The only thing that doesn’t surprise you about his admission is the sincerity. You could say a lot of things about Joel, but he isn’t a liar. He always tells the truth. Maybe it’s why he pulled away from you to begin with. It’s easier than the alternative – spending time with you, which would force him to be honest. For how much you’ve changed, you’d probably do the same.

But the thing with Joel is that you’re exhausted. You’re tired of the back and forth, of the push and pull, of the constant struggle to hold your care over each other's head, hoping the other will break first. Maybe this is a fresh start.

You step closer to him, and you see him study the way you move. Of course, you’re trying to look strong, but he can surely sense the weakness. He’d always been good at that, better than any of the others. Your hand comes to rest on the porch railing for support.

But…..

There’s that voice in the back of your head, the one that tells you this is a mistake. The one that reminds of the pain you’ve often earned through vulnerability. It likes to think it’s served you, protected you, and it has. But it’s not always right.

“I suppose I owe you an apology, too,” you say. “At the very least I should thank you for what you did.”

Joel shakes his head, dismissively, but looks to where your hand rests on the porch railing, looks back up to you as he reaches out. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

His hand clasps over yours, and to anyone else, this might be nothing. It’s so innocent, unassuming. But the effect it has on you is palpable. He squeezes once, and you flip your hand over, squeezing his back, giving him a gentle smile. “I am too.”

Joel’s eyes fill with a warmth you haven’t seen in twenty years, and your stomach flutters, your heart races. A part of yourself that you’d considered long dead seems to rouse.“Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“I told Ellie we’d go to the mess hall together,” Joel says. “Otherwise I would.”

You blink once, and Joel sees it, immediately continuing on. “But maybe Ellie and I can come another time, join you and Ethan?”

“Yeah. He’d like that,” you say. “That might be nice.” ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-June 20, 2024-

You think that at the end of a long winter, bears must hate coming out of hibernation.

It must suck. They spend months sleeping, doing almost nothing, and then suddenly they’re forced to function again – to hunt, to eat, to roam, to survive and socialize. You imagine there has to be a learning curve, a desire to crawl back into their den and never leave again.

Or maybe you could be wrong, and they love it. And you’re just a wimp who hates feeling uncomfortable.

All you know is that you’re huddled in the back corner of the Tipsy Bison, nursing a whiskey – and it’s the last place you want to be.

You’re overwhelmed.

And despite the fact that you regularly used to attend community events, it’s been so long since you've been out in Jackson that you feel like you don’t belong. To some extent, you’ve always felt this – too hardened by the outside world to fully assimilate, especially when the town throws dances. But in the past, you at least attempted to convince yourself otherwise.

Two weeks back, the doctors had cleared you to go about your daily activities as normal – within reason, of course – but you hadn’t exactly jumped at the opportunity. Tonight, Ethan had accused you of becoming ‘antisocial’ and ‘reclusive’. You had agreed to attend – but only to beat those allegations. So far, you are definitely not.

You scan the crowd, taking in the people spinning around the dance floor. Some of the women are wearing dresses. You can’t help but feel a little envious of how easily they’re able to perform femininity, which is something you’d given up on a while ago. It hadn’t exactly served you before arriving in Jackson, and you predict it would be humiliating to start trying now. After all the things you’d experienced, you were left marred with scars and wrinkles, stretch marks and loose skin. Since then, you’ve remained loyal to the combination of men’s denim and tank tops with flannel-button downs overtop.

It doesn’t always stop the men in the community from descending like vultures. You might be the last pick – there are plenty others who are younger and prettier – but you’re still an option. Bea, your old partner, had always theorized that some men were particularly drawn to sapphic women, that it was ‘the ultimate challenge’. Maybe there is some truth to her theory, but you like men….sometimes. So there is always a part of you that yearns for their validation, for as many times as you tell yourself you don’t want it. But it never feels good to get it after you’ve watched them exhaust all their other options.

It’s pathetic, but it makes you think of Joel. He and Ellie had been over to yours and Ethans last week for a nice dinner, and you had tried to gauge whether there was any romantic connection between you still. Occasionally, you’d caught him looking at you with a wistful smile, but he could have been lost in thought. It’s not like you needed that from him or anything, but it might be useful information. After all this time, Joel is still so handsome, and probably has an impressive selection of potential partners here in Jackson – women of all ages. You hope he’s not here tonight – you can’t see much besides the dance floor at this point – because the thought of him cozied up to anyone here, combined with the acrid taste of the drink in your hand, makes you want to gag.

You take another look around the room. Eugene, your partner in crime – quite literally – is walking towards you, which helps quell your spiraling mind . If you talk to him, say hello to Tommy and Maria, maybe Ethan will see the effort you’re making and you can sneak out without having to deal with anyone. It’s wishful thinking, but it’s worth a shot. The sooner you can get home tonight, the better.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel can’t stop staring.

He knows it’s impolite. He knows that he’s not being subtle. He knows that if any other person in this bar followed his eyeline, they’d pick up on what he was doing in an instant. But every minute he doesn’t get called out for it, he becomes more and more emboldened.

It’s the first dance he’s ever been to in Jackson, and the only reason he’s here is to placate Ellie and Tommy. But even they have abandoned him in favor of better companions – his brother is deep in conversation with Maria, sitting across from him in a booth, and Ellie is out on the dance floor dancing with one of her new friends, Dina.

Joel just can’t help himself. He still feels guilty for what he’s done, but he can’t shake the feeling of a soft hand clasped within his own – the first time he’d felt any semblance of hope since arriving here. Tommy and Maria had already slyly let him know about all the women who were interested, but he couldn’t bring himself to entertain their advances. There’s only one he wants, and she won’t even look in his direction.

When he’d first noticed you, you were whispering with Eugene on the opposite side of the dance floor. According to Tommy, you spend a fair bit of your time with the old man, which Joel initially thought to mean that you had some sort of entanglement. At first, Joel thought that couldn’t be possible. But you were deep in focus as you listened to Eugene’s words, nodding and leaning in closer and closer, and Joel thinks Tommy might be right. He wants to understand what you see in this man – tall and unkempt, covered in tattoos with long, graying hair and a beard to match. But Joel catches himself in his judgment, he’s probably just as unappealing – not just because of how he’s aged, but because of how horrible he’s been to you in general.

The next time Joel sees you, you’re at the bar, chatting with a man who Maria had introduced him to not long ago, a resident who is new in town. Joel had been too busy focusing on the fact that he’d been in Jackson long enough to not be its newest resident that he couldn’t remember his name. He wishes he had, so he could keep tabs on him. Of course, he can’t blame the man for being drawn to you – Joel knows very well that you’re hard to miss in a crowd.

Still, Joel bristles when you both step away from the bar, and the man’s hand lands just above your sacrum. He actually finds himself tensing up, resisting the urge to intervene, because it’d likely only make you angry. Plus, maybe you are interested. That question is answered quickly when you reach behind your to clasp the man's hand and place it back at his side. Where it belongs, he thinks.

“Joel!”

He snaps his attention to what’s in front of him – interrupted, and probably for good measure, lest he get himself too worked up. Ethan approaches with a girl his age, her arm linked through his. Joel stands to greet them.

The terse understanding between himself and Ethan while you were still in the hospital had somehow turned into a friendship, especially after they’d begun getting paired up on patrol. Ethan reaches out for Joel’s hand to dap him up, slinging an arm briefly over his shoulder.

“How’s it going, kid?”

“Good, good,” Ethan nods, pulling back, and gestures to the girl next to him. “Joel, this is Alex.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” she says. “Ethan’s told me all about you.”

“Really?” Joel asks, feeling a little bewildered.

“Only good things,” Alex says quickly, as if she senses his apprehension. Ethan puts his arm around her waist. Joel recalls a few weeks back when he’d asked for advice on how to ask out a girl. Joel hadn’t pried at the time, but now he seems to understand, and is surprised by the swell of pride he feels. “Ethan says you’re a fucking badass,”she giggles after she swears.

Joel looks over at Ethan. “I don’t know about that.”

He shrugs, changes the subject. “Since when do you come to these things?” Ethan asks.

“Ellie dragged me out,” Joel answers.

“I did the same with my aunt,” Ethan chuckles. “But now I can’t find her, and I’m pretty sure she’s escaped.”

“Oh, is she here?” Joel plays dumb, like he hasn’t been aware of exactly where you have been all night. “I haven’t seen her.”

“I think she was with Eugene earlier,” Alex has to stand on her toes to speak into Ethan’s ear. Joel watches Ethan’s nose wrinkle.

“Do you know Eugene at all?” Ethan turns to Joel. “I’m trying to figure out what’s going on there, but she won’t say anything.”

Joel wishes that he had more information. “Tommy says they seem close.”

“I know that,” Ethan says. “I wish she would just be honest with me. It’s not like I would be mad. Whatever,” he shakes his head. “We can talk about it another time. I just want to find her so I can introduce her to Alex.”

“We should say hi to Tommy and Maria first,” Alex says, and Ethan nods in agreement before saying goodbye to him. Joel claps a hand on Ethan’s shoulder as he moves past him, and Alex gives him a shy smile in acknowledgement.

Focusing back on the crowd, Joel realizes that you’ve vanished in the short span of his last interaction. Maybe you’d rejected that guy, and then he’d retaliated. Maybe you’d gone home with Eugene. Joel shakes his hand. It’s none of his business. He doesn’t need to get involved. It’s not his job to look after you, regardless of how much better he feels when he does. Old instincts. He can’t help himself.

He settles on watching Ellie and Dina spin each other around on the dance floor. Eventually, Tommy and Maria, then Ethan and Alex all trickle out of the booth to go get another round or head to dance. Joel stands to release the booth to someone who actually needs it – and is left in the corner, nursing a nearly empty beer that’s now flat and warm. He looks towards his family and friends, but for some reason, he still feels alone.

Joel isn’t sure how long he stands sulking, but he starts when someone approaches from behind.

“Having fun?”

You’re a pace or two back, one thumb hooked through a belt loop, a whiskey in your opposite hand. Joel looks back at the crowd a moment, then at the ground. “No.”

“Neither am I,” you commiserate, stepping alongside him.

Joel considers offering that Ethan was looking for you, but selfishly does not want to give you a reason to leave, so he stays quiet. You observe the dance floor like he is, smiling slightly at the sight of Ethan and Alex dancing. The flannel you’re wearing over a gray tank hangs loosely off one shoulder, and Joel wants to reach out and touch the exposed skin. You take your last sip of whiskey, bring a finger to swipe under your bottom lip, and Joel wishes he knew what you might taste like right now. He scolds himself for fantasizing.

You don’t speak either, and you stand in silence for a while, until you eventually pop your hip, shifting closer to him. Maybe you don’t realize it, but you’re already standing so close that your arm gets pressed up against his. Neither of you acknowledge the contact, but Joel is acutely aware of how your skin burns hot against his own. He feels comforted by the affection, even if it’s unintentional.

“Want to leave?” Joel asks, and can hardly believe that the words came out of his mouth, even if he wanted them to.

You look over at him, not bothering to hide your surprise, but your expression evens out quickly, and you give him a single nod. “Yeah.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel’s still not convinced this is real. It feels too much like a dream, the weather outside is so pleasantly warm it feels like he’s floating as you walk down the street. He had never expected you to agree to leave with him, and now he doesn’t know what to do, or what to say.

The greater distance you put between yourselves and the bar, the quieter the town is. Most of Jackson’s residents are at the dance, save for the guards at the front gate and the handful of people that had been mingling just outside.

He heads in the general direction of the neighborhood, even though he lives on a different street.

“What are we supposed to do now?” you wonder out loud, and you sound a little incredulous, like you’re equally as shocked to find yourself beside him. The question carries a bit more weight than it would have coming from anyone else.

Joel contemplates. He’s not sure what he wants from you – there are a lot of things, actually – but he doesn’t know if he really deserves any of them. For now, your companionship is more than enough.

“You’re welcome to come back to mine,” he offers. “But if you’re looking to keep drinking, all the booze is back at the bar.”

“I’m good.” You shake your head like you’re uninterested, but look over at him with a sparkle in your eye. “I have something better….”

You reach into the pocket of your flannel and produce a rolled joint between two fingers, looking over your shoulder. “Those dances are usually terrible, so I always come prepared.”

Joel can’t help the chuckle that escapes him, and the sheepish grin he gets in return makes his cheeks feel warm. “Where’d you even get that?”

“You’ve never been on patrol with Eugene, have you?” you ask. “He has a place just out of town where he grows it. I’ve been helping him since we first got paired up, and in exchange, I get to sample the supply.”

Of course. Joel would’ve never imagined that was the reason you were so close with Eugene, but it suddenly makes incredible sense. He shakes his head in a combination of relief and amusement. “You really haven’t changed.”

“Oh, I’m sure I have,” you answer, smiling to yourself and looking at the ground. “But of course I haven’t shaken all my bad habits.”

“That’s not true,” Joel mutters.

“Well, you haven’t changed either, for as much as you’ve tried to convince me,” you nudge him gently, offering him the joint. “What do you think?”

Joel plucks it from between your fingers and puts it between his lips. “I think I have a lighter at home.”

“Sounds perfect.”

In the front hallway of his house, you slip out of your tennis shoes, shuffling behind him in your socks, pausing occasionally to study some of the doodles that Ellie had drawn and hung on the walls – it wasn’t exactly a priority to decorate these days, but they certainly livened up the place. He knows how much Ellie likes you, despite the fact that she doesn’t gush, but the odd comment here and there says as much. Joel remembers how difficult it had been to keep Sarah away, and Ellie now is no different. He doesn’t seem to be able to help himself, either.

You sit next to Joel on his wicker couch, curling your feet up under you as he lights the joint and study him while he takes the first few puffs. He does it without thinking. That’s how soft Jackson has made him. Normally, he’d be too stressed about being out of his wits. But he can’t see how hypervigilance has served him since settling down. He feels safe here, and somehow especially because he’s with you.

When he passes the joint your way, you look at him wistfully. “Old times,” you say with a grin.

Joel nods as he exhales, coughing. “Old times.”

“Oh yeah,” you say, as if you just remembered something. “You can’t tell Ethan about this. He doesn’t know, and he will give me shit about it. I need him to take me seriously.”

Joel shakes his head. “Well, you know, it sounds like he and Tommy both think you and Eugene are together.”

“What?” your head jerks forward in shock, eyes going wide. “Oh my god, no. Do people think that?”

“I’m just sayin’,” Joel wants to mention how he had seen you whispering to each other at the bar earlier, but then realizes it’d give a bit too much away. “That’s what they think.”

“Well....historically speaking I might’ve liked older men…. but not that old.”

Joel purses his lips. “You’ve lived here awhile, huh?” When you nod, he continues. “Has no one caught your eye?”

“Uhm….not really. But….” you trail off, looking into Joel’s backyard. “To be completely honest, I don't think about that much these days. I guess I feel like I have a lot to be grateful for. I don’t want to push it.”

Joel understands, and nods pensively.

“What about you?” you ask.

“I guess I feel the same.”

That causes you to smile a little bit, look over at him. “I bet you already know this. But the women here would line up down the block for you.”

Joel can’t help but roll his eyes, though he wonders if you would, too. Even if you did like him, that didn’t seem like your style.

“I’m serious. I’ve heard the things they whisper behind your back. All their fantasies about you are pretty creative...”

“Fantasies?” He grimaces. He imagines none of them know anything about who he really is. You’re the closest thing, and all he’s done is hurt you. “I’m sure you were quick to set them straight.”

“I don’t say anything,” you say, then continue on, a little quieter, looking at him from under your lashes. “I like to keep you to myself.”

Joel isn’t sure how to respond to that. You have every right to tell all of them that you were once together, and all the ways he’s hurt you since. Yet for some reason, you’ve chosen to protect him.

“So….all this time….” you wonder. “You had to have been with other people, right?”

Joel doesn’t think to hold back. “I had a partner for a long time. Tess. First, it was all business, I helped her smuggle things in and out of the Boston QZ…and then, I don’t know….we got along, we trusted each other and…” Joel trails off, hoping you’d put together the rest before he has to go into too much detail. “She was real fuckin’ tough. Scared me a little at first. You would’ve liked her.”

“Well, we already have one thing in common. What happened?”

“She’s the whole reason I ended up out here….with Ellie,” Joel explains. “But I lost her a little over a year ago.”

He hopes you don’t ask how. Maybe someday he’d be willing to go into detail, but talking about it generally is hard enough as it is. But fortunately, you seem to pick up on his hesitance. “I’m sorry, Joel,” you say softly.

He shakes his head. “I was an asshole. To her. I should've....after Sarah died I didn’t want to get attached, so I kept her at arms length and I... I wished I hadn’t in the end. It only made things worse.”

“Yeah,” you nod, look down. “I’ve made that mistake before.”

Joel doesn’t want to linger any longer on the memory. “What about you? Were you with anyone?”

“Uhm, yeah,” you fidget, looking uncomfortable. “I had a partner….for like ten years."

Ten years? He had been with Tess for more, but something about that information feels jarring. He’s shocked Tommy never told him this. Did Tommy even know? Suddenly, it dawns on Joel everything that could’ve happened to you since you’ve been apart. Entire lifetimes. And he’d said such horrible things when you’d fought. He remembers your face when he’d told you that you didn’t know what it was like to lose a child. Maybe you had. He’d been so cruel and inconsiderate just because he was uncomfortable.

His throat feels tight, almost scared to learn anymore. “What…what was his name?”

“Well, Bea….was her name.”

Joel is sure he doesn't hide the shock well. “Sorry, I didn’t know…”

“Yeah,” you say. “I don’t think I did either. Well, I sort of did, but I was too young I think when I first realized to make any sense of it, but…. I met her and…yeah,” then, you smirk. “I mean, I went to an all-girls school and I had a really bad relationship with my dad so…it definitely makes sense. ”

Joel considers this, smiles along with you. “But anyways. Her and I met shortly after my brother died and it was kind of the same. We kept each other alive, things developed from there. We ended up getting involved with this group who lived in the middle of nowhere. That’s a whole other story, but…” you wave your hand. “I loved her, and I lost her right before Ethan and I got here.”

Joel sees all the pain in your eyes, and wishes he could say something to take it all away. He knows he can’t. You look back out into the woods in his backyard, take a deep breath, and reach back towards the joint that you had put out not long before, lighting it again. Joel gets the sense that both of you had done the most amount of sharing possible for the time being.

“Look at us,” you take another drag before passing it over. “Old times.”

“Old times,” he repeats, a smile working its way onto his face.

“This used to be my favorite thing to do with you.”

“It was nice,” Joel agrees….hesitates before continuing. “But I can think of some things I liked better.” He gives you a knowing look, and you roll your eyes, laughing easily at his joke. It feels so good to make you laugh, to see you smile. Why had he spent so much time resisting?

“Touche.”

What happens next spills out of Joel so quickly he doesn’t think to stop it. “I tried to look for you….after all this happened. I didn’t have Sarah anymore, and I thought maybe….I don’t know. It was the only thing that kept me going for a while.”

“I did too,” you confess. “But…I was with Vincent and Ethan, and I felt like I couldn’t leave them alone for something that might just be…. I always hoped you both made it. And I’m so sorry she’s gone. I really did love her.”

“I know you did,” Joel reaches out to take your hand. “I know. And I shouldn’t have said those things I did. I’m still not sure why you’ve been so patient with me.”

“Hmm,” you shift so that you’re closer to him. “You waited around for me back then. It’s only fair that I’d wait around for you now. I want you in my life. I don’t care what that looks like. But it’s too hard to forget about a person that you loved.”

Joel wants as much from you as you’re willing to give, and he can’t tear his gaze away from you. But he wants you to see him, all of him, before he takes it.

“I’ve let a lot of people down. I’ve done a lot of h-horrible things,” his voice cracks, and tears well in his eyes.

“I have, too, you know? Those things still live with me. But I think what matters is who we are now,” you reach out, fingertips brushing the scar on his temple, and Joel swears that even if you don’t know the story behind it, you can see right through him. “And I know who you are.”

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore than I already have.”

“You won’t,” you say. “No more than anyone else has. And if it makes you feel better…when people hurt me, I’ve gotten pretty good at hurting them back.”

“If I do, I’d hope you would.”

“I will. I promise,” your thumb strokes his cheek, marveling at him. “I would suggest a blood oath or something but….I heard we kind of already did that…”

He’s given you every warning, every barrier, and you’re still here. He can’t believe it, and he doesn’t think he can hold back any longer. “Come here.”

He kisses you. He wishes that he could be slow and tender and gentle like he used to be – and certainly he’s still capable, but he realizes that he’s been depriving himself of something he wanted for so long, and can’t seem to control himself.

Your hands land on the side of his face, and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. Maybe you’re somewhat taken aback by his urgency, you hum against his lips, but you don’t resist at all. Joel maneuvers you so you’re straddling his thighs, and he grips your hips, your ass, coasts his hands up your side. Your lips part in a moan, and he slips his tongue into your mouth.

For a while, he stays there, savors the taste of you, whiskey and smoke still lingering on your lips. His hands cup your jaw, feel your body, grip and squeeze and stroke and you let him, continue to let him. He tries everything, wondering if you’ll tell him to stop, if you’ll decide you’ve had too much, but you don’t. Then again, he should know by now that you’re a woman who knows what she wants. He just finds it’s hard to believe that he’s the thing you want.

You break away from him, just a little, and Joel presses his nose to your neck, kisses your pulse point.

“Should we go upstairs?” your voice is raspy and breathless. “Will Ellie be home soon?”

“Probably not for a while. We can be quick.”

“Hopefully not too quick,” you raise your eyebrows. Joel can’t help but laugh a little. He relishes in the way your hands rake up and down his arms, exploring him, touching him. Of course he wants you, but even just this would be enough. He’d be content with less, he hadn’t realized how starved of affection he’d been.

You’re able to pry yourselves off one another to make it up the stairs, and Joel guides you with a hand to the small of your back. When you get to his bedroom, he opens the door, but stops you before you go inside.

“Hold on,” Joel mutters, winding one arm around your waist, the other behind your knee.

“Joel, what-no, you’ll–” he pulls you into his arms.

“Do you really think I’m not strong enough?”

“I didn’t say that,” you chuckle as he carries you over the threshold and into the bedroom, breath puffing against him before he lays you down on the bed.

When he hovers over you, your fingers wind into his hair, nails raking against his scalp. He savors every sweet sigh he’s able to pull from you, hands cupping your breasts and squeezing your hips. You’re so pliant and open beneath his body, it makes it easier to not feel guilty about what he’s doing. He knows he shouldn’t feel guilty, you’ve said as much, but it might take some time before the feeling will die completely. Hopefully, he has enough time with you to see it off completely.

Clothes are removed quickly, intentionally, as you both bare more and more of yourself to each other. And while he wishes he could’ve been there to see the ways in which your body has changed, you’re still as beautiful as ever.

Joel, however, is hesitant to give himself away completely. When you tug at the hem of his shirt, he hesitates.

“I don’t know if-” he pauses. “If you want to see all that.”

“Joel,” you stare at him knowingly, kneeling across from him as he stands at the edge of the bed. “I do.”

So he releases your hand, and lets you pull it over his head. Carefully, you study him, his body littered with scars. He knows he’s not as in shape as you remember. These days, he hardly can look at himself in the mirror after a shower. He expects you to be disgusted, or at least see it flit across your face before you compose yourself, but you don’t. Your fingertips drag through the smattering of hair on his chest and down his torso, tracing several prominent scars – each one with a story – but you linger on the one at his abdomen, frowning.

He sees the question on your face, but you don’t ask it. Instead, you return to press yourself against him. “I’m so glad you’re still here….”

You kiss him, then, and Joel can only kiss you back.

Joel isn’t the only one with battle scars. Some of them he feels are his fault, but you seem less self-concious about them, which gives him a surprising amount of confidence. Maybe it’s just a reality of what happens when you make it this long.

When you’re finally bare beneath him, he admires how you look, stretched out and waiting, chest heaving and shivering with anticipation. He slides his hand between your legs – feels you already wet and warm, sinking two fingers inside. Your walls flutter around the intrusion, back arcing off the bed when you sigh out his name. Joel.

He’d forgotten how nice it felt to hear that.

Joel is already thinking about what he’d like to do to you next time. He’d be more careful, more patient. He’d bury his face between your thighs to see if you tasted as good as he remembers, he’d let your fingers curl into his hair. But right now you both seem desperate for the same thing.

He pumps his cock a few times with his hand, he can’t remember the last time he’d been this hard – the last time he’s wanted anyone this badly. Even with Tess, it had always felt like the both of them were hurrying to scratch an itch, her eyes would wander like she was thinking of other people, and maybe he was, too.

Joel lines himself up with your slick cunt, teases you a little, and you roll your body down to meet him, gasping when his blunt head slides in – just a little.

He can’t hold back. You practically suck him in, so tight and hot around him he finds it immediately overwhelming, but he doesn’t even think to pull out. Only when he’s fully seated inside you, and given you a chance to adjust, does he start to move.

It’s euphoric. You’re both older now, more mature, but he still remembers all the things you liked, even if it takes a moment for him to find the spot inside you that makes you cry out, legs wrapping around his hips.

Unlike before, you don’t bother trying to hide from him. You kiss him, hold him, touch him, look him in the eyes, tell him how good he feels – you don’t hold back. Joel relishes every word you say, clings to the praise and gives it back. Your lashes flutter when he tells you how pretty you look.

He can think of nothing else other than bringing you pleasure, can tell you’re getting close when you begin to rut against him, and he reaches down to let the pads of his fingers slide over your clit.

When you come, you whine his name, lock your lips with his own and he swallows your moans. The feeling of you so impossibly tight and wet and pulsing and squeezing him so tightly has him following closely after.

His head is still buried in the crook of your neck when you speak again. “God, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

The second Joel pulls out, he starts missing how close he felt to you. But you fix that by rolling over onto your stomach, curling up at his side, head on his chest, and arm across his stomach.

“Joel. Fuck, you’re so perfect.”

He’s far from it. But he’s starting to think if you say it enough, maybe he’ll start to believe it. He turns his head to kiss you gently, slowly. “So are you.”

“We can do this again, right?” you ask.

“Yes,” he says. “Yes, we can.”

“Good,” you settle back against him, and very slowly, he dozes off with you right beside him. He doesn’t want to sleep alone again, and luckily, he doesn’t have to.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-December 4th, 2026-

When you return home from patrol, you find Joel in his living room – boots off and socked feet propped on the arm of the couch. You don’t notice his eyes are closed, that he’s asleep, until you get closer, see the book he’d been reading resting on his chest as he snores lightly. You can’t help but feel for him – he’s probably exhausted from constant patrols, so he must be tired.

But mostly, you’re just overwhelmed by the love you feel for him, catching him in a quiet moment of vulnerability. Hesitantly, you reach out and squeeze his foot. It’s gentle and tender enough that he blinks his eyes open and looks around, taking in his surroundings, rather than jolting awake like he often does. When he sees you on the opposite end of the couch, he melts back into the pillow he’s propped against.

“Hey, stud,” you lean against the arm of the couch.

“Hey,” Joel answers, voice still gruff with sleep. “How long was I out?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I just got in.”

“Hmm,” Joel closes his eyes again, folds his hands across his stomach.

“You’re wearing the glasses I got you,” you point out. They’re simple. Rectangular black frames. You’d found them on patrol, and brought them home after Joel had been complaining that he could barely see when he read before bed. But he’d tried them on and insisted he hated the way they looked, so you’d ended up using them most of the time.

“They do work,” he grumbles, like he’s ashamed to admit it. “But I still think they look stupid.”

“You look like a sexy librarian,” Joel rolls his eyes, but you can tell he’s suppressing a grin. There’s always a bit of defiance about him, he can’t fully admit how you get him so flustered even after you’ve spent so much time together. You press your thumb into the arch of his foot and he groans. “That feel good?” you ask.

“Yes.”

“Whatcha reading?” You gesture towards the book.

“Some book about the moon landing,” Joel lifts it off of his chest, where it lay face down and open, looks at the back cover. “For Ellie.”

“How sweet.”

“It’s a little dry,” he deadpans. “But she likes this stuff.”

You shift your massage to his other foot. Joel stretches, his arms lifting above his head, the shirt he’s wearing rides up just so, so you see a sliver of his lower belly before it disappears again, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“Are you tired?” you ask.

“Always,” he says through a yawn.

“Me too,” you yawn along with him, since they’re contagious. He pulls the glasses from their perch on the bridge of his nose and shuts the book, placing them both on the coffee table in front of him. You take your hands off his feet and he sits up a little straighter, holding out his hand.

“Come ‘ere,” he says, and you do.

He grunts as you settle into his arms, head nestled against his chest, sprawling out almost on top of him, the only way you both can fit like this on the couch.

“You’re so warm,” you say softly, letting him wrap his arms around you.

“You’re cold. Your hands are freezing,” he holds them in his own.

“It’s cold out.”

“Don’t know why you left today.”

“Obligations. Patrol.”

“Fuck that.”

You laugh into his chest, pausing for a moment before speaking again. “You know, I think we might be boring.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, we don’t really leave the house. We spend all day reading. And we’re old.”

“We’re not that old.”

“But we’re getting up there.”

“Sure, but…” Joel trails off.

“Everything’s so quiet, so calm.”

“I think that’s what most people would describe as content.”

“Are you content?” you ask, lifting your head to look him in the eyes.

“I’m happy,” he says softly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ears. “Are you?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Then don’t worry about the rest.”

“Okay,” you settle back against your husband's chest, feel his lips brush your forehead.

His fingers search absentmindedly for the ring on your finger he’d found while clearing out a pawn shop not too long ago. The one he wore looked nothing like your own. But the marriage had been long overdue, and neither of you cared what the rings actually looked like.

Nowadays, you split your time between his place with Ellie, and your own with Ethan, but end up in his bed every night. At this point, you don’t think you could sleep without him.

Years ago, another lifetime, you’d had a conversation underneath a sky full of stars. You’d told him that for you, good things had never lasted. Joel had made a promise.

This will.

It took time. There was a lot of pain. But in the end, he had told you the truth.

638 notes · View notes

etherealxwitch · 2 years

Text

Safe Word

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: After a long day at work you just want to relax but the night has something else in store for you.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), angst, some fluff at the end, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, hair pulling, choking, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, use of safe word, eddie feeling guilty, comforting

WC: 2.3

(first thing writing something like this, hope you enjoy!)

Remember to reblog and support the author!

It was a rough day at work and all you wanted to do was come home and relax. You were overworked and every part of your body was so sore. That all changed once you plopped on Eddie’s living room couch and he walked in with a mischievous smile plastered on his face.

“Hey, baby.” He sat beside you and put your legs in your lap, rubbing them softly. “I’ve got a little idea for us.”

Even though you were tired, your interest peaked. “Oh, an idea?” You sat up closer to him, your head resting on his broad shoulder. “Are you gonna tell me or keep me guessing?” The look he gave you sent a chill down your spine, his eyes were growing darker by the second.

“Well,” his fingers traced up your thighs, barely grazing where they met your hips, “I watched porn earlier and..”

Eddie’s voice trailed off, almost as if he didn’t want to say what was on his mind. “I-I wanna get you to squirt for me.”

You choked on air, your face immediately becoming heated. All the things he could have possibly said and you would have never guessed that it would be this. By the time you had barely nodded, just taking in his words, Eddie had already thrown you over his shoulders. “Eddie! Put me down.” You gently smacked his back as he just laughed at you.

His hand came down and smacked your ass, making you whimper just a bit. “I saw you nod, it’s fair game now.” Eddie laid you down on his bed, hovering over you for a moment? “Are you positive you want to try this? I won’t hold it against you if you decide not to.”

Thinking about it for a quick second, you nodded again. “I’m sure, Eddie.” Your hand came up to cup his cheek before you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his soft and plump lips. “I trust you, and if this is something you want to do then so do I.”

Quickly, his lips pressed back to yours, peppering kisses across your cheeks and then working down to your neck. You leaned your neck to the side, giving him more access as you brought your hands up to tangle in his curls. You gave them a tug and smirked to yourself when you heard a groan and his breath fanned across your neck.

“I promise to make you feel so good,” Eddie nibbles along your neck, leaving small hickeys here and there. “Just want you to be nothing but a mess for me.”

“I’m always a mess for you,” you gave him a small wink when he looked up at you. “Just your mess.”

Eddie’s cold hands slipped under your shirt, earning him a small gasp. He pulled his lips away long enough to slip the shirt over your head, but once off, his lips were right back to attacking your skin. They trailed kisses down your neck to your boobs, nibbling over the soft skin. His thumb traced over your clothed nipple, smirking to himself as he got harder with each small touch. You were already putty in his hands and you were sure he was going to have his way with you.

When you arched forward, Eddie’s hands snaked behind your back and reached for the clasp of your bra. “Let’s get this off you, yeah?” He quickly went to work, easily undoing the clasp and sliding the straps down your shoulders, his lips following them. “Look at you,” his tongue poked out and swiped over one of your hardened nipples. “Just so ready for me, aren’t you?”

You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging just a bit. “So ready, Eddie.” Your hips wiggle against his leg more, dousing a small whimper to escape you. “Want you to make me squirt, Eddie.”

”I’ll do just that, baby,” his fingers popped the button of your pants before pulling them and your panties down your legs in one swift mood. His eyes found your soaked pussy, watching just how glistening wet you really were. “Fuck, I’m going to devour every bit of you.”

The second his tongue swiped across your swollen clit, his name left your lips. His plump lips wrapped around and suckled at it, making an obscene sound as he did so. “That’s it, baby.” Eddie pinned your legs back, your thighs resting against your boobs, “make those pretty noises for me.”

This new position allowed him to pump his tongue in and out of you so deeply, you could already feel your first orgasm of the night building up. “Oh my god, yes.” You bucked your hips against his tongue as he pulled it out and flattened it against your clit. “P-please don’t stop.”

Eddie didn’t answer you, instead he sucked on your clit more; harder than the time before. He shook his head side to side, gently pulling and nibbling at it. Your body couldn’t take it any longer and before you knew it, you were cumming against his tongue. “Y-yes!.” You ground your hips, riding out your orgasm for as long as you could before Eddie pulled his face away, it being covered in nothing but your cum and his spit.

“Hope you don’t think we’re done yet,” Eddie stood up from the bed and stripped himself of his clothes. His hard cock sprung up and made a wet sound, precum leaking from the slit. “We’re gonna make you cum until you’re squirting all over this bed.”

You barely had time to recover from the first orgasm before you felt the hard tip of Eddie’s cock rub against your clit. “You ready?” All you had to do was nod your head before Eddie was slowly sliding in, giving you a chance to feel every part of his throbbing cock inside your very soaked pussy. “God, such a perfect pussy for me. Isn’t that right, baby?”

“Uhuh, it’s your perfect pussy.” You looked down at where the two of you were connected, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy at the right pace.

Eddie’s rough hands grabbed at your hips, his thumbs running over the soft skin before pulling you against his cock. Each thrust of his hips meeting yours was sending his cock into your g-spot repeatedly. Your mind goes to mush between his thrusts and dirty talk.

The sound of skin slapping and wetness could be heard echoing off the walls of the small room, adding to the pleasure just a bit. “Yeah, you hear that, baby?” His thumb finds your clit, rubbing at it in time with his thrusts. “That’s all you.”

You reach down and squeeze your boobs together, pulling and pinching your sensitive nipples. “Feels s-so good, Eddie.” The words you spoke came out barely coherent, you were too focused on the pleasure. You were already so close, your second orgasm quickly creeping up on you. “Wanna cum on your cock, please!”

“Let me hear you beg better than that,” his hand ran up your body, stopping to get a good grip on your neck. “And maybe I’ll think about it.” He smirked down at you, knowing that you could beg a lot better than you already have.

“Eddie, god, please! I’ll do anything you want, I promise.” To make matters worse, Eddie’s thumb had added more pressure to your clit, adding to the pleasure inside you. “Baby… please.”

“Anything? C’mon baby, cum all over my cock.”

That was all you needed to hear. Your thighs shook around Eddie as your second orgasm tore through every nerve of your body. A silent moan left you as Eddie fucked you through the orgasm, the squelching sound between you two growing louder by the second.

“That’s it, cream on my cock, baby.” Eddie’s hips slowly stilled as your body began to recover and stop shaking. He pulled out long enough to flip you over and slide right back into you. “Your cum is making it even more easy to slide so deep inside you.”

Your head fell against the pillows below you and Eddie didn’t like that. He raked your hand through your hair and pulled your head up by your hair, “no, no. I wanna hear those moans, baby.” His hips smacked into yours rough, his heavy balls slapping against your clit.

“E-Eddie, yes. Right fucking there.”

“Yeah? Right here?” Eddie thrusted again right into your g-spot causing your body to jolt. “Keep clenching around my cock, baby. You’re gonna make me cum.” His body leaned over yours, his tongue licking up your spine. “Want me to cum in your pussy? Want me to fill you full and get you pregnant?” Eddie moved your hair from your face and kissed your neck.

“Oh, f-fuck yes! Please cum in me.” Your hips bucked back against Eddie’s cock and clenched around him. He groaned right by your ear, your body shaking in response. “Want it to leak out of me.” You whined, feeling his cock start to pulse inside you.

“I-I’m cumming, shit.” Eddie’s one hand on your hip gripped at you harder, sure enough to leave bruises for you to see tomorrow morning. “Cum with me baby, I know you want to.”

Eddie’s hand left your hair and found your clit, rubbing at a vigorous pace before he felt you clench around his cock. You felt yourself cum around it, your body going limp and falling forward against the mattress. “H-holy fuck.”

When Eddie pulled out, you could feel your mixed cum drip out of you and down your shaking thighs. “Look at that, just a leaking little slut.” He kissed the globe of your ass before shoving the cum back in with two of his fingers. “Don’t want this going to waste, do we?”

Your whole body was sensitive, every nerve on your body felt like it was on fire.

“I know you got more in you, baby.” Eddie’s free hand smacked against your ass. You yelped in pleasure and Eddie took that opportunity to slide another finger inside your pussy, crooking them perfectly. “Want you to squirt for me, baby. Want you to give me everything you got.”

Each thrust of your body quickly turned from pleasure to something else. You felt bubbling up inside your stomach, but instead of the feeling to cum it was becoming painful. You tried your hardest to push it to the back of your mind, but when Eddie added his thumb to the mix, you had to let out a gasp.

“I-I can’t,” you pushed away a little, but Eddie only finger fucked you harder.

Eddie tutted at you, smacking at your clit with your other hand. “I know you can, just let go for me.”

You shook your head, gripping the sheets below you. The pain became way too much to handle and before you could realize what was happening, you blurred out your safe word. “R-red, red!”

Eddie stopped his movements, quickly pulling his fingers out of you and away from your body. The whole room went quiet, so quiet that you could hear a pen drop from the other side of the room. Tears pricked out of your eyes and slowly fell down your cheeks and Eddie’s face immediately softened. You could see the fear in his eyes; the fear that he hurt you.

“Baby, I-, fuck.” He moved from the bottom of the bed to sit beside you, pulling your body flush against his. “I’m so fucking sorry, I just thought..”

Eddie tried to rub your thigh soothingly, but you scooted away. Any touch head your pussy was too much for you, your whole body feeling off.

“I just wanted to try something new and I-,” Eddie tried his best to apologize but he felt so bad that he didn’t have any idea of what to say. “Do you need anything? I can get you some water, or? Are you okay? Do you need me to leave?” He went to get out of the bed, but you reached a shaky hand from him, beckoning him to stay in bed with you. “I’ll stay, okay?”

Eddie’s mind was rushing a mile a minute. He never thought this would happen and he felt so stupid for pushing too far. He knew that he should’ve never brought up squirting to you because now you were too overstimulated. Eddie never meant for this to happen.

You nuzzled your head against Eddie’s chest and sniffled, wiping the stray tears away. “Baby, I’m so fucking sorry.” He rubbed your head and kissed your cheek, wiping some tears that you missed.

“No, no. I’m sorry, I should’ve kept going or-,” Eddie immediately stopped you, shaking his head. This wasn’t your fault and he wasn’t about to have you apologize for something that he did.

“God, no. This is far from your fault, you did nothing wrong, okay?” He pulled away to look into your eyes, looking for an answer that you understood. “Never think that this was your fault, I pushed too far.”

Eddie’s fingers traced shapes against your skin as he felt you heart slow to a normal rate against his chest. You had finally calmed down and he was thankful that you did. He wouldn’t be able to leave with himself if he actually hurt you or pushed you away too far.

“Maybe next time we take it slow?” You wrapped your hand around his and played with his rings absentmindedly. “Neither of us take the blame for this and learn from this?” When you looked into Eddie’s eyes, you saw a bit of hope behind him. You didn’t want him to think that you two would never have sex again or anything, you just needed some time.

“I love you so fucking much,” he kissed your forehead and pulled a cover over the both of you. “I’m still so sorry… I’m just glad you spoke up. Don’t want you to ever feel like you have to endure anything for me.”

You gave him a soft smile, your body finally feeling normal again. “I love you too, Eddie.”

tagging: @onehotgreasymechanic @dixontardis @thefreakofhawkins86 @hellfire-isnt-it @wroteclassicaly @magnoliabutters @corrodedcorpsess @trashmouth-richie @sherrylyn628

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #bee’s st fics

1K notes · View notes

taeyongdoyoung · 7 months

Text

summary: things between you and your mom escalate and you make the impulsive decision to move in with your online friend who saves your life and shines like the brightest star... pairing: seonghwa x reader genre: angst, fluff, smut; online friends to roommates+lovers warnings: swearing, mommy issues, suicidal thoughts, insecurities, crying, pet names, eating out, blowjob, protected sex, praise kink, mommy kink, one (1) bad star wars joke, the nbhd references, subspace (kinda?), lowkey possessive hwa, one bed trope (but there is a couch, they just ignore it) author's note: this is incredibly personal and i felt so vulnerable while writing it but i better post it real quick before i chicken out 🙃 the title is inspired by the neighbourhood's daddy issues (remix) even though reader has mommy issues lol word count: 4.3k

You are cooped up in your room, physically shaking. You have no tears left to cry so you are laughing hysterically at the absurdity of it all. You were so tired of it. You love your mom, you really do. You would never do anything to harm her. But you are absolutely sick of the way she was treating you. Always belittling your interests, not letting you go out past a certain hour even though you were old enough to do so, yelling at you for the smallest mistakes, suffocating you with her unrealistic expectations, saying you were stupid and would never amount to anything if it hadn't been for her strict parenting style, even though you had practically sacrificed your mental health and social life to get high grades. And whenever you brought up all the ways in which she'd hurt you, she would try to gaslight you and pull shit like: "I never said that." "You're being overdramatic." "You're so ungrateful." All your friends said you deserved better. They tried their best to support you emotionally. But words could only do so much. You need out. If you stayed another moment in this toxic environment, you felt like you would do something terrible to yourself. Something there was no coming back from.

The only person you feel like talking to right now was your online friend Seonghwa. You'd met him on a Star Wars forum eight months ago and you'd been talking to each other pretty much every free minute. He was your light in the darkness and brought you so much happiness you couldn't remember what your life before him had been like. He always knew just what to say and comforted you like nobody else could. And when you didn't feel like talking, he distracted you successfully by organizing streaming sessions for the two of you. He is, for lack of a better word, perfect. There is only one downside. He lives thousands of kilometres away from you.

You: Talk to me. About anything. Please? Starshine98: What happened??? You: I don't wanna talk about it. I don't even wanna think about it. Starshine98: Got it. Your mom, right? You: Is my tragic existence so transparent? Starshine98: Whatever she said, you know it's not your fault. You: I know. But Hwa…it hurts so much I feel like dying. I can't do this anymore. Starshine98: Don't say that. You are so important to me. And to your friends. And to your mom, as well, even if she has a messed up way of showing it. You: Still….I need to get out of here as soon as possible but I can't do that without getting a stable job first. And it's so hard to find one. Starshine98: What if you came to live with me? My apartment has enough space for two… You: You live across the world? I can't even afford a plane ticket. Starshine98: Don't worry about money, I'll send you an E-ticket. You: I can't ask you to do that… Starshine98: You're not asking, I'm offering. You're going through something traumatic and you obviously need a change of scenery. I'm not asking you to stay with me forever, just for as long as you need to take care of your mental health. Just say the word and I'll buy the ticket. You: This is far too generous of you. Starshine98: I'm not as selfless as you think. I'm so worried about your well-being that keeping an eye on you myself would help me sleep better at night. You: Sweet. Starshine98: So? What do you say? You: Fuck it. Let's do this.

A couple of minutes later you receive a digital plane ticket from Seonghwa. The feeling of staring at it is so surreal you feel like you might pass out. You quickly pack only the bare essentials into a bag and scribble a letter to your parents. You know your mom will be furious and your dad will be worried sick but still, you want to leave the apartment while she's still asleep to avoid the confrontation. This is the best decision you could have possibly made in this situation. And for the first time in forever, you are finally doing something impulsive, something crazy without asking for permission. And damn, does it make you feel alive.

As you get off the plane, your eyes scan the airport for Seonghwa. You debate turning on your phone but then you would be faced with missed calls from your parents and right now, you are not ready to face the reality of what you've done. Luckily enough, you quickly spot a large sign with your name on it. It's him! You rush through the crowd and directly into his arms. He drops the sign in disbelief and gives you the tightest hug possible. This is insane. You can't believe you're actually here.

"Hi, sweet girl," Seonghwa says and his voice sound even lovelier than during the video chats you've had with him.

"Hi, starshine," you chuckle nervously.

"How was your flight?" he asks.

"Couldn't wait for it to be over," you admit.

"Yeah? You wanted to see me that bad?" Hwa teases you.

"More like couldn't wait to visit Seoul," you joke. "Go sightseeing."

"Sorry to disappoint but I'm taking you home first."

Home. You liked the sound of that.

"This is my room, this is the living room, this is the kitchen and this is the bathroom. Any questions?" Seonghwa inquires after he's done showing you around his apartment.

"Um, not to sound ungrateful but…where will I…you know, sleep?" you ask.

"My room, obviously. I'll take the couch in the living room," Hwa shrugs.

"What? No, Hwa, I can't…this is your apartment. I would feel so guilty I wouldn't fall asleep at all."

"Do you have another suggestion?"

"Duh! I will sleep on the couch!"

Seonghwa shakes his head, visibly distressed by the idea.

"It's pretty cold in the living room. You'll be more comfortable in my room."

"Well…we could share the bed, then? You do have a king size. If…that's okay with you."

"Are you sure?" Hwa wants to know.

You nod without thinking too much into it.

"You're my best friend and I just moved across the world. Sharing a bed with you does not worry me."

"Alright. Let me know if you need anything, I'll try to get it for you."

"Right now I just need a hug."

Seonghwa abides by your wishes and soon enough, the two of you find yourselves cuddling under the warm blanket. Minutes later you are crying and spilling the beans about your latest fight with your mom. When you tell him the whole story, he feels like throwing up.

"H-how could she say that to her own d-daughter?" Hwa stammers in disbelief.

You notice tears falling down his beautiful cheeks and trace a finger against his skin.

"Honestly? I'm kinda used to it. But it was so bad I couldn't take it anymore."

"You're not supposed to. You're a literal angel, I don't understand her behaviour at all."

You give him a sad smile.

"I'm not a saint, either. I mean, I've kept secrets from her and stuff. I just wish things could get resolved by communicating but she always refuses to hear my side of the story."

"The only reason why you've kept secrets was to protect your sanity. She's being unreasonable for not letting you follow your passions. What kind of a parent would say such harmful things?"

"Right?" you laugh bitterly. "You get me like no one else."

Seonghwa strokes your hair lovingly and kisses your forehead.

"My darling girl. You deserve so much better."

"Sometimes I wish you were my mom," in a moment of intense vulnerability, you murmur without thinking but the words are already out of your mouth and it's too late to take them back.

"W-what?" Hwa appears taken aback.

"S-sorry, I don't know what's gotten into me," you cover your face with your hands.

"Say it again. Please."

You take a peek nervously. His reaction is not one of disgust as you feared but rather…curiosity?

"I wish you were my mom," you repeat, your cheeks flushed with color.

"Do you know what I'd do if I were your mom?" Seonghwa asks.

You shake your head, desperately needing to hear what he's thinking.

"If you were my little girl, I'd do whatever I could do to keep you safe and protect you, make sure no one could hurt you, least of all me. I'd let you follow your passions. If you went out at night, I'd be worried sick, of course, but I'd be happy you're having fun with your friends. I'd tell you I'm proud of you no matter what grades you got. If you kept secrets from me, I wouldn't yell at you, but I'd ask myself what I did wrong. You know why? Because I trust you. And I care about you so deeply that I'd like to win your trust, too."

Your vision is blurry with tears. You feel like Hwa just fixed something he didn't break. Whatever he has to offer, you want all of it.

"I'd like that very much."

"You'd let me take care of you? Call you mine?" Seonghwa needs to know.

"Yes, please."

"My precious girl," he purrs in your ear.

"Hwa…just to be clear, what does that make us?" you ask, confused about the line between friendship and…whatever this is.

"What do you want us to be? Girlfriend and boyfriend? Daughter and…mom? Friends with benefits?"

You chuckle at the variety of labels he suggests.

"I think I'd like to be your girlfriend. If you'll have me," you blink, suddenly feeling insecure. You don't have much to offer. But whatever little you have, you're willing to give to him.

"I will. And I'd be honoured to be your boyfriend."

You bury your head into his chest, overwhelmed with positive feelings and excitement for the future that awaits the two of you.

"Let me take you out on a date tomorrow. But first, you need sleep."

"Okay, mom," you laugh wholeheartedly. "Will you sing me a lullaby?"

"Anything for my best girl," Seonghwa promises.

The following day he takes you to a really lovely date at a local restaurant and treats you so well, like no one else before in your life. You feel so blessed and lucky to have met him that there are not enough words to describe how grateful you are to him. Not just for letting you move in with him without expecting anything in return (though that was an immensely generous gesture on his side). The reason you are grateful the most is that he accepts you with all your flaws and scarred past, he shows you such understanding and care you have only dreamed about. He is truly your shining star guiding your path through the dark and into the light.

In the evening, you finally muster up the courage to turn on your phone. You call your dad and with tears in your eyes, explain the circumstances around your latest fight with your mom and why you decided to move in with Seonghwa. Your dad is worried, of course, but he says he gets why you did it, as he has witnessed some encounters when your mom has said hurtful things to you. Though he has not explicitly stood up for you, in your private conversations, he has shown you support and eagerly awaited the day you were independent from her. He tells you your mom was furious at first but now she is just…sad. You promise you will talk to her when you feel ready but for the time being, you need some space. Your dad respects your decision and you hang up.

"You did well," Seonghwa praises you, enveloping you in a warm hug.

"Thanks," you whisper sadly.

"Shall we go to bed?" he asks.

"Aw, man, I was in such a hurry to pack that I forgot my favourite frog plushie!" you exclaim in annoyance. "I can't sleep without it."

"Last night you had no trouble falling asleep, though?" Seonghwa gently reminds you.

"You're right!" you cry out in amazement.

"I'll get you a million plushies tomorrow but for now you'll have to settle for me."

"You know what? You're more than enough. You're my favourite plushie from now on!" you smile, wrapping your arms around his waist.

You've had the happiest week of your life. Seonghwa shows you around the city, taking you to adorable cafés, sightseeing and eating ramen by the Han river. The two of you take tons of pictures together and spend a lot of quality time. He even introduces you to his friend San and convinces him to let you work at his bookshop, which is honestly a dream job.

One morning, you wake up feeling uncharacteristically hot. Something hard is pressed against your ass. Could that be…You freeze at the realization. You wonder whether to rush out of bed. But then you risk Seonghwa waking up and you don't want him feeling embarrassed over something completely natural. You could pretend you're still asleep? But your breathing is too irregular and your skin is practically on fire. What should you do? Before you can make up your mind, you feel Seonghwa shifting behind you and the space has never felt emptier.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles sleepily.

"What are you sorry for?" you ask even though the answer is quite apparent.

"For…you know, getting hard."

"It's fine, it's a normal human reaction."

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or objectified. I mean…you are hot and I've obviously thought about you before in impure ways but…I like you so much I don't want you to feel pressured or anything. You're incredibly special to me, baby."

You finally turn around to face him.

"You are the most precious person in my life, Seonghwa," you whisper. "And like, if you want me, I'm all yours. No pressure."

"But…wouldn't you want to wait longer?" he asks cautiously.

"Whenever you want, my star," you smile eagerly, hoping he takes the bait.

"Fuck it," Hwa mutters under his breath and crashes his lips into yours.

You kiss him back impatiently and bury your fingers into his soft hair. He pulls you closer to him by the waist, digging his fingers into your lower back.

"If you want to stop at any moment, just let me know, okay?" Seonghwa breaks the kiss to reassure you.

You are so touched by his words that tears are already welled up in your eyes.

"Okay. Same goes for you."

"Trust me, darling, I wouldn't want to stop," Hwa promises and buries his head into your neck, inhaling the scent of you.

He spends a long time pressing kisses everywhere he could think of: your neck, your cheeks, your hair, your nose, your collarbones, your tummy, your ears, your thighs until finally, he reaches your pussy. Guiding your legs apart with a gentle but firm hand, you are afraid of melting right there. He eats you out hungrily, his ridiculously long tongue doing wonders to your senses. Needing something to hold on to, you tug on his hair, hopeful that you are not hurting him. He starts making circular motions, increasing the pleasure. It does not take you long to finish, completely falling apart.

"I think I just died a little," you admit, laughing.

"Well, the French did call it la petite mort," Seonghwa shrugs.

"Ah, yes. The little death," you smile, fondly recalling your French classes. "I wouldn't be a good guest if I didn't return the favour, no?"

You wrap your lips around the head of his cock, looking up at him to see if you're doing a good job.

"You're not a guest. I want you to feel at home," Seonghwa says and you try to take him deeper into your mouth. "You don't have to- Oh!"

You smirk as you swirl your tongue against his cock, doing your best to bring him closer to the edge.

"Such a good girl. My girl, yes?" he murmurs.

You can't verbablly respond so you nod your head frantically. Your hand is wrapped around the part of him you can't physically fit in and you blink the tears away, attempting to focus on breathing through your nose. You move your head and up down, desperately staring into his eyes to make sure he's enjoying every second of it. Soon enough, he reaches his high, sending ropes of cum down your throat. You try to swallow, not waste any drop of it.

Seonghwa strokes your cheek with his hand.

"You did so great for me," he praises you and you feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"T-thank you," you stutter nervously.

"You don't have to thank me," Seonghwa chuckles in confusion and flips you around so that you are lying on your back. He leans down and kisses you again even more sensually than before but with as much tenderness. "You wanna stop?"

"No, please, don't stop," you are not too proud for begging.

"M'kay, lemme just grab protection real quick and I'll be back," he grins.

"Oh, I feel quite protected with you by my side, but I get what you mean," you tease him, excited to take the next step in your relationship.

True to his promise, Hwa returns moments later, flexing a condom in his hand.

"Protection," he repeats in a cute voice, while he puts it on.

"And here I thought you were gonna show me your lightsaber," you joke.

Seonghwa dramatically places a hand on his heart, feigning offense.

"I already did," he plays along and you can't stop yourself from bursting into laughter.

God, he really is the best guy in the universe. Your thoughts are further confirmed when he slowly teases your entrance with just the tip, making sure you are okay.

"You good? Should I go deeper?"

"Hwa, my angel, you can do anything to me and chances are I'd like it," you reassure him confidently.

"Careful what you wish for," Seonghwa smirks and slides in, making you feel so full and complete.

"Ngh," your sweet little cries are enough to give him the needed push to not hold himself back any longer. He fucks into you with so much vigour and passion you are on the verge of disintegrating.

"My gorgeous girl. You like that?"

"Yes, mommy," the words slip out of your mouth before you could think twice about it. His movements come to a sudden halt, causing you to realize what you've just said. Out loud. Ugh, you feel equally mortified and turned on.

"Mommy, huh?" he chuckles lightly.

"S-sorry," you hide your face behind your palms.

"It's okay, I can be your mommy," Seonghwa grabs your wrists and pushes your hands above your head. "I'll take good care of you, yeah? Wish you could see yourself, my most precious girl."

"Hwa, please, I mean…mommy, need you so badly," you stumble through your words weakly.

"I'm right here, my sweet baby, I'll give you what you need," he plays along. "Does mommy's cock feel good inside you?"

"S-so g-good, mommy, thank you, thank you so much," it hasn't even been that long and you already feel fucked out, utterly and irreversibly at his mercy.

"Don't thank me, dearest, I'm just treating you the way you deserve," Seonghwa vows and before you know it, you are clenching around his cock, while he is spilling inside the condom.

You can't think, can't speak, can't do anything. Nothing exists in your mind anymore. Just him. The universe is completely blank save for that one shining star. You fail to register him leaving the room to dispose of the plastic and don't notice when he returns.

"Honey?" he says softly but his voice feels so distant. Kilometres away. You can't bring yourself to form a verbal response. "Are you okay?"

Seonghwa places gentle kisses on your cheeks in an attempt to bring you back to reality.

"Come back to me, darling, please, talk to me, I'm scared," he mumbles in between kisses.

"Hwa?" are your first words. Like a newborn baby looking for the comfort that only a true mother figure could provide.

"You're safe with me," Seonghwa tells you. "No one can hurt you here."

"I don't deserve you," you are suddenly crying, overwhelmed by how cared for and loved he's making you feel.

"Don't say that ever again, you hear me?" he speaks firmly but kindly, nonetheless. "You deserve to be happy. Am I making you happy?"

"So happy, you have no idea how much," you try your best to convince him for your sincerity.

"That's all I need to know," he nods. "Let me draw a bath for you and-"

You summon all the strength you have left and grip his hand as tightly as you physically can't.

"Don't leave me."

"I'm not leaving you," Seonghwa picks you up with ease and carries you all the way to the bathroom.

Once inside the warm bath, you are more capable to form full sentences and communicate what just happened with a clearer head.

"I'm sorry for springing up the whole mommy thing without discussing it in advance," you tell him.

"I don't mind, honestly. In fact, I think I'm perfect for the role."

You smile fondly and nudge his shoulder.

"Still. From now on, I'll try my best to talk about introducing anything new beforehand. It's only fair."

"Whatever makes you feel comfortable," he kisses your forehead as he rubs shampoo into your scalp. "But just so you know, I could never be mad at you."

"What if I want you to get mad every once in a while? You know…spank me for being a bad girl?" you suggest teasingly.

"Then, I'd be happy to oblige," Seonghwa replies enthusiastically and starts tickling you in a playful manner.

It is true that time heals all wounds and distance makes the heart grow fonder. A while later, you feel ready to talk to your mom again (somewhat influenced by your dad's pleading and Seonghwa's reassurance).

"Hi, mom," you greet her calmly over the phone.

"Hi, sweetie. I've missed you," she admits.

"Me too," and it's true. Even though she hurt you, you still love her.

"Have you been eating well?"

"Yeah, don't worry about that."

"Listen…I'm sorry for saying hurtful things and being so hard on you. I only do that because I think you're so smart and have the potential to do great things."

"Well you have a funny way of showing it," you chuckle dryly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…you never praise me for anything. I spent so many years trying to get your approval that I didn't stop for a second to think whether I was doing what I truly loved."

"I understand," your mom says. "I know it might be too late but I'll try to do better. If you'll let me."

"It's not too late. But I'm not coming back to live with you. I've got a boyfriend and a job here. And I'm…actually happy."

"I'm glad to hear that, sweetheart. You will visit eventually, right?"

"I will in the summer. I want us to work on our relationship," you explain patiently.

"Until then…we can Skype or something?" your mom suggests.

"Yeah, mom, we can do that," you laugh. "If you figure how to turn the computer on!"

"Hey!" your mom argues but her tone is amused "I'm not that old!"

"I know, I know," you keep laughing.

"I love you," she says seriously. And this time, you are willing to believe her.

"Love you too, mom," you answer truthfully and hang up the phone.

You look at Seonghwa who was quietly cutting vegetables. His mere presence in the room was giving you strength and moral support.

"I did it," you announce the obvious. "I talked to my mom."

"You did so well. I'm really proud of you, angel," he wraps you into the world's most comforting hug.

"Things won't get magically fixed but…it's a start."

"You did the right thing."

"I couldn't have done it without you, Hwa," you admit truthfully. "You light up my whole dark existence, my precious star."

"Oh, baby," Seonghwa holds your hands. "Stars can't shine without darkness."

Bonus:

You are so happy to have cooked spaghetti carbonara for your boyfriend, your darling, your starshine, your marvellous Hwa. You really hope he likes it because you've worked so hard on it and it's his birthday so you wanted to do something special for him. He has given you so much care and affection so this is the least you could do to express how grateful you are.

"Happy birthday, my love," you kiss him gently, presenting the meal in front of him. "I have other gifts, as well, but food first before it gets cold!"

"Aw, baby, you didn't have to do all that," Seonghwa smiles, touched by your efforts.

"Come on, try it!" you are practically bouncing with excitement to see his reaction.

"It's really delicious, my angel! You did a wonderful job!" he praises you, sincerity clear in his voice.

You can't take it and you burst into tears.

"Why are you crying? Did I say something wrong?" Seonghwa puts the fork down, immediately worried about your well-being.

"No, it's just…the first time anyone's praised my cooking. It feels incredibly special coming from you, considering you are so brilliant in the kitchen."

"The kitchen is not the only place where I'm incredible," he winks, looking at the bedroom.

"Eat, eat! We'll unwrap the gifts later in that other place," you wipe your tears and encourage him to enjoy his meal.

"Oh, sunshine, you are the only gift I could ask for," Seonghwa promises and goes back to the carbonara. And perhaps, this is what having a home feels like.

The End

#ateez #seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #mommy seonghwa #mommy!seonghwa #ateez smut #ateez angst #seonghwa fluff #ateez fluff #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #seonghwa imagines #writing

370 notes · View notes

korebringerofded · 8 months

Text

Storms and Coffee, Choso Kama X Reader

Description- Imagine being his reason for smiling, being the one to bring him comfort, touching him like no one had touched him before. Imagine being the only one who can clear his cloudy mind with your sunshine smile. Words- 2k Warnings- Unedited as fuck yall, I hate my writing so much rn, breaks suck, smut at the end, self indulgent angst, sad Choso is sad, praise kink, unprotected sex, pining, choso being adorably in love with you, oral (F! receiving)

A/N-I ask that you read my rules before going any further on my page. Reblogs, likes, and comments are always appreciated and keep me going All requests are open and you can find my entire masterlist here.

The first time that the half-curse, Choso Kama laid his eyes on you he was sure that his heart was going to stop. At the time, he had very little care for anything beyond his mission with Geto. His two younger brothers were dead and he was honestly just tired, the most tired he had ever been.

Choso had no idea where he was or how he ended up at this place. He had just been wandering the streets for a few hours and was currently taking shelter from the pouring rain. When he looked up into the dark storming sky and he saw the building was an apartment complex with a flickering sign.

Useless, useless, useless. He thought to himself, his eyes slipping shut as he let out an audible groan.

Choso just felt so lost. His vision was blurred from the rain that fell around him, it soaked his robe and his messy black hair but he didn’t really mind any of that.

It was only when a soft and shy voice broke through the thundering storm, both in the gray clouds, and in Choso’s mind that he looked up to see…you.

He had never seen someone…as beautiful as you before.

“Are you okay?” You asked, head tilted to the side.

His sharp and serious purple eyes met with your big and glossy ones. You had a raincoat on and a pink umbrella in your hand. You searched the tall strangers' faces with a look of concern.

Choso was a tall and rather intimidating man, even as he leaned against the brick wall of the building. He had a sharp look in his dark purple eyes that started to fade as he looked over your features. He seemed almost impressed that you were talking to him at all.

So small…so cute. He thought to himself.

Most people would be terrified of such a man, but you seemed rather unphased by his towering size and intimidating appearance, so you leaned forward to hold your umbrella over both Choso and yourself.

“I…” Choso started, realizing she was waiting on him to answer. His eyes wide as he looked down at the small human before him and he was rather caught off guard by her.

Because why would someone like you even talk to a disgraceful half-cure like him.

“You must be freezing, would you like to come in for some coffee?” You asked, all the while you held your umbrella over Choso and yourself to try and protect you both from the rain.

Choso stared down at her, he must have looked like a huge mess, his eyeshadow was rubbed across his cheek and his two buns were soaked and dripping down his face. After a moment, he nodded sheepishly.

“Yes…thank you.”

That one interaction was enough, enough for you to steal Choso’s entire half-cursed heart. Your sweetness and your warmth were intoxicating to him and he found himself returning to your apartment day after day, week after week.

Eventually, Choso was a part of your everyday life, he knocked on your door every morning with a blank expression and an absolutely love-sick heart. You wouldn’t have known he felt anything for you at all if not for the way he kept coming back. It was actually adorable, the way he would shyly rub the back of his neck as he stood in your doorway.

You ask him to go to the store with you? He immediately nods and carries the bags for you without a complaint. Want to spend the day baking? He is the perfect taste tester and would help you wash every dish afterwards. Wanna watch a bad movie? He will watch it all without a single complaint. (He is just looking at you the entire time)

The first time Choso knew he would be in trouble was the first time you touched him, the way your soft hands brushed against his arm. It made every single hair on the back of his neck stand on edge and his cheeks turn a soft pink. He found so much comfort in your touch, it was like a warm summer day he could just bask in forever.

When you walked together, he would stare at your small fingers intertwined with his because if he looked at your face he was sure that his heart would just explode. It all just made him fall that much harder for you.

He would wait an excruciatingly long time before he made a move or admitted his feelings for you but…he was head over heels for you from that very first day, your kindness and the softness of your hand when he held it, he honestly didn’t believe he deserved it. All Choso wanted was to keep you just how you were, perfect and innocent. He wouldn’t ever forgive himself for making you upset or uncomfortable.

He wanted to tell you so badly, how you were on his mind every moment of every day, how your sweet scent was intoxicating, how he wanted to hear you scream his name but…he didn’t want to be like that. You deserved respect and he was trying damn hard to give it to you but each day was more and more of a challenge for him to control himself. It was easy before, before, he saw you as adorable and sweet, his little angel. But now…

He couldn’t stop staring at your thighs and ass, every time you turned away from him it was like his eyes were magnets and your ass and thighs were the north pole(idk guys) Choso was almost slack-jawed every time he saw you, his head tilted to the side as he looked at you with a soft blush spreading over his face…he wanted to kiss every inch of your skin.

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up.

When he would finally get up the courage to tell you how he feels (after lots of hyping up from his newly discovered brother Yujii) he would become obsessed with making it all absolutely perfect. He wore a black t-shirt and some jeans, he also wore his hair down. He was pacing outside of your apartment door, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“This is so stupid…this is a terrible idea” Choso thought to himself, running a hand through his long black hair as he debated leaving before he truly embarrassed himself.

Before he got the chance, the door opened and it was as if all of his worries just disappeared when he saw your beautiful face.

Choso took a step forward with a furious blush on his face and his hand was trembling just a little. He was noticeably nervous.This was your first time seeing him look so…casual, with his hair down and it made your heart echo like a drum, you knew he was handsome before but….damn.

You didn’t get a chance to react or say anything when Choso walked in, closing the door behind him as he backed you up against the wall, his huge arms pinning you as he leaned down to press his face into the crook of your neck.

“Don’t…say anything. I need to do something.” His voice sounded soft and trembling, his face was hot and his breath ran down the side of your neck.

You simply nodded, your face heating up as your heart echoed rapidly in your chest.

Choso was not particularly good with words, he fumbled and blushed and got so nervous he would completely freeze up but…he was definitely a man of action.

He pulled his face up from your neck and his hands moved from the wall behind you to cupping your precious face like you were his greatest treasure. His touch was gentle and soothing, you couldn’t help but lean into it. Choso would brush his thumb along your soft cheeks with a soft chuckle.

“You…are all that I think about.” He mumbled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before he went back to caressing your face. “Can I kiss you? Please?” He asked, sounding significantly more desperate than he meant to before he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.

His gentleness and sweetness were making you lightheaded. You were too breathless to speak, your chest was rising and falling rapidly and you slowly nodded, your face hot to the touch from how flustered you were.

“Yes..kiss me.”

His lips collided with yours before the words properly left your mouth, he was desperate and sweet, his mouth molding to yours as you melted into each other’s arms. His lips were soft and sweet, smooth against your own as his tongue gently nudged against your lip until he was exploring your entire mouth, his hands moving from your face to your hips as he pressed you further against the wall. You let out a soft moan as you kissed, all of your senses on fire as Choso’s hands ran up and down your hips like he was memorizing your shape, your softness.

After a moment, Choso pulled back, his forehead pressed against yours and he had a bright blush spread over his pale face. You were both panting, a string saliva between your lips as Choso held you against the wall with a sheepish grin on his face. His purple eyes scanned over you with a softness you had never seen before.

“You are in such trouble now…” He said lovingly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear with a grin.

“Why is that?” You asked with a soft giggle, but you had a feeling you already knew.

‘Because now you’re mine.” He mumbled, moving to press soft and delicate kisses down your neck. “And I need you.” He said with a shaky sigh as he pulled his dark eyes to meet with yours.

“Cho-.” You started to say, your voice trembling but he cut you off with his finger pressed to your lips.

“Do I need to beg?” He whispered, his eyes big and filled with desperation. “Because I will, I will beg for you.”

After that, Choso made it his mission to fuck you each and every chance he got and in everyway he could. He just wanted to please you so badly it almost hurt.

“F-fuck, Choso…d-don’t stop. S’good.” You slurred, a soft pant leaving your lips as Choso’s adjusts his grip on your hips so he can go back to fucking into your soaked pussy from behind, his eyes locked on the jiggle of your ass and it made his mouth water with want and desire.

“You look so good on my cock, princess, fuck, you squeeze me so good.” Choso moaned, his face hot as his fingers dug into your hips and he continued to thrust deep in you, the fat tip of his dick hitting against your gummy walls that sucked around him desperately.

“Please…yes…yes, right there.” You whimpered, your back arching as Choso fucked you into the freshly made bed, his head falling back as you tightened around him, he knew you were getting close and he wasn’t sure how much longer he would last either.

Your moans and desperate cries only pushed him further along, his hands twitching around your hips before he pulled out which made your hot dripping pussy clench and throb with want.

Before you could complain, your boyfriend had you pinned down on your back, your knees spread so he could run his lips down your knee and across your ankle before he started to kiss back up your leg, his large hands wrapped around your thighs as he pressed soft and wet kisses to your plush thighs.

“Mmm…you look so pretty like this..my pretty little princess.” Choso cooed, nuzzling his face into your thigh before he poked his tongue out of his glossy lips and looked up at you with half-lidded and dark eyes

Choso just loved how you tasted, he probably enjoyed it about as much as you did, he savored the taste and the smell and the feel of your flesh in his mouth, on his tongue. He nudged his nose against your clit as his tongue traced your already slick-soaked folds with a grin.

You were already trembling, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. He had been toying with you like this for hours and you had cum more times than you could remember, you were a panting and whimpering mess.

Choso seemed like he hadn’t even broken a sweat as he lapped up your sweet nectar like it was all he survived on, and he probably could have. Your thighs were trembling around his face as his tongue explored each and every part of you, his thumb lazily brushing your clit back and forth as his hand rested on your belly.

“S-so close.” You moaned desperately, white hot stars blocking your vision as your fingers dug into his dark hair.

Your back arched and your whole body trembled as you let out a cry, your thighs soaked in your own slick as Choso licked your thighs and pussy completely clean with an almost adorable desperation.

After he was done, he leaned his head against your knee and looked up at you with a somewhat bashful grin.

“Did I…do good?” He asked with a soft blush.

Please do not copy, use my work, or put it through AI without my permission or I'll be really sad about it!

243 notes · View notes

kingofbodyrolls · 3 months

Text

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | one

🐴Chapter summary: You arrive back at the ranch, a place you used to call home as a child. But it doesn’t hold the same meaning anymore. With the passing of your mother, you stand to inherit part of that very ranch– and you don’t want it. Only problem, your sister doesn’t want to give you her signature for you to sell your share. 🐴Chapter title: Inheritance 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: mention of past character death of parents, exhibitionism, explicit smut in the form of protected sex, quick and dirty sex, doing it against a barn, creampie, nipple play, clit play. Doing it in public / outside. Mention of past infidelity (of parents). Spoiler ahead!!! Jungkook and Jimin are (half) brothers and reader sleeping with JK is necessary to happen for the sake of the plot 🥲 It sucked to write that part, and if you feel like the smut if ‘eh’ it’s because it was written that way because reader isn’t meant to be with JK! So, please, don’t let that discourage you from reading it, the rest of the story is really good and MC realizes she’s made a mistake… anyway the smut with Jimin when it eventually happen, is just 🥵🥵🥵 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 8.2k 🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog @kiki-zb @babejinnie @ownthesunshine @allie-is-a-panda @glllhjh @bergandysam @13-manggaetteok

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “Theme from McLeod’s Daughters” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: this story has been in my head forever, and I’ve spent months outlining it and planning it– so I’m so stoked to finally post it! 🥳 I love both McLeod’s Daughters and BTS, so why not combine it?? I am not sure anybody will read this story, but if you do, thank you! It truly means the world to me.

I also want to give a very big thank you and shout out to my dear friend, Lua, for reading it while I worked on it, hyping me up and giving me such fucking wonderful feedback 😭✨ Thank you so much @letjungcoook7 💖🥹

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

| s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next →

“I said, I wanna touch the earth I wanna break it in my hands I wanna grow something wild and unruly I wanna sleep on the hard ground In the comfort of your arms On a pillow of bluebonnets In a blanket made of stars Oh, it sounds good to me I said, cowboy take me away Fly this girl as high as you can into the wild blue Set me free, oh, I pray” - “Cowboy Take Me Away” by The Chicks

The tires of your car dig into the unforgiving dirt road with a tenacious grip as you navigate the rugged terrain. A symphony of sand and dust dances before the windshield, yet your focus remains unyielding. The landscape is open and inviting, yet there’s tall mountains in the distance framing the idyllic nature.

The pulsating beat of the music reverberates through the vehicle, echoing the determination coursing through your veins. Your fingers tighten around the wheel, your resolve unshakable.

Amidst the chaotic whirlwind outside, you're on a singular quest: to get your sister’s signature to sell your share of the ranch.

You yearn to sever all ties with the place.

It's not a matter of hatred, per se, but rather an aversion steeped in memories you'd rather forget.

The grounds echo with a tapestry of recollections, most of which cling like shadows to the recesses of your mind—a gallery of moments you're desperate to erase from the canvas of your past.

The passing of your mother, a woman absent from your life for over two decades, casts a melancholic hue over this reunion, that leaves much to be desired.

Separated by the passage of years, your sister remains a distant specter on the horizon of your past. A chapter of familial connection was abruptly closed when your father took you away from the ranch during your formative years, the sprawling fields replaced by the relentless rhythm of the city.

The city, with its towering structures and ceaseless energy, has woven itself into the fabric of your existence. Amidst the hustle, the stress, the eclectic cafes, and the teeming crowds, you've found a peculiar treasure trove of experiences that pulse through your veins like a vibrant heartbeat. The city's flaws, laid bare like urban scars, only deepen your affection for its complex tapestry, making each chaotic street corner and neon-lit club a cherished fragment in the mosaic of your life.

As an undesired song infiltrates your playlist, you find yourself questioning its very existence on your curated soundtrack.

Swiftly, you dismiss its intrusion, replacing its notes with the growling intensity of a much angrier anthem.

The need for focus on this mission is paramount, an unyielding commitment that not even the persuasive tones of Jessi, with all her influence, can sway or alter.

A familiar sign with your family’s last name emerges on the horizon, unleashing a flood of memories from an idyllic childhood—filled with the echoes of hide-and-seek, the warmth of love, and the harmonious symphony of laughter—that paints both your irises and your heart in hues of nostalgia.

Yet, as your fingers instinctively clench around the steering wheel, you staunchly refuse to be swayed by the emotional undertow. Determination courses through your veins, a steadfast resolve not to let sentiment cloud the clarity of your purpose.

With a resolute spirit, you navigate the winding road that leads to the ranch.

As the familiar landscape unfurls before you, a creeping uneasiness takes root within the recesses of your being. Despite the passage of two decades, the ranch appears frozen in time, an unchanged picture that sends shivers down your spine. The unsettling familiarity of the place only amplifies the weight of the past, casting a shadow over your determined journey back to a place that seems to have resisted the relentless march of time.

Bringing the car to a halt before the imposing main house, you silence the engine with a decisive twist of the key. A heavy sigh escapes your lips, mingling with the weight of anticipation that hangs in the air. Inhaling deeply, you draw in the essence of the moment, your fingers betraying a nervous rhythm as they tap anxiously against the steering wheel.

The stillness belies the turmoil surging within, as you ready yourself to encounter the ghost of your past.

A mere thirty minutes— an hour at most, and you'll resume your journey on the open road, bound for the comfort of home in the city.

Determination courses through your veins, intertwining with the staccato rhythm of your anxious heartbeat, the pulsations reverberating so forcefully that you can sense them echoing all the way to the depths of your ears.

The moment your car door swings open, a subtle shift in the wind whispers a tale of transformation. The landscape may echo familiarity, but an intangible alteration lingers in the air, an elusive metamorphosis that leaves you questioning the very essence of this place. Is it a mere illusion, or has something truly shifted, perhaps within the confines of your own soul?

Navigating the uneven terrain in heels proves to be a challenge, but undeterred, you conquer the dirt road and arrive at the tall front door. It stands before you, a sentinel of memories, somehow appearing taller than in recollection. The weathered, dark-red wooden door remains stoically unchanged, a silent witness to the passage of time.

Two deliberate knocks break the stillness, and you retreat a step, a reverberation of anticipation coursing through the air as you stand on the threshold of both the past and the unknown.

The door frame, once pristine in its white coat, now bears the scars of time, its paint chipped and revealing glimpses of the weathered wood beneath.

Stationed in front of the door, you endure a suspenseful five minutes, an eternity compressed into every passing second, yet the silence remains unbroken. Undeterred by the absence of response, a resolute determination guides your actions as you seize the handle. With a deliberate press, the handle yields, surrendering to your resolve and releasing a cacophony of creaks—a symphony of protesting hinges announcing your entrance into the realm of memories.

“Hello?”

Your voice, tinged with uncertainty, dances into the air as you cautiously poke your head through the threshold, a hesitant entry into the familiar realms of the house.

A gentle warmth envelops you, tenderly kissing your skin and infusing an instant sense of calm. The scent, aged and rich, swirls around you like a tangible embrace of wood and cherished memories from your childhood. The hallway stretches out before you, adorned with snapshots frozen in time—images of you and Jessi playing in the fields, your first pony, and a cherished trio with your mom. Each picture pulses with the erratic beat of your heart, echoing the palpable journey down the corridor of reminiscence. Amidst this gallery of the past, you navigate the tapestry of nostalgia, your destination set on what memory deems to be the kitchen.

The staccato clank of your heels resonates boldly against the unpolished hardwood floor, a deliberate announcement of your presence that reverberates through the silent expanse as you press deeper into the heart of the kitchen. Despite the resounding echo, a mysterious absence lingers, the emptiness amplifying the solitude within the room, a poignant contrast to the persistent cadence of your steps.

Surveying the scene, your eyes capture the delicate dance of white curtains adorned with lace, their elegance offering a stark contrast to the weathered state of the kitchen. Time has etched its story on the cabinets, pleading for a rejuvenating touch—perhaps a cleansing and a new coat of color to breathe life into the tired, faded cream. A wistful smile graces your lips, an emotive response to the tactile connection forged as your fingers trace the countertop. The surface, a touch dusty yet evocative, sparks an odd familiarity, transporting you to a realm of forgotten times and the comforting essence of what was once home.

A sudden voice startles you from your reverie, its unexpected presence slicing through the air like a well-timed interruption in the symphony of memories.

“Can I help you?”

A jolt courses through your body, a startled response to the abrupt intrusion of the voice, yet you pivot on your heels, meeting the owner of the enigmatic, yet somehow airy, tones.

In the face of the unexpected presence, you lock eyes with the source, a meeting that feels like a convergence of past and present, each heartbeat resonating with the electric charge surging through your body.

A nervous chuckle escapes you, the residue of your earlier determination dissipating in the charged air as you assess the man standing before you.

His eyes, a deep and authoritative brown, lock onto yours, unraveling a silent narrative in their depths. Blonde and untamed, his long hair falls with a disheveled grace, framing a face that exudes both strength and mystery. His slender physique conceals well-defined, lean muscles beneath the snug embrace of a gray shirt, each contour subtly hinting at the strength within. Clad in blue denim jeans with artful rips at the bottom, and adorned with chunky western boots boasting intricate ornaments, he carries an aura of rugged elegance.

“Can I help you?” he repeats, the query hanging in the air like an unspoken challenge.

Crossing his arms over a torso that amplifies the definition of his biceps, his deliberate posture commands attention, drawing your gaze to the undeniable display of strength.

“I’m so sorry,” you quip nervously, a hint of self-awareness coloring your tone. Inwardly, you curse the fact that you were caught in the act of checking him out, and you’ve yet to acknowledge the man properly. “I’m looking for Jessi?”

A low, rumbling chuckle escapes the man, accompanied by a soft smile that carries a subtle mystique, rendering his eyes nearly elusive.

“Who are you?” he inquires, his arms still defiantly crossed, and a flicker of realization dawns upon you—this interaction holds a peculiar tension. The awareness sets in that, in essence, you are an intruder, a stranger trespassing into the intimate space of a home that isn’t yours anymore.

“I'm Jessi's sister,” you declare, a succinct introduction that hangs in the air. His response is a simple “Oh,” a word that resonates with a spectrum of unspoken sentiments.

As his arms fall to his sides, his posture eases into a more relaxed stance, and his gaze, now unhindered by the barricade of crossed arms, traverses the contours of your figure. Your choice of attire—heels and a summer dress that daringly grazes your thighs—doesn't escape his notice.

You sense his eyes lingering on your exposed legs for a beat longer than societal norms might deem appropriate.

You find yourself unapologetically appreciating his attractiveness, recognizing the allure that binds both of you in a silent dance of mutual fascination.

“You don't remember me?”

His question pierces through the air, catching you off guard, and instinctively, you lean back against the countertop. A subtle shake of your head accompanies the inquiry, and as you witness a shadow of sadness flicker across his eyes, an unexpected weight sinks into the chambers of your heart. The unspoken question lingers—should you know this man?

“It's me, Jimin,” he asserts with a voice steeped in pride and certainty, a declaration that sets your mind into a whirlwind of attempted recollection. His name resonates with a familiarity that dances on the periphery of your memory, like an elusive wisp slipping through the cracks of forgotten moments.

“Park?”

You question with a voice that wavers in uncertainty, the mere utterance of the name carrying the weight of a fragile hope. As the word escapes your lips, you cling to the fragile threads of memory, desperately seeking confirmation that you've pieced together the puzzle of identity correctly.

“Yeah! Don't you remember? We played together when we were kids,” he chuckles warmly, the nostalgia of shared memories evident in his eyes.

With a warm gesture, he invites you to take a seat, a silent acknowledgment of the intricacies of your shared history. As he crosses the room to the sink, a subtle limp marks his stride—a detail you keenly observe as you pull out a chair. Your curiosity about his altered gait tugs at your thoughts, begging for expression, yet you restrain the impulse, deeming it too forward. Silently, you observe him reaching for a glass from the overhead cabinet, pouring water with a practiced ease.

“Here you go,” he offers, placing the glass before you. As you take it, your fingers brush momentarily, and an unexpected electric jolt courses through your body. You respond with a sheepish smile, expressing gratitude for the simple gesture. “Jessi is out riding; she'll be back soon.”

You nod, the cool touch of the glass against your lips serving as a momentary distraction from the impending wait. As you take a measured sip of water, the realization sinks in — a quiet acknowledgment that the road back home may stretch longer than initially anticipated.

“I'm sorry about your mom,” he offers his condolences, and a palpable pain reflects in his eyes. The depth of his empathy hints at a connection with your mother that might surpass your own or perhaps, he carries the weight of loss in his own experiences. Regardless, you express gratitude, but as you do, a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders accompanies your words. “It's whatever,” you say, attempting to downplay the complexity of emotions that linger beneath the surface, yet the weight of grief echoes in the unspoken spaces between you.

He offers a minuscule smile, a mere flicker that fails to reach the depths of his eyes, and a subtle shift in the atmosphere becomes palpable. A quiet tension weaves through the kitchen, the air thickening with unspoken complexities. It's as if the very walls themselves have become sentient, closing in with a slow and deliberate intent, creating an immersive sense of confinement that mirrors the unexplored territories of emotions lingering between you and Jimin.

The rhythmic clank of boots announces her arrival before she materializes in the doorway — Jessi, a force of raw determination, a cascade of muttered curse words trailing in her wake.

With an aura of purpose, she strides into the kitchen, a whirlwind of energy that disrupts the tension-laden air.

“Aren't you supposed to be working?” she demands, a subtle undercurrent of anger weaving through her voice as her gaze fixes on Jimin.

You sense that you've slipped beneath her radar for now. Jimin responds with a casual chuckle, turning his head in your direction. In that moment, you feel the weight of her steel gaze bore into you.

You observe the subtle tensing of her body, her gaze meticulously scrutinizing every inch of you. Arms crossed defensively, she acknowledges your presence with a guarded stance.

“Long time no see. What do you want?” The words, delivered with an edge that slices through the air, reverberate with a mix of curiosity and suspicion, embodying the complex web of emotions that intertwine your shared history.

Your lips involuntarily tighten, the already tense atmosphere escalating to an almost suffocating degree as Jessi's presence intensifies. A rhythmic tapping of her foot reverberates through the room, an erratic metronome that hints at a cocktail of emotions—perhaps nervousness, perhaps anger, the fine line between the two eluding your understanding.

“The inheritance,” you utter, and a visible transformation sweeps over Jessi. Her countenance, already frosty, plunges into an even colder abyss. The pallor that washes over her skin accentuates the darkness of her brown, curly hair, transforming it into a cascade that seems to absorb the shadows of her perturbed soul.

A nervous gulp echoes in the charged silence, your attempt to fortify a wavering resolve. The mission is clear — secure her signature, liberate yourself, and sever the lingering ties. The weight of unspoken history and familial complexities hangs in the air, urging you to complete this fraught encounter, hoping that once the ink meets the paper, you’ll leave and never bother her again.

“I want to sell my share of the ranch. I just need your signature.”

The declaration hangs in the charged air, a revelation that sends a ripple through the room. Jimin tenses visibly, gaping in clear surprise at your bold proclamation. Your sister, on the other hand, is barely faring any better. The undercurrents of anger surge to the surface, a tempest of emotions that bobs precariously, threatening to breach the veneer of composure that barely holds.

She hisses, the sound cutting through the charged silence like a serpent's warning, and grinds her teeth together with a simmering intensity. “You're not getting that,” she declares with a venomous resolve, the words laced with an unmistakable determination that resonates with the unyielding clash of wills in the room.

The sternness and anger in her voice reverberate through the room, creating an invisible barrier. Undeterred, you summon a quiet resolve and press forward, attempting to cut through the emotional tempest that surrounds her. “I just need your signature, and then I can go,” your words, a delicate plea amidst the tumultuous clash of emotions, hang in the air, a fragile bridge between the chasm of familial discord and the resolution you seek.

She strides purposefully towards you, anger etching furrows into her brows. Coming to a halt just before your seated form, she looms over you with a fiery intensity in her eyes.

“No. Get the fuck out,” she commands, the force behind her words reverberating in the charged space between you. The air crackles with the energy of unresolved conflicts, and her words hang in the air like a proclamation, leaving no room for negotiation.

Jimin's expression no longer holds surprise, his features now marked by a disapproving shake of his head. As Jessi retreats from you, turning with a storm brewing in her wake, the kitchen becomes an echoing chamber of unresolved tensions. She storms out, leaving you and Jimin in the wake of her departure, the remnants of conflict lingering in the air like an unspoken presence that refuses to dissipate.

You clench your hands into tight fists, the physical manifestation of the internal turmoil that courses through you. The realization dawns, like a belated epiphany, that her vehement reaction was all but predictable. A heavy sigh escapes your lips, and you slump back into the chair, the weight of disappointment settling upon you like a shroud. This isn't unfolding as you had envisioned.

The wind whips through, mercilessly tossing your hair into a chaotic dance across your face. Grumbling, you navigate the exterior of the main house, entering a realm where nature and grandeur coalesce. The yard unfolds before you, a testament to meticulous care, stretching expansively with paddocks extending for miles. To the left, a substantial stable stands as a regal sentinel, while to the right, three cottages punctuate the landscape.

Your gaze sweeps across the panoramic expanse, capturing the undulating beauty of the paddocks that cascade over the hills while the sun slowly sets. Cows and horses graze lazily, mere dots in the vast canvas of the countryside. The scene unfolds before you like a living painting, each blade of grass, each creature contributing to the symphony of nature. Amidst this serene image, you find yourself standing at the crossroads of contemplation, pondering the labyrinth of decisions that now lay before you.

Jessi won’t give you her signature, and you need her damn ink on that paper to be able to sell your share of the ranch.

Maybe if you get on her good side, she’ll reconsider? It’s worth a try at least.

“Hi,” a lilting female voice disrupts the current of your thoughts, a melodic intrusion that yanks you back from the recesses of contemplation. Your pivot is swift, attention now redirected to the stranger who has materialized behind you.

Her hand extends gracefully towards you, a gesture that transcends the usual formalities. “I'm Soo-ah, one of the stable hands here,” she introduces herself with an easy confidence, her words resonating with a sense of belonging and familiarity within the expansive realm of the ranch.

“Ah, hi,” you muse with a soft smile, extending a handshake that bridges the gap between stranger and newfound acquaintance. Her stature is modest, a curvature of curves, with a disarming smile that reveals a charming imperfection in the form of endearing crooked teeth. Clad in short denim shorts adorned with delicate white lace on the trim and a pink tank top, she exudes an aura of comfort and warmth. Her eyes, a mesmerizing shade of blue, gleam with a radiance that speaks of love and hope, amplified by the contrast against her sun-kissed tan skin.

“Your trip didn't go according to plan?” she inquires, the gentle cadence of her question accompanied by the sweep of a hand, gracefully gathering her long blonde hair away from her face.

A chuckle escapes you, accompanied by a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders, as you confess, “Not really.”

“You know, this place means a lot to Jessi. It's her home. She wouldn't want you to sell your share for some random people to buy it or worse, use the land for housing or something.” Her eyes mirror the softness of her words, and a gentle smile graces her lips, a gesture that carries an unexpected soothing effect on your conflicted heart.

The weight of her words settles on your conscience, a realization you had secretly dreaded. You grasp the depth of your sister's emotional connection to this land, an affection you once shared but have since outgrown. The prospect of selling your share, allowing strangers to lay claim to the cherished homestead, unfolds before you, and you acknowledge why Jessi vehemently opposes it. Yet, your heart remains indifferent to the sentimental ties that bind others to this place. It ceased being home long ago, and the notion of it ever regaining that status in your life appears as elusive as a distant memory fading into the horizon.

“Say what. It's late, and dinner's almost ready. Why don't you come eat with us and meet the rest of the gang? After that, I'll show you one of the guest rooms!” Her invitation resonates with a contagious enthusiasm, her voice exuding a warmth that almost verges on giddy. The surge of energy she emanates feels almost overwhelming, a stark contrast to the subdued atmosphere that has accompanied your arrival.

“I haven't packed anything. I didn't plan on staying…” you mumble, your words trailing off into the evening breeze. Despite your half-hearted protest, she seizes your hand and playfully pulls you towards the main house. Reluctance threads through your steps, a tangible resistance to the unexpected detour that fate seems to be orchestrating.

“There's a guest room in the house, and you can borrow some clothes from Jessi or me. Those heels and that dress aren't exactly farm-friendly attire.” She laughs, a melody of warmth that resonates through the short walk to the house. Soo-ah guides you to the guest room where you'll be spending the night, and then you both make your way to the kitchen.

There, you encounter another enchanting presence—a statuesque woman, tall and slender, her ebony hair culminating at her neck. Her eyes, a captivating shade of incredibly dark brown, bordering on obsidian, stand out against her lovely fair white skin. Clad in a simple yet elegant ensemble of a dark t-shirt paired with dark blue denim jeans, she moves gracefully around the kitchen, orchestrating what appears to be a culinary feast in the making.

“I'm Ha-rin.” A casual wave accompanies her introduction, a seamless dance of gestures as she deftly grabs a handful of vegetables with the other hand.

“This is Jessi's sister,” Soo-ah introduces you with a warm smile, and Ha-rin nods in a gesture that suggests a preexisting understanding. “How can we help?” she inquires, her words carrying a blend of genuine curiosity and an unspoken readiness to extend hospitality.

“You can set the table. I'm almost done with the food,” she declares, seamlessly transitioning to the task of cutting carrots with a professional speed that leaves you duly impressed.

Soo-ah guides you to the location of plates and glasses, and in a synchronized dance, you both embark on setting the table in the dining room. The collaborative effort carries an unexpected warmth, a departure from the solitary routine you've grown accustomed to. The act of sharing this communal task conjures a sense of nostalgia; it's been a long time since you've partaken in such simple yet meaningful rituals. Your dining experiences have often been solitary, occasionally shared with a partner, although those instances are rare occurrences in the tapestry of your solitary meals.

In no time, Ha-rin completes the culinary masterpiece, presenting a spread of oven-cooked chicken, a colorful assortment of vegetables, and tantalizing kimchi. The table becomes a canvas adorned with the promise of a delectable feast. As you all take your seats, another presence joins the gathering—Ara, a tall woman with big brown eyes and chocolate-brown hair cascading gracefully over her shoulders. Her curves and paler skin distinguish her from Ha-rin, yet she radiates the same warmth that characterizes the group.

The door swings open, and into the room strides your sister, a pronounced frown etching lines of disapproval on her face the moment her sharp eyes lock onto your figure seated at her dining table.

“Didn't I tell you to leave?” Her voice cuts through the air, laden with an undeniable tension that hangs like a storm cloud, casting a shadow over the gathering.

With an exasperated roll of your eyes, you confront the directness that has always characterized Jessi, even if it doesn't always come across as nice. “It's getting dark, and Soo-ah graciously provided me with a room for the night. I'm not leaving until I get your signature,” you assert, the declaration hanging in the air like an unyielding challenge.

Jessi's voice carries a distinct air of deflation, and it becomes evident that obtaining her signature won't be a victory achieved tonight, if at all. Resigned, she takes her place at the head of the table, a silent acknowledgment of the impasse.

A stretch of silence envelops the dining room as everyone engages in the act of eating, a temporary truce. However, the calm is shattered as Jessi, unable to contain her emotions any longer, erupts like a dormant volcano. “Why can't you just keep your share of the ranch, huh?” Her words punctuate the air, each question a stab to the atmosphere, accentuated by the forceful plunge of her fork into the unfortunate chicken.

“Honestly?” You draw in a deep breath, preparing for the verbal fallout, fully aware that you've stepped into a minefield. “I just need the money.” The words hang in the air, a stark admission that lays bare your motivations. Jessi's frown deepens, her disapproving expression not eliciting the slightest surprise from you.

“Why can't you just buy my share?” The words escape you in a frustrated huff, irritation building with each passing moment. Jessi's ability to get on your nerves becomes increasingly evident, a skill she's always excelled at.

“I don't have the money to buy you out,” she states bluntly, her voice carrying a mix of blankness and anger, turning the tension at the table sour. Your plate, once adorned with the delicious offerings crafted by Ha-rin, now sits neglected, the food losing its appeal in the wake of the strained conversation. What a shame, you think, as the beautifully prepared meal becomes a casualty of the familial clash, and your appetite dissipates like the vanishing aroma of an abandoned feast.

“Why are you so mad at me?” you sputter out in frustration, resisting the almost overwhelming urge to pull at your hair in exasperation. The room echoes with a tense silence, interrupted only by the subtle sound of your sister's scuff, a precursor to the deep inhale that precedes the unleashing of her fury upon you.

“I haven't seen you in twenty years. You stomp in here, wanting to take my home away from me. And you didn't even attend Mom's funeral. Some balls you have.” Her voice is stern, each word laced with venom, and her glare cuts through you like a knife. To punctuate her disapproval, she slams her hands down hard on the table. “I'm going to bed. Goodnight.”

Then she stomps off. At least she has some manners, you think, acknowledging the begrudging ‘goodnight’ she offered. Nevertheless, you sigh, the rest of the girls casting pitiful glances in your direction.

You lean back in the chair, contemplating the daunting challenge of ever getting on your sister's good side. The prospect seems as elusive as catching a shooting star, an almost impossible mission. Just as you sink into the depths of your thoughts, Ara shatters your contemplation with a beaming smile. “We're having a party tomorrow. Won't you stay for that?”

You take a few seconds to mull over her offer: a party in the countryside does sound intriguing, but the prospect of extended time with a sister who harbors animosity towards you gives you pause. Soo-ah, sensing your hesitation, steps in with a persuasive grin, “There'll be hot men!”

Then, in an instant, thoughts of Jimin flood your mind, and the prospect of his presence at the party becomes a tantalizing factor. A glimmer of optimism flickers; perhaps attending won't be as unbearable as you initially thought. Contemplating the possibility of a good time, you decide, “Who can say no to that?”

A forced laugh escapes your lips, but within it, there's a hint of genuine enjoyment. Sometimes, you remind yourself, you have to fake it until you make it.

The barn pulsates with the rhythm of the music, a lively mix of country tunes, not exactly your preferred genre, yet the melodies weave seamlessly into the rustic ambiance. Couples and friends sway to the slow beats on the dance floor, creating an intimate atmosphere that, despite your initial reservations, feels oddly fitting. Most attendees linger along the walls engaged in conversation, and as your eyes scan the scene, you notice a handful of men. The girls weren't exaggerating – the company includes some undeniably attractive men.

The majority of women sport casual dresses, much like the one you've borrowed from Ha-rin. Clad in a long black lace dress that subtly accentuates your curves, you navigate the sea of familiar and unfamiliar faces. In stark contrast, Jessi's attire veers towards practicality – shirt, jeans and boots, a reflection of her enduring tomboyish nature. While you entertain a fleeting thought about the silliness of her choice for a party, a deeper understanding dawns. She’s always been more practical, and her choice of clothes tonight might align with that too.

Surveying the lively scene again, your eyes lock onto your sister, deeply engrossed in a conversation with Jimin, an interaction that sparks both curiosity and a twinge of apprehension within you.

As Ha-rin diligently tends to the culinary offerings, ensuring a variety of light snacks for everyone, Soo-ah and Ara steal the spotlight on the improvised dance floor. Their laughter echoes through the barn, a harmonious blend of joy and camaraderie, and you can't help but be drawn into the dynamic and diverse interactions unfolding around you.

Turning on your heels, a craving for the crisp embrace of fresh air seizes you. Opting for the subtlety of a quiet exit, you make your way toward the back door of the barn. The metallic touch of the door handle graces your palm with a forgiving chill, a stark departure from the warmth and vibrancy pulsating within. Pushing the door ajar, the night air rushes to greet your face, prompting a sigh of contemplation.

However, as you step outside, your serenity shatters with a startle – a towering, muscular figure leans against the barn, arms crossed, waiting in the shadows of the night.

A startled yelp escapes your lips, accompanied by an inadvertent inhalation of lingering smoke in the air. The features of the stranger remain elusive, shrouded in the haze, as they release a deep and resonant chuckle in response to your momentary disarray.

“Scaredy-cat?” he teases, the resonance of his laughter causing an animated jiggle through his entire upper body. Your gaze inadvertently drifts to his well-defined pectorals, emphasized by the snug fit of his ripped tank top. The exact hue of the fabric eludes you in the dim light, a mysterious darkness with a hint of, perhaps, deep blue.

You approach him, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance, though inwardly acknowledging the undeniable truth – you are indeed a scaredy-cat. Closing the distance, your eyes trace a path from his broad shoulders down his right arm, a canvas adorned with a full sleeve of tattoos. Among the intricate designs, some manifest in striking black and white, while others burst forth with vivid splashes of color, each telling a silent tale waiting to be unraveled.

Approaching him, you realize you've left his question hanging in the air. Coming to a halt in front of this enigmatic figure, you find yourself captivated by his deep, dark brown eyes. In the obscurity of the night, tiny glints of light echo the stars above, gleaming in his gaze. His pitch black long hair, with small curls at the end, frame his handsome face. Contrary to the rugged bulk of his body, his facial features exude a surprising softness. Thick, black eyebrows frame his expressive eyes, while a slim, pointed nose adds to the symphony of features. A sharp, defined jawline contrasts with the plushness of his rosy lips, gently circling a half-smoked cigarette.

“Jessi’s sister, huh?” He inhales deeply from his cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke that dances in the air beside you.

“Y-Yes,” you stammer nervously, a feeble symphony to the deep timbre of his laughter. Nonetheless, you summon the courage to introduce yourself, your name a tentative melody lingering in the night air.

“I'm Jungkook.” He announces, the remnants of the cigarette meeting its demise beneath the sole of his boot, extinguishing any lingering embers. A subtle caution against the spark that could set the night ablaze.

“You look hot. Want to make out?” His gaze boldly traces over you, and a sudden self-consciousness grips you in the delicate embrace of your lace dress. Your cheeks ignite in a bright red flush, caught off guard by the unexpected boldness of his proposition.

Your flabbergasted expression seems to amuse him, and his laughter echoes, revealing an endearing smile that prompts a soft, airy chuckle to escape your lips in response.

“I'm serious, you know,” he says, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively. Another blush creeps up on you at his bluntness. Initially thinking he was joking, you now realize he's actually serious. As you assess him, you can't deny his incredible attractiveness, coupled with a nice smile and soft eyes. Perhaps he can't be all bad, right?

You saunter closer, conducting a swift yet thorough assessment of him. With a teasing lick of your lips, you signal that you're up for the game. “Sure.”

In a bold surge, he captures your lips, biting down on your lower lip as if seeking entrance. Yielding to the magnetic pull, your tongues engage in a fiery dance. His hands firmly grip your shoulders, giving a reassuring squeeze before deftly maneuvering you against the wall.

In a ravenous and swift embrace, his lips claim yours, leaving you breathless when he breaks away, his gaze smoldering with a lustful intensity that ignites a fiery sensation beneath your skin. Though not one to engage in impulsive encounters, the intoxicating allure of the moment fans the flames of excitement within you. Reminding yourself of the imminent departure tomorrow, you boldly lean in, craving another taste, and surrender to the intoxicating dance of desire.

As the kiss deepens, his demeanor doesn't exude sweetness or tenderness, and strangely, you find solace in that. After all, tomorrow marks your return home. The intensity of his kiss, possessive and profound, spirals you into a mindless whirlwind, your thoughts dissipating into nothingness, overwhelmed by the feeling of his rugged frame pressed firmly against yours.

His gravelly voice breaks the kiss momentarily as he breathlessly declares, “Your lips are so damn soft.”

Locking eyes with you, he plunges back into the intoxicating exchange, this time with an urgent and fervent intensity that mirrors his escalating desire, leaving little room for restraint.

Your fingers dig into the firm contours of his hips, tracing an electrifying path along the sculpted landscape of his toned body. The rhythmic play of his muscles beneath your touch is a tactile symphony, every ridge and sinew a testament to his strength, creating an intricate dance beneath the fabric of his shirt.

His lips embark on a tantalizing journey, lingering on your cheek with teasing kisses before reaching your ear. A low, guttural growl escapes his lips as he presses his pelvis against you, sending a bolt of electricity through your body. The warmth of his breath against your ear ignites a wildfire of sensations, and the undeniable presence of his arousal is impossible to ignore. Control slips away like sand through your fingers, and you find yourself succumbing to the irresistible pull of desire.

You bite down on your lips, the struggle to suppress a moan palpable. Despite the lively party unfolding just a breath away, Jungkook possesses an uncanny ability to whisk you into a world of his own creation, making the chaotic celebration fade into insignificance.

His hands explore the contours of your breasts, coaxing a soft moan from your lips. The absence of padding in your bra leaves your nipples immediately responsive to his teasing fingers. Sensations surge through you, and as your panties cling uncomfortably, an urgent desire to shed them intensifies.

His breath hot against your ear, he whispers, “I want to fuck you so bad, can I?”

The firm squeeze on your breasts sends a wave of desire through you. Fuck. The craving intensifies, and the anticipation of being with him grows insatiable. It's been an eternity since you felt this desire, and you're already on the edge, yearning for his touch.

Your response escapes in a breathy whisper, “Hell yes.”

Your fingers find purchase on the contours of his chest, seeking stability amid the whirlwind of desire that envelops you both.

The symphony of desire crescendos as you catch the melodic jingle of his belt being undone, the tantalizing slide of metal against leather, and the whisper of a zipper surrendering its secrets. Soon, his jeans cascade down, pooling around his knees.

Your curiosity takes over, compelling you to cast an audacious gaze downward, and even through the fabric of his underwear, the impressive outline of his arousal is undeniable. The undeniable bulge hints at a restrained intensity, and summoning your courage, you boldly cup him, your touch sending a low, guttural groan reverberating through the charged air.

“Are you good to go without any prep?” His question, a tantalizing whisper in your ear, sends shivers down your spine, and the resonant, lust-laden timbre of his voice resonates deep within you.

Nodding in affirmation, you can't help but bite your lip, feeling the promise of an exhilarating encounter ahead. “Yes,” you murmur, a breathy admission to the impending intensity.

As he lowers his underwear, his dick is unleashed, an impressive display of length and girth, veins tracing its sculpted form. The engorged head, flushed and intense, undergoes a few suggestive strokes from his skilled hands, droplets of precum glistening as they descend to the ground below.

His touch is commanding, fingers tracing a path down the contours of your dress, gathering the fabric in his strong grip. Swiftly, his hands venture beneath, reaching the apex of your panties. In one bold motion, he removes them, allowing them to cascade to the ground as you gracefully step out, shedding inhibitions along with the delicate undergarment.

Unexpectedly, he seizes your hips, effortlessly lifting you into the air. As you leap, your legs instinctively wrap around his tiny waist, aligning your bare core with his throbbing dick, a subtle gasp escaping your lips as your wetness coats his cock.

A soft moan escapes your lips at the tantalizing contact, and Jungkook, seizing the opportunity, grips your supple curves, pressing you firmly against the wall for stability. Skillfully, he produces a condom out of thin air, wraps his cock with it and positions his dick at the entrance of your eager pussy. Your hands instinctively clutch his neck, a mixture of anticipation and desire written across your face as you brace yourself for the impending ecstasy. With a devious smile playing on his lips, he tantalizingly teases the velvety folds of your cunt with the head of his cock. But the pretense of gentleness is short-lived, as he discards any lingering pleasantries and thrusts his dick into your warm and eager core in one seamless motion.

A gasp escapes your lips as an exquisite stretch engulfs you, momentarily testing your limits. Yet, the generous coating of your arousal ensures that the discomfort swiftly transforms into an intoxicating wave of pleasure, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake.

He moves with an urgency that suggests an impending deadline, setting a pace that mirrors a sense of immediacy, as if time is a luxury he can't afford. The reasons behind his haste remain a mystery, and in this moment, you find yourself indifferent to the ticking clock, wholly absorbed in the intensity of the present.

“Mmmhh. You’re so tight.”

You gasp at the force of his thrusts, feeling the impact resonate through your body as your back collides with the wall. The slight discomfort is eclipsed by the overwhelming pleasure, and his raspy pants only intensify the raw, visceral connection between you, each movement a symphony of pleasure and urgency. He thrusts forcefully, plunging into the depth of your pussy.

Wrapping your legs around him, you greedily pull him closer, breathless huffs escaping your lips with each relentless thrust. “Yes! Right there!” The pleasure becomes almost blinding as he unerringly targets that sweet, sensitive spot, sending shockwaves of pleasure that build an exquisite tension, promising an impending climax that pulses in the depths of your core.

“Shit.” He pants huskily into your ear, a shiver running down your spine in response. The intensity of his thrusts is unparalleled, each powerful movement leaving an indelible mark on your senses. The realization hits you that tomorrow might bring soreness, but in the heat of the moment, with a dick this good, you decide it's a price worth paying.

Your moans have evolved into uninhibited symphonies, each thrust hitting that exquisite spot that sends shockwaves through your body. The coil in your tummy tightens, ready to snap, just waiting for that final nudge to propel you over the edge. “I’m so close.”

Jungkook's grip on your ass tightens, but with skilled precision, he frees one hand and navigates it down the narrow space between your bodies. Despite the limited room, his large hand finds your clit and begins to rhythmically rub it to the beat of his thrusts. The sensation is mind-blowing. Every rub and thrust unravel your body, sending waves of ecstasy through every inch of your being.

Then he leans in, his hot breath grazing your ear, and he moans, pushing you right over the edge, “Come on my cock, pretty.”

“Jungkook!” You pant his name erratically as the coil inside snaps, and you release your fluid over his cock, synchronized with his relentless thrusts. You gasp for air, momentarily feeling your vision blur as your orgasm surges through your spent body.

He keeps thrusting into you, and you feel utterly spent, so you’re just hanging on and clinging to him for dear life. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, closing your eyes as he relentlessly fucks you, searching for his own sweet release.

At a particularly hard thrust, you open your eyes, and they collide with a figure standing in the shadows.

Brown eyes and blonde hair meet yours.

You gulp, feeling your core clench instinctively.

It's Jimin.

His eyes reflect a mix of sadness and disappointment as they lock onto yours for a few lingering moments. He turns away and retreats back into the lively party. You don’t appreciate the unsettling expression on Jimin’s face, but there’s little you can do about it now. A strange and disconcerting feeling settles in your stomach.

“Fuck, you just got tighter, babe. I’m almost there.” His hands tighten their grip, his biceps flexing as he pulls you closer, syncing your movements with the intensity of his thrusts.

You sense Jungkook's thrusts growing more erratic, a telltale sign he's close. Despite his exhaustion, he strives to give his all in those final fervent moments, and you feel the warmth of his release filling the condom inside you as his pace slows. He's visibly breathless, and you empathize; after all, he exerted himself, utilizing every ounce of strength to keep you elevated. In his position, you'd likely be a panting mess on the ground.

“You good?” He inquires, scrutinizing your expression. Whether he discerns the melancholy etched on your face or not, he doesn't comment. Gently withdrawing from you and discarding the condom, he steadies you on shaky legs. You respond with a pensive smile and a nod. The night was undeniably enjoyable, yet Jimin's forlorn gaze lingers in your thoughts, casting a shadow over the post-passion atmosphere.

“I had a good time, thank you.” You muster a smile, though it feels a bit strained. Whether he perceives it or not is uncertain, and even if he does, you doubt it holds much significance to him.

“Same here. Thanks, babe.” His laughter rumbles as he rights himself, adjusting his underwear and fastening his pants. As he tends to his attire, you scan the floor for your abandoned panties.

As you retrieve them, you notice the dirt clinging to the delicate fabric, deciding against putting them on. Instead, you allow them to slip from your grasp, figuring you'll retrieve them tomorrow for a wash. The last thing you want is to flaunt dirty underwear at the party.

Jungkook strides confidently back into the lively party, and you trail closely in his wake, anticipation and a lingering heat coloring the air around you.

As you reenter the vibrant party scene, a sudden hush falls over the crowd, and the weight of all eyes on you feels like an invisible spotlight, making you wish for a momentary escape beneath the ground.

As you scan the crowd for Jimin, your gaze briefly collides with his, only to witness him quickly diverting his eyes elsewhere.

A perplexing mix of emotions lingers in his gaze—perhaps hurt or frustration. Puzzled, you question the impact of your intimate encounter outside, contemplating why he might be affected when, by all accounts, you share no significant ties.

As you enter the dining room, the tempting aroma of Ha-rin's carefully prepared breakfast envelops you, offering a flavorful farewell before you embark on your journey back to the bustling city.

As you approach the table, a surprising sense of harmony fills the room, with everyone already seated, including Jessi, who appears to be in higher spirits—perhaps fueled by the knowledge that she’s getting rid of you today.

Soo-ah's eyes sweep the table, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she starts, “ I discovered a pair of lacy red panties outside the barn this morning.”

You nearly choke on your food, a sudden realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. “Shit. Those are mine. Completely slipped my mind. My bad.”

All eyes suddenly fixate on you, their curiosity palpable. Soo-ah's gaze is practically bulging out of her eyes, Ara looks equally stunned, and Ha-rin can't help but release an amused ‘ooohh.’ Even Jessi, with her usual nonchalant demeanor, can't completely hide the flicker of intrigue in her eyes as she rolls them at the unfolding gossip.

Curiosity and a mischievous glint spark in Ara's big brown doe eyes as she leans forward, her cheeks tinted with a hint of red, and pops the question, “Who did you fuck?”

Between casual bites of scrambled eggs, you drop the bombshell, “A guy named Jungkook. You know him?” The nonchalance in your tone does little to mask the intrigue dancing in your eyes, leaving the table hanging on your every word.

A heavy hush descends upon the table, and you scan the faces around you, perplexed by the sudden silence. Disapproval lingers in Jessi's slow shake of the head, while the exchange of disconcerting glances among the girls hints at a shared, unspoken concern.

“What’s wrong?” Concern etches your voice as you inquire, the subtle panic seeping through, unable to grasp the sudden tension enveloping the table.

Soo-ah leans in dramatically, her words hanging in the air like a heavy secret. “You fucked Jungkook,” she drawls, the gravity of her statement sinking in, and a chill coursing through your veins. “The same Jungkook who's been with half the town—Park Jungkook.” The weight of his name leaves you wide-eyed, a sinking feeling settling in your gut.

Your jaw practically hits the floor, or it would if that were humanly possible. Park? Jungkook and Jimin are brothers?

Fuck.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

Omg 🫢 How did you like the ending??? I hope you won’t be too mad… The fling with Jungkook only happens this one time, but necessary to happen for the rest of the story to make sense 🥲

| s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next →

91 notes · View notes

carolmunson · 1 year

Text

buttercup baby

(soft!eddie x badatfeelings!gf)

a/n and cw: i listening to 'build me up butter cup' on a loop while writing this. this isn't happy, and not totally following the trajectory of the blurbs but i was thinking about how eventually eddie would be so tired of feeling hurt all the time, and badatfeelings!gf just going in and out of the relationship as she saw fit -- like a revolving door. it borders toxic really heavily -- their magnetism to eachother. anyway, i took an amalgamation of fights i've gotten in with significant others where i've been both eddie and bad at feelings gf. 18+, mentions of smut, angst angst angst, hurt/semi comfort, all around frustrating relationship issue stuff. gif by: @theseymourbirkhoff

“You came here to talk, so talk.”

She toys with her fries, unable to look at him when he looks at her like that, talks to her like that. Hardened, a crease between his brow. He's only like this sometimes, when he feels wronged, when he knows she's wrong. When she won't let herself be wrong.

“Yeah but…I — you — You said you wanted to talk about things,” she stutters, head clouding, “Instead of just saying goodbye to each other like I said we should.”

“I didn’t want to do whatever dramatic bullshit you wanted to do,” he crossed his arms and leaned back in the cracked leather booth. Knees splaying out to take up space, making himself look bigger than her. He stared down her down the slope of his nose, eyes shining like amber slits under his eyelashes. The low yellow orange light danced over him, he looked like a painting. A painting that was so disappointed in her.

“I was joking,” she says quietly, eyes falling back to her plate, “Saying it was for 'the dramatics'. I was just joking.”

“Guess you always liked the dramatic parts of it, huh?” he asks, his voice is bored.

“If you’re just gonna be an asshole then I’m gonna go,” she looks up at him, courage shooting through her chest, “I didn’t come here for you to be mad at me.”

He sighs, “What did you come here for then?”

“To talk!” she shrills, “Like you wanted! Like you asked!”

“Don’t yell,” he hisses in a whisper across the table, “People are staring.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers back. Had she been that loud? Was she yelling? Her heart hammers in her chest while he continues to stare down at her. The same silent fight over and over. Her begging him to tell her the right answer but he always responds in a riddle she should’ve already figured out.

"Baby, sometimes I just...I don't get you," he shakes his head, leaning forward on his forearms.

"What's there to get?" she asks.

"You break up with me, for what, the tenth time in the last five years? Telling me I'm better off being with anyone else, a bunch of other bullshit you made up," he starts, "And a week later you're completely off your ass, callin' asking me to see you. To come fix it." A beat passes, his face looks pained.

"And you know I'll always come fix it for you."

Her jaw tightens and he tilts his head, "You can't do that to people, sweet thing. You're always...you always do this."

"Do what?" she grits out. "You just -- ugh, baby, you push. You just push, and push, and push -- and sometimes, I -- I don't know. I don't want to be pushed anymore. You make yourself so hard to reach," he explains, eyes shining, "So I just do what you want me to do: I go. I let you do it your way. It's always what you want and--"

"Always what I want?" she bites back, "Are you kidding me?"

"Let me finish," he warns. She looks back down at her fries, the milkshakes on the end of the table melting to cold chocolate milk. "Y'ask me to meet with you and now you wanna interrupt," he mutters before taking an unsavory bite of his burger. Ripping the bread and beef like an animal. "Eat like an adult, Ed. Jesus," you complain. He flicks his eyes up at you, a vein by his temple pulses. "Why don't you just fuckin' go, then?" he asks -- eyes dark and jaw full, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand -- the smeared grease makes his lips shine, "It's clear you just wanted to come here to show yourself off --" "Stop." "--give your whole schpiel, make me fall for you all over again--"

"Eddie, please, I--"

"--show up in my favorite jeans with that lipstick on. Of course you did, this is what you do." They stare each other down for a moment, the buzz of the lamp above them filling the silence. "You done?" she huffs. He lets out a frustrated laugh through his nose.

"Did you ever think that maybe I ended this because it's better for both of us?" she asks, "Ed, I -- I love you so much, I just want you to be happy. We don't make each other happy."

"Well ya see, babe. That's bullshit," he nods, throat tight, "That's fucking bullshit."

"What's bullshit?"

"That you love me. If you really loved me, you wouldn't do this shit to me," his eyes well with years, "If you loved me, you wouldn't leave."

He sniffs hard before taking a sip of water to steady himself. She looks at him in disbelief, heart hammering.

"That's a fucking manipulative thing to say," she spits. He puts the glass down with a clang, standing up and leaning on the table with his hands to get in her face.

“Yeah, well, who do you think I fuckin' learned it from?” he blurts out with a snide grimace. She swallows hard, teeth grinding. "You know what? Fuck this, man," he shakes his head, fishing into his back pocket to take out his wallet and tossing a few bills on the table, "I'm not doing this with you, again."

He shoves his wallet back in his jeans, adjusting his jacket while he walks out of the diner -- the bell shrills at the door when he opens it. She hears the murmuring of the waitresses, they've seen this fight a thousand times over from other couples, from the both of them.

She gets up to go after him, hustling while he walks towards the van and he can hear her gasping while she runs. The cold Indiana winter squeezing her throat. He whips around and looks at her while she slows to a jog, then to a walk. The Christmas lights in the window of the diner shine off the tears streaming down his face.

"What, baby?" he asks with a defeated shrug, "What more do you want f-from me?"

"I d-don't have anything left to give you," he continues, face crumpling, "You s-said it yourself, that you're not h-happy."

"I said we're not happy," she pleads.

"Speak for yourself," his voice drops to something low, solemn. You watch his adams apple bob while he thickly swallows his crying, "Bunny, you make me so happy. You've always made me so happy."

"No I haven't," she argues, her voice starting to crack. Her chest constricts, the cold dissipates while heat prickles over he body, down her throat and nose, "Steve told me that you felt like -- like I didn't like you anymore."

"Because I don't think you do," he shrugs, "And I was right."

The admission makes his eyes well up again, "And all I ever t-tried to do was make you happy and -- and love on ya, babe. I just wanted to h-help you."

"I don't need help."

"Fine, fucking -- fine," he says, trying to wrap his head around the finality of the conversation, "I can't do this with you anymore. I'm not gonna stand here and watch you lie to me. Stand here and -- and let you break my heart ten times over."

He walks around the van, the door creaks open and slams shut. She winces when the engine roars to life and he wastes no time pulling off into the road. She waits for the lights on the back of the van to fade out before she starts walking home, hands shoved in her pockets.

It's not late, but it's been dark for hours. The streets of Hawkins are quiet, lulled by a dark blue night sky, orange yellow streetlights, blankets of snow. It stretched for miles, the kind of image that you're not sure you're seeing with your eyes -- but with your chest. A place she wasn't sure was really there -- because she was always stuck somewhere between sleep and awake. Between breathing and drowning.

She takes the long way, cursing herself for not wearing the right boots. A heavier coat. His teasing rings in her ears, 'You're not a warm blooded 'Merican man like me, baby. You need a real coat.' He bought her one from the secondhand store two winters ago, still had the tags on it. It just made her sad to wear it now.

Her throat tightened again, thinking about the tree in her little apartment. Him slipping another gift under it every time he stopped by, always writing funny 'to and froms' on the tags.

'To: Valerie B. Love: Eddie V. H.' 'To: Rizzo Love: Kenicke' 'To: Lúthien Love: Beren'

To name a few.

She thought about returning them to him. They weren't going to be doing Christmas together this year...obviously. If he was happy before, he definitely wasn't happy now.

It was the thought of him on Christmas morning that did it. Wayne always worked Christmas Eve night, ever since Ed got big enough to not care so much -- so Christmas morning was reserved for her. Now he'd just -- be alone. When all he ever wants to do is remind her that sometimes Santa is covered in tattoos and wears all black.

She's not expecting it, but she heaves -- chest rattling when the first tear leaks out of her eye. Her feet are soaked and she's not sure if she's shaking from the cold or from the sob she's trying to keep from wracking her body. Maybe he was just trying to help. Maybe she made a mistake.

Lost in her thoughts and the crunch of the snow under her boots, she barely registers the chug of a vehicle rolling slowly along side her. She turns when the engine revs.

"Get in," Eddie suggests, head ducking down to see her out of the passenger side window, "Let me drive you home. S'too cold."

She turns her attention back to the sidewalk, shaking her head and sniffling, "Are you stalking me or something?"

"I -- no," he says, "I shouldn't have just peeled out of there, I should've offered. You're not dressed warm 'nough."

"I'm fine," she snaps, "I can take care of myself."

He stops the van and gets out, hopping awkwardly into other people's footprints to not get his Reeboks wet. His arms outstretched for balance while his chains clinked against his pants -- he steadies, standing infront of her. Two kids with cold feet.

"Get in the van, baby," he asks -- his voice soft and taming, doe eyes shining. The snow glistens back into them -- like sparkles, like stars, "Please?"

The dam breaks for the first time in a long time. It's not the blow out she was expecting. The low hiss of a kettle before the shreik. If she starts -- she can't stop. That's why she's so afraid to feel it. Lower lip quivering before a weak whimper leaves her chest, tears sliding down her face like a leak in the sink.

"Oh, no, no," Eddie coos, reaching for her, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't wanna make you cry."

"S'not you," she shakes her head, hands immediately wiping at her face but it's pointless. The tears continue, a waterfall of feelings she forgot about.

"What is it, sweet thing? What's got you cryin'?" he asks, arms wrapping around her like the coat she left in the closet. The red coat he saw in the second hand store that he knew she'd love. She looks so good in red.

"S'just...it's everything," she confesses into his chest. He savors this for a moment, witnessing her weakness, before his heart breaks again. He's stuck.

Once she gets back in the van, it's another promise he has to keep -- that they both have to keep. Until they do this all over again, until he's hurt all over again. It's making him bitter -- he doesn't want to be.

He drives her home and like a magnet he follows her into the house, clothes dropping off them like it's the peak of summer. He's not gentle, they both shove and bite, the both pull and drag. She begs him to fuck her like he hates her -- he doesn't have to try because he does hate her.

But he loves her more... He swears he loves her... He swears he loves her more.

if you enjoyed this, read more badatfeelings!gf: here

#eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x ofc #eddie munson smut #badatfeelings!gf

543 notes · View notes