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janitorhutcherson · 6 months

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Marked Only for Me (Olderbf!Mike Schmidt NSFW)

hii!! okay, i have never written smut before, so i am begging you all to plz be patient with me! this is very long, so my apologies.this is a part of my olderbf!mike series, so hope u guys likeee. also, for this let's make the assumption mike went to college and all of that before his security jobs. he just had burn out and was there, hence why he's working for a major company with what would be little experience. anyways, lmk what u think!

summary: mike comes home and needs to blow off some steam

warnings: nudity, sex, name calling, hair pulling, choking, marking, possessiveness, an implied free use situation, fluff at the end!!

word count: 2,925

nsfw after the cut!!

You were sitting at the kitchen table doing homework in the home you shared with your boyfriend, Mike. You're 20, a couple of years into college, drudging through math problems that make your head feel like it's sitting inside a frying pan. You had to admit this wasn't your ideal way to relax after a 10-hour shift at the bookstore you helped run. Things had been hectic with Black Friday, your store doing a special sale where everything was 50% off, and bookworms were coming out of random corners to fill their already overflowing shelves for cheap. Of course, being younger, you were the one who had to do the grunt work, carrying piles of books to and from inventory, dealing with the more demanding customers as your older coworkers would tell you that they "just couldn't handle kids these days" and that it'd certainly be better for the younger one to do it. Luckily, though, Abby was at a friend's house, meaning you didn't have distractions. You were as focused as could be with a cup of coffee beside you, the sunlight that was once beaming through the cracks of the blinds now completely gone. You were focused, your brain functioning as much as it would with the problems. Things were quiet.

...That is until Mike stormed in. He was frustrated, angry, an invisible red-hot aura beaming off him. His hair was messier than it typically was. The softness in his eyes was instead replaced with a cold look. His eyebrows were furrowed together on his forehead, his jaw sharp and defined as he gritted his teeth. Although this wasn't common, it wasn't necessarily rare either. Mike worked for a publishing company as a marketing manager. He'd gotten the job after a few months of hard work to make up for the slack on his resume after working at the mall and the pizzeria. He moved up the ladder quickly, his company admiring his friendly attitude and his somewhat shy but personable behavior. He loved his job much more than his past ones. He felt happier, got more time off, was less stressed, and was definitely safer. Even with that being said, sometimes shit just pissed him off.

Today's big issue was a meeting with his marketing team, which also involved the big guy over his head. He felt like he was criticized, demeaned, dragged through the mud, and all in front of the team he was supposed to be respected by, listened to. On a typical day, this might not have pissed him off so much. He might've mentally plotted the demise of his boss, but he wouldn't have caused the outburst he did at work, and today had been particularly awful. He'd been late, burned his breakfast, knicked himself while shaving, and even gotten into what he considered to be a little fight with you the night before. Even though you'd both settled the argument, made up, and kissed before bed, he had been thinking about it all day. He'd then spilled coffee on his brand new tie, leaving a stain, and then... that happened. Mike snapped. He yelled at his boss, showing his ass in front of everyone, causing a meeting in his boss's office to end with an inevitable write-up.

Now, he was home, trudging in all his bad energy, disrupting your study time. You couldn't even be frustrated with him, his demeanor proving he'd obviously had a bad day. You went to stand up to greet him with a hug, a kiss or two, but before you could, Mike stormed over to you, grabbing your arm harshly. You gasped, slightly thrown off by his sudden actions. He pulled you closer to him, his eyes locked on yours and his breath heavy against your neck.

"What the fuck, Mike?" you said, your eyebrows furrowed as you stared into his cold brown-green orbs.

"Listen to me," he grunted, his voice low and gravely. "I have had a very, very bad day, and I need you to be a good girl for me, okay? I don't want no shit, no back talk, you'll listen to what I say.. do you understand?"

His hand still gripped your arm, his fingernails digging into your skin. You could feel yourself starting to drip, your panties feeling damp against your skin as your body buzzed with excitement. All you could do was nod your head, your eyes locked on his as they clouded over with lust. Mike snapped his fingers in your face, looking at you from underneath his eyebrows.

"Use your words," he demanded.

"Yes sir, I understand," you stuttered out, your cheeks flushing red. Mike's face was now pleased, his entire demeanor softening a little. His hand stayed wrapped around your arm as he tugged you into the living room, pushing you roughly onto the couch. You huffed from the impact, your eyes widening as Mike dropped to his knees before you. He slid your sweatpants off, prying your knees open to reveal your see-through pink panties soaked beyond belief. His eyes were hungry, his mouth open, almost drooling as he looked directly into your eyes.

"All for me, babydoll?" he teased, his hand sliding in between your legs as he drew small circles around your clothed clit. You nodded your head as a whimper escaped your lips, the aching in between your legs only growing worse.

"What did I tell you?" he said, his words sharp as he smacked the inside of your thigh.

"Yes sir," you corrected, your words wavering after the impact from his hand. Mike nodded, satisfied with your answer, as he slowly slid your panties down your thighs, wasting no time. You gasped once again as the cold air hit your wet cunt. Mike exhaled sharply, taking a moment to admire you in front of him. His eyes trailed up to your pathetic look, your already-glazed-over eyes, down to your barely clothed chest, only a sports bra covering your breasts he loved so much, then down to in between your legs, where you were so wet, and all just for him. His lips trailed up to your tummy, sucking on the skin in different areas, from above your abdomen all the way up to right below where your sports bra stayed, purple marks forming.

He then dove in without hesitation, his large hands gripping your sides as he leaned in, moving one hand to take his index and middle finger to spread your pussy lips. His mouth instantly attached to your clit. You yelped as you bucked your hips forward, his lips meeting the sensitive area. Mike pinched your thigh, a sign to quiet down until he said to do otherwise, two of his fingers reaching out to be shoved into your mouth.

“Suck,” he demanded, his fingers going as far back down your throat as they could. You did what you were told, sucking on his fingers and drawing your own circles with your tongue. His tongue drew tiny and slow circles against the set of nerves, your hands reaching down to tangle in his hair from desperation. God, he loved eating you out. The way you yelped, quivered, shook underneath him, your hands tangled in his hair to keep yourself from going over the edge. He fucking loved it, you were the perfect cure to his anger, calming, something he could take it out on in a productive way that made everyone feel good. Your whines were suppressed as you bit your lip, your teeth digging into the softer skin. Mike pulled away for a moment, his eyes locking with yours once again as he admired your face, your now swollen lips.

“You know what, baby? Be as loud as you want for me now, princess,” he mumbled, going back to attacking your wet cunt. Slurping sounds filled the living room mixed with your moans and whimpers as his tongue slid up and down your slit, his lips wrapping around your clit to suck as hard as possible when his tongue wasn’t fucking inside of you. He moaned against you, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. His cock was rock hard inside of his work pants, his own face flustered as he rocked back and forth against himself. His tongue continued to lap at your clit as he slid two of his large fingers in and out of you, your walls clenching around them. You could feel yourself drawing close and Mike could tell. Your thighs attempted to clench around his head, but before they could his calloused hands pried them open, holding them apart. Just as your eyes began to clamp shut, your thighs shaking as the knot in your stomach started to untie, Mike pulled away. You gasped as he slipped his fingers out, furrowing your eyebrows as you stared at him with an angry glare. He chuckled as he stood up, raising his eyebrows up and down as he leaned down, his hand lifting your chin up.

“Poor baby, was all ready to finish for me, hm? You were gonna be ‘Mikey’s little slut,’ weren’t you? That’s what you tell me you are, right? My little slut?” he teased, no remorse behind his eyes. You huffed, punching his arm before crossing your arm, too out of it to say anything from the knot that remained in your stomach but too angry to take initiative.

“Awh, don’t be mad, princess,” he snickered, shaking his head as he leaned further down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “You really think I’m done with you?”

With that being said, Mike pushing you back on the couch. His right hand held you down as his lift struggled to unbutton his pants. He pulled his pants down, letting them fall around his ankles as he yanked his boxers off, his cock springing out. He stepped out of them, letting you go for a moment to unbutton his shirt before tossing it off as well. Mike then looked over to you, leaning forward, ripping your thin sports bra off of your chest, your breasts now exposed to him. He licked his lips, excitement overflowing his body. He crawled on top of you, attempting to make the two of you fit on the couch. His mouth attacked your nipples, biting and gnawing at your skin. His mouth moved up to your neck, sucking and prodding and biting until purple marks were left all around, ones you were all too aware would be impossible to hide later on. He moved down to your chest once again, marks all across your collarbone, your tits. Mike’s hands gripped onto your neck as he sat up, looking into your glossed over eyes. He pressed his lips to your ear, a soft kiss against your earlobe.

“’M about to fuck you so hard you see stars,” he said, his voice causing prickles to cover your skin. Then, without hesitation Mike slammed into you, his pace staggered. Your moans were as loud as could be, the sound of skin hitting against each other and the echoes of both of your voices filling the living room. His thrusts were sloppy as he felt himself starting to get close to the edge, his hands pushing your hips down and into the couch. Your entire body sunk into the cushions as he used everything in him, his cock abusing your poor cunt. You swore you saw stars until you felt his hand gently smack against your cheek, your eyes averting back to his gaze.

“You’re gonna look at me when I fuck you, princess,” he growled, his hand sliding up to your hair as he tugged. You grew close, clenching around his length, your thighs starting to shake. Your core was threatening to come undone.

“Fuck, Mikey, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum,” you whimpered out, closing your eyes as your head leaned back against the side of the couch.

“Cum for me, baby,” Mike stated. You did as he demanded, finishing around his cock as your liquids gushed against him. His thrusts grew sloppier before he pulled out, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“You’re such a good girl, you know that baby? You did so good for me, listening to what I said, letting me use your pretty cunt,” he stated, his thumb caressing your cheek. He then resituated, pulling you off the couch, pushing you onto the ground. You were now in the same position he was in earlier, completely fucked out. Your lips were dull from exhaustion, your cheeks red and your hair knotted in certain areas. Mike’s cock was directly in front of you, his hand guiding for you to suck on him. Your lips wrapped around his tip, the tip of your tongue licking his slit. You worked your mouth down his length, licking the sides. Mike’s moans became frantic, desperate as your mouth worked its magic. His hand tangled in your hair as he pushed your head up and down, thrusting up into your mouth.

“That’s it, baby, feels so good,” he grunted. With no warning, Mike pulled out, spilling his load all over your face. He twitched, his moans loud and low, your tongue stuck out to catch his cum. His body laid against the couch, feeling heavy as his head leaned against the back of his couch. A tired grin was on his lips as you also smiled up at him, licking yourself clean. Mike looked down at you, a chuckle releasing his lips. It was obvious all of the tension and anger was gone, as his once cold eyes were once again the soft loving brown they used to be. He looked at you with adoration, always amused by how gorgeous you were even after rigorous activity and getting your face painted.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, picking you up bridal style as he leaned down to kiss you, not caring about his own load that was now on his face. He sat you down on the bathroom counter, grabbing a washcloth out of the cabinet, running it under warm water. He started to wipe away all of the liquids covering your face, pressing kisses to your skin here and there, looking your body up and down as he admired all of the marks he left.

“You always know how to make me feel good and how to take care of me after,” you croaked out, your voice laced with exhaustion as you smiled. Mike smiled back at you, his hand tenderly touching your cheek before pushing your hair behind your ear.

“I love you, of course I want to make sure ‘m taking care of you,” he said softly. His lips once again pressed against yours. “Thank you for letting me… you know.. blow off some steam,” he said, wiggling his brows.

“Of course, honey. I was worried, though. Is everything okay? Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, leaning forward as you slid off of the counter, grabbing a new washcloth and beginning to wipe his face with it as well. Mike sighed, shaking his head as he looked at her with sad eyes.

“I just- I got into it pretty badly with my boss at work and got criticized, I felt like a wounded animal, like I had to fight. I’m so used to having to fight that I don’t know how to shut up and listen,” he mumbled. “It was so bad, Y/N, and I got written up after that awful day I had this morning… I just.. I don’t know. I do know I feel better now, and would feel even better if we cuddled for a bit and then went out for food?” he suggested, spilling his thoughts to you. You giggled, nodding your head as you reached up to press a kiss to him. You dragged him into your shared bedroom, the two of you cuddling up together under the blankets. You turned to your side, your eyes locked with his.

“I love you, Mike, so much. And I’m so, so unbelievably proud of you. Thank you, for always making me feel good too, for taking care of me, for being such a good brother to Abby, just… thank you,” you said softly. Mike looked back at you lovingly, his appreciation for you apparent.

“I love you, princess, you don’t even know how much,” he mumbled. His eyes were heavy. He leaned over and set an alarm for an hour from now, the two of you planning on a night of dinner out and grocery shopping. He curled his arm around you lazily, your body limp and exhausted against his as you yawned.

“Oh, and baby?” he asked. You hummed, lifting your head to meet his eyes. “Wear a crop top when we go out, I want everyone to see you all marked up.” You giggled as you laid your head down, drifting off to sleep.

When you two went out, you did just that, wearing a cropped scoop neck shirt with a low-rise flowy skirt. He showed off any marks you’d left, too, your possessive boyfriend holding you close anytime someone’s eyes linger too long. Mike was strange, possessive, and sometimes a little of what most would say was unsettling, but to you, he was the love of your life, the man who made you feel good, the one who fucked you until you couldn’t think. You loved him, and you always would, blessing you with a lifelong supply of angry sex and aftercare cuddles.

#josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt imagine #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson imagine #mike schmidt smut #olderbf!mike

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hoshigray · 11 months

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Pleasurable Practice

Here's what I got: when you're left in headquarters to study for an upcoming language skit, your boss and work crush, Miguel O'Hara, does what he can to help his subordinate. And he does, in more ways than one...

A/n: It's been a week since I saw the film in theaters, and my brain hasn't been the same. I tried very hard not to write for this man, but here we are. Sighhhh, I swear I wasn't this bad when playing EoT (curse you Oscar Issac, and the ATSV art department!!!). And it doesn't help that my social feeds are full of him...Anyway, I hope you enjoy this piece! It's WAY longer than I wanted, but I guess that's meant to show how much fun I had writing, hehehe~. Also, ty so so much for 600+ followers!!

Cw: Miguel x fem!reader - some ATSV spoilers so tread carefully - sexual context so minors DNI - fingering (fem! receiving) - cunnilingus - clitoral play (Miguel's fangs lightly brush your clit, but doesn't bite it) - praise - kisses on the stomach - pet names (amorcito/little love, mi alma/my soul; amor/my love; vida/my life) - sexual acts in public - outside intrusions, but you two don't get caught.

Wc: 2.8k

"Hey, Lyla. You sure you wanna leave me here?"

"Aww, you scared something would happen without me?" She chuckles when you shrug. "You'll be fine; everything's been taken care of for today. If something pops outta nowhere, you know where to find Miguel or give me a call. Alright, I'm outta here. Cya tomorrow~."

"Bye, Lyla~" With that, the pixelated woman signs off from your line of sight, and you slump into your chair with a sigh.

It's late at night in Nueva York. The Spider Society headquarters is still active, but fewer people occupy the halls and sectors in these late hours, you being one of them. You're sitting at a conference table by the teleportation room, taking in Margo's shift. But since things are quiet around here, you use this time to work on your homework.

Well, you would've if a pair of hands didn't suddenly come from behind and blocked your vision. "Guess who?"

You shake your head with a smile. "Aren't you supposed to be at Earth-50101 hanging with Gwen and Pav?"

The hands are removed, giving your shoulders a quick rub. "Can't say a quick bye before I'm off?" Hobie Brown walks from behind to sit on the table, avoiding the scattered papers on the surface. "What's all this? School?"

"Yeah," You pick up a paper with color-coordinated dialogues. " I got a reflection to finish and need to read this script for a skit in my modern language class on Wednesday."

"What language?"

"Spanish." You flip the script for him to look at. A giggle slips from you. "Suppose you can't help me, huh?"

Hobie grins. "Yo lo haría si pudiera." Your eyes go big. Of course, the guy who "doesn't believe in consistency" would know a thing or two about other languages.

".....Please stay and help me."

"Can't, perhaps next time." Another heavy sigh as the tall other gets up from the table and opens a portal to Pavitr's universe. "We'll save some snacks to bring back tomorrow. See ya then."

"Bye, Hobie." You groan with your head meeting the table surface as the portal vanishes with Hobie's dismissal. In despair, you lift your head up and proceed with your work.

It's about 11 p.m., and you were able to finish your paper in about two hours. It's now time to work on your Spanish script. Unfortunately, your class partner can't be here (obviously) to say his lines with you, but you two promised to highlight your lines and recite on your own downtime. So you follow through with the blue lines — your lines — avoiding the red lines and announcing all the words to the best you can.

After the third time around, you start to get to the rhythm of it. So in tune with what you're doing, you don't mind your surroundings as you circle around the table with your face glued to your script.

"What're you doing?"

However, it all comes to a halt when a voice startles you. So used to the silence and your own tone that you didn't notice a familiar man creep from behind you. Your eyes widen at the tall and well-built figure before you.

Miguel O'Hara, Spider-Man 2099 and the leader of the Spider Society — your boss who you have a major crush on and is still waiting for you to reply after nearly scaring you to death.

"O-Oh, Miguel, umm," you quickly straighten yourself up, but the heat in your face encroaches. "Sorry, didn't see ya there. I was just looking at this script."

"A script?" He slightly tilts his head, surveying your moves as you sit back at the table. He follows and peers behind your shoulder to see what you're working on. "For what?"

"It's for a skit in my Spanish class. I'm reciting my lines for Wednesday." He nods at your answer, glancing around to see you're alone. "Lyla signed off for a while, but she told me to tell you that if you 'need anyone to put a leash on you,' Jessica would answer the call."

The man narrowed his eyes and sucked his teeth, "of course she said that..." was all he murmured under his breath from his pixelated peer's words. With a heavy sigh, he turns back to the paper in your hand and extends out his. His silent request is answered when you pass him the sheet to skim. A brow is lifted. "Is the skit like some kind of married couple or—"

You confirm. "Yes. Our unit is on relationships, and my partner and I wanted to do a skit where the husband — my partner — comes home and surprises his wife with their favorite flower and then gives a nice speech on how much he loves her." Miguel still reads the script, but you continue on. "Luckily, our instructor said it's not our final where it's required to talk entirely in Spanish. So, we can say some English phrases or words if our brains go blank."

Miguel finally stops examining the script and eyes at you. "I can help."

Huh? "Excuse me?"

"You're the blue lines, right?" Correct. "Then I can be the red lines and help you practice."

Wait, no! "Oh no, there's no need for that, Miguel! I'm sure you're busy looking at the screens on your station and—"

"No pasa nada, Y/n," You gulp when he grabs a chair and sits close to you. "I'll say your partner's parts, and you reply with yours." There's no use in arguing with him out of this, so you just follow suit.

For the past thirty minutes, you and Miguel have been practicing. Sometimes he'll call you out on words you forget or mispronounce, which hurts your little heart being scolded like a child. But then there are times when he praises you for saying something correctly without second-guessing, or he'll ask for a pen to scratch off something and write a better phrase for you to say. And you can tell that your memorization's been improving thanks to his help. Maybe there was no need to be nervous.

The time is now 11:46, and you feel way more confident about this skit than before. Miguel can also tell by how much you've performed that you'll do fine on Wednesday. Guess that should do it. He puts the script down and gets up, heading back to his original post.

"Hey, wanna do the actual skit with me?"

Huh? "What?"

"Well, I was thinking," You squeak. "Maybe we can try acting out the skit without the paper now that I'm kinda getting the hang of it? But, I mean, that's only if you're okay with it, ya know..."

His brows trench down. Miguel knows he shouldn't do it; there are many universes in his post that he needs to keep an eye on in case anything pops off. He can't afford to just act out a scenario for some class. However, when he glances back at you, he faces mixed feelings. Your eyes look at his, nibbling on your bottom lip, and your fingers fidget with each other as you wait for his answer.

Miguel knows he shouldn't...but it won't hurt to comply this one time.

"Fine," your heart skips when he turns back to face you fully. "But don't mention it to Lyla or Jess. I'll never hear the end of it from those two."

"Of course!" You reassure him as you ready yourself, mentally calming the happiness brewing inside down. "You go."

He nods and plays the scene. He acts like he opens a door and holds an imaginary object. "Estoy en casa, cariño."

"Oh, bienvenido a casa, bebé!" You rush to Miguel and give him a hug. You feel him go rigid, and you freeze. Wait, he's still my boss and not my actual partner! Oh, God, I bet he regrets doing this now...Ughhh!! Commit now, cry later!

You quickly improvise and pull him by his spider suit to come close, placing pretend kisses on his cheeks. "Llegas pronto a casa, mi guapo muñeco. Is something wrong?"

Miguel stares at you for a few seconds before he blinks and coughs. "Ahem, Querida, vine temprano porque es tu cumpleaños. Y quería darte esto." The hand with the invisible object comes up, and you take it.

"Dios mío, ¿mi flor favorita en mi día especial?" You give the man a warm smile and place a hand on his cheek, stroking his skin lovingly. Miguel hitches his breath. "Eres demasiado buena conmigo, muñeco. Pero no tenías que regalarme nada."

It takes Miguel a moment, but he coughs once more and returns to the task. "Puede que la flor no fuera necesaria, pero tenía que conseguirla para ti, mi amor." He puts a hand on yours that's still on his cheek, now it's your turn to slow your breathing. "Cada vez que veo esta flor, sólo puedo pensar en ti. No sólo hoy, sino todos los días. Veo todo lo que haces por mí y nunca lo doy por sentado. You are my everything, Y/n. Tú eres mi mundo. Mi luz. Mi corazón. Mi… Mi…"

He stops, noticing your expression and shallow breaths. Your eyes never leave his, mouth agape, and your attention entirely on his words— no, on him. Even in this little act, you dare not move or say something out of turn. Listening to the man before you intently, your hand still in his.

He knows he shouldn't, but Miguel leans into you, and a small gasp leaves you before his lips press onto your soft ones. "....Mi alma."

Your brain short-circuits, the feel of his lips overtaking you. You awkwardly kiss him back, resulting in a moan from Miguel. He grabs your waist while pushing himself forward, making you walk backwards until you hit the table. The bump has you two break the kiss, forcing you back to reality.

Miguel says nothing, and so do you, your eyes honing in on his deep red orbs. Your thoughts go too fast that your head pounds. What? What was that? Did he mean to do that??

"Túmbate."

He captures your attention. "What?"

"Lie down, mi amor." He commands in a stern voice. Hesitance restrains you, yet you still follow orders and sit on the table with your back to the surface. A small smile creeps up on Miguel, and he leans down to plant more kisses on your sweet lips. "Good. Now, say your part."

Slow smooches from your chin to your neck leave you breathless. Although the heat in your face is unbearable, you play along and stick to the script. "My wonderful husband...Y...You are so thought—"

"Se supone que está en español, Y/n." He corrects you. Lifting your shirt to reveal your abdomen. Miguel kisses your exposed tummy while his hand snakes past your bottoms, pressing a finger down on the wet spot of your clothed vulva. Your toes curl as your first moan leaves puffy lips. "Try again."

You intake a deep breath. "Ere...Eres muy considerado con—Mmmm....conmigo." Your bottoms and undergarments are now off, your bare cunt out for Miguel to see. The older man props your legs upward with both hands as he brings his face close to your pussy. He lightly blows on it, and you bite your lip from the cold air. "Keep going, mi vida."

"Cuando....no haya luz en mi—Oooh!!" Miguel flicks your clitoris with his tongue before nestling it between your soaked folds, sucking and laving your essence. "Nnnmp! Mi-Miguel, I can't do thisss...Your tongue, it feels so, so—Oh Christ..."

His ruby eyes peek at your face. "But you were doing just fine, Y/n." The way he says your name feels so sinful, so forbidden. But so pleasing to the ears. "Repeat it."

His tongue goes back to torment your slit. The risque noises the wet muscle makes with your slick-covered chasm ring your eardrums. Ecstatic whimpers fill the space around you, and you grab tufts of Miguel's brown hair when his tongue flicks your clit again. He's impatient, so you concede.

"Cuando no haya luz en mi vida....Haaaahhh, sé que estarás ahí para protegerme." Miguel pushes your tender bud against his teeth. His canine brushing on your pearl, causing you to jerk. "Eres mi sombra...Mi—Ahhhh!....escudo....Mi rey."

He chortles, "Good job, mi alma."

Satisfied with your cooperation, the man sucks on your precious sex as his forefinger nestles between your folds, your slick providing lubricant to naturally push his digit through your entrance. You jolt with a sharp cry, tears falling from your beautiful face.

His tongue and fingers go faster, and your release climbs higher with every lick. The stimulation of your poor cunt and clitoris is hardcore that you come in a few seconds, the walls of your chasm fluttering around Miguel's fingers coated with your personal fluids.

Your heavy pants slow down to steady your body that subsides from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Miguel withdraws his mouth and fingers from you, standing upright to take in your figure.

He scoffs with a tiny grin, licking his lips. "Amorcito."

You open your mouth to say something, but a flash of colors and shapes captures the attention of both of you. Your eyes go wide. Oh no, someone's coming!

With haste, you immediately grab for your bottoms and underwear before taking cover under the conference table, using it to quickly put your clothes back on before someone enters through the portal. That someone was Jessica Drew, making her arrival known by revving her motorbike.

"Jess," Miguel puts on his usually serious face. But on the inside, he's almost as nervous as you. Because he swiftly pulls a chair out to cover his erection lower regions.

"Hey, Miguel! I thought I'd find you here." The woman addresses him when she's done a lap around the table. Her portal vanishes from the scene. "I've been trying to call you through your watch. You not wearing it?"

He looks down at his wrist where it was supposed to be. "...I was using the restroom, so I left it on my station."

"Mmm, I figured." Jessica then notices the paper and backpack on the table. "This is Y/n's stuff, right? Where are they?"

"R-Right here, Jess!" To her surprise, you come out from the table with your bottoms fully secured. "Sorry, I was looking for my pen before packing up." You smile to ease the awkward tension and your racing heart.

"Oh, okay then." Jessica nods to your words and turns to Miguel. "Anyway, I was calling you up because I need backup. The guy I was dealing with somehow switched places with another villain. Took care of the other one, but my guy's elsewhere."

He hums. "Lyla."

"That's me." The yellow-pixelated woman with pink heart-shaped glasses appears once more.

"Where are the coordinates of the anomaly Jess was handling?"

"I'm sorry, you want me to do what?"

"...."

"What's the magic word?" The tiny woman teases him while you and Jessica hold in your laughs.

Miguel's brows furrow with a slight pout. "....Canyoupleasesend—"

"Woah, woah, woah," Lyla gets closer to his face with each word, raising his irritation as she does so. "Little too fast there."

"Can you please give us the co—"

"Already gave it to Jess."

"Then what was the point—"

"You know how much I love to pester ya," her smile doesn't help squander his frustration, not when he also hears the exchanged giggles between you and Jessica. "And call that payback for not having your watch on you."

To avoid their eyes seeing Miguel's situation, he leaves and fetches his watch quickly after being repeatedly teased by the two women. He returns ready with his mask on and the device on his wrist. Lyla and Jess are waiting for him, same with you and all your stuff packed up. It's 12 in the morning now, you have to get home. "Ready?"

"Yup, see ya there." The woman on her bike starts it up. Lyla disappears when the dimension is opened. "Bye, Y/n!"

"Bye, Jess!" You wave goodbye to the woman, who does one final lap before entering the portal to her new destination. And now you're back to being alone with Miguel, who you find looking at you. You gulp and say your thoughts. "Don't worry, I didn't tell them! And, sorry that it happened. I was being a little too close to you in the first—"

"Hey." Miguel lifts a hand to stop you from rambling on further, and you listen. "Your skit. When is it again?"

It takes you aback that he asks, but you still reply. "Wednesday?"

"Hm. Alright then." And with that, he walks to the portal to his next mission. But before he exits, he peers from his shoulder and proclaims something.

"Tell me how you did on Wednesday, then we'll continue with this talk."

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bonchobrick · 1 year

Text

So I’ve seen some posts going around about a ‘Bruce adopts Danny and everyone thinks they’ll finally have a normal family member—Danny is very not normal’ and here’s my late night take on it.

Danny batfam au where they batfam tries really hard to keep their vigilante ass-kicking nightlife a secret from danny because he is ‘the only normal one in the family’ this becomes a problem however when danny gets kidnapped.

——-

The batfam all work together in a deeply serious family meeting to save their boy. After hours of combining their brains together they come up with a plan that will effectively save danny from joker, kick joker’s ass, and also make them look really cool while doing it.

So they bust in that warehouse, guns blazing, explosions fading in the background, a gust of dramatic dust covers the air

Batman steps infront of the rest of the team and demands to the blurry figure somewhere in the distance, “Where is Danny!”

The dust clears–they expect bad guys pointing weapons meancingly at them, they expect a cackle of a wicked clown amused at whatever plot he had planned coming to life, they expected a terrified boy perhaps tied somewhere likely siting in a chair that joker could present to the bats as a way of taunting them.

The dust settles–they observed their surroundings looking around and realize that, there are few new facts to be added into this ‘defeat the villain, get the bro, happy ending equation’

There is decidedly no weapons being pointed at them: In fact, all of the henchmen are already knocked out and tied up.

There is decidedly no evil laughs being echoed their way: In fact, the only noise that isnt coming from them is a light scritch scratch of a pencil

And there is decidedly no terrified little boy, there is a Danny however and he seems to be doing alright–actually scratch that.

Danny is doing wonders for the situation he’s in right now: In fact–

–Danny is sitting criss cross applesauce on-top a knocked out tied up Joker doing his algebra homework

The small blue eyed boy looks up at Batman's voice and visibly brightens, “Oh hey guys, I was wondering when you’d show up.”

Jason says with the utmost of comprehension, “...what.”

“So hi, I’m kinda new to gotham so sorry about beating these guys up, I think they’re villains? I dunno, anyways if you could take care of these guys while I call an uber home that’d be great.”

Danny sends them a blinding smile which would've been adorable if there weren’t a massive pile of bodies he were casually walking away from.

As Danny nears the exit he looks over his shoulder to the baffled group of vigilantes and blinks

“Oh yeah one last thing,” Danny rubs the back of his neck nervously, “Could you guys not tell the Waynes about this.”

Damian speaks up for the rest of his frozen family, albeit hesitantly, “I do think they have already been alerted of your kidnapping.”

“Oh no that's fine.” Danny starts nervously, “It's more about me being the… fighter… in this situation. I was just adopted by them and they seem really nice, I don’t want to scare them away being all grrrr im a scary monster boy and i love to hurt people argh.”

“I don’t think they’d think you're a monster.” Tim adds quietly

“Eh, tell that to my birth parents–they went psycho on me. Like evil scientist psycho, it was not as awesome as the movies make it sound, having scientists for parents.” Danny says bittersweet as he admits with a shrug

There is a moment of silence as the batfamily reevaluate the adoption file that states Danny’s family before they passed were very good people–albeit a bit excentric.

Dick blurts out, “Where did you learn to fight?”

Danny sends him an anxious chuckle, “I actually started when I was fourteen–my town always ran into some trouble so I had to step up. It’s part of the reason I moved here actually. I really don’t want anything to do with that hero vigilante life anymore…” The boy puts his hands together in a pleading motion, “So please don’t tell The Waynes!”

Bewildered at the situation as a whole they nod in a daze

The boys eyes widen at their easy agreement and he grins, “Thank you so so much! I’ve got to go now, it’s way past my curfew. but you’ll probably see me again next time I get kidnapped–I’ll make sure to put in a good word for you guys with my family bye!”

And just like that Danny slips off into the night leaving behind a family who were so sure they finally found a normal addition to their pack.

Jason sighs looking forlornly at the spot Danny had previously been standing, “You could just never pick the just semi-mentally healthy normal kids could you?”

Bruce groans pinching his the bridge of his nose

#dc x dp #dp x dc #fanfiction #danny phantom #batfam #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #maybes a fic #this was fun to write so probs part 2 later #Batfam: hello normal son #Danny with practicing the knot he learned in home ed on 37 criminals: hey guys #batfam: fuck #danny is a little shit #it’s up to your interpretation whether or not he’s genuinely clueless about the Waynes being the Bats #or if he’s fucking with them #ohkay going to sleep bye bye #mwah #also we do not see the bad grammar haha gn #veerliwrites

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yurmomsawh0r · 10 months

Text

•°His Perfect Little Wife °• - p2

You and Nanami’s relationship has been a little difficult during your pregnancy and one turn of events has you ready to divorce him. But Nanami would never let you leave. You were his wife and he’d never let you go.

@delightfulmoonbanana @i-killed-a-prostutute @muzanswaifu @ebonydumbslut

Sorry it took super long! I’m pregnant with a toddler and it’s super hard to have energy to write anything, but I’m definitely coming back on here because YALL, I have soooo many ideas in my notes for tumblr and oof I can’t wait to drop them! But I hope you enjoy part 2 it’s different from part 1 because I kinda had to make it a small story but anyways enjoy 😊 💙

Prompt idea by @ebonydumbslut

“ I’m literally fina write a whole plot feel free to just take parts from it but I’m thinking For his perfect wife maybe yandere and Angst like since y/n pregnant she hasn’t been at her best with waking up on time doing things for her husband hasn’t felt like having sex so her husband hires a maid and y/n can tell that she is trying to take her husband away being to Close and saying things like “ofc I will make you food if you were my husband with how hard you work I would make sure you didn’t even have to ask he doesn’t see it but y/n does he’s also been a little distant and hasn’t been able to see her much because when he comes home y/Ns sleep y/n know this and stays up untill he’s home and by the time she gets all pretty for him she walks down stairs to see her husband and the made doing something that looks inappropriate (yk how In the movies someone walks in at the wrong time and it looks wrong) anyways she runs to her room and he goes after her to tell her it’s not what it looks like and y/n is getting ready to go to her moms house or something she tells him that he can have the maid and she’s going to leave and this is we’re the yandere starts he tells her she can’t and what about there baby and whatever else you want he makes y/n feel bad and she stays then he shows her how much he loves her by yk having sex’s loud to the maid hears everything while there having sex he tells her how she knows that she can’t leave because she needs him she’s to much of a dumb slut to do anything without him all she’s good at is being his perfect little wife y/n falls into this brain washing and promises she will never leave and that she’s his and will always be you could also put some fluff in there sorry for how long this is I Basically could have made the book for you😭”

CW - Yandere-ish, Manipulation, mentions of cheating, pregnant reader, penetration, pregnant sex, cursing, pet names, mentions of a divorce

Part 1 here

–

Nanami was frustrated to say the least. Between working extra hard and keeping your need’s satisfied, he definitely had his hands full. He wiped the sweat from his brow as he typed away on his computer. It was going on another late night and he had many things to get done. It always felt like he’d never have another second for himself or for you.

A knock on the door had an oh - so, very tired Nanami shifting in irritation. “What?” Came his groggy, stress filled voice. A subordinate of his walks through the door. A file in his hand. “Sorry sir. I just wanted to drop off my report you requested.”

“Place it in the black tray.”

The man did what he was told, quickly placing it in the tray and making his way out of the office.

Nanami glanced at the clock and seen that is was going on 1 am in the morning, making a sigh leave him. He knew you’d be in bed by now. You both couldn’t seem to catch a break. Nanami thought about the conversation you both had about hiring a housekeeper. You were about 4 months pregnant and you’ve grown quite a lot. It was getting hard for you to keep up your regular routine.

Nanami has even taken it upon himself to be home more to help out, but it was definitely putting him back, which resulted in him having many late nights and causing him to be way more irritated than normal. Anytime you both found a moment to yourselves, you would be to tired to do anything. You slept way more than you normally would these days, which he didn’t mind. It wasn’t your fault you ended up pregnant.

It was decided, he would take it upon himself and hire a housekeeper as soon as possible once he was able to cut back his work load.

~*~

It’s been about 3 weeks since the new maid started working for you both. She had tremendously been a big help around the house keeping things tidy and organized. Although you’ve had more help around the house, you still haven’t been able to see your husband for a while. The times you both did run into each other, he would always seem irritated with you. You knew work has been hard since he’s been catching up, so you decided to suck it up and do the things he normally liked.

“Oh! I see you cooked dinner Martha!” You honestly weren’t surprised. The past week she had been taking over in the kitchen before you even had a chance. “It was no problem. I understand that you’ve been tired lately.”

Although that was true, you usually pushed yourself to cook dinner for your husband but you haven’t been able to because she always did. It kind of bothered you, but you decided to try and be grateful for all the help.

“Well thank you, I can prepare the plates for dinner, as well as Nanami’s lunch for tomorrow. You can take the rest of the day off.”

“Oh no need ma’am. I already prepared his lunch as well as his plate for dinner.” She spoke. This was another thing that bothered you. She always took it upon herself to do more than she needed. You even seen that she left a note on his lunch one time. It was a small “Have a great day at work.” But you felt as though she crossed a boundary. This was your husband, not hers. Leaving notes wasn’t in her job description.

Before you could say anything else, the front door opened and in walked your husband. You went to greet him as usual. Helping him remove his coat and hanging it up for him. “Hi honey! How was work.”

He only grunted. “It was work.” Was all he said and brushed passed you, not a single glance your way. Not even a small forehead kiss as he usually did. An ache in your heart throbbed through your body.

In the kitchen, you could hear Martha speaking to him. As you went to peak, you seen her placing his plate in front of him and pouring him a glass of wine.

You couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t hurt you to see the small act, but it did. Your own sensitive emotions plus being pregnant didn’t help, the tears started to flow. You turned on your heels and made your way to your shared bedroom skipping dinner that night.

Weeks had passed and still nothing had changed, well except you did. You weren’t yourself. You had completely stop doing your house work and just left it to the maid since, she took it upon herself to do everything. So you just rested in bed most of your days falling asleep when ever he felt like it.

You haven’t seen your husband for most days. By the time he came home you were already in bed passed out.

Martha had also been getting a little too close to your husband for your liking but Nanami didn’t seem to care to stop her advances so you assumed that maybe your were making things up, but you couldn’t help but think about all the little smart remarks she took it upon herself to say.

“Wow, you’re such a hard working man, if you were my husband I’d be sure to reward you everyday.”

“Would you like me to give you a massage sir?”

Maybe she was being nice? Maybe you were reading into it a little too hard. Either way Nanami didn’t seem to mind her forwardness so maybe you shouldn’t either.

Having enough of your pity party, you finally decided that it was time to put an effort in getting your husband’s attention again.

That night you got yourself all clean and dolled up in one of his favorite lingerie pieces and one of his t-shirts. He loved seeing you in his clothing. He always told you it made him feel like the best man in the world seeing his woman comfortable in his attire. It was almost 1 in the morning, the usual time he had gotten home. You had waited all night, despite being so tired, to see him. Lights shown through the curtains and the sound of a motor vehicle pulling into the drive way shook away any traces of sleep you had in you.

This was it! Tonight’s the night you and your husband rekindled.

~*~

Nanami walked through the door tired as ever. He was finally done with playing catch up and attending hour long business meetings for the month. He’s finally be able to catch a break. He felt as though he had be in a trans working and powering through his long streak, and finally he would be able to settle down for a while.

He made his way to the kitchen to look for something to eat. I was a little after 1 so he knew you’d be sleeping.

When he entered the kitchen, he was surprised to see Martha standing there in nothing but a small tank top and shorts to short for her size.

“Oh! Nanami, I didn’t think you’d be home just yet. Are you hungry?” Nanami only grunted and moved passed her and headed towards the fridge.

“Would you like wine with your meal sir?” The sultry tone of her voice rung in his ears. He eyed her suspiciously for a moment before shrugging it off. “No thank you, not tonight.”

He told her with a monotonous tone. He grabbed his plate that was left in the fridge and placed it in the microwave to warm.

“Alright, I’ll just put this back then.” She had a smile on her face as she strut her way towards the wine holder that was just behind where Nanami was standing.

Just inches away from him, she had stumbled, almost dropping the bottle in the process. Nanami kept forward, grasping her in his arms just as he was able to fall, allowing her to wrap her arms around his neck as if they were lovers about to ignite in a night of passion.

She giggled, pulling him closer. “I’m sorry, I’m such a klutz! It’s a good thing a big strong man like you were here to catch me! You’re just like a knight in shinning armor. And my knight deserves a kiss for saving me.”

As she tried pulling him closer, Nanami started to pull away, but it was too late. A small gasp had them both frozen.

“Oh! My lady! I didn’t think you’d be up.”

There you stood from your stop in the kitchen, watching as your maid and husband were about to share such a passionate kiss. It brought tears to your eyes seeing how good they looked together.

You knew you hadn’t been up to par in taking care of yourself as well as him, but you didn’t think he’d cheat on you for such a small inconvenience.

“Wait! Y/n-“ He called out to you but you just turned and ran to your bedroom to grab everything you needed to leave.

Nanami dropped Martha letting her fall to the floor leaving her in pain as he chased after you.

Once he made it to your shared room, he saw that you were packing a suit case with everything valuable and important to you.

“It’s not what it looked like y/n” he tries to reason with you but you didn’t listen. “I don’t care Nami, it’s not like I haven’t noticed we haven’t been the same in a while. Especially since she got here.”

“What do you mean? I know I’ve been busy, but I’d never do something like that to you. I love you.”

“You don’t love me. If you did you wouldn’t have been all up on her. But it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m done.”

This caused Nanami to freeze. His voice dropped, a menacing tone sounded in his voice. “What do you mean you’re done?”

It sent a chill up your spine but you remained strong. “It means I’m done. I want a divorce. I can’t do this anymore. My own husband doesn’t even want to look at me, let alone act like I exist.”

You finished packing whatever you could and zipped it up, but Nanami was faster than you. He grabbed your luggage and threw it aside, shattering your vanity. “What is your problem! I don’t understand why you are so upset. Go be with your fucking mistress!” You yelled.

“I’m fucking upset because my wife is trying to leave me over a misunderstanding!” He cornered you. His pupils dark and expression angry. It was look you never wanted towards you.

He broke out into a laugh that boomed into the room. “You can’t fucking leave me y/n. You can’t break up our perfect little family that’s just getting started.” His hands slid up the sides of your waist pulling you closer to him.

“I take good care of you and I always will. No matter what. You are mine and I’d never let you go. I need you here with me little one. I don’t know what I’d do if you decided to break up our perfect little life.”

A flood of memories flew through your head. Even images of the future that you thought were to come. You felt a little guilty for trying to leave instead of making things work, but you couldn’t help but think about him being with another woman.

“How long have you been messing with Martha.”

Rage sparked in his eyes as he punched a hole in the wall by your head making your scream. He gripped your chin tightly and forced you to meet his gaze.

“I’ve never touched that fucking woman! She fell and I caught her, nothing more. Do you understand?” When you didn’t respond, he sighed.

“My love. My perfect little bunny, must I show you just how much you mean to me? Shall I show you that nobody can make you feel the things you do for me? Hmm? Must I show you one of the many reason that you love me?”

“Must I remind you who you belong too!?”

~*~

You couldn’t think straight. You really couldn’t think at all. The only thing filling your senses was your husbands dick penetrating you so hard and deep. Your face was wet with tears and saliva that pooled onto the pillow as he drilled into you from behind.

“Ahh, you feel so good little one.” He grunted in your ear. Nanami gripped your neck and pounded deliciously into you. The feeling of your juices getting him going.

It had been too long since you both last had sex and he was going to make it last as long as possible.

“And you’d thought I’d let you leave? With my baby in your womb? You’d thought I’d let another man have you? No, I’d kill anyone who thought they would have a chance.”

Your body shook as another orgasm ripped through you, but he didn’t let up, he just fucked you harder through it. “P-please Nami!”

But your please fell on deaf ears. “No, not until you learn that you can never leave me. You’re mine y/n. You’re nothing but my little dumb slut, my perfect little wife.” He licked up your tears grinding deeper into you.

“Say it! Say that your mine and that you will never leave me! Say that you’ll stay and be my perfect little housewife forever.”

You could feel him going deeper and deeper, skin slapping against each other in perfect rhythm. It was too much, you couldn’t even get a word out. You were moaning so loud and the bed was banging against the wall you were sure it would break. You were also sure Martha could hear everything.

“I’m waiting my little bunny.” Nanami’s voice warmed you. You gushed around his cock even more at his power over you.

He was dominating you. Showing you that you were indeed his. Nobody would make your body feel the way he did. Nobody ever could.

Just as another orgasm ripped through you, you wailed “y-yessss Naaamiiii, yessss i-im yours!”

“You’re my what?” He pressed his shaft into the opening of your cervix making you yelp. “IM YOUR DUMB SLUT DADDY!”

He moaned as he felt you squirt on him. Your essence pooling on the sheets. “Uhhh, that’s it! Let daddy have it all!”

His thrust started to get choppy as he reached his own peak. Spilling all of himself into you. Telling you how much he loved you. How he would never let you go. Ever.

As you both came down, he pulled you into his arms, gently caressing your face and smothering you with gentle kisses. You were exhausted. Falling in and out of sleep with a dazed but satisfied look on your face.

“Fire her.” Was all you could muster up. Nanami laughed and kissed your soft lips.

“Your wish is my command my lady. It always will be.”

You both laid there in each others embraces.

“But don’t think I’m done with you my love. You have awoken a part of me by just telling me your going to leave me. I need to make sure that never happens again.”

His perfect little wife, forever and always.

#smut #anime smut #mature themes #jjk angst #nanami smut #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #toxic relationship #angst #yandere #y/n #part two is finally done ✅#jjk #just read #jjk x y/n

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 4 months

Text

Ravel

A Seams Christmas special oneshot | Moodboard

{ Part IV: Notch | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: T

Summary: Joel swings by yours with a little something before Christmas dinner at Tommy and Maria's.

Warnings: Unapologetic fluff and softness, inspired by this ask from @casssiopeia from the beginning of the year, no use of Y/N, very lightly edited

Word count: 2k

Notes: I'm so proud of writing up this little drabble. I've been in such a weird place with my writing, I'm just happy to end the year on a creative high. Obviously, I'm a few days late to Christmas, but better late than never!

There is a voice in my head telling me that this isn't good enough, that it doesn't hold up to what I was writing earlier this year. But I need to rewire my brain. There is no such thing as 'good' or 'bad' when it comes to fanfiction. All fanfiction is good fanfiction. This is our hobby, not our jobs, and we need to be kind to ourselves.

I am posting this at 11:59pm on New Year's Eve. Happy new year y'all, I hope Joel and Pin can bring you some festive cheer ❤️

Joel is this close to have a fucking breakdown.

He would measure out how close this is between his thumb and index finger if they were not currently tangled in webs of yarn, rapidly unravelling from from the bottom of what is supposed to be a sweater.

Your sweater.

The book that Lucy lent him months ago lies on the table before him, the pages yellowed and dogeared, open at the the easiest pattern of the lot to knit - a simple pullover in chunky yarn, in your favourite colour.

Well, it was supposed to be easy, anyway.

Despite Lucy basically holding his hand throughout the whole project, he’s had far less time than anticipated to work on it. Too many nights he finds himself at Tommy and Maria’s, elbow deep in dirty baby’s clothes and diapers, making himself useful for whatever needs to be done around the house.

Even Ellie chips in without being asked, often bringing back food from the canteen and making sure the severely sleep-deprived adults are eating, if not well fed. Joel honestly doesn’t remember how he did it with Sarah as a clueless twenty-something, with an even more clueless younger brother.

As he attempts to free himself from the quagmire of wool, he grimaces at the stiffness all over his body, feeling it especially in his back after sleeping in an armchair all night with a rapidly growing two-month old.

He’s too old for this shit - but there’s no saying no to the little rascal with Tommy’s nose and Maria’s eyes.

The knitting needles clatter to the floor when he jumps at the front door opening and slamming shut, a frustrated fuuuuuuck slipping past his gritted teeth.

Ellie’s voice rings out loud and clear as she scampers up the stairs, getting progressively louder until she’s outside his study. ‘Hey! Did you remember to put the potatoes in the oven? We have to leave for Tommy’s in an hour - dude, what the fuck is happening?’

‘What do you think is happenin’?’ he growls.

Crossing her arms, Ellie leans against the doorframe wearing a far too amused expression. ‘Maria said no gifts.’

Joel rolls his eyes. ‘It’s not for Maria.’

The teenager squints, perplexed, at the bits of wool in his hands. ‘What is that meant to be?’

‘... A sweater.’

Ellie bites her bottom lip, holding in a poorly concealed giggle. ‘I think a sweater is meant to have sleeves.’

‘You think?’

‘Want me to go get Lucy?’

With a heavy sigh, he mutters, ‘Fine.’

At the arch of her half-eyebrow, Joel adds begrudgingly, ‘Please.’

Ellie grins, sneakers skidding on the floorboards as she takes off. ‘Hang in there, old man!’

Despite the cold, his palms are sweaty, sticking to the kraft paper wrapped haphazardly around the even more haphazard package clutched tightly in his right hand.

The night air mists before him in puffs of white as he shuffles a path through the falling snow. His ears are tingling from the cold, and flexing the stiff, frozen tips of his fingers, Joel knows he should’ve worn his gloves. They weren’t in their usual place by the door though, and he was so frazzled that he barely got his shoes tied up before dashing out the door, sending Ellie ahead with the potatoes (that are definitely undercooked) to his brother’s.

Your cottage glows yellow and orange in the darkness, and your stairs no longer creak when he trudges up them, having fixed them just in time before the first snowfall.

He hears your footsteps come from deep within this house when he knocks. Your eyes are wide when your door cracks open tentatively, but then your lips curve into a smile - the smile that he takes with him and keeps him warm when he has to leave Jackson for days-long patrols.

‘What are you doing here?’ you ask, ushering him inside, not batting an eye at the snow he tracks inside. ‘I thought we were meeting at Maria’s.’

Pressing a kiss to your lips, he softens at the way you lift your face towards him to catch it, careful to keep the parcel out of sight behind his back. ‘Yeah, we were, but thought I’d see if you need a hand with anythin’.’

‘Such a gentleman,’ you tease.

A low fire burns in the hearth, the wood he chopped for you in the fall stacked in a tidy pile next to the mantelpiece. Sweeping his eyes across the living space, he spots the book with the cracked spine that he reads when he’s here on the coffee table, next to yours. On the other side of the couch is the Christmas tree that he cut for you, and he watched you dress it up in tinsel and fairylights one night after a quiet dinner and before hot cocoa under thick blankets.

He likes seeing himself at your home. In the things he does for you; in his things, casually scattered around - like they belong in your space.

‘The pies are in the kitchen, could you please put them in a bag?’ you ask. ‘I’ll just grab my coat and we can go.’

‘Sure, sweetheart,’ he answers, waiting until you’ve disappeared into the bedroom before setting down the present under the tree.

He’s leaning against the back of the couch when you pop back in, a few layers deeper than when you left him, the pies nestled safely in a carrier bag by his boots.

‘Shall we?’ you ask brightly.

Joel hesitates, wondering if he should wait until after dinner to tell you about the present. It only takes his eyes darting to the foot of the tree for the briefest moment for you to catch on. The slow smile that stretches your cheeks and lights up your eyes warms him from the inside out.

You cock your head to one side, playing coy. ‘What’s that, Joel?’

He shrugs, feigning cool. ‘Why don’t you go ahead and find out?’

His chest physically swells at the way you dash towards the tree, landing on your knees in uncharacteristic recklessness, the impact only softened by the rug underneath. You cradle the lumpy package to your chest like something precious. ‘You got me a present.’

He settles on the end of the couch next to you, his heart beating harder in his ribcage than he’d like to admit. ‘Don’t get your hopes up, sweetheart.’

You frown at him. ‘Why?’

‘You’ll see, but I wanted to give it to you anyway.’

You open the package carefully, as if it was wrapped in the fancy paper people used to buy at the shop. Joel holds his breath when you peel it away to reveal what’s inside.

He’s far too inside his own head to hear your inhale that sounds a lot like wonder. You pick up the sweater gently, shaking it out, and Joel winces when he sees it in the flicker of the firelight.

Disastrous doesn’t begin to cover it. Lucy managed to connect the sleeves to the shapeless body in a last-ditch salvage attempt, but one is clearly longer than the other. The stitches are untidy, some have obviously caught onto something and pulled loose. Rough around the edges is putting it kindly.

Joel wants to reach out, grab it, chuck it into the fire and let the flames swallow it whole.

Finally, the silence gets the better of him, and he blurts out. ‘I’m sorry.’

You stare at him, stunned. ‘What?’

Under his whiskers, his cheeks flush in embarrassment, and he rambles, ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinkin’. You deserve better sweetheart, here, let me -’

You almost lose your balance keeping the sweater out of his reach. ‘Don’t you dare, Joel Miller.’

Confused, he watches you rise to your feet, shucking your outer coat and another layer. ‘What are you doin’?’

Grabbing the sweater, you slide it over your head and thread your arms through the sleeves. The soft knit drapes over your curves, too big over your shoulders and the hem falling unevenly, higher on the right side than the left. One sleeve is long enough to cover half your hand, while the other sits right on the wrist.

And yet.

You’re beaming like you just picked up something at Bloomin’dales or whatever the fuck those department stores were called back then.

‘I love it,’ you declare, no trace of irony in your voice, as hard as he’s trying to find it.

He scoffs in disbelief. ‘C’mon, sweetheart, you’re just sayin’ it -’

You surprise him, grabbing him by the scruff of his collar and dragging him towards you to plant a firm kiss on his lips.

‘I love it,’ you repeat slowly, with conviction, as if willing him to believe you. ‘Thank you.’

He doesn’t quite still, but he smiles and kisses you back. ‘Merry Christmas, sweetheart.’

‘Since we’re doing this -’ you trail off, sliding out of his grip to reach around the back of the tree, pulling out a neatly wrapped gift. ‘This is for you.’

Joel pauses.

For him.

For the longest time, nothing had been for him unless it was soul-crushing grief and pain.

And yet here it is - his name on the tag written in your neat handwriting. Something he can hold in his hands. For him.

His fingers tremble when he reaches out. The package is soft, and the paper crackles under his grip. He all but tears it open, uncaring of the way the wrapping falls to the floor.

A laugh bubbles out of his throat, and you look relieved at his reaction. ‘You like it?’

It’s not quite a Santa hat. It’s a chunky dark red beanie with a white brim folded back, and topped with a white pompom.

‘My ears were so cold walkin’ over. It’s perfect,’ he says, pulling it over the crown of his head. Of course, it fits just right, sliding soft and warm over his ears. He adds with a wink, ‘Y’know what, I might just shimmy down some chimneys after dinner.’

‘As long as you shimmy down mine too,’ you retort, not hearing the euphemism.

Joel quirks an eyebrow at that, one large palm squeezing your backside through the layers. ‘That an open invitation, sweetheart?’

You duck your head, more out of habit than actual shyness, with mischief in your smile. ‘Don’t be so crude, Joel Miller.’

Adjusting his new hat so that it sits comfortably, he points at the pompom and jokes, ‘Shame I can’t wear this on patrols.’

Right on cue, you hold up a finger. ‘Funny you should say that.’

He chuckles when you pull out a second, plain black beanie, as if out of thin air. ‘You really thought of everythin’, sweetheart.’

You shrug playfully. ‘I’m smart like that.’

‘I know you are,’ he smiles.

‘Merry Christmas, Joel.’

His lips find yours again in a slow, lingering kiss that has you leaning into him for more when he pulls back. ‘Thank you. For everythin’.’

You hold his gaze - heavy with meaning, light with joy. It wouldn’t take more than a tilt of the head towards the bedroom to derail your evening plans, and you both know it.

In the end, you’re the one who stays strong. Taking one step back from his warmth, you reach for your coat. ‘We’re late, we should go.’

His eyes widen. ‘Wait - you’re not wearin’ that to dinner are you?’

‘Of course I am,’ you say, buttoning up your coat over the sweater.

‘You don’t have to, sweetheart,’ he almost pleads with you.

You grin, heading for the door, blowing out candles as you go. ‘Too bad, I’m never taking it off.’

Joel shakes his head with a wry huff. ‘Well, I hope not never -’

You have one foot out the door when you suddenly remember. ‘I almost forgot - you left your gloves here last time. They’re in the cupboard by the door.’

Ah, that’s where they went. He opens the drawer and pulls them on, one after the other, the leather, worn smooth with age, creaking as he wraps his fingers around the handles of the carrier bag.

Joel is about to follow you out the door when he pauses over the threshold. Glancing down at the black beanie in his grasp, he reaches up and hooks it on the coat rack, nestled among your clothes.

He hopes that when the time comes for him to wear it for the first time - maybe on a patrol that will take him away from you for a few days - it will smell like you.

Gorgeous dividers by @firefly-graphics ❄️

More notes: I hope I will return to the main series in the new year. I've missed these two lovebirds, I hope you enjoyed this little interlude! ❤️

#fuckyeahseams #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #goodbye 2023

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babyleostuff · 11 months

Note

Hiii!!! so I just read your cheol fic when he was being a dick for his s/o caring (it hurts... it's the beginning of the title, sorry brain is fried from uni) I was wondering if we could get the in-between of the fight like in the practice room after s/o left and everyone was shocked. mingyu fought him?? like gotta know what happened, anyway sorry if this is too long

hope yoyr day, night, evening, morning, or whatever time it is for you is going well!! your writing is so captivating too btw

-Nabi

thank you so much for your request 💜 hope you enjoy this!

you can find part 1 here

HURTS SO BAD | PART 2 | CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

summary | seungcheol’s pov from my previous fic

genre | angst

word count | 1k

pairing | choi seungcheol x gn!reader

“Fuck you, Seungcheol.”

Instantly, as these words escaped your mouth, he regretted every single thing he just said, praying that he could somehow turn back time. But there was nothing he could do now, the damage was done, and he simply watched you leave with a heartbroken expression.

He wanted nothing more than to crumble into a small ball and hide somewhere far from here.

Despite the music still playing from the speakers, the silence in the room was almost deafening. Seungcheol could feel the hard stares from the boys, as they tried to wrap their heads around what just happened.

“Did you actually lose your mind?” Jeonghan was the first to speak up. Seungcheol didn’t dare to look up and face the disappointed expressions of his friends.

“Never in all those years we have been together have you ever said anything so cruel, no matter how fuck up things were. And now you lash out at your, mind you, partner for being worried about you?” Jeonghan scoffed, clearly angry at his bandmate.

Seungcheol knew that there was nothing he could say or do to make this situation better, he only stood there with hunched shoulders and a tight throat.

“What has gotten into me,” he thought.

Yes, he was stressed as hell, and everything irritated him lately, but he swore he would never take his anxiety out on you. Well, until now.

The jacket you threw at him caught his attention, laying abandoned on the floor. Is this how you feel right now - left behind and neglected, by the person who was supposed to love you no matter what? He took a step to pick it up, still feeling the warmth of your body coming from it.

“I’m going to fix this,” Seungcheol said quietly, putting the fabric to his chest.

“Did I hear you right, hyung? You’re going to make it right?” laughed Mingyu, approaching the older one. “You just yelled at your partner and told them the worst things you could have ever possibly said. We can put up with your bitchy behavior, but that’s not an excuse to treat them like shit,” he said, clearly very agitated by the whole affair.

“Let it go Mingyu, he knows what he has done. It’s his problem now how he’s going to get out of this shit,” said Jihoon, putting an arm on the taller’s shoulder to calm him down.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t change the fact that he just basically emotionally abused one of my best friends.”

“Hey, don’t you fucking dare saying I abused them in any way,” Seungcheol raised his voice at at younger boy, his emotions getting out of hand. “I know what I have done, and I’m going to make it right again,” he said, not exactly convinced himself.

“So what, you think you'll buy them flowers, pout and make puppy eyes, and they'll forgive you?” he scoffed and crossed his arms, making him look bigger than he already was.

“No, making puppy eyes is your thing, I’m not that cheap,” Seungcheol fired right back at him.

With each exchange between Seungcheol and Mingyu the tension only escalated, the atmosphere becoming charged with a mix of anger, frustration, and hurt. Their tones harsh and cutting, both of them tried to defend their position. Sadness, and disappointment were evident on their faces, further fueling the intensity of the situation.

“I messed up, alright? But you're acting like I hurt them on purpose-.”

“Well, to us it looked like you wanted to-.”

“Could you just stay the fuck away from my relationship and focus on your shitty love life?”

The rest of the boys, who were skeptically watching what was going on, knew this wouldn’t end well. Mingyu might have been passive most of the time, letting the others walk over him and still not batting an eye, but when it comes to his friends and their well being, he wouldn’t just stand around and watch.

Wonwoo who was standing by the mirrors slowly came up to Mingyu and patted his back.

“There is no use Mingoo, you’re not helping here,” he said sternly.

“Well, I have the right to be angry.”

“No one said you didn’t, but let’s not add more fuel to the fire, okay?”

Mingyu glared at Seungcheol for the final time, before turning around and walking out of the room.

“I’m going to check up on him,” said Mingaho.

As the tension evaporated the second Mingyu left, Seungcheol could feel his anger turn to sadness and powerlessness. Now not only has he hurt you, but also his friend, who was so dear to him.

Seungcheol felt trapped, not knowing what to do next and feeling extremely mentally and emotionally drained. He sighed deeply with a blank stare, drained from all of his usual energy.

With the silence still apparent, everyone parted ways to give Seungcheol some space. Only Jeonghan and Joshua stayed by his side, not knowing what to do.

“What am I supposed to do now?” asked the oldest, with a tired voice.

“We’re all here for you, Coups and you're not alone in this. Don’t worry about Mingyu for now, he’ll come around,” said Joshua. “Take a deep breath and try to think clearly about this.”

“It's just that everything seems to be going wrong, and I feel like I have no control over it.”

“We know, but you should have just talked to them. Why didn’t you do it? Why did it have to come to this Coups?” asked Jeonghan.

“I don’t know, I really don’t. I thought I was stronger than this, that it would pass and everything would be okay. I just didn’t want to be a burden to them.”

“Well that didn’t end up too well,” said Joshua, laughing at Seungcheol’s pouting face.

“Thank you for being here for me. I really need that right now.”

“Of course! That's what family is for. But that doesn’t change the fact that we’re all so pissed at you right now,” said Jeonghan.

“Yeah, for a second there I thought Mingyu was going to punch me or something,” chuckled Sungcheol.

“I wish he did,” muttered Joshua, and walked away quickly before the oldest could respond.

“I’m going to make this right,” thought Seungcheol. “No matter what it takes.”

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chryblossomjjk · 2 years

Text

practice (pt. 2) | jjk

⇢ PAIRING: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader

⇢ RATING/GENRE: m/18+ | college au, fwb, smut, fluff, angst

⇢ WC: 8.1k

⇢ WARNINGS: implied family issues, photography major jk in full effect, casual titty sucking (lol), oral sex (f receiving), ass eating and motorboating?, handjob, unprotected sex (crowd boos and throws tomatoes), a bit of spanking, talk of sex toys, orgasm denial, forced orgasm, slight dom and sub oc, slight sub and dom jk, shower head as vibrator (everyone w a clit has done this pls-), some manhandling, anal play, shower floor sex !!!, very slight cum eating, creampie, oc reflects on how far she’s fallen, oc still hates men, maybe unrequited love, maybe not

⇢ SUMMARY: everything is wet. you and jungkook tangled up on the shower floor. your eyes afterwards.

⇢ NOTES: yOu’Re WeLcOmE rEaDeRs. this was only going to be a one shot but i was manipulated into making it a three part series bc of u all >:((! lol kidding love u babies! tbh i'm a bit disappointed with this piece. i really loved it when i outlined it but for some reason it just didn’t come together how i would’ve hoped. i tried my best guys rip. hopefully part three will be better. anyways, feedback is greatly greatly appreciated!! thank you again for all the engagement on part one if you’re new pls go read it and check out my masterlist here. ALSO HUGE THANK YOU TO MY BBY @here4btsfics FOR BETAING LEGIT COULDN'T HAVE DONE IT WITHOUT U!!

⇢ SERIES MASTERLIST

“You look miserable.”

You were miserable.

The air at the frat party was suffocating. Sweaty bodies grinding against one another, nudging your shoulder as they shimmied by. The strobe lights made your vision splotchy and the blaring speakers had your head pounding. Plus, you could already feel the makeup sinking into your pores. An oil cleanse is needed asap.

“You look like a hot mess,” you snap at the boy in front of you. His stringy bangs stick to his clammy forehead, poking out from underneath his black bucket hat. The neck of his dark gray t-shirt is stretched to one side from the pull of petite, manicured fingers. Pink lip gloss is smeared across his lips, making a glittery trail down his neck. Sore red marks already blooming. “It’s late.”

“It’s only like-” Jungkook looks at his watch. “1 a.m.”

“Yeah, late. I have a test in the morning.”

“Go home.”

That was the problem. The two only people you really knew at the party, Mina and Taehyung, snuck off into a grimy bathroom to fuck eachother’s brains out. That was an hour ago. How long could they really go at it? You explain this to Jungkook with a sigh. “If they’re not back in the next twenty minutes, I’m going to flip.”

“Don’t be a buzzkill.” Jungkook chuckles, plopping down on the brown corduroy couch next to you. A drop of alcohol spills over the edge of his red solo cup, landing right on your bare thigh. “You can’t go by yourself?”

“I’m a woman, Jungkook.”

“Ah, right,” he nods, thumb brushing away the dark liquid on your skin before putting it in his mouth. Goosebumps form instantaneously as you watch in utter shock. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Bambi, but I don’t think a dude would touch you with a ten foot pole. You’re kinda fucking scary.”

You glare at him, fluffy brows furrowed into sharp slants. Deep scowl on your shiny pout.

“See?” He laughs, tattooed digits coming up to pinch the baby fat of your cheeks. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

“No,” you huff, slapping his hand away. The subtle touch was enough to feel how surprisingly soft his skin is. “I’ll go get Mina and Taehyung-” you scoof, getting up from the tattered material under you.

“Chill.” His fingers catch the ruffled hem of your dress, knuckles brushing against the back of your thigh.

The audacity.

“Let them do their thing. I’ll take care of you.”

“Aren’t you in the middle of-” your eyes flicker over to Nayeon, who had been attached to Jungkook’s neck all night prior. She’s on the opposite side of the room, swaying back and forth, watching him cautiously. No doubt wondering if the illusive man had slipped from her grasp, onto the next girl that caught his fleeting attention. “-A thing?”

“Nayeon is cool.” He glances over his shoulder, gnawing on the silver ring on the corner of his lip. He nervously rolls the material of your dress between his thumb and index finger. Your eyes widen at the motion. Why was he being so… handsy tonight? “She’ll understand.”

Even from a distance, you can see the disappointed glint in her eyes when he explains that he’s heading out for the night.

The air outside is much nicer. The wind brushes through the cracks in the trees, kissing the leaves with a seemingly soft gust. The brunt of the blow isn’t felt until the wind is gone, and the unsuspecting leaves slowly dwindle to the ground. Confused as to how something so delicate and graceful led to their demise.

“Ugh, fuck,” Jungkook snarls, sticking out his pink tongue after taking a sip of whatever drink he had been nursing. “Shit’s like battery acid.”

You giggle, turning your head to get a better look at him. He looks so pretty in the moonlight. Even prettier than usual, you think. Your eyes dart back to the sidewalk under your feet.

“Here,” he passes the plastic cup towards you. “I can’t drink anymore.”

“Ew, I don’t want your backwash, Jeon.” You scoff, holding your balled fists to your chest in disgust.

“I’ve been known to spit in a mouth every now and then… never had any complaints.”

God, he’s so crude.

“I told you, I have a test to take.”

“Oh please,” he persists. “I take all my tests hungover.”

“What tests?” You surrender, finally accepting the poisonous drink. A quick whiff of the mysterious liquid confirms his earlier sentiments. It was most definitely battery acid. “You’re a photography major.”

“Chug! Chug! Chug!” Jungkook chants, pumping his fist in the air for emphasis.

“Stop peer pressuring me!” You say exasperatedly, words riddled with broken laughter. He’s so insufferably annoying but… weirdly adorable.

He continues, shouting louder until you down the drink in one big gulp, gagging at the putrid aftertaste. He cheers, no concern for the sleeping students who can surely hear his booming voice through their thin dormitory walls.

“I’m a bad influence on you. You’re turning into me.”

“You wish.”

“Not Bambi anymore, hm?” He takes his hat off, ruffling his hair before plopping it onto your head. “Gonna have to call you my baby.”

The breeze does nothing to ease the burning in your cheeks. “You’re an idiot, Jungkook.”

“Oh God… you sound like my parents,” he laughs. It wasn’t the one you had become accustomed to throughout your brief friendship. The high-pitched infectious one that always coaxed a similar sound out of you.

This laugh was sarcastic. Devoid of joy.

“I’m so drunk that you look like ‘em too.”

You glance up from the crushed cup. He looks… sad. You’ve never seen Jungkook sad, or even serious for that matter. His lips are pulled into a tight line, chin covered little dents as he tries to contain his emotions.

Whatever he was feeling, you never want him to feel it again.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s nothing,” he shakes his head, back pressing against the entrance of your building, prepared to push it open for you.

“It doesn’t sound like nothing,” you frown, halting your steps. You can’t leave until that heart wrenching expression stops tainting his features.

“My parents are like… old school,” he shrugs, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “I was so sheltered growing up. I feel like I missed out on a lot and I just… they wanted me to go to law school. Can you believe that? Me? A lawyer?”

Jungkook was a person you never expected to relate to. Sure, you were casual friends, but you chalk that up to circumstance. He just so happened to be a friend of your roommate’s boyfriend. Your interactions up until this point had been playful banter. Nothing incredibly deep.

Honestly, you didn’t even think he was capable of complex emotions.

You feel guilty about that now.

“They sound like mine,” you admit. “They completely tie my worth to my academic success.”

“But you’re good at that. Thinking.” His fingers tap against his temple before rubbing in soothing circles, trying to coax the cogs in his skull to spin. “You’re the most intelligent person I know and I’m not just saying that because I like you.”

“Thank you,” you peep. You’ve always suspected that Jungkook secretly hated you.

Hate is a strong word and you’re very dramatic.

But nothing about your lifestyles are parallel. They’re perpendicular, moving in two completely separate directions. Only crossing paths every now and then.

Too different and incompatible.

“My brain doesn’t work like that- watch your step,” he warns, pointing at a divet between the concrete and tile as you finally step inside.

“I don’t like to think. I like to see. I’m a visual person.” He’s talking with so much passion, hands moving about to show you what his words couldn’t. You watch in awe.

“They don’t get that. Like when I got these,” he holds his inked arm out for your viewing pleasures. “My dad bugged out. ‘You’ll never get a good job with those doodles on your arm.’”

His tone was so exaggerated that you couldn’t help but giggle, shoulder knocking against his as you walked. He laughs too.

“I don’t really give a shit about the future. I care about now. I want to experience everything I can, right now. To me, life is about living in the moment. Photography is literally like-” his eyes squint, darting around the hallway as he looks for the right words. “Like- snapshots of the present.”

He got so carried away that he didn’t realize you had reached your destination. You blink at him.

“I’m sorry.” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That was stupid,”

“No!” You lower your voice immediately, embarrassed at your sudden outburst. “I actually…” You pause, contemplating your next words.

“I wish I was m-”

“I want to be-”

You both pause this time. Jungkook nods his head towards you, giving you the green light to speak first.

“In some ways, I wish I was more like you.”

“Yeah.” He hums with a soft smile, leaning against your doorframe. So delicate and graceful. “I was gonna say the same thing.”

You gulp, completely and utterly rattled. Your shaky hands fiddle with your keys, struggling to fit them into the lock.

Why are you so nervous all of a sudden? It’s just Jungkook.

He laughs, steadying your jittery hand with his own and helping you slot the metal in.

“Thank you for walking me home,” you say meekly, avoiding eye contact as you enter the dark room. “For what it’s worth… I think your tattoos are really cool.”

“And I think you’re really cute when you’re flustered,” he smirks, backing away from the doorway and waving at you. “Goodnight, Bambi.”

Much to your dismay, the compliment makes your cheeks heat up.

“Jungkook, wait! Your hat!”

“Nah, keep it!” He shouts down the hallway. “It looks better on you anyway!”

“Jungkook, stop,” you whine, back arching off your white cotton duvet. The soft tongue twisting around your nipple makes it incredibly difficult to focus on your cracked phone screen. “This episode is important. We meet Sailor Mars.”

“Sorry, Bambi,” He grunts, wet mouth reluctantly popping off your stiff bud. “Got distracted.”

It’s been a little under two month of this. Of you and him.

Having sex, exchanging sweet words and touches, going back to just friends. Rinse and repeat.

Blissful peaks and exhausting valleys. A rollercoaster of emotions with no logical endpoint in sight. You tried not to think about that part often though.

It was easy to distract yourself from the truth when Jungkook brought you lunch during the gap in his classes, or when he agreed to watch Sailor Moon in its entirety without much pushing. Atleast you could pretend he was yours in those little moments of affection.

You huff, pulling the crumpled t-shirt, his t-shirt, back over your chest. Your heart was still pounding from your last round an hour or so ago, and him casually sucking on your nipple while streaming a cartoon didn’t help.

“She’s your favorite?” He questions, propping his head up on the heel of his hand as he lays on his side. You nod, gaze flickering over to him. His previous activities had made his teddy bear headband slouch forward. You use one of the plush brown ears to pull it back into place.

Although sweet and attentive, Jungkook wasn’t immune to the innate disadvantages that came with being a man.

Like not knowing how to wash his face properly.

You watched in horror a couple weeks ago as scrubbed his face in your bathroom sink. Bangs and all. An order for a cute bear headband, the same brand as your kitty ones, was placed immediately. The way he smiled when you gave it to him would forever be burned into your memory.

“Makes sense,” he hums. “Mars is the planet of war.”

You side-eye him, knowing exactly what he was implying with that snide comment. “Just watch the show, Jeon.”

“I am.” His wavering attention turns back to your phone. “I love 90's animation. It was basically all done by hand, see?” He points at the scene behind Usagi; a blue watercolor sky fading into a baby pink. Clearly hand drawn. It was a detail you never noticed before.

“And the saturation is higher so the colors look brighter.”

“Your major is showing,” you say, using an eye roll to suppress the smile dancing on your lips. You don’t want to disturb the hydrating sheet mask on your face, resting in just the right position. You also don’t want to clue him in on how cute you find his artistic rambles.

“Speaking of that,” he laughs, resting his cheek against your chest, unable to stay in one position for too long. He’s like that in the bedroom too. You sigh as dry bits of his face mask crumble off his temple and onto the black fabric. Baby steps. “You’re still coming to the showcase, right?

Jungkook’s big end-of-semester project was to create a photography portfolio on a topic of his choosing. There was going to be a cute little gallery event to display the work of him and his classmates. It was hard not to get your hopes up when he invited you.

That was a sign that maybe, just maybe, the feeling was mutual. Right?

“Right,” you answer him curtly. “Now tell me what topic you picked, demon.”

“Nah, you’ll have to be a good girl and wait,” he grins teasingly, lifting up to steal an airy peck. “Besides, I need to get one more sho-”

Ding.

“Thank fuck!” He groans, springing up at the sound of your timer. “This feels like sandpaper. What the fuck are you doing to my face?”

“Oh, don’t be a baby,” you scold, pressing pause and tossing your phone onto your bed. He’d have to meet your favorite character some other time, clearly too distracted and antsy tonight to focus.

“Bambi,” he says indignantly, pointing straight ahead at Mina’s floor mirror with wide doe eyes. His skin is cracked and painted gray. The reflection is startling to the skincare newbie. “Look at how dry this shit is!”

“Jungkook, it’s supposed to look like that. It’s a clay mask.” You laugh, peeling your more gentle one off and tossing it into the little trash bin near your nightstand. “You have oily skin, so it’ll help clear out your pores and reduce excess sebum production.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” he laughs, climbing out of bed and rolling his shoulders, arms numb from laying down too long. He’s topless. You can’t help but eye the way his back muscles pop out with every circular motion.

How yummy.

“Do you mind if I hop in the shower?”

He doesn’t need to ask. Jungkook has become a permanent fixture in your dorm, like the color pink or your twin bed. Whenever Mina is gone, he’s there.

His presence is also similar to your bed in the sense that it doesn’t extend past the four walls of your room and mind.

A bed is warm, though. Comforting. And you long for it when you’re not in it.

That longing leads your wandering feet into the steamy bathroom.

“Jungkook,” you peep softly, knocking gently on the glass door before sliding it open. “Can I join you?”

The unexpected noise makes him jump, a large palm hitting his bare chest with a wet smack. Once his mind registers the sound as your voice though, his body language softens. Your voice so sweet and melodic in his ears. “I would never turn down an opportunity to see your tits. Wet.”

‘You could see them more often if you just fell in love with me already,’ you think to yourself, peeling off your cherry-printed thong and oversized shirt before stepping into the warm shower.

He looks so dreamy in the sauna of your shower.

Your pupils pause when they land on the unbelievably minuscule nipples that you always tease him for. His cheeks and chest are a soft baby pink. Your favorite color. Whether it’s from the scalding water or him nailing you into the rickety mattress earlier, you can’t tell. All the fog makes him look even more heavenly than usual, like an angel descending from the clouds.

You’re down bad.

There’s a speck of clay still on his chin, covering that little brown freckle you love so much. You cup the side of his face, thumb swiping away the leftover mask. He leans into your palms, lips chasing your finger to press a soft kiss on the pad of it.

Why must he make things so difficult for you?

“I got it,” he mumbles, snatching the pink face cloth from your hand and reaching for what his peanut brain thinks is body wash.

“Jungkook, that’s shampoo.”

“What? No way,” he shakes his head confidently, picking up the slippery green bottle and reading the label with squinted eyes.

You were right, of course.

“Oh, I fucked up then” He smells like lavender and mint. The scent fills your nostrils when he grabs the actual body wash from the bamboo wall shelf, suctioned to the tile near your head. It's the same fragrance of your very fancy, very expensive, shampoo.

You glance at the bottle. It’s nearly empty.

“Jungkook! You’re such an idiot!”

“It’s not that deep, Bambi. Relax,” he chuckles nonchalantly.

“It’s not funny!” Read the shower, Jeon. Haircare is no laughing matter. You cross your arms over your chest, titty-viewing privileges revoked until further notice. “That stuff is expensive, Jungkook. It’s Paul Mitchell...”

“Not Paul Mitchell,” he humors you, bottom lip jutting out dramatically. His shiny silver lip ring and eyebrow piercing do nothing to aid his faux innocence. “I’ll buy you another bottle, I promise. I used it because it reminds me of you. Smells so good.”

Jungkook squeezes the soap onto the pink cloth before running it over your body, lathering the vanilla-scented bubbles on your skin. Hands caressing every part of you so gently, as if you’re the most fragile thing he’s ever dealt with. Afraid to break you in his careless and clumsy palms.

He’s cleaning you so tenderly that it makes your lovesick heart pound.

He’s diligent too, squatting down awkwardly to wash your manicured toes, balancing your foot on top of his knee. He lets out an airy laugh when your foot jerks under his sneaky tickling fingers.

Even on your most intimate parts, his touch stays pure and delicate. He cups your breasts, cleaning under them and around them. The damp cotton barely ghosts over your nipples. He’s never been shy to pinch, suck, or even bite them before. It doesn’t feel right to him in this context though. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfy or ruin the moment by doing or saying something dirty.

Sometimes, Jungkook makes you feel so… important. So cared for.

You cling to him when he washes your back, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling your face into the solid surface of his chest. You stay like that for a moment. Holding eachother under the warm stream of the shower. Savoring it while he’s still with you like this.

Blissful peaks.

The gentle swirls and shapes he draws against your skin lulls you into a trance. All you can hear is his heart beating.

It’s so close but so out of reach.

You count the seconds between the faint thumps. So distracted and content that your ears block out the sharp sounds of water hitting tile. All you hear is him.

Jungkook. Jungkook. Jungkook.

A quick swat to your ass brings you back to reality.

You peep out a small moan, jolting forward from the impact.

“You like when I do that,” he deduces, the corner of his lip pulling into a crooked smirk as he massages your stinging behind. “When I have my way with you. Don’t you, Bambi?”

You nod, cheek still smushed into his wet chest. How humiliating.

“You’re a lot more submissive than I thought you’d be.”

“You thought about me before we started hooking up?” You counter, voice taking on a teasing tone to hide the flutter in your chest. He wanted you too. The thought was reassuring.

“Mm, maybe.” His hardening cock, brushing right against your inner thigh, tells you the answer. “The version of you in my head was confident, though. Knew what she wanted and took it.”

He whispers the last part, gaze floating down to your lips and licking his bottom one in preparation. The telltale signs of an incoming smooch. You close your eyes, expecting a sweet kiss-

“I get that you’re still learning how to fuck,” he shrugs. “So no biggie.”

Asshole. He's taunting you.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s not a bad thing…” he coos, patronizingly. “Just the Bambi I know would never let a man tell her what to do.”

Any implication of you being compliant and passive, especially to a male counterpart, would normally send you into a rampage. He never understood how someone so kind could also be so viscous. When angry, you were comparable to a fire-breathing dragon, destroying villages and burning people alive with your blazing articulate tongue. Jungkook would never tell you that though, lest you think he was calling you ugly and reptilian.

That couldn’t be further from the truth, because he found it so fucking sexy when you were mad. And the bubbles of irritation were already brewing in your stomach.

You’re falling right into his trap.

“I don’t,” you argue through gritted teeth. “And I always take what I want.”

“That’s not true,” Jungkook tutts his tongue at you. “You want me so bad and you haven’t done anything about it.”

Your heart drops. Is it that obvious you have a big fat crush on him?

“Why don’t you show me a little bit, then?” He huffs, voice pleading and whiny. He grabs your hand and guides it around his semi-hard member, engulfing your’s in his tattooed one. “Touch me how you want.”

Oh, he meant sexually. You let out a sigh of relief.

Even partially soft, his cock feels heavy in your hand. Your fingertips barely meet around the shaft, pink mushroom tip poking out of your tiny fist. Two months. Two months of seeing his cock every three to five business days, and you’re still intimidated by the sheer size of him. How could you not be? He was massive.

He knocks his wet forehead against yours. His gaze is trained on his growing cock, tongue fiddling with his lip ring as he focuses. So visual.

Hm. It could be fun to take control. Especially when he was practically begging for it.

Jungkook prefers to be the pleasing partner. Foreplay usually consists of him licking and touching every square inch of you until you’re squirming. You’ve never seen him so needy and desperate before.

Most dicks were ugly. Monstrous even. In the flesh, you’ve seen a whopping total of three penises throughout your lifetime, Jungkook’s included. A small sample size for your age. But you’ve watched enough porn to know that they were anything but aesthetically pleasing.

You’ve always been drawn to the finer, pretty things in life.

And his is so so pretty.

It’s not overly vascular. The veins running along his shaft are subtle, you can only feel them when you give him a hard tug. His skin is smooth and supple. Pelvis clean-shaven. Despite his little skincare mishaps, you can know he takes good care of himself. It’s a quality you found extremely attractive.

Languidly stroking up, you twist your wrist over the swollen tip. Your grip isn’t as tight as he likes and you know it, purposely dragging over the upward curve with an unbearably loose fist. The running water makes the glide easy as you pump him languidly, stopping at the crown and squeezing to give him a little relief.

He peeps out a dreamy sigh when a pearl of dew leaks out of the slit. You coo at the sight, using your thumb to smear the wetness around his sensitive head.

A dirty Jungkook-type thought pops into your head.

“Put it in your mouth,” you command, holding your glistening digit in front of his big nose.

He hesitates for a moment. It’s fair. You were literally asking him to taste his own precum. His black pupils dart to your thumb, over to your face, and then back to your thumb.

Has he never done this before?

He’s apprehensive, but fiercely competitive to the core. Never one to turn down a challenge. You’ve known that since you met him, when he nearly had a meltdown over losing a simple game of beer pong.

He takes the pad of your thumb into his pink pucker, sucking on it like a sugary lollipop. His lustful eyes lock onto yours when his tongue just barely grazes over your skin. They’re pleading, so desperate for your approval.

“Good boy… now spit.”

You feel his cock twitch against your stomach, wet tip leaving a sticky trail to your belly button. He obliges, letting a string of spit land in your palm. You hum contently, wrapping your hand around his shaft again. Coating him in his own saliva.

“I love that,” he moans out, voice so turned on that you have to clench your thighs together for friction. They’re already clammy with arousal.

“Love what?” You tease. “Praise or my hand?”

“Both,” he admits with no hesitation, hips recoiling and subtly thrusting into your palm. He slicks back his bothersome bangs to get a better view.

He looks so good with his forehead out.

“Does that feel good?”

He nods halfheartedly, tunnel-visioned in on the way you’re just fucking milking him. The nasty wet clicking noises filling the air only make his impending orgasm build up quicker. Jungkook has always prided himself on his stamina, but he’s already feeling that overwhelming pooling in his balls.

“Are you gonna cum?”

“Yeah, Bambi...” He sighs, mouth dropping when he’s done speaking. Thick brows knitting together. Face contorting in the way it always does when he’s about to bust.

You tug him hard and fast until he’s teetering on the point of no return-

And then you stop.

The muscles at the base of his cock contract and expand, making it bounce up against his pelvis. The creamy skin at the base transitions into a vibrant flush at the tip. So swollen and angry. So ready to cum.

“Fuck!” He shouts, slamming the side of his fist against the tile wall, snarled teeth look too ferocious to be bunny-like. The hooded gaze he shoots you is scary, even angrier than his cock.

It looks painful.

You feel bad, truly.

But it was a small glimpse of the pain you felt when he blue-balled your love and affection.

“I cum first,” you taunt with a smirk, pressing a gentle peck on his lips. He doesn’t reciprocate, pout cemented in a firm straight line. “Then you.”

His tattooed knuckles sneak under your wet hair, curling around the back of your neck. The other is grips on your shoulder, trimmed nails digging into the delicate skin as he shoves you forward. You gasp, bouncing breasts squished against the shower door, cool slippery glass brushing against sensitive nipples.

Jungkook usually takes the lead during sex, gently coaching you through the motions until you’re both silly-smiled and starry-eyed in post orgasm bliss. You’ve never seen him so domineering. A sharp juxtaposition to the whiny boy who was desperately seeking words of affirmation a few minutes ago.

His duality has you embarrassingly wet.

“I’m sorry,” he grunts, nuzzling into your shoulder and placing a few gentle, apologetic pecks on your skin. “I don’t mean to be so abrasive.”

Abrasive.

That was a big word, for him atleast. His vocabulary has expanded a bit. The thought makes you gleam.

“You’re just-” The words are broken off by an airy chuckle. “I’m so fucked.”

There’s no time for you to mull over the hidden meanings of his words. He nudges your legs apart with his knee, muscular thigh pressing right into your sopping sex. You moan at the contact, grinding down on it until it’s rudely snatched away.

“Isn’t someone greedy?” His voice is muffled, lips preoccupied with kissing a messy trail down your spine before dropping to his knees behind you. Right on the shower floor. “You’ve already cum. Twice.”

You had sex just a few hours. And he did indeed, make you cum twice. Once on his fingers and once around his cock.

It wasn't enough, though. Never enough with him.

“Want more...”

“I know you do, just…” His words dissipate when spreads one cheek to the side, distracted by the mesmorising sight of your glistening slit and puckering hole. “Stay still. Let me look at you.”

The lack of sensory information has you on edge. From your position, you can’t see him. Only catching blurry glimpses of a tattooed arm when it extends into your field of vision. It’s hard to hear the nasty declarations that pour out of his mouth over the pitter-patter of water. There’s no perceptible clues that help you predict his next movements. You have to wait until you feel them.

His big hands knead your skin, making the fatty parts jiggle with his thumbs resting under each cheek. “Wow…” he peeps in admiration before shoving his entire face in your ass, vigorously shaking his head side to side.

He’s so lewd.

You squeak when his sneaky tongue pokes out.

“No…”

“Why?”

“That’s so… dirty.” You don’t mean you, of course. Even in the drunkest of states, you could execute a ten step skincare routine flawlessly, facial rollers and all. You were referring to the act.

“I mean… we’re kinda past that, don’t you think?”

You hum a contemplative noise. He had a point.

“Don’t you like it, baby?” A soft kiss is placed against the cinched muscle. “When I play with you like this?”

Baby.

He hasn’t called you that since he walked you home from the party. Your stomach somersaults.

“I love it,” you confess with a sigh.

“Then why is it dirty? I’m just making you feel good, aren’t I?” He coos, placing the pad of his thumb on the untouched area. There’s no pressure behind it, just light strokes around the rim. “I can make you feel so good, if you just let me do what I want.”

What he’s implying is nerve-wracking. Anal play was something you never even considered dabbling in.

“I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

You trust him and you’re consumed by lust, so you give a small nod.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“Do whatever you want, Koo… anything.”

There’s a sharp exhale and then soft fingers massaging tight circles on your clit. You relax into the touch. A tried and true method of making you feel good, and hopefully, ease you into the uncharted waters with little tension. Jungkook lets a string of spit fall between your cheeks, knowing you’ll need the extra lubrication.

“Fu- hmm,” you hum through curled lips when his thick thumb slowly prods in, only up to the first knuckle. It’s not as painful as you expected. A little strange and unfamiliar, but the stretch was oddly pleasurable. “S’ good.”

“No one has ever been in here before, right? Only me?”

“Only you.” You mewl, grinding back into his hand. The confession makes him moan. The thought of defiling you, ruining you, does things to him and to his leaking cock.

“Maybe if you’re good, I’ll get you a butt plug.” He pauses, before adding an afterthought. “A small one with a pink gem.”

You don’t respond, enjoying the feeling of his hand too much to speak.

“Yeah,” he hums to himself. “Gonna double dip you one of these days.”

“Koo,” you whine. “Please do something.”

He can’t deny you. Not when there’s those dreamy, desperate hues in your voice. Jungkook spins, sitting on the ground before shuffling backwards until his back is against the shower door. Positioned directly between your legs. Right under your leaking cunt.

“Ride my face,” he whimpers. “Please…”

In your limited experience, and via the data you’ve collected from third-party sources (Mina), guys only ever beg to receive oral sex.

But Jungkook is different. Here he was, fully prepared to devour your pussy like it’s his last meal on death row.

Hopefully the crime committed isn’t breaking your heart.

“Jungkook, you don’t- fuck!” His mouth is on you before you can even finish the sentence. Toned arm wrapped around your thigh, pulling you down onto his thirsty tongue like you’re a refreshing drink on a hot summer day.

The cool metal of his lip ring brushing against your outer lips as he delivered long unhurried licks between them, had your thighs trembling. You were so worked up and he’s barely even touched you.

The position is great, amazing even, but it’s hard to hold him like you want. You twist awkwardly reaching behind you and letting your fingers trace the outline of his sharp jaw. You can literally feel his tongue working under the skin, collecting as much of your sweet dew as possible before swallowing it in big gulps.

The combination of your juices and the running water makes Jungkook-

“Feel like I'm drowning,” he laughs, sending hot breaths into your core.

You peep an apology before standing on your toes, trying to create some breathing room.

“I didn’t tell you to stop.” His free hand grabs your ass, fingertips digging into the plush surface as he pulls you back down. The motion makes his large nose brush against your clit, bulbous tip sneaking under the hood, tickling your most sensitive spot.

“Fuck, baby.” you whine, already feeling a sticky hot climax approaching.

“Don’t be shy.” The thick thumb, still hooked inside of you, begins rocking back and forth, moving your hips in tandem. Encouraging you to grind onto his face. “Use me.”

Despite the assertive facade, you were deeply insecure. You’ve never felt more liberated, more comfortable, than when Jungkook’s hands were on you, though. Caressing every undesirable part of you. Touching you in ways that made you swoon. Completely worshiping you.

With that in mind, you build up the courage to move freely. Humping his face like you do your pillow when you’re alone and needy for him.

You find yourself saying this often with Jungkook, but you’ve never felt so good.

There’s little muffled moans under the sound of the shower. Between the wet strands of hair, you can see his thick brows pulled in at the middle. Features contorted to form that cute little yummy face he makes every time he eats good food. Or in this case, your pussy.

You giggle deliriously, gently pushing back his wet tresses. They’re silky and pliant from your conditioner. Your thumb smoothes over one of his brows in an attempt to tame the angry arch. Afraid to hurt him, you stop immediately when you feel his piercing.

The look he gives you when he peers up at you sends you spiraling. There’s something so raw behind his eyes.

It almost looks like…

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You shout when your orgasm washes over you, hips jerking wildly and uncontrollably. Powerful waves of pleasure run through you. One after the other in rapid succession, leaving your legs shaking and your petite fingers clawing at his scalp.

He doesn’t stop until you make him, with a fistful of hair and a rough yank. Wet lips smacking together as he coos, taking in the sight of the overstimulated body before him. You feel empty when he removes his thumb from your sore hole and climbs to his feet.

“Your mouth,” you whine. “It’s too much.”

“I know,” he hums in agreement, hugging you from behind before continuing with an airy chuckle. “Nayeon told me that I have an oral fixation.”

Nayeon.

Your heart drops at the mention of her name.

Why was he thinking about Nayeon? Especially now, when he was being intimate with you-

‘Don’t overthink it,’ you tell yourself. It was probably just a flippant comment he made without thinking…

“Oh no,” Jungkook groans dramatically, tattooed hand scrubbing over his face in frustration.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, craning your neck to look at him.

“I only brought one condom,” he says in distraught, emphasizing the one like it was the biggest mistake of his life. “And we already used it.”

Hm. Now seems like a good time to ask him the question you’ve been avoiding for weeks.

“Are you sleeping with anyone else?”

An eerie pause fills the air. You don’t like the way he hesitates.

“No… I always use protection anyways… and I just got tested last week.”

You don’t like the way he answers. Almost like he didn’t want to lie, but he didn’t necessarily want to admit the truth either.

You don’t push the matter further. You're afraid that if you do, he’ll drift away. Float onto the next shiny, less complicated, thing that catches his wandering eyes.

“It’s okay. Just fuck me, Jungkook.”

“Are you sure?” He looks at you with wide, sparkly eyes. They appear almost animated, hand drawn in the same style as your favorite cartoon. “We don’t have to. I would never-”

“I want to.”

You just want him.

“Are you on the pill?”

“Mhm.”

He exhales a sigh of relief, head dropping to thank whatever higher power exists for making this happen. The stars aligned to make this happen. He gets to fuck you now. Raw.

When his hands land on your ass, they’re shaky and unorganized. You can’t tell if it’s from adrenal of excitement. His cock is at the perfect angle to slot between your cheeks without the help of his hands. Jungkook pushes them together, rutting his hips into the tight squeeze, moaning softly when his pink tip pokes out at the top.

“No more teasing,” you huff with a pout.

“Put me in then, sweetheart.”

Another term of endearment. You wonder if he’s doing it on purpose. If he knows how you feel about him and is levying that affection against you. Using sweet words to lull you into any situation of his choosing.

You sigh, reaching between your legs. His couch is so touch-starved from the foreplay, the orgasm you denied him, that the contact makes it jump. You rub the engorged head over your clit, flicking it up and down over the swollen nub.

“Thought you said no teasing.” He gruffs, strained and fucked out.

You nod in response, licking your lips as you guide him to your entrance. His heart beating so sternly in his chest that you can feel his pulse in the crown of his cock. So turned out and it’s all because of you.

Your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape when he slides in slowly. You’re both so wet from the shower and your own arousals, that there’s barely any resistance. Just a smooth glide until he’s buried to the hilt. Hushed, needy gasps escaping from both of you.

“Ah- fuck,” he grunts, hips jolting forward even though there’s no more length to give, pelvis mushing into you. You have to brace yourself with flat palms to prevent your head from knocking into the glass. “I’m in love with this pussy…”

The sweet, filthy words make you clench around him.

Jungkook watches with parted lips as he pulls out. Top lip twitching in a snarl when he sees how creamy and shiny you made his cock. You always do, but this is the first time he’s actually witnessing it, feeling it, without any barrier.

“My favorite pussy…” he whispers, gripping your waist as leverage before he starts pounding into you. Closing his eyes to focus on his rhythm, savoring the way your warm, wet, natural ridges feel on his cock

Even from behind, his curve does wonders on your g-spot. The smooth underside deliciously strokes that sweet spot with every deep plunge. Your breasts bounce when his hips crash into yours, making the very tips of your nipples teasingly brushing against the wet glass. The coolness sends tingles through your burning skin.

“When can I really play with you?” He pants. “Use my vibrator until you’re cumming buckets, huh?”

“Whenever we stay at yours…”

He doesn’t respond, leveling you with a simple hum instead.

“Nah, I prefer going to the girl’s place-” Jungkook had slurred to Taehyung, projecting his voice over the static of the party. Loud enough for your unsuspecting ears to pick up the sound. “I feel bad for asking them to leave after, so it just makes things easier.”

That was before you started hooking up, but the memory still stings.

A lightbulb turns on Jungkook’s brain as he watches the running water hit your back. He reaches for the shower head, clicking the silver lever three notches to the left. Jet mode.

The ugliest sob rips though your chest when he places it directly on your clit.

“Jungkook!” The stream is so powerful that it sends you into a panic. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t!”

“Yes, you can,” his lips are smushed to your temple, trying to shush your cries. “Gotta practice for the Hitachi, don’t you baby?”

The constant stimulation from the water and his cock makes your orgasm build up much quicker than anticipated. There’s wetness on your cheeks. It's not from the splashing water pummeling directly into your clit. You feel so euphoric and overstimulated that you’re crying. There’s nothing you can do to stop the unbearable pleasure that’s coursing through your veins.

You nearly blackout when you cum. Vision blurry. Hearing fading in and out. Legs giving out underneath you. Jungkook has to catch you, abruptly dropping the shower head to wrap his big arms around your waist before you plummet to the ground in bliss.

When you can support yourself again, he hangs up the forgotten metal, maneuvering you around until you’re facing him. He picks you up with an inked arm hooked under your thighs, free hand grazing over your back in soothing circles.

“I didn’t push you too far, did I?” He asks worriedly.

You shake your head. He did, but you absolutely loved it. You peep when you feel the tip of his cook, still achingly hard, against your backside. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry.”

“No,” you protest. “Want you to cum too.”

He looks at you, gnawing on his bottom lip like he’s contemplating something. “I’ll be quick.”

Jungkook lays you down on the shower floor gently, the same way he does on your twin bed. A grimace laces through your features. Over the last month, you’ve been swamped with homework, putting a wedge in your normal routine. The last time you cleaned out the shower was two whole weeks ago.

Disgusting.

All complaints are forgotten when he’s inside of you, though. You would brace the bacteria and germs to have Jungkook between your legs.

“You’re so pretty,” he huffs, admiring the way your hair fans out across the white porcelain. Leaning forward, Jungkook presses his entire weight on top of you, nuzzling his head into your shoulder. There’s a gust of wind on your shoulder as he breathes in your scent.

The whole atmosphere feels different.

The slow sensual grind of his hips makes you dizzy. You swear you’re hallucinating when you feel his hands graze up your arms, fingers interlocking with yours.

“Look at me.”

You crane your neck, wide eyes meeting his hooded ones. You breath hitches in your throat when you take in his expression. He’s looking at you the same way he did earlier.

If you didn’t know better, you would say he’s looking at you like he’s in love with you.

“I’m close,” he whispers, nudging his forehead against yours. He kisses you so delicately. There’s no heady teeth or rushed tongues. Just a sweet, soft kiss. “Where do you want it?”

“Inside.”

When he cums, it’s gentle and low. His hips never falter from their slow pace like they usually do when he climaxes. He doesn’t moan lewdly or say anything dirty. He just stays clung to you, panting softly until he rides out his high.

You feel so warm and happy when he fills you up.

He stays on top of you while he catches his breath. You don’t mind, petite hands scratching over his back. Listening to the calming, rain-like sounds of the shower.

“Do you want to go to bed?” You peep after a few minutes.

“I can’t sleepover tonight, Bambi,” he coos, sitting back on his knees. You feel empty when he pulls out. “I have a test tomorrow.”

“Oh… well, you’re still coming over tomorrow, right? So can we finish the season?” You question, recalling the pinky promise he made you last week.

“Raincheck,” he pouts. “I have something to do for one of my classes.”

You follow him to the door once you’re both dried off and dressed.

“Goodnight,” he places a dramatic kiss on the top of your head, pulling away with a little ‘muah’ sound. Something in the corner of your room catches his eye before he leaves. “Did you steal my hat?”

Your eyes follow his finger, pointing straight to the black bucket hat on your desk.

“You gave it to me.”

“I did?” He looks at you in confusion. “I don’t remember that.”

“Fuck off,” you groan, cocooning your blanket over your disturbed ears. You wanted nothing more than to rewatch Sailor Moon and mope, but the fireworks would not fucking stop. Where is campus police? And why are they letting dumb frat boys light off explosives?

You sigh, watching Usagi and Rei fight over Tuxedo Mask again. You know what the outcome will be. The thought of your favorite character falling victim to the unforgiving strain of unrequited love makes your heart hurt.

You tilt your head. Tuxedo Mask kinda looks like someone you know.

The show was supposed to be distracting, make you forget the fact that you got stood up but a guy you’ve been crushing on for months. But even your alone time has become daunting. Consumed by him. Everything reminds you of Jungkook.

Jungkook. Jungkook. Jungkook.

You sigh, closing out the app in favor of scrolling through Instagram. The first picture you see on your feed is of Nayeon. Just your luck.

It was posted two minutes ago. You recognize the ugly brown couch in the background. She’s clearly at a party, form-fitting black mini dress complimenting her figure perfectly.

Your self-loathing mind guides your self-loathing fingers to zoom in on every little detail and compare yourself to her. Pretty hair. Perfect makeup. Tiny waist that curves out into her full hips. Long legs. Jungkook. Straight, pearly white teeth. Nice jawline-

Jungkook?

You do a double take, eyes scanning the photo until they land on him again. He’s lingering in the background, back against the wall, looking down at his phone. You stay zoomed in on him for a while, staring at your phone screen until your vision goes blurry.

Every doubt and insecurity you’ve harbored over the last few months hits you in a drowning, suffocating wave.

Exhausting valleys.

Why did you even agree to this? This stupid friends with benefits relationship.

You knew you would get hurt, but you didn’t think it would hurt this bad. Not only did he lie to you, he was with Nayeon.

Nayeon. You can’t fucking stand her-

You shake your head furiously and throw your phone to the foot of your bed.

You don’t mean that…

Since when were you the type to hate another woman over a dumb guy? Or have unprotected sex? Or let someone so careless and selfish infiltrate your heart and mind?

How could you compare yourself to Nayeon when you two are in the exact same position?

You think about the night you fell for him, when he walked you home in the moonlight. She must have felt the same you do now. You’re similar in your desire to be with him, knowing you'll get hurt in the end.

Because being with Jungkook for a little while was better than not being with him at all.

It’s his eyes. They’re dark but so tender. The way they look at you like you’re the only thing that matters. The way they glow when he talks about things that interest him. Or how they dart up towards his forehead when he can’t find the right words to say-

“__?” Mina calls, standing in the doorway with a takeout bag. You hadn’t even noticed her come in. “Why are you crying?”

“Huh?” You peep, eyes fluttering down to the little wet spots on your blanket.

Without even realizing it, you had grown to love Jungkook so much.

You spent the rest of the night sobbing in Mina’s arms.

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jeon jungkook #btshoneyhive #btswritingcafe #bts #bts smut #jungkook drabble #bts x reader #jungkook x you #bts jungkook #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook angst #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic

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bigfatbimbo · 26 days

Note

I am haunted by visions of Vox with a capable assistant who doms him after hours. The role reversal of guy thinking he can fuck his secretary but she turns the tables and fucks him has me sweating

I got inspired by a turn of phrase that would might have been popular a little bit before Vox’s time “his girl, Friday”

Basically a “girl Friday” was a term used for a woman in the office who acted as a jack of all trades and was good at doing a bunch of different jobs. This person was usually very capable and the office’s go-to-girl for anything and everything

So I keep imagining Vox with this hyper-competent assistant. He hires her and after becoming familiar with the company, she manages to handle things before he even asks her to do them. He decides to try and rattle her a bit with impossible tasks to knock her down a peg, but she takes that as a challenge and somehow completes them with a smarmy “will that be all,sir”

Game on. He keeps challenging her and asking for crazier shit just to prove that she can be shaken. She doesn’t even flinch, it’s a little intimidating and bruises his ego

Eventually he’s working late (which means she’s working late because somehow their work ethics are equally insane) and he starts being all snide and pissy and she just puts him in his place, insulting his behavior and his temper and physically backs him into his desk before telling him that he needs to be taught proper manners

And from then on, by day she’s Vox’s right hand who never leaves his side. But by night she bends her boss over his desk or presses him into his office chair, making him whimper and moan as she teaches him a lesson and berates him

So yeah, boss tries to dominate assistant but she effortlessly reverses their roles and makes him cry “Yes, ma’am!”

People think he’s tapping his assistant but whenever comments are made they share a look and Vox just thinks “they can’t ever know that I call you Mommy”

So the other day, I posted about wanting to do a human Vox au but lacking ideas, and one of the comments was involving an assistant x boss type deal. I don’t know if this ask is unrelated or directly caused by that post, but it gives me lots of ideas for a more specific au involving human Vox.

Anyways, since it wasn’t specified, i’ll keep the alive or dead details pretty vague. When I tell you this idea has been rotting in my brain all day, I fucking mean it.

Like this is genuinely about to get me out of writers block oh my fucking god. “His girl, friday” is a term i’ve never heard before but it’s so fitting with this. I love the go-getter incredibly efficient reader so much.

And god, it would bother Vox to an ungodly point. Because being in close quarters a lot, you being his assistant, of course he picks up on your efficiency. It makes him a little insecure because you honestly get things done quicker than he could.

So after throwing everything he can at you to knock you overboard your parade of orderliness, and you doing it all absolutely flawlessly, he can’t help but throw one of his tantrums.

Coming to him at the the end of the day, explaining you did everything he’d asked, and went beyond, closed multiple business deals for him, and got the inside information on upcoming possible marketing events. He should be happy, this objectively helps his business. But instead, he sits at his desk, watching you from across the room, before absolutely exploding.

I mean, you do his jobs better than he does. And he goes on a huge rant about how he doesn’t believe this, and how you must have absolutely no life, and basically degrading and insulting you for doing your job correctly.

And then yes, you yell at him, practically daring him to fire you. He won’t, you’re too much of an asset. You’re basically untouchable. So with that, you yell back, but unlike Vox who erupted with rage, you keep yourself as level headed as possible while talking sternly. Make even talking to him condescending as of talking to a child, explaining how it’s absolutely unbelievable he’s throwing a fit over good work ethic, and how he’d have to be out of his mind to pout about something so beneficial for Voxtech.

Going on and on about how his competitive, aggressive, targeting work behavior is unacceptable and pathetic… and now you have him back up against his desk, his sneer turning into a look of astonishment.

And then his eyes dart down, heat rising to his cheeks, and you notice the bulge in his pants. At first, you go silent, but then tease him with “You want me to take care of that too? Or will you yell at me for being too good at my job.”

Well, then he’s mad again. Probably definitely a struggle for power the first time you fuck. Yes, he tries to dom you, and fails because jesus, he really was pathetic. But you have him lied back in his chair, pinning his wrists down to either side of him, while you ride his dick into overstimulation. But he’s trying to keep quiet so no one else is the office hears his whimpers and whines.

But when he gets too loud, simply remind him that you’ll have to stop and he responds with a watery, whimper of “Y-yes ma’am.”

Now, fridays are dedicated to his girl, friday. Coincidentally, you’re both working late on those days, and even more coincidentally, you have business in his office.

That business being bending Vox over his desk until he has to cover his pathetic sobs with his hand so a janitor doesn’t hear him crying for his mommy.

Anyways, I’m almost done. I think this specifically appeals to me in a human Vox au sense because i’m hell, a work place of hell wouldn’t be particularly normalized, but it’s hell so it’s absolutely not frowned upon. He’d probably get teased about it at best, and literally a high five for tapping that. But in a human au, the stakes are much higher because there’s an actual sense of ethics and morals in business.

Also in the fifties, do you even know how taboo it would be for a boss to not only be sleeping with his assistant, but getting dominated by her every night???? I dunno.

Oh and the toxic masculinity of it all because it’s the 1950s and without being exposed to the normalization of kinks in hell, it would be so hard to break this brat down. Obviously not impossible, it’s Vox. But so much more irritating.

However, i’m hesitant to actually do a human au literally because of the silly picture I always put at the beginning. Because like I have such a specific image of what he looks like in my head (the @//notherpuppet human design) but… I don’t want to have to DM an artist and be like “Hey! love the art, can I use it for my dom reader power dynamic assistant x boss Vox x reader human au fic 😁😁😁🙏🙏” LIKE GANG I CANNOT.

Anyways, this wasn’t proofread, rant over, bimbo out.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #dom reader #vox x reader #inbox open #sub vox

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celestialglow24 · 21 days

Text

•••Promise Me•••

Frank Castle x AFAB reader

You finally see Frank again after months of being apart with no explanation.

hi friends. more Frank angst because this man has taken over my mind lately and i think you all should suffer with me. please enjoy xx

The walk back home from the restaurant wasn’t too bad of a trek. You had convinced yourself it’d be alot faster than waiting around for an uber, or bothering your cousin at 12 am to come down there and pick you up.

Was it wise? Probably not. But the multiple shots of liquid courage—fueled with the desire to take a long hot shower—gave you a sense of confidence no one would have been able to shake.

So you said your goodbyes to the group you were with, telling them a little white lie that your ride was here, and began walking home.

As the loud street music and bustling noise of downtown nightlife started to fade, that confidence began to wane.

It was really quiet out here, and no one was around from what you could tell. You could see the sign for a park a little ways ahead and that managed to level your nerves.

Your cousin’s apartment wasn’t too far from there and if you kept at the pace you were moving, you could get there in 10 minutes or so.

God you hated wearing heels. You’d yet to find a pair that didn’t make you want to cut off your feet and curse the ground after only a couple of hours of use.

There was a part of you that was half tempted to take them off and walk the rest of the way barefoot, but after already passing several broken bottles along the street, you decided you didn’t want to chance a night in the ER.

All things considered you were proud of yourself for going out tonight. It had been months since you’d done anything besides: work, sleep, eat, repeat.

Save for a few weekends now and then of binge watching a true crime doc with your cousin Lucy or a trip to the dog park with her dog Penny, you hardly allowed yourself any time to relax.

Anything to avoid your mind having the opportunity to think of him. To think of your past.

So when your coworker invited you out with people from your department to celebrate their recent promotion, you decided to let yourself enjoy a night out. You felt you had earned it.

You hadn’t been working for the company very long, but you got along with everyone pretty well. It was nice of them to include you.

It was certainly more fun than you expected to have but after your brain had tried multiple times to convince you that you’d seen someone that wasn’t there—someone who you hadn’t seen in months—you knew it was time to go.

6 months.

6 months and you still searched for him in a room full of people.

It was pathetic.

Even now, as you walked the nearly empty streets you felt him. You didn’t know how— and despite logic and reason battling with these inexplicable feelings— it still felt like you could sense his presence.

Yeah, this had to be the alcohol talking.

You tightened your trenchcoat around your torso in an effort to self soothe and offered a half smile to the few people you walked by on your way toward the park.

As you rounded the sidewalk, you pulled your phone out to text your cousin that you’d be home any minute. She was probably already sleeping but you wanted to give her the heads up anyway.

Anything to avoid her attacking you with a broom like she did the one time you got home late from work.

Just as you went to tuck your phone back in your coat pocket it slipped out of your hand, landing on the ground face down with a loud crack.

“Fuck” you cried, bending down to asses the damage. Thankfully you had a screen protector, so the actual screen was fine. But man you had done a number on it. The uneven cracks that splintered the screen made it difficult to read the time and notifications.

As you rose from your squatting position, you caught a figure out of the corner of your eye ducking behind a car across the street.

You felt your stomach drop.

Slowly… you stood up taller, squaring your shoulders and trying to steady your breathing. You calmly reached for the front clasp of your clutch, thanking any god or the universe that you managed to stow your taser earlier that night.

You chose not to make any sudden movements. Instead you waited. You waited for so long you were starting to question if you had seen anything at all. Maybe you misunderstood and it was the alcohol messing with your senses.

But when you saw the tip of a black hoodie through the window of the car you knew you weren’t losing it.

“Who’s there?” you shouted.

No response.

“Listen,” your voice shook, “I’m about 10 seconds away from dialing 911 so if you’re not interested in explaining to the cops why you’re sneaking up on -”

“Ain’t no need for all that.” You heard a voice call back.

Your breath stilled. As soon as the voice hit you, it was like the ground beneath you had been ripped away. You didn’t even feel like you were in your own body anymore.

You dug your nails into your palm, trying to startle yourself awake. Surely you had to be dreaming.

But when the figure stood and faced you, their hood falling back to reveal their face, you couldn’t deny what you were seeing.

There were so many emotions swelling inside you at once. Disbelief, disappointment, anger and relief.

You didn’t know it was possible to feel so many things at once.

Perhaps the most compelling was the realization that despite everything, you still felt love. So much love that it made you feel weak.

It almost made you forget everything that’s happened.

The feelings of abandonment. The nights of endless tears. The calls and messages that would never seem to go through.

Feelings of confusion. Of constantly wondering what you did wrong.

Questioning if any of it was ever as real to him as it was to you.

You could almost forget it all. Run right across the street into his arms. Hug him and kiss him over and over. Tell him how much you missed him. How much you need him. How much you forgive him if you could just be together again.

But as quickly as those thoughts teased your mind, the feelings of anger and betrayal enveloped you like an unrelenting wave.

You couldn’t allow the love you felt to erase the hell you’ve endured. You wouldn’t.

So you swallowed the tears that threatened to spill and turned away, making bigger strides to get back to your cousin’s apartment.

You could hear him shout your name but you kept moving.

He must have crossed the street because you could hear him calling directly behind you.

You didn’t stop. You didn’t say a word. You just kept moving.

Choosing to run was just plain stupid, but it was your only resort to get away fast.

Not only was it stupid because your feet hurt like hell and you were risking a face plant any second, but it was stupid because he was the fucking punisher.

Any attempt to try and outrun him was pointless. He’d be able to catch you before you could even finish your next thought.

“Hey!” he yelled, finally catching up to you and grabbing your arm. “Just hold up would you?”

“No!” you shouted, yanking yourself out of his grasp. You took a few steps backward and he held his arms up in defense.

At this point you know you looked like a mess. The hot tears you were trying to suppress had spilled over and you could taste the salt of them on your tongue.

You wanted to hate him. You wanted to hate him so much but seeing the pained look on his face broke your heart.

To be honest he looked like shit. He looked like a man who hadn’t slept in months. His beard was long and unkempt. It even looked like he’d lost weight. And his eyes, the biggest tell of all, were sad and empty.

“I just want to talk.” he spoke calmly.

You shook your head. “How did you find me?”

When you left the witness protection program you didn’t even tell Madani where you were going. She tried to pry it out of you, swearing that it was her duty as her job and as a friend to know. However, you wouldn’t budge.

The people that were after Frank had been taken care of according to Dinah. You didn’t want to continue living out the rest of your life looking over your shoulder.

So you thanked her for all of her help and you wished her the best, but you didn’t want any ties to your life back then. You didn’t want any more reminders of him.

“He asks about you, you know?” she had said during your last conversation. “Every week like clockwork. I haven’t told him anything. Just that you’re safe and happy.”

You scoffed, “Well at least one of those is true.”

She was silent for a moment. “I hope you can give yourself a chance to be happy again. Love doesn’t always look the way we want it to and life is hardly ever fair, but once we choose to accept the pieces we are given…. we can allow ourselves to move on.”

You know Dinah meant well. And you appreciated how close the two of you had gotten based on the circumstances. But you weren’t sure if you could agree with what she was suggesting. It felt impossible to move on when your whole body still ached for him.

“Thank you Dinah.” you relented, “Who knew you could be so therapeutic?”

“Just part of the charm.” she laughed.

A comfortable silence fell between you. You were sitting on the balcony of your cousin’s apartment, and for a brief second you felt a little bit of excitement at the opportunity to start over.

Your cousin had managed to get you a job and while it wasn’t exactly what you were doing before, it was familiar work.

You’d be working for a publishing company polishing and approving manuscripts. It was boring, monotonous work but it was safe.

You thanked Madani again and expressed the hope of following up again someday in the future.

Then you changed your number and disabled your emails.

You knew doing so wouldn’t stop them from being able to find you if they really wanted to. Her and Frank were both good for that. But it gave you a sense of control for now. That you were the one deciding to distance yourself this time and the choice wasn’t being made for you.

“Could we go some place to talk?”, his voice broke you out of the memory.

You crossed your arms.

“No. You don’t get to show up out of nowhere after months of silence expecting to just talk. I have nothing to say to you.”

The words that tumbled out of your mouth were meant to be delivered with strength and conviction. Instead, they sounded more like someone trying to convince themselves that they believed them.

“I can explain whatever you want. Just let’s get out of the cold here, there’s a diner not too far out.” he said, tilting his head back towards where you came from. “We could get a cup of co-”

“No, Frank, I want to stay right here.”

He closed his mouth, but you could tell he was trying to keep his composure. You were being stubborn and as much as you hated being in the cold, you didn't want to be around other people.

You didn’t want to take the chance of losing your shit while people were trying to enjoy their food in peace.

“I get that you’re angry, but there’s a lot you don’t understand. I was just trying to protect you.” he tried to reason.

“You left me Frank. You didn’t text, you didn’t call. You left me completely in the dark.” you cried, wiping angrily at your face to rid the tears that were escaping.

“Do you know how scared I was? Having strangers show up to my house and basically tell me I couldn’t exist as me anymore? I had to move and change my name. And the one person I needed more than anything—the one person who could make all of it feel okay— wouldn't even answer a damn phone call.”

You suddenly felt like you were back in the empty apartment Madani had set you up in. You hardly knew her before that day, she was just “someone who had worked with Frank before”, according to what she told you.

But she kept giving you this look. This look that both expressed the pity she felt for you and the wonder of how you ended up in a situation like this? How you managed to get mixed up in the world of Frank Castle?

But you had met him after he had left that life behind him. And according to him, the life that he was never going back to. Things had been good for so long that you never even questioned it until that day. Now you didn’t even know what was real.

“You were in danger alright? I had angered some really powerful people. I had hurt them, did things I’m not proud of and I wasn’t about to let you take the fall for it. You weren’t safe with me.”

“I was always safe with you!” you shouted, “Who else could’ve kept me more safe than you? We could’ve worked it out together, we could’ve came up with a plan—” you stopped as you watched Frank shake his head in disbelief, “What, Frank? What the fuck is that about?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. Come up with a plan? Really?” he scoffed, “This isn’t team sports. It’s not some dumb escape room you sit around and solve clues in. It’s real fucking life.”

You looked down at your feet. The escape room comment was a low blow. It was something you loved doing and grumpy Frank hated. He’d go along with it if you planned it, not bothering to hide his disdain at first, but by the end of it you knew he had fun with you.

You didn’t think he’d throw it in your face as a means to mock you.

“Frank, we were partners. That’s what you do.” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “You work through things together. As a team. Not one person taking over and telling the other person what to do all the time, but see you didn’t ever want to do that did you? You didn’t think I was capable right?”

“Don’t go there.” he warned. You could see his hands start to twitch. In the past his agitation would have gotten you to dial it back a little. You hated fighting with him and it was never worth it.

But this time you didn’t care. You didn’t understand why he was the one so angry.

“Why not?” you probed, “You always made it seem like I was one mistake away from getting myself hurt.”

“That’s because you never took things seriously. You had no sense of danger. Too trusting, too carefree, too-”

“Stupid?” you interjected.

“I didn't say that.” he shot back. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to find some place to channel the tension. You could tell this was not how he wanted the conversation to be going either.

You couldn’t believe you were having this same fight. It was something you never got along about.

You tried to be understanding. You both had different life experiences and because Frank had a military background, he had been trained to look at things a certain way.

He was trained to look for a threat and “take it out before it took you”. Transitioning back to civilian life wasn’t always that simple. Those habits could be hard to unlearn.

It wasn’t always bad, but it wasn’t always necessary.

Not every stranger was a potential threat set out to hurt you.

Staying late at work didn’t mean you were in danger and someone was holding you hostage.

Interviewing a source for your upcoming news article didn’t immediately put a target on your back.

But Frank always anticipated the worst.

You know it was his way of expressing his love but it could be a lot at times. You just wanted to enjoy life together without always feeling like there was some danger lurking around the corner waiting to get you.

“Go ahead Frank,” you continued, “Let me hear how stupid it was for me to walk home by myself tonight. How naive it was to risk getting hurt when I should’ve called a cab.”

“I ain’t gonna act like it was a good idea, and up until a few minutes ago I’m sure you were realizin it wasn’t either.”

You let out a groan.

“I was almost home, besides I don’t think anyone would’ve tried anything with the big bad punisher stalking me.” you said, throwing your arms out dramatically.

“I mean really Frank, what was your plan? Were you just gonna jump out and shout surprise? Were you gonna follow me home to make sure no one grabbed me? Stare down the cars that drove past me? The people that passed me? What was the fucking point?”

For a moment he didn’t say anything.He kept his gaze down at his boots. The twitching of his hands had stopped, and the heavy rise and fall of his chest had slowed down.

“I needed to see you.”

The phrase was simple, but it held such weight.

You understood what he meant. You felt the desperation in his voice. And yet you couldn’t stop the anger from bubbling up.

“What about all the times I needed to see you? To hear your voice? Why didn’t I deserve the decency of a phone call, a text message, anything?”

“I couldn’t risk it.”

“Bullshit.” you spat. “You could risk asking Madani about me?”

His head shot up at that.

“Are we gonna do this all night?” he asked, the anger picking up in his voice again, “Huh? We’re gonna just keep yelling at each other? Who was right? Who was wrong?”

“Yes Frank because I’m angry with you! You made me feel unimportant. You made me feel helpless, like I had no control over my own damn life anymore.” You stepped closer, making sure he couldn’t avoid your eyes.

“You pushed me away like I meant nothing to you!” you shoved him.

“No.” he shouted, “I pushed you away because you meant everything to me!”

He turned away and let out a deep breath through his nose. The weight of his words slamming into you like a wrecking ball.

“Everyone I've ever cared about gets hurt because of me. Because of my demons. Because of the shit I've done to other people. I couldn't take that chance with you. They were so close to hurting you. I had to do something. That’s why I contacted Madani. That’s why we got you into witness protection.”

You felt the sting of the tears start to swell up again. From anger, frustration or sadness you couldn’t tell. Maybe it was all three.

“You want to know why I couldn’t say goodbye to you? Why I couldn’t call you? It’s because I knew—,” he paused and looked off to the side, “I knew that if I saw you—if I just heard your fucking voice—I’d change my mind.”

He finally locked eyes with you again, taking a step closer to you. He was testing it out, seeing how close you would let him get. To his surprise you didn’t move away.

“I couldn’t be selfish with you.” he said softly.

You didn’t know what to say. You knew the people that had been after Frank were relentless, but you never once feared for your life. Maybe there was more to it that he kept from you, and you wanted to trust him, but it didn’t diminish what you experienced while he was gone.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry I hurt you. But I’m not sorry I did it because you’re safe. And I know it’s probably not what you want to hear, but I’d do it again in a fucking hearbeat if it meant nothing would happen to you.”

“It’s just—.” your voice trembled and you bit your bottom lip. You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t put the words together.

“What is it?” he asked gently, taking another step towards you. This time he was close enough he grabbed the bottom of your chin and tilted it up towards him.

“I really missed you and I didn’t think you cared about me anymore.” You choked.

Suddenly you felt yourself pressed up against his chest as he pulled you into him. “No baby, that’s not true.” he soothed.

You wrapped your arms around his torso and laid your head on his chest, letting all the pent up emotions slowly release. God you forgot how good it felt to be held by him.

All the nights you longed for this very feeling. For him to hug you and kiss you and tell you everything was gonna be alright.

You could feel your unsteady breathing start to level out again and all the anger and frustration slowly disappear. It was as if he was a magnet, pulling out the deepest emotions you tried so hard to bury.

“I missed you so fucking much you have no idea.” He pulled back, tilting his head down to look at you.

You both locked eyes and without thinking twice you kissed him. He responded instantly, pulling you so tightly against him it was as if he was trying to swallow you whole.

That feeling people mention of the world standing still—you finally understood what that meant.

When you couldn’t breathe anymore you pulled away, resting your forehead against his.

“What does this mean, Frank?” you quietly asked. “Can we be together now? Do we just go back to the way things were before?”

He was quiet for a moment and you almost regretted asking the question.

“It’s whatever you want it to be sweetheart.” he finally answered, “You tell me.”

You weren’t sure what to say. One half of you wanted to be together again. The other half wasn’t so sure you should give in this easily.

What if it happened again? You didn’t doubt there were more people out there that’d like to see Frank Castle and the people he loved, hurt.

Would he push you away? You didn’t think you could survive it a second time.

“Frank, I love you. I want to be with you. But I need you to treat me like an equal. I want to be included in decisions. I don’t want to be kept in the dark again, it isn’t fair.”

Though he wasn’t speaking, you could tell the thoughts were churning in his head.

“If something like this comes up again I want to know about it. I want to have a say in how we handle it. Can you please promise me that?”

Frank let out a heavy sigh. He had to fight with the selfish side of him that wanted to say no. This shouldn’t even be something you have to worry about. He’s the one that should be responsible, not you.

But if he was being honest with himself these past several months were hell. He hated not being with you and maybe compromising would be the best thing to do after all.

He didn’t like making promises in general, but as he looked into your eyes he couldn’t bring himself to fight anymore. He needed to be with you just as much as you needed him too.

“Okay.” he agreed quietly.

“Promise me.” you urged again. You needed to hear him say it.

“I promise.”

You didn’t even realize how tense your body had become until you felt your shoulders relax. Frank pulled you into him again and you could feel the tension in him relax as well.

If anyone would have told you an hour ago you’d be standing in the middle of the street being held by Frank you would’ve told them they were crazy.

There were nights you never thought this moment would come. So as the two of you continued to stand there, holding onto each other. You realized there was probably nothing in this world that could match this feeling.

You would make sure that no matter what was waiting for you around the corner, you’d never let go again.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle #the punisher #frank castle angst #frank castle x you #jon bernthal

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