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jujutsukgojo · 17 days

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My gifts to you

feitan portor x reader

Summary: You knew him for years for only moments at a time. Yet, you take it upon yourself to love and mourn him anyway, even when the world won't. tw: light smut, slight yandere feitan, spoilers, mentions of murder, light angst, fluff(?), injuries, cheating, time skips an: didn't mean for it to be this long. Feitan is a bit tricky for me but oh well :) kind of inspired by criminal minds 'no way out'. 10.8k

“If you tie it like this, it should stay, okay?” You tap the boy’s foot. Although he is smaller than you in height, his feet are bigger. It’s quite comical but you don’t dare laugh. In this blasted city, you’d be bound to die for such a thing. Especially if you laugh at someone with crazy hair and carries a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire.

He says something in a foreign language that you can’t understand. If you are correct, it may be inverted Japanese. In the books that one kid collects, there is a country, Japan, where the common language originates. Since the common language isn’t his mother tongue, it makes you wonder where he’s from and why he’s here.

The boy stands up to his full, but short, height. You sit on random rubble and look up at him, waiting for what he’ll do next. Will he call over Phinks or even bring Uvogin? He hangs out with Phinks mainly but who knows these days.

Instead of swinging the bat at you or calling over his friends, he pats your head awkwardly. You don’t make any sudden movements or noises. The boy leaves right after. A sigh escapes your lips after he leaves you behind.

What's his name again? Feitain?

__________

In your hut, you slightly stir the food that sizzles in the pan you found. It’s rare to come across tomatoes and eggs but you managed this time. The smell is mouth watering. You hope no one else can smell it.

As much as you want to live elsewhere, this is what you settle for at the moment. In another world, you’d be out of this city and somewhere clean and safe. Like the church or something. No, even better than the church. You’ve heard of the outside where there are bright flashing lights and diamonds and pearls on people’s necks. There are flowers of all colors out there. Different shapes, smells, and meanings, they’re all beautiful. You hear that food isn’t scavenged but bought or given to people without a price.

People said they’ve seen the safety of children your age that play without a care. There are parents for the lost kids and doctors for the injured. Clean clothes and showers on the regular. You can even see the sun clearly and the big, round moon that doesn't bring out the wolves in men.

There are pastors and priests that don’t turn people away, either. Hell, you have even wondered if there were schools there that allow everyone to get in. You're sure that you are reading and doing math wrong. How embarrassing.

Finally done, you place the food on a plastic plate you found. You made sure to wipe the grime off the plate and rinsed it with clean water before using it. Even though you can just eat out of the pan, you want to seem sophisticated like the outside. They don't eat out of pans or use dirty plates.

The food steams and is welcoming. Without a lot of utensils, you pick at it with your hands. It burns at first but you’re too hungry. The flavor bursts in your mouth. Even without the proper seasonings, it’s still heaven. You haven’t eaten in a while so you’ll take what you can get.

Suddenly, the boy, Feitan, enters your hut. You gasp and protectively cover your food. He brings his foot out. His shoe, which he stole, is untied again. You swallow the substance and point out, “I taught you how to tie them.”

“Tie.”

“I taught you.” You set your plate down.

“Tie.” You roll your eyes and pat your thighs. He walks over to you and places his dirt caked shoe on your lap. Slowly, you tie them.

“There, see? Come on now, you need to learn. A little boy can’t grow without tying his shoes.”

“I’m not little boy.” You give a breathy chuckle. “Of course you are, honey.”

He leans in close to your face. “I’m older than you.”

...He does hang out with Phinks, who is a couple years older than you. In fact, it is rare to see them apart. Is it possible that it’s true? Is Phinks the type to be friends with someone who is younger?

Curious, you ask, “Then why are you so short?” His eyes widened in shock. Then, strangely, he laughs while patting your head harshly. Studying his face revealed what looks like the beginning of a sinister smile.

He looks at your plate and sits down in front of you. You’re both on the dirt floor.

“Give me.” You scoff and snap at him. “No! Find your own!”

The little beast decided that the two of you should ‘share’. He smacks on his food, making you want to punch him repeatedly. He’s gaunt and bony, but not really bad like last time. His face has a tiny bit of roundness to it.

“Stop staring.” He inhales a tomato. “You look better than last time.”

“Better?” He cocks his head to the side. The remnants of the tomato smeared a little on his cheek.

“Yeah, healthier.” He stares at you for a second. “Thanks.” His accent is thick, and you still can’t place it. Nevertheless, you understand. Afterwards, much to your surprise, he sleeps in your hut now that his belly is full. Satisfied and strangely not afraid, you follow suit. It’s nice to have a friend, however strange.

You are barely awake, sleep still heavy in your eyes, when you see him pop up. Drool is crusted on his cheek, and he rubs his eyes. He yawns and then spots you next to him. Feitan eyes the entry of the hut then back at you. He puts the only cover you have on you then pets your head.

Before he leaves, he places his bat in your hand. Feitan secures the entry as he exits the hut.

_____________

It’s been years since you and Feitan have talked. You've gotten familiar with him but when Sarasa had died in such a disrespectful and gruesome way, he withdrew. In the meantime, you waited for him and studied a power you discovered. No matter the eyes that were always on you, you didn’t care about the mysterious and hidden audience.

You don’t know what it’s called but it started when you witnessed some kid about to get her ass handed to her by some thugs. The man had moved a pair of scissors without using his hands. They aimed right towards her and in a moment of instinct, you rushed to push her out of the way. Unfortunately, the scissors stabbed you in the shoulder.

It was then did you feel the rush of a force so strong, that it knocked everyone away from you. A faint white light that glowed from your skin that only your eyes could see. As you looked around in shock, you saw that same glow coming from that man and his friends.

You were gasping when you fell to your knees. “I-I’m sorry. I can’t be here!” The girl your age ran for her life and left you behind. In a moment of fear, you call out to her to help you. You were so afraid; you couldn't tell if the screams were hers or yours. Given the situation, you were too rattled, terrified and hurt, to focus.

The men shook for a second then got up to face you. The blood from your shoulder wasn’t stopping its flow. Crimson red stained your clothes and the ground. It was all so strange, such an unusual feeling of adrenaline that you couldn’t help but memorize. Almost as if the world had finally made sense. Every single thing became so much clearer to your dismay.

The men came towards you with malicious intent. While putting pressure on your injury, you managed to kick one of their legs, causing them to buckle and hurt his knee. He screamed in agony.

“G-get away!” You try to stand. The press of your hand on the wound isn’t helping. Is it supposed to bleed this much? It hit your shoulder, but did it nick something?

You need to stop it, to heal and get away from them. In this city, people like you are in danger from men like them. If you don’t get away, you’ll end up like Sarasa. She was never really close to you. She was a nice girl who always looked for video tapes, so you'd help her from time to time. Yet, her death scarred everyone since it was so close to home. And now, you no doubt are facing the exact same situation. Wrong place, wrong time.

Same fate.

You fell back on the ground and looked at the sky. It has always been so dirty, just like the city due to pollution. Still so young, you know you won’t see what it really looks like. In the corner of your eye, you spot something green. A small clover with four leaves.

One time, an old man told a story of how four-leaf clovers are a sign of good luck. By the intense feeling and pressure of your eyes, you know it’s not true. Pain in all ways makes tears fall from your eyes. Lips wobbling at how unfair everything is and that you will never see the sun. The outside must really be heaven, and for someone so young who hasn’t committed a sin, you are wondering if you can go.

Suddenly, flowers that you never knew blossomed around you. The soft petals touched your filthy skin and got rid of the aches. The blood on your shoulder faded from view as well as the pain. A soft and beautiful hum whispered in your ear. You truly believed it to be in your head, an imagination of paradise as you leave. Heaven, they call it. You must be close to the outside world then.

This must be it, you thought. There was no pain from a strike or fear. Just closed eyes and peace. Something you know you couldn’t get in the atrocious city.

It ends. You were shocked as the beautiful flowers disappeared. Heaven, would you reject someone?

The men didn’t hurt you. The one whose knee was broken was able to move his leg. His red hair kind of glowed in the sun, and brown eyes were wide. He muttered a soft ‘thank you’ and walked away without a limp. His friends followed.

After that, you had realized that your ability wasn’t anything like scissors or something scary. It was to heal and be healed.

Although after immediately learning this, you didn't go out of your way to find the source of the screams in the direction the people went. First was the girl, then the group of men. After what you went through, it didn't seem like a good idea.

Feitan, somehow, got wind of it. Now in his later teen years you both estimate, he sits still and points to his arm. There’s a gnarly gash oozing blood. You wonder how he’s not feeling this and if he is, how he isn’t even fazed.

You gently pick up his arm and inspect it. He's thin but has clear definition in his arms. You haven’t seen him in so long that you are surprised by his growth. Hell, he’s taller now. Still short, but at least he grew.

In a jar, you take a premade petal. This is a way for you to save energy and reach people when you physically can’t tend to. Acting as a pill, you make sure that people can get infections out. For some reason, illnesses and infections are particularly tricky and tiring for you.

“Eat this, Feitan.” He frowns. “No.” You sigh. “It’s infected. You need to eat this so I can heal it right.”

“It’s not.”

Rolling your eyes you bring his wound to his face. “This, this is infected. It's literally oozing pus.” How long did this go on? Was he really that hesitant to just come and see you?

He growls and takes the delicate petal and places it in his mouth. “Stop pouting.”

“Not pouting. It’s nasty.” He’s not wrong. It has a bitter taste and when chewed, a slimy texture. The color of the disintegrating petal leaves a stain in the mouth as well. If not for the benefits, no one would even bother. They'd be just as offended as Feitan.

The pus stops and clears up. “Alright, this’ll leave a scar.”

You blow on your hand so that flowing blossoms surround him. Beautiful shades of pink and white go through his hair. With a gentle caress, you see the flurries touch his wound. It starts to encourage his own healing.

As much as you want to do the full thing, you’re tired. All day you’ve been working and collecting payments. Not to mention facing the disappointment of them being useless. You want to kick yourself for not getting paid first. But the sight of those grateful people and healed kids softens your heart.

Soon, it stops once the injury becomes manageable. You’re about to wrap it when a hand stops you. “What’s this?”

“Feitan, I'm tired. You caught me at a bad time.” You try to move your hand but he stops you. He's a lot stronger than you remember. “Heal.”

His fluency isn’t the greatest still.

“I’m tired! Just let it heal the rest of the way.” No matter how much you try to yank your hand away, his grip is too strong. “Please, Feitan...”

Surprisingly, he lets go and from what you can see, the subtle white glow appears and heals him the rest of the way, leaving small flames. “Feitan...what was that?”

He rolls his eyes and plops down on a chair. He says nothing and just relaxes, or at least that’s what he’s trying to make it seem like. It has been a while since you’ve seen him, but that doesn’t make you blind to his behaviors…sometimes.

“As a transmuter, I can heal a little by using enhancer,” He looks at you suspiciously. “You know nothing about nen?”

“Nen?” You put the gauze and other items in a black bag. It was found in the safe zone by the church. Apparently, it belonged to a doctor from the outside. The bag had all kinds of necessities. Gauze, medicine, some syringes, disinfectant, a thermometer, all kinds of stuff that you’ve had to use sparingly. What you save in the bag, you make up for with your ability.

He smacks his lips and calls you a ‘dumb brat’. “You use nen but don’t know it?”

Sighing, you ask, “What is nen, Feitan?”

“What you do. Use your aura and stuff.” His arms are crossed, and he looks at you expectantly. You gather that he likes knowing things you don’t. It’s like a weak power trip.

But it is nice to finally have a name and explanation for it. And that’s what he did this time. Visiting you for a moment just to pick with you while teaching you something you should have known.

“Wait, if you could do that, why’d you come here?” He just shrugs.

------

When you see him again, he brings his friends along. You immediately recognize some of them. Phinks, who ran with Feitan, the boy who always collected books, and Uvogin, the giant who was always claiming territory and beating people up.

Feitan should be twenty now. It’s hard to tell since he looks youthful. He points to his friend, the boy with the books, and orders, “Heal.”

“You can do it, Feitan, remember?” You were in the middle of cleaning when he and the rest of his posse pop up. They look flustered and a little worse for wear.

“Heal.” He always does crap like this. You roll your eyes at first. The body they carry tugs on your strings a bit.

“Fine. Put him on the table.” Thankfully, it’s cleaned, and a new wrapping has been placed on it. Gently, the man is put on it. You spot the cross tattoo on his forehead. Ah, that’s where Feitan has been. Lately, there’s been whispers of the Phantom Troupe. Merciless killers and thieves from Meteor City that have been gaining respect over the years. Your opinion of them isn’t the greatest but it also isn’t the worst. You appreciate them for standing up for Meteor City, but their methods are questionable.

You sigh and begin to undress the boy with the cross. “Is that necessary?”

You continue to pull off his clothes, not bothering to answer the question the girl asked. If she can’t understand why you need to remove his clothes, then that’s on her. She scoffs after another female voice answers her question.

You finally see his wound. Feitan can heal himself to a degree, but you don’t think this guy can. The gash is deep and sewed with makeshift stitches. There’s no nen involved, surprisingly. Given that Feitan is an avid user, you thought his friends would be keen on it too.

“He’s a specialist. Enhancer techniques are harder for him.” Phinks spoke. He must've understood your confusion.

“And the stitches?” You gently investigate the area. It’s an angry red around it and, like you suspected, infected. It wasn’t properly taken care of. You begin to remove the stitches. You wonder what the thread is made of and how long this has been going on.

“He,” Phinks points to Uvogin. “And him,” He then points to another large man with long ears. “Thought they could do it. Normally, Machi heals us but they were away from her. Her stitches would have helped him but not any infections.”

“Ah, well this requires more than I thought.” You touch the ground and out comes a beautiful swirl of flowers. Underneath the moving petals is a blooming sunflower. It picks the guy up so he rests on it. The bed of the flower glows softly and becomes warm. His once wincing face is now peaceful. His injury is slowly closing and the red is beginning to turn pink.

“The downside of this is that it takes a while. It’ll be all healed up in about an hour or so.”

“ An hour?” Uvogin, who has abandoned his afro and traded it for long standing hair. “Feitan, I thought you said she was good? We could’ve gone to that one guy and got it done right then and there.”

“She’s the best. Wait.” His hands are in his pockets and he moves. Feitan looks around and touches whatever he pleases. You try not to focus on his compliment. You wonder if the reason he moved from your line of sight is because he got embarrassed. If so, you won’t tease him. The Troupe are killers, afterall.

You start to feel the weight of your nen. This technique requires more effort than the others. Feitan explained it to you but you never did get the hang of it. You just know what to do instinctively. You were proud that you could do any of this without a teacher.

What you’re sure of is that this man, whatever his name is, is giving you a crap ton of money after this or there’ll be hell to pay.

You feel something tickling the side of your face. The wrapper is red and unopened. You take the energy bard gratefully. “Thank you, Feitan.”

A couple of the Troupe members complain about the time. Machi or Mochi or whatever, the pink haired one, especially complains and criticizes for some reason. You have never seen this person before in your life yet here she is pouting.

“You okay?” You see the blond boy with big blue eyes study you closely. He moves closer to your face. A smile never leaves his face. Before you can answer, Feitan, who hasn’t left your side since you ate the bar, answers for you.

“She’s fine. I’m watching her.”

You hear a couple of snickers. Feitan glares daggers at the offenders. You take a deep breath and ignore the friends who decided to crowd inside your hut. The boy with the forehead tattoo lies peacefully. Although you are running out of steam, his wound is healing nicely. One of the women, you believe it’s Pakunoda, comes to you and bends down.

“Can I get you anything?” You discover that your throat is absolutely parched. “Some water, please.”

If you remember correctly, the last you saw of her was when her head was shaved and some outsider kid did it. She had always kept it short. And now, it’s on her shoulders and very sleek. Over the years she’s drastically changed.

You drink the water, which to your surprise, is clean. “Hey, how did this happen anyway?”

“Don’t ask questions.” Feitan quickly shuts you down. Before you can ask anything more, you notice the entire group of friends are quiet.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, okay?” You nod at the blonde boy with blue eyes and a permanent smile. Completing the hour, the tattoo guy is up. He’s immediately impressed. “My name’s Chrollo Lucilfer. Yours?” He puts out his hand for you to shake.

“Yeah, the book collector-theater nerd-kid, right? My name’s-” Before you can even answer, Feitan does it for you.

He gives your name and how your Nen works. He’s quick with it, too. You side eye Feitan for a second. “Thanks, Feitan. I, uh, really needed a spokesperson.”

“Ah, I guess it can’t be helped then, Feitan?” There’s tension in the air. It’s thick and heavy. By the looks of it, neither one is backing down. “Um, it’s not a big deal that he answered for me, you do know that, right?”

Seconds pass through this. You look around for anyone to intervene with this. Whatever the hell is going on, it’s deep. “Since Fei explained it, why not have her join?”

“Positions are filled.” Chrollo still stares directly into Feitan’s eyes. Phinks nervously chuckles, once again trying to defuse the situation. “Fei, come on. No fighting. Right boss?”

Suddenly, it’s lifted. Chrollo has what looks like a practiced smile on his face. “That’s true. That’s a rule.”

Chrollo takes a glance at you. “She obviously means a lot to you. Clearly, she’s an asset, too.”

“I’m right here, jackass.” Feitan smacks you on the head. “I’ll handle her.”

The others sigh in relief. Momentarily, you’re a little offended. “It was nice meeting you.”

They exit your hut right after, leaving Feitan behind. “So. those were your friends, huh?”

“Watch tongue.” You smack your lips and roll your eyes. There is blood on the floor and on the table. The furniture is in disarray due to all of his friends having no home training. “I haven’t seen you in forever and this is how you greet me?”

He frowns. “I say hello all the time.” You turn to him. “When? I didn’t see you.”

Feitan huffs and kicks the ground lightly. You get up to move the furniture back to place. Your movements are slow and everything seems so much heavier. Everything is swirling right before your eyes. Your head hurts and yet feels so light. Before you meet the ground, Feitan takes you to the couch and lays you down.

“I haven’t seen you in so long, little boy…” Those were the last words you say before you drift to sleep.

Hours later, you wake up at the sound of birds. There is a beautiful blue blanket on you with golden yellow designs. It’s thick and so warm you could stay forever. You’ve never owned anything like this.

Slowly you get up and search for Feitan. He’s nowhere to be found much to your dismay. Last night’s conversation still stays with you. He insisted that he says hello all the time. That he sees you regularly, yet, you haven’t seen him at all.

The blanket, the wind chime, the medical supplies, the various decorations with stones, paint and if you weren’t smart, you’d say gold. Could Feitan have been the one to give you gifts? Silently watching over you and in his own way, saying hello? You have felt like you were being watched for years.

____________

“Do you understand why I didn’t welcome you?”

“No, and I never will. Now please, leave me alone.” You feel convicted by turning a man of God away, but can he truly be one when he left a child to suffer? You were in the cold, wind, and rain, alone in one of the worst parts of the city. All you had was Feitan, and he was there once in a blue moon. After the rejection from the church, you took it upon yourself to care for others as no one had ever cared for you. Although hurt and afraid, you chose not to spread that toxicity. You decided that no matter the size of change, it still works.

However, you will not fall prey to the same people. For instance, that girl you saved and this priest. How can he expect your services with no repentance or atonement? You forgive, but like hell will you forget.

Damn…you were so sure you were over the pain of your past. That the change you made within yourself and how you treat people so no one else suffers like you, would stick. Alas, all it takes is one person to bring it down. You want to kick yourself because of the regression. Then again, the hostility isn’t your fault.

You walk into the hallway with small statues, stone walls, and large windows. The sun shines brightly through them, making the church seem prettier than it is.

“Please-”

“She said no.” Feitan stands with his hands in his pockets, the sun shining on his pale skin. It has been a few months since the incident with Chrollo. You haven’t seen any of them but have felt eyes on you, which you have deduced was Feitan. However, you learned the truth of the blanket. The name stitched on it belonged to an old clan, the Kurta, that was mutilated, tortured, and murdered by the Phantom Troupe. It disgusts you. The blanket is comfortable but still.

Feitan, the boy who you taught to tie his shoes, gave you a trophy of his crime. You wanted to burn it, or bury it in the memory of the Kurta, yet you couldn’t. It’s a gift from the one consistent person in your life. Your protector and giver. So, you folded it and put it in a box.

Now, here he is like he’s done nothing wrong. Defending you and putting the man that’s been with the city for ages in his place. You’re shocked at his behavior.

“Feitan, surely you must understand!”

“Shut up.” Father Rizole took a step back in surprise. Feitan was one of his regulars, if you remember correctly. This must be a surprise for the aging priest.

You hum at the scene. Even though the rumors of what the Troupe has done bothers you, it doesn’t mean you aren’t opposed to the benefits. The priest backs up and sighs.

“If you ever reconsider, please, let me know. We could use your help.”

“I could’ve used it too.” You end the conversation there and leave. Feitan soon follows you. He’s silent on his feet and very fast. Feitan was behind you but his quick feet caught up in less than a second. Now, he walks right at your side.

“So, you just decide when you want to see me?”

Feitan shrugs. “I don’t know.”

Sighing, you turn to him and ask, “What do you need this time?” The lower half of his face is hiding under a plain cowl now. His eyes show all of the emotion needed. “I just hang out.”

The sun is too hot for this nonsense. Sweat trickles down your face and back, becoming sticky. “So that’s why you’re here, right? I’m shocked.”

Before he can say your name, you continue. “Oh! And let's not forget the little massacre that took place, huh? Yeah, being used to heal your friend from that was really fun.”

“I didn’t.”

You roll your eyes. “No, just that one guy. That’s who to you, again?”

“Boss.” You scoff at his short answer. Then, you think about the possibility. “Your boss? Then…doing that to the Kurta, wasn’t your idea, was it?”

“No, not mine.” His hands remain in his pockets. His hair blows in the wind slightly. You realize he hasn’t gotten a haircut in a while.

“If you could, you know, go back in time…would you still do it?”

“Yes.” No hesitation, no thought put into the answer. Just a plain as day answer and a tone that leaves no room for an explanation.

“So whatever he wants he just gets? As long as it aligns with your twisted mind, right?”

His eyes grow darker. “I save you.”

You point to the church. “No, no you didn’t. That guy wasn’t going to do anything to me. I had it handled.”

Shaking your head, you go to leave until a hand wraps around your wrist. “Boss takes nen. I didn’t let him.”

Was that what that was? That tension that day that was suffocating? Remembering that day, you start to form pieces. “Would he hurt you if you didn’t go along with his schemes?”

“No.”

Well there goes that idea. “Nevermind.”

You try to yank your wrist from his grip, but it’s iron tight. “Let me go!”

“I protect you, always. Bad people here, everywhere. I get dirty for you.” His face is indifferent but his words give it away. The plea for you to understand and realize, dare you say, his devotion to his friends. Does this include you?

Is that what it is? What friendship, this connection is? You are aware of the deeds the Troupe do. You understand why they thought it would be a good idea (somewhat anyway).

“Thank you, then.” He lets go of your wrist which was grabbed painfully tight. He trades that in for holding your hand instead. You are shocked at first, but if you make it a big deal, he’ll stop. You don’t want him to right now.

Not when you feel safe. You still want to kick yourself… and maybe throw in a punch.

_____

Apparently, the Troupe have gone their separate ways for now. They don’t cling onto each other for a long period of time after a job. It’s better that way since it has a lesser chance of them getting caught. They still hang out from time to time, though.

For you, you managed to get out of Meteor City after the argument with the priest. Feitan had gone to do another heist with Phinks, if you remember right. You took that moment to skip town. You never wanted to stay in the trash, anyway.

And you were right to! Everything you thought of as a child about the world outside was true! Sure, people can be rude and things can be corrupt, but you’re fed and resting. There are bright lights and kind people. It can be clean and the soap smells so good. Just the other day you got to experience a nail salon. Rather than stealing from you, the lady next to you, Jade, talked about her family. Her daughter is Ruby and her wife is Scarlet. Jade and Scarlet want another child. You offered the name Emerald.

In Meteor City, you would’ve had to fight. Now, you are making friends and offering beautiful names. It’s a stark contrast that is fully welcomed.

The sun is bright and the moon is sometimes round. It doesn’t always attract evil and can sometimes sing such a beautiful melody. There are pearls and diamonds. There are seasonings that make the food taste unbelievably good. It’s all expensive, but infinitely better than Meteor.

And Nen is a secret here. In the city, many knew about it and used it without discretion. Here it’s different. Like a secret identity for a hero. Your nen in particular isn’t used as much as it was before. Your ability was so tiring. Pretty and incredibly useful, but exhausting nonetheless.

It has been a few years since you saw him, but he’s seen you. He found you quickly, too. When you came home from your office job (which you are still ecstatic about, by the way) you noticed a new painting in your house. It was dull and in black and white. The painting is of a few plants that take the center stage. Actually, they’re your nen plants. In the background is what looks like your old city. Piles of rubbish and polluted air in black swirls. There are clouds above and a dark sun barely poking out.

It’s sad. Beautiful, but sad. You have wondered what he meant by it. You open the door to your apartment. It’s not much and one day you want to get a house.

The keys make a jingle when you set them on the countertop. The apartment is still dark, so you scramble to flip the switch. “Why you leave?”

You scream at the top of your lungs. Standing there nonchalantly is Feitan, who you haven’t had contact with in a hot minute. His hair is even longer than before. He wears a new cowl that has a skull on it over his face. His trench coat looks a little too big for him but he wears it well anyway.

“Uh, because I live here? What are you doing here?” You set your bag down and take off your short heels. Although he’s a murderer, you still feel safe with him.

He takes slow strides towards you. “ Why? I looked for you and you weren’t there.”

“You knew where I was. I got your presents,” You point to the painting. He hides his face a little in the fabric. “I like it by the way. Did you do it?”

“Shut up.” You sigh and walk into your kitchen. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

You begin to wash the rice. Your eyes switch from looking down to taking obvious glances at him. Right about now, he should be in his mid twenties. It’s amazing how long you’ve known each other. You remember him as that kid who didn’t know how to tie his shoes and him teaching you about Nen. Time flies so fast when you least expect it.

You crack the eggs and whisk them. The sound of the utensil against the bowl and the sizzle of the tomatoes in the pan is all that is heard. Feitan doesn’t make one sound. He opts to stare at you working and even has a glint in his eye which you think could be satisfaction.

“Do you still like this, by the way? I remember you snatching it.” You try not to smile at the memory.

“I do.” He hovers in your kitchen, just waiting, watching you do all of the work. Stingy bastard. After adding the seasonings, you could have never gotten in Meteor City, you fix him a plate. He happily accepts it and sits down on the floor.

“I have a tab-” Oh, the memory. Allowing yourself to smile, you sit with him and eat off of his plate. “We’re sharing. ”

He gives a slight growl but doesn’t do anything. “So, what brings you by?”

“I say hello.” You hum with a mouth full of food. “Well, hello to you too, little boy.”

He gives you a light kick. The two of you finish the plate. Both full, you just lay back and talk.

“How long are you staying?”

“Not long.” You’ll miss him. “Running from the cops again?”

“Need to hide out for a bit.” You nod, accepting his answer and that your connection will probably always be sweet moments. “It’s nice to have you here, even only for a moment.”

Feitan taps you again with his foot. “I’m always here. I say hello all the time.” You know and are fully aware of what he means. His odd little gifts decorate your house. To bones, to rugs, even a china set he stole. It’s routine for him to give you something, even when you don’t see him.

“Even though you run.” He kicks you again. The more you watch him, the more your chest tightens. He’s the only consistent thing in your life. Everything is fleeting. Your job is new as well as your relationship with your coworkers. But there is a line with them. Feitan is different.

“How long are we going to do this dance?”

“I don’t dance.” You roll your eyes and laugh. “I mean you coming by once in a blue moon.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know.” You nod. “Figures.”

He frowns. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, that this whole thing is tiring. You come and go like some kind of feral cat.”

“So?”

You sputter, “ So I don’t appreciate it.” He takes off his long coat and reveals his chest, next goes his shoes. “I sleep here.”

“You can’t use me!” He gets up and goes in the direction of your room. “Feitan!” You pick up his clothes and set them aside. “Do you hear me? I wasn’t done talking!”

On your bed is a sprawled out Feitan. He looks at you with squinted eyes. “Shut up, I’m trying to sleep.”

Like always, he makes himself at home. You sigh, giving up on trying to talk to him. “Move over.”

He scoffs and reluctantly moves out of your way. You feel him tense up as you lay down. “This is my bed. I can sleep here.”

You face each other as you lay down. Neither of you say anything about how close you are. This is probably the closest you’ve ever been since you helped him tie his shoes the second time. You feel his eyes on you, making you nervous. “Stop staring at me.”

“Never sleep with someone in a while.” You know. The last time was with you, no doubt. At the time, you didn't think about it, if you remember correctly. It's hard to tell since it's been so long.

“The couch is that way.” He smacks his lips. “No, you go.” You open your eyes.

“Like I said, this is my bed.” Feitan doesn’t say anything about your ownership. Instead, he’s honest with you. “I’m tired.”

Instantly, you start to feel a little bad. In the city, no child was ever able to fully sleep. It was too dangerous, especially in the more dangerous districts. Him being honest about his state, you take it as a step.

“If you want to, I’ll be on the lookout.” His hands are next to yours. You grab them, just like he did those few years ago. “You can sleep now, Feitan.”

You don’t know when, don’t know how either, but you two do end up sleeping. His eyes are closed and his breath even. Your eyes flutter open and see that he’s got slight dark under eyes and his mouth leaking drool. Feitan looks peaceful, sleepy, like he hasn’t done this in a while.

The next morning, he’s gone with no evidence he was even there.

_________________

You watch on the tv screen above the bank about the attack on York New, a city not too far from you. The attack happened a few days ago but it’s still in the headlines. You don’t blame them, to be honest. It was an insane event that over two thousand people died!

You cling onto your boyfriend’s arm. He touches your hand reassuringly. His watch gleams in the moonlight and his suit is perfectly pressed. He's the entire package, he’s perfect. A good job, good manners, an honest man, and treats you well, too. He always holds the chair out for you and gets up when you leave the room. Just like a true gentleman.

When you first met, it was a classic coffee shop romance. Then it blossomed into a romantic and expensive dinner, the movies, a nighttime walk in the park, all of the classic dates. In every single one of them he was the perfect gentleman, the perfect man. You like him and how he treats you. How consistent he is. He's the type of man you can rely on.

Nevertheless, there is a bothersome voice in the back of your head that reminds you of someone he just isn’t. He’s not Feitan Portor. You don’t feel the contentment Feitan gives when the two of you sleep. You don’t study your boyfriend’s features like you did Feitan.

Dammit, why are you thinking of him? He’s not around and you haven’t seen him in what? Two or three years? So why think of him now. Plus, you haven’t received a gift or a ‘hello’ from him. For all you know, he could be dead.

“Are you alright?” You wake from your thoughts and look at your boyfriend. His hair is dark, blending in with the night. Eyes kind and green, a Grecian nose, and average sized lips revealing a dazzling smile. Not only is the very essence of him suave, but his looks are also perfect. Tall and handsome, well dressed and a smooth voice.

It's just that one five foot one pest that won’t get out of your head.

“Y-yeah just…it’s all so shocking. York New is literally over there.” You point past the river where more tall buildings reside in the distance.

“I know, I know.” He brings you in close to him. He places a kiss on your head. “Don’t worry, nothing will happen to you.”

Suddenly, the newscaster stops mid sentence and gasps. Before you know it, the Phantom Troupe have been named the offenders that caused all of this. Two thousand people. Feitan, did you really kill that many people?

“I would like to go home. I don’t feel the greatest.” He rubs your arm, you still being tucked into his side. Your excuse was a lie to cover the gnawing feeling towards Feitan and his deeds. Although the Phantom Troupe’s original intentions were from a decent stand point, it seems they’ve lost their way. Feitan has lost his way.

The gifts have stopped coming, him no longer saying hello. After the last time, when you made him familiar food and sat in a comfortable silence, he disappeared. This time, there was something about it that hurt. Like he didn’t want to come around. He didn’t want to say hello anymore. Or perhaps, he died which if confirmed, you would ache beyond help.

“The Phantom Troupe is dead.” The newscaster said. The crowd gasped, shocked that the most feared criminals in the world are gone. Did you jinx it? Curse the little boy who needed you to tie his shoes. The boy who liked your cooking and made sure you rested. Had strong faith in you, never doubting. Protected you from the shadows and held your hand.

Is he really gone?

You hide your face in your boyfriend’s jacket. Tears stream from your eyes at the thought of his grave. With the Troupe, his friends dead, you’d be the only one to truly mourn him. To remember his name beyond his violence.

You clutch your chest. “Are you okay? Does your chest hurt?” He grabs you by your shoulders, making you face him. He’s such a kind, decent man. But he’s not Feitan Portor.

“I just need to rest. I’ll call you tomorrow.” You give him a chaste kiss goodbye. Once he leaves, your chest hurts even more. You slide down as you look around at all the menace’s little gifts. The painting, the skull, the windchimes, everything he’s given you. Why, oh why, couldn’t you stay here long enough for your gift, Feitan?

Wait, what could you have given him anyway? He’s a thief that takes what he pleases and has nothing to wish for.

You lay on your couch and put your arm over your face. The tears refuse to stop for even just a second. You don’t know what you’re crying harder for. Feitan or the confusing feelings for him. Now that he’s gone, you can’t properly tell him. How can you explain it?

It’s heavy on your chest and tightens it. You want to feel his body heat no matter how hot the day is. There are no small flutters in your stomach at the thought of him. No, it's something in your heart. You want to stare at him, to memorize every feature he has. To hear his soft voice that is just a centimeter away from a whisper. Just melt in his touch, his presence. Wait, why is this happening? You barely knew him! Does that fact even matter though?

You slip your hand in your underwear, still staring at the ceiling, sniffling at the news of his death. You imagine the future. Seeing him walk into your house and setting his belongings on the table. Wrapping his arms around you and kissing your back. No matter how long you’ve known him, his stature never fails to amuse you. He’d paw at your body, tearing off your clothes. Feitan wouldn’t hesitate to use his hands for your pleasure.

You trace your fingers in the direction you think he’d go. Curling your fingers inside, thrusting them in harshly, knowing that he can only be gentle in his own way. Your back arches from the couch. You swear you can smell him and the faint metallic scent that he holds. The feeling of his ragged breath on your cheek you could swear is real.

You moan as you take that jump you’ve searched for. Thinking of how good Feitan would make you feel. You're relentless on yourself, still going as strong as he’d be. Adding another finger, going faster and faster on your clit. Your moaning gets louder as the indiscernible amount of time goes on.

‘ The Phantom Troupe is dead.’

You crash on the couch with one last gasp. The dream of the two of you ends in flames. The house, the passion, the years that go by in that home. Maybe even a child or two. Seeing him in the morning with a groggy voice is gone. Rubbing his eyes and saying he wants more eggs and tomatoes is no longer there.

What would your gift be to Feitan? Memories? Sex? Food? Nothing fits. He can have those with anyone.

You slip yourself out from your underwear. It didn’t distract you. Perhaps if you thought of your boyfriend, it would have. But the feelings you have towards Feitan went beyond physical. What is this? What do you call this?

Love? Time stops at the realization. It has to be that. That would have been your gift to him. Love. You cover your mouth as you admit it to yourself.

'I love you Feitan Portor. I won’t forget you. I love your messed up hair and soft voice. For how you didn’t reject me when the world did. I will do the same for you. I’ll look past your torturous ways and miss you anyway. Maybe the world will curse you, but I’ll mourn you. Bury you so no one can spit on you anymore. I love you Feitan.

I’m in love with you Feitan Portor. This is my gift to you. For you to know that you will not be forgotten even though I never got to tell you, to thank you for everything. For leaving the baseball bat with me to protect myself. For painting that picture for me. All of the little gifts you thought I’d like, too. Thank you for protecting me from the priest and the wolves that hunted me every day when we were young.'

You stare at the ceiling till the earliest of mornings. It’s still dark, still heavy with the night sky. There’s some rumbling in the distance, a flash of light in the sky. You don’t bother to confirm anything.

Just as you close your eyes, the window opens with a creak. You move your eyes to see the figure before you. The darkness covers it, only leaving the silhouette. “Why cry?”

You squint, trying to make out the features. “Are you real?”

“Very.” It must be a lie. A cruel humor the world has. “Stop crying.”

“I can’t. Not when you sound like him.” The figure cocks his head, that much you can see with the flash of lightning behind him. “Him?”

“Someone who can’t tie his shoes.” Your lip wobbles again. “I can tie them now.” The moon glows enough to show his face now as he steps up to you. Feitan’s delicate features peek out from his cowl.

You shake your head in denial. “It’s not real. It can’t be. You’re dead, Fei.” Your voice is hoarse from your sobs.

He looks shocked at your words. The man who looks like Feitan smacks your feet off the end of the couch so he can sit.

“I’ll miss you Feitan Portor.” The longer you stare at the imaginary man, the more you hurt. “Well, stop.”

He roughly wipes away the tears. “Ugly when you cry.” His face is close to yours. Since he’ll be gone by the time you come to your senses, you grab his face and kiss him. He sharply inhales, not expecting your sudden decision.

He growls against your lips, “Stupid brat.”

He feels real. He smells real, familiar too. You tell him such and with furrowed brows and a strong grip of his hand, he grabs your jaw and makes you look at him. “I’m real, you idiot.”

“They said you died…” You comb his hair through your fingers. It’s real, he's real . So, what’s going on? Before you can ask him, he cradles you. “Stop crying or I’ll go.”

Your lips wobble at his threat. Rather than listening to it, you hug him. He nestles on top of you, hips placed between yours. He’s light, lighter than you thought so it isn’t a bother.

“You’re so ugly when you cry. Don’t cry.” He holds you closer and kisses your head. Against your ear, you feel his lips move. You can’t tell what he’s mouthing. When the two of you comfortably slept those years ago, that was the closest you’ve been. Now, this beats that record. Face to face, body to body, and sharing breaths.

After a few moments of thunder and lightning, he kisses you gently. Not at all like the desperate one like before. Realistically, you know these feelings you have for him seem fake. You’ve only had a few moments with him. So, why are they so significant? Are they with him too? Is it possible that love can blossom quickly?

Gentle kisses turn passionate, never wanting to separate. Little nibbles on the right places and sucks on all of the best ones. Clothes leave, not wanting to get between the two friends, those who dance around each other. For the first time, they meet.

His hands reach your throat as he kisses you, making sure to give it a light squeeze. His weight is still on you, not hurting in the slightest. Feitan makes sure his hand reaches below and swirls his thumb on your bud. You gasp, surprised you were right about how he’d do it. Every ministration he does is exactly how it was pictured. Your hands don’t compare to it. Not by a long shot.

Despite his size, his hands are still bigger than yours. They reach deeper than you and are thicker too. In no time, you come, the bliss lasting a good minute before he sheathes himself inside. His thickness is more than you thought. It’s a bit of a stretch, but in a good way.

His gasps quicken with every thrust. You can tell that you're being loud, way louder than when you touched yourself. Feeling the rush and strength of his movements has you claw his back in ecstasy. He groans at the sensation. Finally, after this time of passion and intimacy, you both hold each other as you fall off of that cliff.

Feitan looks into your eyes. With a softness that no one in the world could’ve predicted the torturer of the Phantom Troupe to have, kisses you. “Don’t cry anymore. Don’t cry.”

“It’s hard not to when I know you’ll leave.” Silently, Feitan removes himself from inside you. It’s become routine, so you expect him to walk out. He lays back down, his head on your stomach. You run your fingers through his hair. He needs a haircut.

You wake up, not realizing that you went asleep in the first place. Before you can get up, you feel pressure on your stomach. Feitan rests on you still, eyes completely closed and his face peaceful. The two of you are naked and the only source of heat is each other. As much as you want to wrap your arms around him, you know he’ll react negatively or at least flinch.

Soon after, he stretches and rubs his face against your stomach. Like before, he drooled in his sleep. “Good morning.”

He grunts in response and sits up on his heels. It takes him a moment to remember the night before. His eyes widen as he looks you up and down, making you highly aware of your current state. You cover yourself with a blanket draped over the couch.

“I have to go.” Ah, right. He’s a cat.

He gets dressed. Once he has his boots on, you see him tie them the way you taught him. “Proud of you. You finally learned huh?”

“Brat.” You laugh a little at him. Once he’s done you ask, “Will I ever see you again?"

He cradles your face. “I come back.” You nod, holding back tears. He studies your face and settles on your eyes. He must have realized that you were trying not to cry. His hands still remain on your face as he kisses you. He lingers there for a minute. A parting kiss, a meaningful one.

Something tells you that this feral cat isn’t going away anytime soon. That he’ll always be constant and you won’t be totally alone. A companion you won’t see everyday and only for a night.

This is the gift you’ll give him. You’ll be home for him.

___________________

Months later, news about the Chimera Ants came out. You had already broken up with your boyfriend and heard he had left town to avoid them. Of course, you followed suit and got the hell out of there.

Without any plan, you moved back to Meteor City, where you thought that they wouldn’t be. Alas, that was stupid. You made a home base in the residential area. Not knowing that Meteor City was plagued by the wretched beasts.

By God’s grace, you managed to avoid them due to you being in the residential district. News that the Phantom Troupe were home to fight them ran rampant. The thought of Feitan made you nervous and you don’t know why.

Suddenly, right as you put away your dishes, the door opened. You grabbed a knife and faced the intruder. Standing there was the Phantom Troupe, who once again, barged into your home like they owned the place.

“What the hell?” You shout. The first one is Phinks with a wide smile. “There she is! Fei, I found her!”

You put your hand on your hip. “Seriously, what are you doing her-you’re dragging in mud, take off your shoes!”

“It’s only a little.” Phinks pouts. “I don’t care! You don’t live here.”

Phinks and his friends grumble as they do as they’re told. The last one to enter the house is Feitan, who is notably holding his left arm. Without being told, he removes his shoes.

“Feitan…” He hasn’t faced you yet. “What happened to your arm?”

“I’m injured too, (Y/n)!” The smiling boy with round eyes whines. You have no idea what his name is. Only that he and the rest are in Feitan’s gang.

“Alright, let me see.” He lays down on your clean table and says, “It’s all over. I need the full treatment!”

“Ugh, fine.” You grumble under your breath about the disrespect and your poor table. Finally, Feitan sits on one of the pushed aside chairs. He says, “I need it too.”

“Big babies.”

You heal the biggest cry baby completely. The blond, whose name you now know as Shalnark, stretches. “If it weren’t for you, I would’ve been hurting all day!”

Rolling your eyes, you turn to Feitan who has been silent. He holds out his arm for you. You take the limb and inspect it.

“Completely shattered.” He grunts in agreement. He stares into your eyes and gives you a familiar slight smile. You notice that his friends are quiet, not a sound or word among them.

“You guys alright?” You ask. The girl shakes her head yes and ‘whispers’ to the rest. “Should we leave them alone?”

“Probably.” A mummy with boxing gloves answers. You’ve never seen him before in your life.

“Uh, we’ll check the place out. Y’know, make sure it’s safe.” Shalnark shoos the little kid out and into a separate room, your bedroom. “We’ll clear this out in case you guys need it!”

You huff and roll your eyes. Feitan’s cheeks are red and he’s glaring daggers at his friends. The girl goes outside with the remaining three to check the area. You and your feral cat are alone.

“What are they checking for? I’m in a residential area.”

“Ants.”

“They’re here? In the safe zone?” You begin to panic until he grabs your hand. “You’re safe now. They’re not in the city anymore.”

“Wha-how? What’s going on?”

He pinches you lightly, encouraging you to heal his wounds. “Oh, right, right.” Flowers of all colors circle around. They begin to smooth over Feitan’s wounds. You take a second to wipe the blood off of his lip, letting there be some room for the petals to go.

“How’s the other guy look?”

“She's toasted.” You smile. “Atta boy.”

He’s healed, the petals and flowers disappear. You lick your lips at the sight of his bare chest. You didn’t notice before due to the audacity of these heathens barging in.

His heart rate quickens. “You leave again.”

You nod. “Yeah, yeah I did. I had to, Fei. the Chimera Ants invaded. I had to run.”

“With your boyfriend?”

You let out a small gasp. “ No. How do you know that?” He crosses his arms and leans back in the chair. “You lie.”

“I didn’t lie to you. I just never said anything.”

“Words of a liar.” You scoff at him. “I did not lie to you. I lied to him. You don’t have any business with our relationship.”

At first, he was looking at his lap. Those grey eyes of his immediately found a new target to glare at. “You’re not with him anymore. ”

“No. Why does that matter?” He begins to tap his foot lightly. “Why did you break up?”

“You hungry?” You start to get up until you’re tugged down. “Why?”

When you don’t answer, he whispers in your ear. “Because I fucked you?” Your face is so warm.

“If we run, we can still make it out.”

“Why are we running?” A small voice asks.

“Because I think they need the room.”

“Will you two shut up?!” You are two seconds away from running out of your own damn house. You stand and his hands hold you by your hips. “Tell me why you leave him?”

“Because of you.” It’s embarrassing to tell him your feelings. Hopefully, he can read your mind or something and shut up. He sighs and stands, walking over to you without a hitch. He kisses you.

“That’s what you get for lying.” He’s not remorseful or even boastful. Feitan takes your answer in stride. “No more leaving. Stay so I can find you.”

“You’ll always find me, remember?”

______________

Time after that, you were stuck in charge of Chrollo’s lover or something. She’s not too bad but clearly traumatized. Anytime you’d tell her to go with you, she’d look shocked. Like she was surprised she could leave. You were suspicious of her relationship with Chrollo. Something didn’t sit right with you whenever he or Feitan came up. She’d tense up. She never talked about it either. From what you understand with the little information you have, is that she was a former member that raised an orphan and that Chrollo loved her immensely. Perhaps too much.

From what you know, there was a big showdown on the Dark Continent and the boat that was taking a voyage to the fake one. The Phantom Troupe were on that one at first, fighting Hisoka Marrow. He was a sore loser that got humbled and decided to attack again.

Amazingly, only a few died. You didn’t want to know the details or anything. You can’t go through that again. So, after that news, you and Chrollo’s lover parted ways. She went on to find a kid she raised. You, on the other hand, decided to settle out of Meteor City. This was almost a year ago.

You have an apartment now in the town where you and your boyfriend lived, right next to York New. It’s basic, not fitting any aesthetic or anything. The good thing about it is that it’s bigger than your first one. It’s two bedroom and has a good price.

Feitan hasn’t reappeared. It tore you to shreds. You’ve managed to piece yourself together bit by bit, but you are a hollow version of yourself. Surviving and not enjoying the little things you used to. You even saw Jade, Scarlet, Ruby, and the new child, Emerald. Even that heartwarming moment didn’t fulfill you. However, it was the first time you smiled in a while.

You stir the food in the pot. Since it’s a little chilly, you made soup. You put the lid over the pot, letting it cook. There’s a knock on the door. You open it and see the man you’ve waited for.

Feitan is in dark clothing and has a large scar on his face. There’s no cowl over him, or a large trench coat. His hands are in his pockets, and he looks at you expectantly. You realize that you’ve just been standing there, you move to let him in. Once again, he makes himself at home.

“How’ve you been?”

“You leave again.” He states bluntly. His eyebrows are furrowed and has a frown on his face.

“Bold of you, very bold.” You move around him. “Why did you go?”

“Because I’d never stay in that city forever. The Ants were gone, the world settled. So why couldn’t I? That place is gross anyway.”

He sits on the barstool and cracks his neck. You ask a question right after he sits. “How long you here for?”

You don’t know why you asked that. He’ll only be here for a moment. A while ago, you had made the decision to accept it as your gift to him. To love and mourn him when the world won’t. When news about the Phantom Troupe hit, you couldn’t bear to hear it. Their trip to the fake Dark Continent, then their corrected course to the right one, ended in a battle with them facing Hisoka and Illumi and everything else over there.

It was too hard for you to think about. That doesn’t mean you didn’t mourn and that you’ve snapped out of it.

“For good.”

You look up into his eyes. For the first time in a long time, he’s smiling with soft eyes. You see that he has a dimple on his left cheek. “W-what about-”

“Done for a while. Maybe forever. I know I’m staying.”

“But your friends, where are they?” He shrugs even though you see the tension. “Separate. We split for a bit.”

He rubs his shoulders nervously. “Can I stay with you?”

“Wow, you’re asking? Shocked.” You tap on the counter. The weight you’ve been carrying is lightened. “Feitan?”

“Yes?” He gets off of the stool and makes his way around the counter. “You know how you give me all those gifts?”

He nods his head. “Well, this is my gift to you, Feitan Portor. You can stay as long as you like.”

He wraps his arms around you. He’s hugging you. This time, you aren’t afraid to hold him back and squeeze. Maybe, just maybe, this is what home is?

If the Phantom Troupe resurrects, at least you know he’ll always come home. That you two will be a constant force for each other. No matter if it does or doesn't, you two aren't dancing but admitting things you couldn't. This is home, a gift for each other.

#feitan portor #feitan x reader #feitan porter x reader #hxh #hxh fanfic #slight yandere #q #phantom troupe #hunter x hunter #hxh feitan #idk what to put here rn

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whiskeynwriting · 1 year

Text

A New Home (Pt. 2)

Joel Miller x Curvy!Female Reader

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Word Count: 11k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Body insecurity, age gap, brief alcohol consumption, dirty talk, size kink, brief mention of male masturbation, grinding/dry humping, vaginal fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, brief cumplay

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A/N: Here's part two! I meant to post this much sooner, but life has definitely gotten in the way. I hope you enjoy my babies (:

Co-written with @fishingforpike

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Joel Miller Masterlist

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Falling back into his old routine is easy, he’s been doing it for years now. He goes to work, attending his scheduled patrols and contributing to the town wherever the council sees fit. He does his part. Back and forth, home to work, work to town, back to home. When he came to Jackson, all he wanted was rest, routine. And after some time, that’s what he found. While this was an easy pattern to return to, something has definitely changed. One small detail, but big enough for him to notice.

You were constantly at the back of his mind.

Everything he did was just like before, his work was just as good, he took care of himself and Ellie adequately. But behind every daily movement, there you were, your kind smile and dazzling eyes. Your voice, and the way you spoke to him. The interest you showed him.

“So, are you gonna tell me?”

“Huh?” Cocking a brow, Joel grumbles, turning to look over his shoulder at his adoptive daughter.

“What’s been making you so depressed?”

Turning back to the eggs he’s cooking, he hides his sigh. “I’m not depressed.”

“You come home every day just to lay in bed. You don’t even go to Tommy’s anymore, man. I call that depressed.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Walking over to the table, he slides the food onto their plates.

“Well I’m gonna.” But Joel doesn’t respond, just sits down to eat. Eyeing him up and down, Ellie’s lips form a stern line before she finally decides to venture into particular sensitive territory. “Is it because of her?”

She doesn’t know it, but the wound of you was re-opened only a few hours ago, and is hurting even more than before. He’d wandered over to your house, knocking on the door. He just wanted to see you, was worried about you. But you didn’t answer, didn’t even look out a window. Nothing. And where else could you be?

“Ellie.” Joel warns, his tone wavering slightly.

“What happened, Joel? It was only a week but I dunno, you seemed pretty happy.”

Dropping his utensils, they clink against his plate. “It just didn’t work out, okay?”

He’s fuming about this, chest rising and falling while his eyes fixate on the wooden table.

“But why?”

“Ellie, this is none of your business.”

“It is when I live with the big grump of a man that you are!”

“Ellie!”

“What was it? Was it her? Was it you?” She feels like she has a right to know. You’re new to town, and could’ve been new to their family.

“It wasn’t either of us, okay? It was just the, the circumstance.”

Before Ellie can say another word, there’s a knock on the door. Joel’s younger brother taps his knuckles against the wood before letting himself in and calling out for them. A routine between their small family.

“Joel?”

Groaning, he rolls his eyes. “Yeah?”

Trotting into the kitchen, Tommy walks up to the table, looking between the two of them.

“What’s uh… what’s goin’ on?”

“Joel won’t tell me how he fucked things up.”

“Ellie, you’re stepping over a line!” Pointing his finger, he glares at her, Tommy’s brows raising at the interaction.

“Woah, woah… you talkin’ ‘bout…” Pointing behind his back, he’s referencing you, your house across the way.

“Yeah! Who else?!” Tommy grins and Ellie’s outward sass, sliding off his gloves while sitting down.

“Hey,” He calls to his brother, his voice gentle. “C’mon, man. What really happened?”

A forceful breath is shoved out of his nose, those dark eyes darting over toward Ellie. And Tommy sighs.

“Why don’t you give us a minute, huh?” He tries to reason, offering a sympathetic glance.

“But I’m eating!”

“You can eat in your room.” That baritone voice booms, eyes watching Ellie huff as she stands.

Dramatically, she snatches up her fork and plate, stomping up the stairs.

“She’s a handful.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Joel groans, rubbing his face.

“So, tell me.” Clasping his hands together, Tommy leans forward, watching his brother release a heavy sigh.

“We went to the bar,” Clearing his throat, he props his elbows up on the table, fingers intertwining.

“Oh, I’m surprised I didn’t see y’all.” Tommy’s smiling brightly, delighted to hear that Joel took you out on a real date. “When did you go?”

“That doesn’t matter, Tommy.” Furrowing his brows, he scoffs. “Clark was there.”

“Shit,” Rolling his eyes, Tommy inquires further, “Did he say something?”

“Basically called her fat.”

“Are you shitting me?!”

Again, Joel scoffs, shaking his head. “He embarrassed her, Tommy. Embarrassed her bad.”

“What did you do?”

“Went to say somethin’ but, she stopped me. Put her hand on my chest and just… wanted to go home.”

Now, Tommy quiets down. He hasn’t seen or heard from you in days, and was getting worried, too. Clearly this situation was bad enough to keep you away for so long. Your second date with Joel was two weeks ago.

“I sat with her, told her what I thought and… how gorgeous I thought she was. Still is.”

“And?”

“Said she needed time. I guess… it was just too much for her. Got her feelin’ insecure and, I don’t know if…” A shaky breath leaves his chest. “I probably wasn’t it for her.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, Tommy. I thought, I thought I was protecting Tess, keeping her safe but,” Glancing over at his brother, he shakes his head, an enormous amount of emotion in his eyes. “I’m a fucking fool.”

But instead of wallowing with his brother in his own self pity, Tommy scoffs. “Have you forgotten the man that you are?”

Looking up, those emotional eyes focus, brows deepening in their crease. “Huh?”

“Everything you did for Tess wasn’t for nothing, and you know that. I know you do. And everything you’ve done for Ellie? What about all that?”

“I don’t know, Tommy, I just -”

“Well I know.” He declares, cutting his older sibling off. “I know you’re better’n this. Better than talking yourself down and not realizing who you are. I’ve seen you be more resilient than this, Joel. If you want that woman, go after her.”

“Tommy I just, I don’t know if it would’ve worked out, anyway. I don’t think… I don’t know if she was actually interested in me… that way.” He’s so clearly gaslighting himself.

“Why would she go on two dates with you if she didn’t like you?” Ellie points out, shouting from the stairs.

“Hey!” Spinning around in his seat, he glares at her, having set up camp on the steps to listen in.

“She’s right, Joel.”

Releasing a frustrated sigh, he returns to sitting properly in his chair. “I wouldn’t even know what to do at this point.” With a heavy groan, he rubs a hand down his face, closing his eyes.

“Well…” Glancing over at Ellie, her face lights up with a grin, immediately hopping off the steps to come back in.

And when Joel hears her steps, he looks up, confused by her expression. But then he sees that Tommy’s wearing the same one.

“You still got that guitar?”

It’s intriguing, the sound. One you’ve yet to hear in Jackson. For being such a secure little town, you’d think music would bring it to life. But so far, all you’ve heard are nothing but quiet streets. But while the sound is new to your current home, you’re already growing to like it

Walking toward your window, you try to recall the tune. It’s slow and steady, and you’re not sure you can name the song it’s from, nor the person playing it. But the view from your bedroom quickly explains the situation to you.

It took everything in him to follow through, fearing that you’d just laugh at him. At best, he’ll win you back. And at worst, he’ll be rejected by you. He can’t stop thinking about that, wondering if this will be the final time you reject him. But when he glances up again, his thoughts subside into nothingness. His heart practically stops beating, and yet even through his fear, he’s happy to see your pretty face again. And even better, you smile at him.

“Fuck,” He breathes out, looking down at the strings again. “Time to sing, I guess.” Hell, he always wanted to do this when he was a kid.

Slowly, you slide your window up, wanting to get a better view of this. Nibbling on the corner of your lip, you rest on your knees with your elbows on the sil, wondering what exactly he’s up to.

With a deep inhale, he gathers every ounce of confidence before parting his lips. “I… haven’t done this before, but thought I’d give it a crack.”

Eyes widening, you listen to him, to the pretty voice he has.

“So, I’m kneelin’ here, tryna win you back.” Returning his eyes to the strings, he releases his anxieties, nodding. “I know what happened had a real impact, and I wanted to say that I’m sorry. But…”

Returning his gaze to you, he looks up as he sings, “I’ve missed you lately. I’ve missed my honey.”

While you’ve been apart, you have to admit that you’ve missed that southern drawl. The smirk curling on your lips betrays every negative emotion that’s been brewing inside you, every thought that had convinced you Joel was gone.

With another heavy sigh, he shakes his head. “That man was just dumb, to say what he said. I’ve seen him before and he’s just thick in the head.”

Giggling, you exhale a contended breath. He’s right, and being able to relax by yourself at home has led you to the same conclusion. That guy was an asshole and you’ve dealt with men like that all your life, and probably will for the rest of it, too. But that doesn’t mean you have to believe them.

"But that doesn't matter, because..." Looking up, Joel sighs dreamily, staring into your eyes. "You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. And if you want, it’ll be just you and me.”

As he says this, a cold rush of air sweeps through the street. And while he’s wearing his coat, he still shivers, groaning quietly.

“But… while I’m crouching down, I’m feelin’ kinda old.” Quirking an eyebrow at this comment, you grin. “‘Cause my back’s kinda hurtin’, from being in the cold.”

Poor baby, is the first thing you think. He really is doing so much for you, he’s doing more than any man has ever done for you.

“So could you do me the favor, of comin' down?” And when he sees you nod, he smiles happily. “And get back to scoldin’ me for being such a grouch.”

Sprinting down your stairs, you hadn’t even bothered to close the window or grab a coat before you’re running out the front door. Standing with a groan, Joel grins shyly, setting his guitar on your snowy grass.

A soft grunt is forced out of him when you hit his chest, arms wrapping around his neck. But his arms were open and ready for you, immediately circling your smaller frame. With his dominant hand rising, it finds the back of your head, lightly stroking your hair while keeping you pressed against him.

“Did you really mean everything you said?” You’re whispering into his neck, grinning when you see Tommy and Ellie’s heads jerk out of frame from across the street. They’d been watching the entire thing through their living room window.

“Oh, baby.” He finds himself feeling emotional, pulling back to look down at you. Sliding his hand down and around, he cups your cheek. He’s so happy that this worked, so happy to see you in his arms again. “Of course I did.”

Without even thinking about it, he leans in. But hesitancy then overcomes him, that is, until you reach up on your tippy toes to meet him. Reassurance and warmth fill his insides when your lips meet, leaning into the comfort of them. He missed this, missed the way you feel and smell and look. With his hands sliding down, they land on your hips, holding you firmly as you repeatedly kiss him.

“I missed you.” Your own palms move to his cheeks, petting at his silver scruff.

“You have no idea how much I missed you.” Looking into your eyes, he pleads, “Does this mean I can see you again?” And that deep southern drawl you love so much is now growing a little desperate. “Please?”

“Yes, Joel.” Nodding, you press your forehead to his, smiling. “Do you… I mean, are you busy now?”

Leaning down to grab his guitar, Joel lets you take his free hand to lead him inside. And before he’s through the threshold, he’s glancing back at Tommy with a grin. He’s proud of himself, and his brother is glad to see it.

Inside your home, that same guitar finds a place against the wall of your entryway, both of those strong hands returning to your hips. And when the wind is shut away by the door’s sturdy frame, there’s finally room for warmth inside your home.

Joel’s lips barely find time to leave your own, and when they do, it’s only for a breath. His kisses aren’t necessarily hurried but are merely passionate, sensual. And you return them with fervor, with small smiles and kitten licks over his lower lip.

“Mm…” It’s a deep groan, one you’ve never heard from him before. He liked your small lick.

It’s then that the wetness of his tongue finds your own, moaning into your throat when your hands rise to cup his face yet again. And the deeper your kisses get, the more his hands seem to tremble, the quicker his breaths have been.

“Joel,” Exhaling a small laugh, your palms lower to cover his quivering hands. “It’s okay…”

Gulping down your nerves, you hold his gaze, running his hands down your hips, around your lower back… all the way down to the space he hasn’t been able to stop staring at.

Innocently, his expression changes, lips parting and brows turning up in the center. With his fingers on your backside, you finally let go, your own petting at the scruff along his chin. His excitement almost dulls his reaction, unsure of what to do next. But your pretty smile prompts his adrenaline to rush through his limbs all over again.

“Fuck,” Crashing his lips to your own, he grabs you in hand, your small mewl nurturing his confidence.

Pressing you into the wall, he massages your backside, feeling the softness of it for the first time. Helplessly, he rubs himself against you, leaning and grinding into your hip. And the way he moans from the subtle contact is so beautiful, so light and airy as it travels into your mouth. He’s reveling in this energy, in the attraction you have for one another and the way you connect.

“What do you wanna do?”

“Hm?” Furrowing your brows, you lean back to look at him, but he doesn’t let you. His mouth is too determined, his sloppy kisses making you feel light-headed.

“You wanna make a decision now, or later?” He rasps out against you, his scruff scratching along your cheeks.

“About…”

“I want you to be mine.” With that emphasized word, his fingers twitch, fisting your ass.

“Really? I mean, are you, are you sure?”

“Hell yes I’m sure.”

“Why don’t we… go upstairs first.”

Staring down at you, his brow creases in confusion. “Why?”

Shrugging, you smirk, nibbling on the corner of your lip. “Think my sink’s broken again.” Slipping to the side, you talk his hand, leading him over to the steps. And Joel gives you an amused smirk, that look fading to gentle shock when you finish with, “I’m all wet again.”

“Cheesy fuckin’ line,” He drawls from behind you, putting his hands on your waist when you get to your bedroom.

Spinning around in his arms, you grin, “Made you smile, though.”

“That, it did.” With his hands lifting to your face, he brings you in, walking you back toward your bed.

Awkwardly, you reach out behind to feel for the sheets, quickly bumping into them. But while you’re fumbling around dumbly on your bed, Joel’s moving with a sense of coolness you’ve yet to see from him. He’s climbing over you, pushing you back into the blankets while he moves down to your neck. It’s like he can’t keep himself from you, wants to be pressed up against you.

“Oh, baby,”

“Joel,” Quietly, you whine, feeling his lips suck on the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Hm?” He mumbles against you, mouth unmoving. One of his hands travels up the expanse of your stomach, stopping just beneath your breasts. And again, he’s shaking, trying to calm himself from the excitement of this.

Sighing out excitedly, you smirk, eager to bring your thoughts to life. “You wanna take my shirt off, baby?”

“Oh…” Dropping his forehead to your shoulder, he groans, both sets of fingers finding the hem of your shirt. “Baby.”

Arching your back for him makes it easy, and it just as easily steals his breath. Dropping your shirt onto the floor, his eyes are immediately on your chest. But yours, are on him. His face is priceless, he might as well be drooling. And everything about this moment, about him, is making you feel so fucking sexy.

“I’ve been waitin’ for this…” He sighs, shaking his head.

“You want me to be yours, Joel?” And just saying it lights a fire in your belly.

With a sure face, he nods, eyes returning to your own. “Yeah, honey. I do.”

“Then show me how good it feels.”

“Fuck.” That’s all the permission he needs.

Diving down, he shoves his face into the softness of your breasts, still covered by your bra but he honestly couldn’t care less. This is the most he’s ever seen of you and goddammit he’s already so embarrassingly close to losing his shit.

“Joel,” Your fingers card through his graying hair, cradling his head while he starts to suck on your chest.

He bites into your flesh, groaning while he does it. And his hands are lifting to cup you, too, fingers kneading you through the material of your bra. He almost can’t stand it, being so close to you. Desperately, he wants to ask for more. But he worries more about pressuring you.

Shoving his thoughts away are the palms of your hands, landing on his shoulders and haphazardly pushing the material away. Without even thinking, he complies, thick fingers dipping down to undo the buttons on his front. And while he’s working on that, you work on yourself. Easily, you unclasp your bra, watching his eyes widen as it falls away.

“Jesus Christ,” Shucking off his shirt, he’s back on you in a matter of seconds, hot mouth covering your already pebbled nipple.

He revels in the way you moan for him, basking in the knowledge that he’s causing it. Now, his hands really do massage you, fingers pressing into your sweet flesh over and over again while his mouth continues to suck on it. And while you love the way he feels, his warm, strong hands fondling your chest, you also wish you’d had more time to admire him. He moved so fast after he took off his shirt that you barely had time to look at him, but you’re promising yourself that you’ll get that chance again.

Joel’s tongue rolls over your skin, stimulating your sensitive peaks while cupping your soft flesh in two muscular hands. And then he’s burying his face into you, shoving your breasts up against his cheeks. An amused smile forms alongside your sigh, fingers skimming through those pretty waves of hair. But then he does something unexpected, something that makes your insecurities bubble into your throat.

Moving downward, his dominant hand moves across your stomach and sides, dragging all the way down to your belly button. He caresses you gently as he goes, his fingers now toying with the hem of your pants.

Glancing up, he sucks in a deep breath, deep brown eyes meeting your own. “You tell me if it’s too much…” He whispers slowly, eyes dipping to your lips before they’re met with his.

Joel kisses the breath from your lungs, moaning as he presses himself to your lips. Moving with him, you shuffle your legs, spreading them as his fingers dip past the edge of your pants. Inside, your heart leaps from your chest, pounding against your rib cage when he finally touches your panties. His muscles twitch from it, breaths becoming shaky as he rubs you through them. It’s slow, firm, his fingers finding your most sensitive spots and grinning wildly when he does.

“Joel…”

“Can feel you throbbin’,” He huffs out against your lips, eyes still closed as he pulls your panties to the side. “You’re so wet…” It’s already all over his fingers, and he hasn’t even touched your bare sex yet.

You can feel it, the vulnerability creeping in. And although you still have the cover of your lower garments, you still feel extremely exposed to him. But it doesn’t matter, you know he won’t take advantage of it. He won’t take what isn’t his.

“You want this?” Joel nearly chokes out, his throat going dry. He’s stilled against you, fingers hovering above the place that needs him most.

Fingers curling into his hair, your chest rises with an inhale, exhaling a genuine, “Yes.”

Delicately, his middle finger glides through your opening, his head quick to drop down on your chest. Turning his head, Joel kisses your plump skin, sighing, and rubbing his digit across your wet skin.

“Feels so good…” He whispers over your body, suctioning his lips to the curve of your chest.

Inch by inch, he slides his middle digit in, all the way until it’s fully nestled inside you. A breath of relief is released in unison from the two of you, your hips shifting upward into his hand.

He’s thick inside you, far bigger than your own fingers. It fills your insides more than you’d originally thought, because of course you’ve thought about this.

It’s sloppy, the way he licks you, running his tongue along every inch of your chest, flicking the tip of it over your nipples while his finger retracts. With a languid pace, he pumps it into you, groaning when you tighten around him. He can only imagine how it would feel if it were really him, if it was the erection currently throbbing in his pants. And at just the right angles, his hand rubs over your clit, rolling the heel of it against the delicate pearl he so desperately wants to suck between his lips.

Your hands haven’t left his head, and now, they’re guiding him back to your lips. Happily, he lets you guide him, your mouths colliding while you shake beneath his body. And still, your tongue meets his, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him further in.

His moans, the way his facial hair scratches across your skin, the way he flexes above your body, makes you feel engulfed by him. He’s consuming you, touching every part of you that he can, reaching and pawing at the curves of your ass and chest, all while curling his finger against your most sensitive places. And then, he’s adding another, doubling the pressure of your sweetest sensation.

“Beautiful,” He mumbles, making his way down to your neck. “Sound so beautiful for me.”

“J-Joel, baby, I…”

You’re rotating your hips upward, reaching for the friction of his hand. And through it all, you’re clinging tightly to him, sighing pretty songs into his ear.

“You gonna do it for me, honey?” Kissing your ear, he groans. “Please do it for me…”

Already, you’re shivering from it, the euphoria he so easily brings to you. You weren’t sure what to expect when it came to this; you were maybe even a little worried. But so far, Joel is shoving aside any and all doubt. He clearly knows what he’s doing, and he isn’t afraid of showing that to you.

“Been dreamin’ about this since the first time I saw you, saw this gorgeous face…” Lifting his hand, he cups your jaw, the web between his thumb and forefinger settling beneath your chin. “I wanna please you, baby. Wanna feel all over your body…”

“Joel,” You’re tugging at his hair, mouth agape as you gasp.

He’s leaning into you as it happens, burying his face in the slope of your neck. It rolls through you, the pleasure of it growing gracefully. Eyes closing, your back arches against him, but Joel keeps you down. He continues shoving his fingers into you, feeling the way your fleshy walls cling to them. And he rubs you with the heel of his palm, too, all while pressing sloppy kisses to your neck.

Grunting against your skin, he feels you shiver, your limbs clinging to him. But he suddenly feels himself sadden, the more you begin to relax beneath him. He doesn’t want this moment to end.

“Baby, I…” He’s gasping, as if he was the one that just came. “I don’t…”

Lifting both hands to his cheeks, you bring him back to you, silencing his stutters. Your lips meet, the press of them sweet and passionate, searing. And the small whine that you breathe out against him makes his center pulse, finally sliding his fingers from your lips.

Before Joel can stop himself, he’s glancing down, staring at his wet digits. He watches his palm leave the luscious space between your thighs, enamored with everything about you and this moment. Licking his lower lip, he sighs. “Can, would it be, can I…”

Watching him stumble over his words is just so cute. He’s constantly flustered by you, he can’t believe he’s finally doing this with you, laying over your half-naked body and begging for more. Again, he wets his bottom lip, unable to form the right words. But thankfully, you do.

“You… want a taste?”

Instantly, he’s looking into your eyes, gulping heavily; your brazenness prompting a redness to rise to his neck and face. He hasn’t tasted a woman in years, far before the outbreak. But he’s thanking god you just offered it.

Joel’s gaze never leaves your own, his expression softening as he watches as you reach up, gently cupping his hand. Nibbling timidly on the corner of your lip, you push forward, guiding his fingers toward his own mouth. And he just sits there, watching, unable to take action in this erotically tender moment. But the second those two fingers are past his lips, his eyes are closing, an incredible groan rumbling in his chest.

“Hm…” Grinning, you lean in, kissing his cheek. “You’re so cute, baby.”

For a moment, he sucks on them, running his tongue along the length of his digits. Your taste is… sweet, sexually refreshing. He’s needed this, he needs you.

Shocking him out of this moment is your gentle touch on his jeans, fingertips moving delicately. With his free hand, he captures one of your own, shaking his head.

“W-What?” His action surprises you, embarasses you.

“You don’t have to do that, baby.” His voice is calm and kind, incredibly soothing as he cups your cheek while kissing the other. “This was about you.”

“Joel,” Grinning widely, you ring your arms around his neck, holding him. “Are you sure?”

“Baby,” He sighs, shimmying his hands between your back and the mattress so he can hold you tight. “I’m just so happy you let me do that.”

“Let me make you happier.” You insist, combing through his hair.

“It’s late, honey. Don’t worry about that, really.” Lifting his head, you witness the beauty of his face, of his graying stubble and dark brown eyes, his curved nose and the one dimple he has nestled in his cheek. “Maybe I’ll be lucky enough for you to offer that another day.”

Giggling, you shake your head at him. “Whenever you’re ready, baby.”

Joel then settles into you again, both of your bodies shifting as he moves to hold you from behind, just like he’s been wanting to. He’s not sure if you want him to stay much longer, and honestly, you aren’t either. Regardless, you kick off the rest of your clothes, wanting to feel the other’s skin. And after such a sexually intimate moment, it’s nice to have a tender one, too.

His chest tightens, eyes closing as he tries to steady his breaths. The last woman he ever held was Tess, and when she was in his life, he didn’t see any reasonable way another woman would replace her. Not when he depended on her so much throughout the outbreak. And during the outbreak, it seemed like the world would never change. This situation, right here and now, is something he never thought he’d get again. The last woman he held without the worry of clickers around was Sarah’s mom, and now, he can’t even count how many years ago that was. That thought alone reminds him of all the loss he has harbored inside him, all the people that he’s been forced to let go. But he can’t go through that again, he knows it would just kill him. And now that he’s been gifted the absolute angel of you, he’s hoping he’ll never have to deal with that kind of loss ever again.

While Joel’s emotional thoughts run laps in his head, he finds ease in the action of holding you, of feeling your calm breaths. You’re holding onto his arms as they sit wrapped around your midsection, resting back against him. And before you even realize it, your eyes are drifting shut, slumber easing your body further into the bed.

“Honey?” Joel whispers, wanting to catch you before drifting off to bed.

“Hm?” You return kindly, rubbing his forearm. Somehow, it feels like you’ve known him forever.

“Tommy, he uh…” Joel can smell your pretty hair, allowing the scent to help him relax. “He’s havin’ a bonfire tomorrow night.”

As soon as he says it, your belly tingles with excitement, waiting for him to ask you. Will he take that step with you? Now that you’re with him?

“Would you wanna come with me?”

He can barely finish his sentence before you’re releasing a giddy, “Yes.”

The last time he did something like this is when Tess brought him to have dinner with Frank and Bill. He doesn’t normally do things like this, casual socializing. It helps that it’s his brother, though. And that Ellie won’t be attending. He loves her more than he can even find words for, but tonight is a couple’s event. He doesn’t want to worry about her sass.

Joel is met with his proper appearance when gazing into the mirror, a deep breath exhaled slowly as he thinks. He’s wearing Frank’s flannel again, something physically and mentally comforting. His hair has been combed, his facial hair trimmed and brushed. He’d even gone into town to buy a new cologne for you. Something to accentuate the smell you already love.

Amidst his nerves, Joel feels excitement. He doesn’t care if he’d laid with you in your bed only last night, he misses you. Being apart made him long for your touch, for your sweet smile and kind voice. And he’d been feeling this way for hours, ever since he left your house. After you’d fallen asleep, Joel took it upon himself to gather his things. He didn’t want to move too quickly or pressure you. In the midst of him leaving, you awoke, small tears in your eyes until he’d explained his reasoning. And it was something you respected.

Surprisingly, you come to him. Knocking on his door, you bounce giddily on your heels, waiting for him to answer. You’re thrilled to be able to introduce yourselves as a couple for the first time. You’ll also be able to meet Maria for the first time, too. And usually, you’d be nervous for something like this. But with Joel involved, you’re blinded by happiness.

“Look at you,” He grins, stepping out onto the porch. Quickly, he realizes that your outfits are matching. You’re wearing a pair of jeans, tight jeans, and a red sweater that compliments the red tones in his flannel.

“Is this okay?” Unable to help yourself, you step closer to him, hands sliding up to his neck.

“You look gorgeous, sweetheart.” He grins against your cheek, pressing his lips to you. “Never seen so much makeup on you.”

“Is it too much?” A nude shade colors your lips, concealer hiding any potential flaws with a modest amount of eyeliner and mascara accentuating the features of your eyes.

“Didn’t I just use the word gorgeous?”

Rolling your eyes, you sigh, feigning annoyance through another kiss to your cheek. “You ready, honey?”

Intertwining your fingers with his, you nod, letting him lead you down the street. And while walking, he does his best not to outwardly oggle you. He knows that as soon as he’s able to, he’s going to get a good look at those pants. They look like the ones you’d been moving in, the ones that immediately caught his attention. The way they hug your hips makes his insides stir, the creases between your crotch and thighs making his body heat rise.

Even through your chilly walk, Joel’s insides run hot. And as soon as you’re at Tommy and Maria’s door, he lets you walk in first, granting him that view he’d been searching for.

“My eyes are up here.”

Snapping his gaze upward, he meets his brother’s shit-eating grin, slapping his palm against his.

“Shut it.” He grumbles, accepting his quick embrace.

“How’s it goin’ with her?” He inquires quietly, closing the door behind Joel.

“Good,” Joel grins, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Real good.”

“So, uh…” Glancing over his shoulder, he watches Maria lead you further into the house. “What happened last night?”

“What do you mean?” Joel chuckles, “You saw what happened.”

“Nah, after you two went inside.”

“Went pretty well,” Glancing down, he grins. “Went upstairs, and… now we’re here.”

Tommy eyes him, raising a brow. “Not gonna spill any details, huh?”

Grinning, Joel looks further behind his brother, shrugging.“Those jeans serve her right.”And it’s those very jeans he’s eyeing right now.

Almost instantly, Maria led you inside, thrilled to meet you and show you around their home. She brings you to the kitchen, showing you the food she’d prepared and where to find the drinks. She also shows you the bathroom, insisting you tell her if there’s anything you need.

It’s easy to admire the home you’re currently walking through, Tommy and Maria have put so much love into it. Pictures of their journey as a couple hang on the surrounding walls, pieces of the life they built displayed proudly. It’s cozy here, too, throw blankets adorning the couch and loveseat, a candle lit on their coffee table as a minimalist centerpiece. It has a very specific charm to it, something akin to a ranch. And you figure, you might as well be living on one.

“So, I never really took Joel for a singer.” Maria smirks, sipping from her cup.

You can’t even hide the grin growing on your face. “Honestly, neither did I. I didn’t even know he played the guitar.”

Chuckling, she crosses her arms, thinking to herself for a minute. “From what I heard, Joel was a pretty mean man before Ellie came around. And now, seems like you’ve softened him even more.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t seem so mean anymore.” Turning, you watch the two men pass by the kitchen, making their way to the backyard. But before walking out, Joel reaches for you, giving your hand a brief and gentle squeeze.

When he’s gone, you sigh, feeling all fuzzy inside. “He can be so sweet.”

“He seems it.” And she never anticipated that before you came along. “Tommy’s the same way.”

“Really?”

“Sure,” Shrugging, she nibbles on the corner of her lip. “He’s… giving.”

“Giving?”

“Yeah, well, you know we’re on our second kid, right?” Laughing, she raises a brow, reaching for her glass again.

Oh, you think to yourself. Oh.

“But I don’t expect you to know about that, not from Joel.”

“What? Why not?”

“I mean, you’re only just now together. Unless… you’ve already seen him like that?” Holding her cup with both hands, she grins, just barely tilting her head.

Glancing out the side door, you take a look at the guys, currently gathering some of Tommy’s firewood. Joel has rolled up his sleeves, the muscles in his forearms twisting and turning. And when he leans down, you can see his flannel stretch across the broadness of his back. Altogether, the sight makes you sigh, wondering what he’s really like in bed.

“Maaaybe.”

“Really?! Holy shit, you have to tell me. I’d love to know what that grump of a man is like in bed.”

“What?!” Busting out a laugh, your face twists slightly in confusion. “Why the hell would you want to know?”

Shrugging, she replies, “Honestly, I just never thought I’d see him with a woman, not like this.”

“Well, I guess they’re more alike than we thought.” You return with a sassy grin, her brows now raising sky-high.

“And that means?” She prods further, loving the girl talk she’s constantly deprived of. Even though Maria wasn’t all that girly, talking with another woman has been surprisingly refreshing.

Thinking back to the beginning of your conversation, you settle for answering with, “He’s pretty giving.”

“Hey, honey.” Joel grins, turning toward the sliding door.

The two of you walk out into the nighttime air, greeted by the warmth of your partner’s smiles and the fire they’ve built. And as soon as Maria is in her seat, she’s smiling, huffing out an amused chuckle.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen Joel this excited about a woman.”

Reaching for her hand, Tommy sighs, a happy sound. “Yeah… think I can second that.”

Their comments make you blush, fidgeting slightly in your stance. Averting their gaze, you inhale a breath, feeling like a lovestruck little girl. And when Joel sees your nerves bubbling to the surface, he reaches over, hands securing to your hips. Immediately, your eyes widen, feet shuffling to the side as he pulls you over to him. Spreading his legs slightly, he guides you backwards between them, pulling you gently into his lap.

“I guess you’re special, huh?” He hums, kissing your cheek, those strong hands tightening on your hips. And Tommy and Maria are just shocked to see him like this.

Even though you’re only with two other people, you’re flushing like a fool. No one has ever been so openly affectionate toward you. And it seems like Joel couldn’t care less about being so visibly loving. But in his head, this is solid, it’s defined and real. You’re finally his.

“Tommy, been meanin’ to ask you,” He then says, his facial hair gently rubbing along your neck. “Her bedroom window needs some better insulation. Been far too cold up there, think we could get to fixin’ that?”

Turning, you eye him, grinning. You’d never mentioned that before.

“Sure, we have some materials in town. Has it been causing any serious problems? Has the heat been working fine?”

“Yeah, heat’s been fine. Furnace is doing its job for the time being.”

Truthfully, this conversation is baffling you. How the hell does Joel know all of this about your home? Has he really been paying such close attention? He did help fix it up, after all. But to focus on such minute details? Maybe he really has cared for you since you met.

“How do you know about all of that?” Whispering, you turn in his lap, only deciding to ask when Tommy and Maria have left.

He shrugs. “Felt a draft.”

“And my furnace?”

“Wanted to make sure you were livin’ okay.” That sweet smirk then forms on his face, his dimple shining through. “Don’t need you freezing.”

“Hm…” Humming, you shift on his lap, sitting over his left thigh. “You’re pretty cute, baby.” Reaching up, you cup his chin, grinning. But then, your smile drops, and quickly.

For just a second, Joel adjusts in his chair, grunting a bit. Eyes widening, you gulp, a certain fear brewing in your mind. Am I too heavy to be sitting on his lap?

“I-I can move.”

“Huh?”

“I can sit in a chair, if you want.” Nibbling on your lower lip, you sigh, trying to steady your breath.

“Now why would you do that?” He asks, nuzzling his chin into your shoulder and neck. And while Tommy went to get more wood, and Maria chose to retrieve a few drinks, Joel’s already feeling warm and dizzy just from your presence.

“I just, I don’t want to hurt you…” When he lifts his head again, he frowns, clearly still confused. “I mean, you… adjusted.”

At this, Joel releases an amused hum. “Sweetheart, it’s okay.” He mumbles to you in that deep voice, his hands smoothing over the fronts of your thighs. “Just getting comfy, is all… I love havin’ you on my lap.”

His affection is dizzying, your face burning hot all over again. Seeing Joel’s more forward side is making your insides turn to mush. This older man holding you, touching you… kissing you like he’d been in need of it while fingering your quivering cunt. The recent memory has you inhaling a shaky breath, muscles tightening above him.

“And you know what?” He then asks, and you turn your head to the side, inquiring a small, hm? “Feels good, too.”

You’re gone, you’re fucking done for. The organ inside your chest is nearly breaking free, your lungs trying to steady themselves desperately. And while you’re trying to keep your composure, Joel sighs, both hands still rubbing your thighs.

“Feels good to have you snuggled on my lap.” Easily, his fingertips pick up on the clench of your thighs, certain that the space between them is growing wet.

“Just let me know if I’m bein’ too forward, honey.” He tells you sweetly, but you immediately shake your head. “No?” He asks, almost teasingly, but wanting to read you right.

“No.” You whisper in response, the word airy and expressing your anxious excitement. “I like it.”

And hearing you say that lights a fucking fire inside him. Instantly, he’s returning to last night, to when he had his fingers knuckle-deep inside you. He’d wished so desperately that it was him, he’s gotten off so many times to the image of it. Of him finally fucking you. Slipping between your legs and stuffing you full, grabbing onto the softness of your thighs, your hips, repeatedly pulling you into him. And if he had an ounce of decency left in him, he’d be embarrassed by how rapidly he’s growing just beneath your ass. But he doesn’t, he’s not a decent man.

“Well, then I might as well tell you…” Leaning in, he kisses your cheek again, whispering, “I love feelin’ your soft ass against me.” And that’s when his hands slide back toward your hips, gently squeezing the meat of your outer thighs.

“Hm,” He groans, giving his head a quick shake. “You really do get to me…”

“Baby,” You giggle, glancing up to make sure no one’s on their way back.

“Did you like last night? Hm?” Now, he’s really grabbing hold of your thighs, releasing a harsh breath against your neck.

“Yes,” You don’t mean for it to come out like that, high and airy, almost a whimper. But it does, and it kills him.

“All those pretty sounds… shit, I need ‘em again.”

“I want it again.” Nodding, you swallow, leaning back against him.

Before either of you know it, Maria and Tommy are back again and settling into their seats. Turns out Tommy decided to skip out on more wood, and Maria is claiming these will be their last round of drinks for the night.

“Babysitter’s been calling, updating us on the baby. We hadn’t realized it’d gotten so late.” Tommy says with a sigh, tipping back his bottle.

“That’s alright,” Joel’s gruff voice answers, giving your outer thigh a small tap. “We understand.”

Briefly, he thinks about what it’d be like to have another kid. It’s wishful thinking, obviously; he’s getting ahead of himself. But what’s the harm in daydreaming? Maybe if he had another girl, he’d give their middle name to Sarah.

“It’s been really nice having the two of you over.” Maria comments, offering a kind grin. Getsuring between her and her husband, she explains, “We don’t get many visitors.”

“We’d love to come over more often.” Joel returns, almost immediately. “Right, honey?” He then inquires genuinely.

“Yeah,” Nodding, your insides tighten with emotion, already feeling so familiar with him. “I’ve really loved this.”

Friends weren’t something you’ve had in multitude throughout your life, let alone family. Maybe you could really grow with these people, make a real life in this town. Something calm and quiet, peaceful. Maybe you and Joel will settle down.

These sweet thoughts continue to form on your way home, Joel’s hand securing to your own the entire way. The snow has died down, although not completely. Small stars of frost collect along your hair, even your lashes, too. And glancing down, Joel thinks it’s the prettiest he’s ever seen you.

“Would you maybe want to come in?” You ask him, staring up at him with so much kindness. He’d expected the invitation, but that doesn't mean he wasn’t still overjoyed to receive it.

Stepping inside with a shiver, the two of you shove off your coats while stomping the snow off of your boots. And now that you think of it, Joel’s right, there is a small draft. Maybe he’ll be able to warm you up tonight. You hope he sleeps here this time.

“We can go upstairs?” You then offer, turning and holding both of his hands. “I can wash up and then maybe we can talk?”

Talk? Immediately, his thoughts swirl with worry. Oh god, what did I do wrong? Was I too much back at Tommy’s?

Swallowing nervously, Joel simply nods. “Okay.”

Becoming comfortable with your home, he finds himself sitting on your bed while he waits. He’d been here only last night, after all. Just across the hall, he can hear you freshening up, washing the makeup from your face. And then there’s the soft sound of clothes, likely you changing into something more comfortable.

“Is, um… is everything okay?” Once you’re in the bedroom, he can’t help himself. He’s brewing with anxiety, brows folded almost innocently.

And all you can do is sigh, stepping closer to him. He’s sitting on the side of your mattress, legs slightly spread. And you step between them, reaching out to cup his handsome face.

Quietly, you admit, “I haven’t been this happy in so long.”

Pulling him in for a tender kiss, he breathes out his relief, heart soaring from your admission. “Baby,” He sighs in that deep southern voice.

“Sit back on the bed,” You gently instruct, grinning from his already rapid breaths.

He does as you say, shuffling back until he’s against your headboard. Watching you with eager eyes, he sees you climb up, crawling toward his lap. And if this kind of scene didn’t get him going, he doesn’t know what will.

“Is this okay?” Your voice is sweet, alluring, dripping from your mouth like tasty honey as you settle directly over him. “You said you liked it before…” Shrugging, you offer a flirtatious smile. And lord, is he loving this side of you.

“Yes,” Nodding, he leans up to find your lips again. “Yes.”

With both hands on his face, your kisses deepen, fully leaning into each other. And you can practically feel Joel’s fingertips shaking on your hips, trying to not dig in or wander; even though he’d done so much more less than a day ago. Smiling against his mouth, your hands leave his face, falling to the tops of his.

Sliding his hands further down, he groans into your mouth, feeling you guide him to the ethereal softness you have. Immediately, he’s grabbing you, pawing at you with both hands.

“Fuck me,” He mumbles against your mouth, voice guttural and deep.

Rolling your hips forward, his lungs stutter in his chest, feeling you drag your covered sex directly over his lap. Grinning, you take advantage of his flustered state, fully grinding down on him. And when he gathers himself, he encourages you, shoving your hips forward with every roll, fisting your ass in his hands and moaning openly when you push back against the broadness of them. And still, your tongue slides against his, tasting him, mouthing at him, doing everything you can with him.

“You wanna see me again, baby? Huh?” Teasingly, you speak to him, whispering sweetly against his lips.

“Oh, yes; god yes, please - please.”

Easily, you lift your shirt from your midsection, revealing to him your lack of undergarments. Your breasts fall before his face, those brown eyes completely ogling you. Before he even gathers the decency to ask, he’s leaning in to suck on them. But that’s alright, more than alright; you would’ve said yes.

“Joel,” Fiddling with the collar of his shirt, you sigh. “Can you take yours off?” He’s sucking on your nipple, pulling at it with his lips. “Can I take your shirt off, baby?”

“Yes - yeah, baby.” Nodding, he stares up at you in awe, licking languidly over your chest while holding your eye contact.

Lips parting, and now forming a timid smirk, your fingers fall to the line of buttons keeping him from you. He grins when you do it, opening his shirt with hurried fingers and then shoving it off his shoulders. And now, you see him, his broad chest and softening stomach, the few hairs he has, including the little trail leading down to his pelvis.

“C’mon,” He grunts, grabbing onto your hips. “Don’t stop now.”

Giggling, you return to him, cupping his face as you bring yourself in. And you expect to stay like this, rubbing yourself over his lap again and again, but Joel changes your positioning. Rolling over with a huff, he lays you onto your back, his pelvis nestled between your legs. At this point, he’s so turned on he feels like he can’t even breathe, his one hand continuing to grab your sweet thighs while the other keeps him above you. And his mouth hasn’t left, either, repeatedly meeting your lips, sliding his tongue inside so he can taste your spit.

You feel like you’re somewhere else, no longer plagued with your everyday burdens in a post-apocalyptic world. Because right now, it’s him, it’s all him. His body, his face, his breath and his moans, the way he touches you, the way he smells.

“Joel,” Moaning quietly, your fingers once again find his graying hair, curling into the strands ever so slightly. “Baby…”

But you’re not calling for his attention, he knows it. You’re only saying his name, reminding yourself that this is the man you’ve grown to trust. And you finally feel safe with someone like this.

And now, his hands are falling to your hips, fingers hooking into the hem of your pants. He can feel himself getting carried away, adrenaline rushing through his veins, his breaths erratic and ragged. And his next move makes your own breaths nonexistent.

Lowering himself alongside your pants, he begins to kiss every inch of exposed flesh he sees. His lips find the insides of your thighs, his arousal prompting his confidence to shoot higher than he can even believe. And he intends to continue, until you inch away from him.

Immediately, he’s lifting himself, those baby browns full of concern and worry. “Are you okay?” He asks, stopping every one of his motions. “Is, is this alright? Did I go too far?”

“No! No, I… I just…” Sliding your feet along the bed, you lift your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them as you sigh. This isn’t new to you, and it’s not really new to him, either. He’s seen this side of you. “I… don’t like how I look, Joel.”

Gulping, he frowns, a concerned crease in his forehead. He makes sure not to move, though, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. But honestly, he doesn't know what to say. Even though he’s seen this side of you before, it still surprises him.

“I know you’ve said you do, but… I just don’t. And most men don’t, either.”

“Baby,” Sliding further up the bed, he moves himself to your side to put you at ease. “You’re so beautiful, you’re so beautiful.”

You feel embarrassed by these emotions, and honestly, you expected him to be sick of them by now. Nobody wants to hear someone complain, especially about their own body. You thought this all would have turned him away, or at least turned him off. But it doesn’t seem that way.

“The second I saw you, I…” His eyes trail over you, a gentle shake moving his head. “I felt like I couldn’t help myself.”

Pouting in thought, you wonder aloud, “What do you mean?”

“Honey,” He sighs, almost dramatically. “You’re… so fucking sexy.”

Of all things, those were the last words you expected to hear. But then he keeps going.

“All I wanted to do was touch you, grab your thighs and feel how soft you were. And you are, you’re so soft, baby. You know how hard it was for me to keep my hands to myself tonight? Feelin’ your sweet ass snuggling my lap? Every little move you made rubbing against me?”

It’s starting to make you grin, his words and overt expressions. And the more he talks, the more expressive he seems to become, leaning in to place his warm hand on your thigh.

“Even after you said no to me, I kept comin’ back. You know why? Because you’re gorgeous, sweetheart. You’re so pretty, you’re so curvy, and you look so good to me.”

“Really?”

“I want you to see yourself that way, too.” Joel continues, eyes glazing over your body. He’s passionate about this, about you. “It breaks my heart to know you don’t. But I need you to know that I do, I like how you look, baby. I fucking love how you look. Your body isn’t something I’m just okay with or wish would change. I love it.”

With your emotions completely rising to the surface, you reach for him, bringing him to you once again. And he fully leans into it, pressing his lips to yours with something between a whine and a moan.

“I want you, honey. But if this is too much for you, we don’t have to do this. Not tonight, not until you’re comfortable.”

“No,” Shaking your head against him, you lean in, pressing your forehead to his. “I want it.”

Easily, he slides back between your thighs, hovering above you. Both broad hands find your thicker thighs, fingertips rubbing your soft skin as he sighs. And just like before, he moves himself down, gently dragging his lips over you.

“So sweet,” He mumbles, pressing a timid kiss to your inner thigh. It’s an experimental act, he’s waiting to see what you’ll do. Moaning softly, you grin, spreading your legs a bit wider for him. “So soft…”

Joel sees the cellulite on your legs, his fingers pressing harder into your skin and watching the dimples further indent. And he loves it, he loves your squishy-soft thighs. Letting himself go, he begins to explore, lips and teeth sucking on your smooth skin. But he doesn’t stop there, he makes sure to pepper all your insecurities with his loving nibbles. And before he knows it, he’s leaving splotchy marks on your body, groaning while he soothes the sting with tender little licks. He’s worshiping your body, the curves you’ve been so insecure of in the past. Because it’s almost in the past; he’s changing the way you see your body.

“Oh, baby,” Joel’s voice is muffled, that deep southern tone making you tingle inside. “Please let me taste you.”

With almost embarrassingly quick movements, you lift your legs, encasing him between them. The soles of your feet rest on the comforter above your bed, settling on either side of Joel’s midsection.

“Yes,” Already reaching for his hair, you whine, feeling the heat from his breath fan over your most sensitive space.

And even though you’re still covered, he kisses you, your very center, over the thin fabric of your panties. It makes you shiver, inhaling a sharp breath when he finally pulls them to the side.

“Oh,” He groans, face going slack at the sight of your bare skin right in front of him. “Fuck me.”

Leaning in, he kisses you again, feeling your body jerk beneath his hands. Securing them to your hips, he sighs, sliding his tongue up through your lips.

“J-Joel,”

His response comes as a short grunt, pressing himself further against you. He licks into you, slowly, deeply, his eyes fluttering shut as he tastes you once again. The facial hair along his cheeks and jawline tickles your skin, rubbing against you as he lifts himself to your clit. Inhaling sharply, you reach for his hair, feeling him suck your reddened nub between his lips.

Leaning forward, Joel wraps his arms around your hips, holding you against him. Passionately, he mouths at you, feeling your pelvis roll up in time with his licks. And he loves the way you’re pulling on his hair, the subtle sting exciting him. Moaning into you, he feels his chest tighten, his lungs stuttering as he continues to indulge in you. He’s licking repeatedly past your folds and returning every few seconds to lave his tongue over your clit, reveling in the way you shake for him. And he’s so fucking hard that it hurts, sliding his hands to the side of your waist, lowering down to the pretty little divots in your hips, holding them just like he’s always wanted to.

“Baby, baby,” He’s gasping, mouthing at you and sucking on your clit. “Oh, I love this. You’re so sexy like this.”

“That’s so good,” Rolling your hips up, you tighten your hold on his hair, eyes pinching shut as you finally experience this with him. “That feels so good…”

“You’re so sweet, baby. Such a sweet girl…” You can feel his hot breath, his stubble rubbing roughly against your thighs. “I want you to be mine.” It’s expressed in one long, heated sigh. And even though he’s sure that’s what this is, he’s sure you’re already his. He wants you to say it again.

“Baby,”

“Will you?” He pleads, right hand reaching down to squeeze your backside. “Please. Oh, please.”

“Joel… yes, baby.”

“Yeah?” He asks, and he wants to slide a finger into you so badly. But baby steps, he tells himself.

“Yes!”

You feel so incredibly close to him, how could you not with his face buried between your thighs? The way he sucks on you makes your head spin, your chest heaving from it. With your back arching, you feel yourself begin to unravel beneath him, your thighs shaking around his head.

“B-Baby, baby… yes.” Gasping, you cling to him, feeling his arms secure on their hold around you.

He’s so strong, fully capable of holding you down while you cum in his mouth. And he can feel it, the hot rush of it washing over his tongue, the sweetly tangy taste of you fucking consuming him.

“Jesus,” He’s grinding down into the bed, grunting from the barrier of his jeans still restricting him.

Turning his head, Joel licks you clean, running his tongue all along your inner thighs. And it’s overkill, but it’s sexy as hell.

“Baby,” Giggling, your body jerks beneath his touch, feeling sensitive.

“Honey, can I?” He’s then begging, whining against your leg.

“You wanna fuck me?”

Head shooting up, he nods it at you. “Please.”

He doesn’t waste any time; as soon as you say it, he’s shuffling back off the bed to stand. Hurriedly, he undoes his belt, popping the button on his jeans before pulling down his fly. Watching intently, you see his pants drag down, collectively pulling his boxers away from his body.

The first thing you notice is his hair; he isn’t trimmed too neatly, but isn’t exactly bushy. And your mouth waters from the sight of it. He’s hanging heavy and uncut between his legs, his shaft glistening from the slow drip of his prespend.

“Baby…” You intend to sit up, already reaching out for him, but Joel’s body presses you back into the bed.

“Honey,” He moans, voice muffled from the way he shoves his face into your neck. Easily, he’s back between your legs, one hand lowering to hold himself above your sex. “You want me, huh? Want me inside you?”

“Yes, baby.” Naturally, your arms lift, clinging to him. “Please.”

He rubs the tip of himself over your still wet center, chuckling briefly from the sensation of it. The head of his dick taps against your clit, forcing your body to jerk and shiver.

“Calm down for me,” He coos, that beautiful voice deep and gravely as he speaks to you. “Just relax while I slide in…”

“Joel,” Heartbeat pounding in your ears, you gasp, feeling the subtle pressure of him.

The grunt you receive in response is deafening, the boom of it echoing in your ear. It’s animalistic, the sounds coming from him as he continues through your center, feeling your warmth envelope him. He’s stretching you, the pain insignificant compared to the ethereal view of him. He’s sweating, a light sheen covering his skin. And when his pelvis meets your own, you release a heavy breath. He’s here, he’s in your bed. Joel is naked in your fucking bed and sliding between your thighs with the most restraint he’s ever had.

“Jesus Christ,”

“Fuck,” Tossing your head back, your lips part, walls throbbing around him.

“I don’t, wow.”

“What?” You giggle, fingers petting at his soft curls .

“You… just feel so fucking good.”

“Then move,” You tease, turning to kiss his cheek. “I wanna feel you, baby.”

Your soft words make his eyes roll back, a soft groan spilling from his lips. And still, he does what you say, slowly retracting his hips. The forward motion of him diving back in is even better than the first, somehow prodding deeper into your center. Your legs lifting to his sides is what does it for him, feeling your body encase him, pulling him closer, deeper.

“Baby,” Grunting, he rolls himself against you, thrusting harder with every motion he gives. “Sweetheart.”

Lifting your hips, you sigh, feeling the firm drag of him along your walls, his erection weighing heavy inside your sex. And every harsh rut prompts a subtle rub over your reddened clit, his pelvis brushing over your own as your bodies move together in unison.

“I don’t think, ugh, fuck.” Lowering his hand, he grabs onto your left hip, pressing you down. He uses this as leverage, fucking into you harder, faster, teeth coming out to bite at your neck. “I’m not gonna last, honey. Not like this.”

“I don’t care,” Your voice is light and airy, fingers tugging on his dark brown hair, every part of you pulling him in. “Fuck, I love it. I love it, baby. I love the way you feel.”

“God, you’re mine. You beautiful fuckin’ thing.” He’s almost begun to ramble, his words quick and pace quicker. “Gorgeous girl, young little girl.”

“Hm, you like that, baby?”

“Oh, do I.”

You chuckle at his wording, gasping shortly thereafter when his tip punches against your sensitive inner flesh.

“Yeah?” He teases, fingernails digging into your skin. “Right there?”

“Fuck, harder. Please.”

Shoving his face into the slope of your shoulder and neck, he does just that, thrusting into you without abandon, the sound of skin slapping on skin ringing throughout your empty home. His sweat drips over you, his humid breaths washing over your neck. He can feel the scrape of your nails down his back, the strength of your legs pulling him in.

“W-Where?” He then asks, desperation lacing his tone. “Where, baby?”

“Pull out, please pull out.” You’d love to see him paint you.

As soon as you say it, he’s leaning back, pulling himself from your warm and welcoming walls. Joel’s dominant hand then comes down, fervently jerking his shaft over your lower tummy. Lifting your head, you watch with eager eyes, still gasping from the feeling of him.

“Ngh,” Shaking, he grunts above you, spurts of his spend littering your skin.

It comes out in ropes, the hot gooiness of it dripping over your belly. He reaches for your knee with his spare hand, gripping it harshly. Shaking slightly, he breathes through his orgasm, eyes glued to where he’s just came.

“Honey,” Comes that ragged voice, the word spoken through a sigh.

“I’m here, baby.” It comes out with more emotion than you’d meant it to, but you don’t regret it.

Instantly, he’s meeting your eyes, leaning all the way down for a sweet kiss.

“I want you.” He expresses wholeheartedly, arching his back so he doesn’t rub himself into his own cum.

“You have me.” You coo sweetly in return, reveling the feeling of his body heat.

“Wanna keep you.” Turning his head, Joel kisses along your shoulder and neck.

“I’m yours, Joel. I promise.” And you’d do anything to keep him. “Will you stay? Tonight?”

Releasing a heavy breath, he grins, the gorgeous expression evident against your skin. “Of course, honey. Of course I’ll stay, stay as long as you let me.”

#Joel Miller #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x female reader #Joel Miller x curvy reader #Joel Miller smut #Joel Miller tlos #The Last of Us #The Last of Us fanfiction

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secretshinigami · 1 year

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Cooking vs Cookies

Author: @izaori (Malcolm or Kris works, too)

For: @mapsareforbraindeads (this makes me a brain dead, rip)

Pairings/Characters: Light, Near, L. Light/L, PLATONIC moonriver. Like a sibling relationship.

Rating/Warnings: Comedy, kind of fluff.. If people messing up stuff in a kitchen counts as a warning, you have been warned. Also food talk.

Prompt: light and near making cookies together to surprise L, who sneaks in and tastes the cookie dough when they aren’t looking and critiques it. i actually had a dream about this once.

Author’s notes: It’s been a while since I wrote characters that weren’t my ocs, so I was pretty excited to do a fic this time. I started one of your other prompts, but this one felt more natural, so here we are. I liked all your prompts. Wish my hands would’ve worked for drawing this past month lol.

Valentine’s Day. A fun, yet very stressful time of year. Some people rush to stores to buy chocolate and flowers, plan a fancy meal, wear different clothes for a variety of reasons, but Light Yagami has decided to bake.

Baking and cooking are very different. When you cook, it’s usually pretty easy to change a recipe on the fly. Adding a little more this, leaving out a little of that, and so on. Baking? Baking is a science. You add half a teaspoon too much of something and the entire process goes tits up.

Before he’s even started baking, Light has brought out every single utensil and ingredient he’ll need. His first idea was making cake, but there is simply too much that could go wrong with cake. Brownies were a no go, and cupcakes are essentially like small cakes that he could also very easily mess up. After mulling it around, Light decided on cookies. But what kind of cookies? Classic chocolate chip? A fancy lace cookie? The kind you roll up and put in a freezer? Lemon crisps? Thumbprints? Snickerdoodles? What about something more out there, like springerle? Light doesn’t have the tools to make those, anyway.

Who could go wrong with a classic chocolate chip recipe? Simple and delicious, easy to make in bulk. His boyfriend’s diet consists of pretty much only sweets.

Right when he’s about to get started, someone joins him in the kitchen. “It’s not good to let eggs sit out.”

Light sighs. Out of all the people to interrupt him, it had to be none other than, “Near. I’m baking, the eggs will be fine for a few minutes.”

Near observes the ingredients scattered around the counter, and the various mixing bowls and utensils. Light goes back to reading the recipe, but stops when he hears tapping. Near is playing with the mixing bowls, stacking them in an odd way. He doesn’t stop even after noticing Light’s glare.

“What? You aren’t using them yet.”

“And how will I, when you’re playing with them like toys? Did you even wash your hands?”

Near rolls his eyes. “I’m not dirty.”

“So? I don’t know where your hands have been.”

“On the bowls. Obviously.”

Light huffs, snatching the bowls away and setting them in the sink. He gives them a quick wash while Near moves on to playing with the spatulas instead.

“Stop playing around. I’m trying to bake.”

“L kicked me out of the room to study something. I’m bored.”

“Either help, or find something else to do.”

Near gives a slight pout, pondering the decision. He’d like to tell Light he’ll do what he wants, but knowing this is for L, maybe he should give the guy a break. This time. He’ll go back to being a nuisance another time. Near walks over to the recipe book and scrunches up his nose. “This is boring.”

“Sometimes boring is better.”

“Only two teaspoons of vanilla? That doesn’t seem like a lot. Why not half a cup?”

“You have to be joking.”

“It doesn’t sound like a lot to me.”

Light pinches the bridge of his nose, holding back some colorful language. “I don’t believe they even sell vanilla extract in that large a quantity, unless you’re buying one of those bigger, aged bottles. This,” he says, grabbing the tiny container, “is how vanilla extract is usually sold.”

Near takes the small bottle out of Light’s hand. Once more, he observes it carefully. “Why is it alcoholic?”

“Excuse me?”

“Are you making alcoholic cookies?”

“Do you know nothing about baking? I’m not trying to get L drunk off vanilla. Think of it like bier cheese, the alcohol basically gets cooked out. It’s just there for flavor.”

“Why are you putting something in just to bake it out?”

Light finally catches on to the joke. He glares, and Near gives a shit eating grin. “Very funny, Near. Hand it over.”

Near gives back the extract and moves on. Finally, after what feels like forever, Light starts working on the batter. Light mixes the dry ingredients together, then grabs a different bowl. Near stops him.

“Why aren’t you putting the butter with the rest of it?”

Light is starting to feel more agitated. “It won’t mix properly if you do the ingredients in the wrong order.”

Near looks around at the remaining contents. “It all goes together anyway. Why does it matter?”

“It’s like math. If you do the equation in the wrong order, like not using PEMDAS, you’ll get the wrong answer. We don’t want the cookies to be messed up.”

That makes sense. Near doesn’t really understand the order of baking, but he definitely understands math. He’ll take Light’s word for it. The recipe backs up his reasoning, anyway. Near doesn’t lose the page as he flips through the book, noticing most of the recipes carry on that way. Dry ingredients, wet ingredients, mix. Seems simple enough.

The process has been prolonged by Near’s shenanigans, but the cookies are almost ready to be put in the oven.

“Why are you using such a small amount of dough?” Near questions, again.

Light has had enough. He turns his attention away from the batter and pulls Near over to the recipe book. “Look. Just look. We need to use one inch balls so that the cookies aren’t too small or too big. See the picture? If we use more dough, it won’t cook right. If we use less dough, it won’t cook right. The recipe is made for cookies like this!”

Near scrunches up his nose again. “L likes a variety of cookies. Underbaked, overbaked, just right- he’ll eat them no matter how you serve them. Why not make bigger cookies?”

“Because I want them to be perfect! I want to make something delicious for my boyfriend!”

With the argument happening, said boyfriend is able to sneak into the kitchen with ease. L quietly takes a look around, finding himself at the pot of gold- raw cookie dough. Salmonella be damned, raw cookie dough is a delight, a delicacy, one of the greatest things Watari would never purposefully let L have. He grabs a clean spoon and swipes some.

Oh. Oh no. He frowns.

“This isn’t right. At all.”

Light and Near freeze. With perfect timing, they both turn around to face L.

“He followed the recipe,” Near gets out first.

“Right, the recipe-!”

L shakes his head. He looks at the different measuring utensils laid about and figures out the issue with ease.

“You didn’t convert to grams properly. The ratios are all wrong. Also, it reeks of vanilla.”

Light glares at Near. Near smiles sheepishly. “Oops.”

L takes another spoonful of the cookie dough anyway. “It’s not horrible. You could try again.”

“I think I’ll go store bought this time.”

L smiles and tosses the spoon into the sink. “That might be a better idea for you two. Leave the baking to Watari.”

Light and Near have been defeated, but they still come out winners. L’s smile is the real prize. At least they attempted making something, even if it ended in disaster.

#fanfiction #death note #submission #light yagami #nate river #l lawilet #izaori #mapsareforbraindeads #naomi and halle's ambitious anniversary

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dispensingdues · 2 years

Photo

PLAYLIST here

PINTEREST here

ABOUT DORA here

CONNECTIONS below ↓

GOOD FOR US --- dez / athena @swcrdsandshields

clicking quickly, dez and dora have developed a close friendship over the past year. it has been an unexpected bond but they have cultured a deep trust and respect in one another. don’t do dez dirty; dora will make your life a living hell.

♪ healing : fletcher no one said that it was easy tryna piece the broken pieces but that's the shit i’m working on the journey is a work of art

DIET ANARCHY --- alex / hermes @psychcpomp

what do you get when you add three heaps of comradery, two spoonful's of attitude problems and sprinkle of flirting into a big bowl of bravado? something like the friendship between alex and dora. don’t be stuck in a room with this pair. they will get you into trouble.

♪ flagpole sitta : harvey danger fingertips have memories mine can't forget the curves of your body and when i feel a bit naughty i run it up the flagpole and see who salutes but no one ever does

NO SLEEP CLUB --- kayn / acheron @infernalpxin + one slot [ open ]

dora has trouble sleeping sometimes: she has a nasty habit of doomscrolling through the news during the day then finding herself ruminating over all the injustices in the world right when she’s supposed to be at rest. this trio text, call and go on night time walks together while everybody else snoozes.

♪ lately : ed sheeran, devlin five o'clock with lights off interview with a vampire sleep is for the living and not a utensil that i require i swear i said that i'll sleep when i'm dead

WASTED YOUTH --- lucas / macaria @betancovrts

when she first moved to the island six years ago, dora and lucas had a fling. now you’re still buds but the type where you delete the kisses at the end of texts, make sure your emojis are friendly but not too friendly, flirt when drunk and your friends tease about what a cute pair you make. it’s a little awkward. will they? wont they?

♪ your best friend : boyish tell me "find a stranger" but nothing hurts more there you go i’m not your girlfriend we wasted nights pretending not to kiss when we walk home

BECAUSE I GOT HIGH --- one slot [ open ]

when she needs to chill, when she needs a break from everything, dora calls [ insert } and they go get abysmally stoned together. she finds [ insert ] easy to be around. they’re fun, understanding and don’t cause an ache in her chest. it’s a solid friendship.

♪ hits from the bong : cypress hill goes down smooth when i get a clean hit of the skunky, phunky, smelly green shit sing my song puff all night long

SPIRITUAL COMPASS --- harley / thanatos @mementomorifm

in her work at whispering willow, dora has heard many things, but she never met anyone she truly believed heard spirits until she met harley. she doesn’t have an explanation for his clairvoyance but she has sympathy for his situation. now they’re working together through divination practice to try find out the why.

♪ institutionalized : suicidal tendencies they say they're gonna fix my brain alleviate my suffering and my pain but by the time they fix my head mentally i'll be dead

DIAMONDS ARE A GIRLS BEST FRIEND --- bellamy / ares @shelvedsaints

dora wants a diamond lifestyle on a coal budget. she can’t make that happen... but she can befriend those who can. bellamy likes to pay her way into fancy events he attends, buy her dresses and shoes, go out for expensive brunches at cygnus. she gets things she can’t afford anymore and he gets interesting company. he’s curious about where she got her taste for the finer things.; she’s unwilling to confess she’s from the type of people he loathes.

♪ shampain : marina drinking champagne meant for a wedding toast to the bride, a fairytale ending drinking champagne, a bottle to myself savour the taste of fabricated wealth

REACTIVE --- one slot [ open ]

dora exploded on [ insert ]. it wasn’t just a bit of a bad mood, it was a full blown rage. they’ve had a falling out. when they get along, it’s great fun for everybody, but when they fight? run for the fire exit. neither of them know if they can make this friendship work.

♪ liability : lorde i understand, i'm a liability get you wild, make you leave i’m a little much for e-a-na-na-na, everyone the truth is i am a toy that people enjoy til all of the tricks don't work anymore

KNOW THE HAND YOU HOLD --- kayn / acheron @infernalpxin

you weren’t just a fling - this was a full-on, committed relationship of three years. dora is on good terms with kayn but they both know they’ll never get back together. it ended for a reason. still, the line between comfort and caressing is a blurred one...

♪ k goodnight : tim suby, jessie reyez goodnight up until you call broken hearts they love to hide in bathroom stalls yeah til you call, til you call say i don't care truth is i miss you

UNFAITHFUL --- rue / chloris @flcwerblessed

when rue first moved to island, after her ex had left, dora took advantage of her stranger status and had a fling with her, telling rue she was single when she was in fact in a relationship with kayn. this ended said relationship and they have all kept dora’s actions and the fling a secret since. she feels a lot of shame about it and hates that she got rue tangled up in her burn-it-all-to-the-ground moment.

♪ my heart has teeth - deadmau5 ft skylar grey you've never met someone like me my heart has teeth, my heart has teeth and it's looking for something to eat my heart has teeth, my heart has teeth

REASSURANCE --- mahalia / echo @ascreamingecho

dora and mahalia have been dating for six months but dora’s insecure. past relationships have taught her one thing: don’t trust anyone who says i love you first. her latent empathic touch makes this more complicated. if she senses negative emotion off hal, it can send her into a spiral. she’s scared to commit.

♪ it’s all in vain : wet ( lee bannon remix ) i don't believe you when you tell me that you love me most and tell me i'm the only one and i can't feel you when you're kissin' me and tellin' me that all my fears are in my head

GROUP THERAPY --- seven slots [ open ]

girlie got issues. taking a little bit of the good advice she’s routinely given, dora has joined a weekly group therapy session on the island. they paint stupid pictures and talk. what’s said in the circle stays in the circle but it’s been healthy for her to find people a little like herself. the fellowship of the fucked up: dora, [insert], [insert], [insert], [insert], [insert], [insert], and [insert].

♪ sit down : james those who feel the breath of sadness sit down next to me those who find they're touched by madness sit down next to me those who find themselves ridiculous sit down next to me

QUEEN’S QUITTERS --- harlow, infinite slots [ open ]

it’s said that people from the uk have a habit of travelling abroad just to find themselves amongst their own. there’s a grain of truth in that on magnetic island, at least, and dora was shocked to find out just how many fellow english people were around. so she created a club. it’s nothing serious, just a reason for them to come together every month at different locations around the island and chat shit about home.

♪ this is england : kano this is england, this is england where you could be a villain or a victim where you make money, make it out, avoid pen that's the idiot's guide to the manor my friend

PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT A SLOT FOR YOUR CHARACTER BY TUMBLR DM, ASK OR ON DISCORD @ANNIEISTIRED0001, THANK YOU!

#eternal! intro #FRIENDS & LOVERS : dora #CONNECTIONS : dora

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ch4nb4ng · 3 years

Text

Evil Roommate

pairing: leeknow x afab!reader, roommates enemies to lovers

warnings: softdom!lino, cheating (mentioned), making out, grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering penetration, cum play (?), praise

requested : yes!

word count 6.2k

summary: the new roommate was a handful. lazy, disrespectful, arrogant, and a whole bunch of other negative things. but wow, you were sexually frustrated and he, well, attractive, was an understatement.

“Can you actually like, wash your kitchen utensils when you're done using them?”

The amount of huffing and puffing you have heard from your new roommate in the past two weeks was ridiculous. If you had a dollar for every time he had gone against anything you had politely asked for, you would be rich by now, and definitely stable enough to move out and away from him.

“I will,” he mumbled, mouth stuffed with half of the carrot he was chewing on, very loudly, “can I not enjoy my food first?”

“No,” you replied without hesitation, giving the fakest of smiles in return, “you should do it before you eat.”

Another eye roll from Minho was like water off a duck’s back.

“I'd also appreciate it if you didn’t talk to me with your mouth full of food either.”

“What the fuck is your problem?”

You coughed, turning on your hills to face a very unimpressed roommate. His stare was eye shattering. Yes, he was very, no, extremely good looking. However, every single thing that made up his personality could not be more different to you. Sloppy, messy, lazy. Took no responsibility for any of his actions, especially the high pitch noises (that obviously were not his) you would hear from his room in the early hours of the morning. You would pinch your pillow together, praying extremely hard that the noise would stop, and by the time it did, you would get maybe 2, 3 hours of sleep. College was becoming tiring, not only from staying up to complete assessments, but the lewd noises you could hear from at least 2 people in his room. Your blunt attitude towards Minho’s unhygienic and disrespectful habits were definitely justified.

“What are you talking about?”

“Why do you nitpick everything I do?”

Your jaw dropped, completely dumbfounded.

“Me? Nitpicking you? Please,” you scoffed, “you don't clean up after yourself ever, you leave your dirty clothes everywhere, and don't even get me started on the fact that I barely get any sleep because of your wild sex adventures with other people that occur almost every weeknight, when you know I have to wake up early to go to class next day.”

A combination of frustration and exhaustion could be heard through the harshness of each breath. The smirk that appeared on his face was absolutely punch worthy. What on earth was there to be so cocky of?

“My wild sex adventures,” he paused taking a bite of the dreaded carrot, “please, tell me more about my wild sex adventures.”

His tongue was now obviously pressed against his cheek, a devil coated smile still very apparent on his face. The longer he was looking at you like that, the hotter your cheeks became. Pure anger began to course through you; all he had to do was sit there and look pretty. It was definitely enough for you to get the green light to slap him across the face.

“Shut the fuck up,” you hissed, “I don’t need to explain how I can hear them moaning your name every night, or the banging I hear from wall to-”

“Hmm,” he hummed, “you seem to be listening very well.”

Distracted by your anger for a brief moment, you gasped suddenly, feeling Minho’s fingertips at your sides. You turned around, swatting his hands away, giving him that slap that you felt you had earned across the face.

“Who the fuck said you could touch me?

“Did you just fucking slap me?”

“Yes I fucking did,” you spat, “what do you take me for?”

“You know what you’re right, but you walk around here with a stick up your ass. I hear you on the phone to your friends, complaining about how you don't get any action from anyone.”

You stood there in disbelief. “So you’ve been eavesdropping on my convos as well?”

“Well it’s kind of hard not to hear, you know, the walls in this house are kind of thin.”

Your jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed, the conversation was at a stand still.

“Can you get to the point please?”

“I sure can sweetheart,” the name sending a shiver down your spine, “if you're that sexually frustrated, go and do something about it instead of taking it out on me?”

A laugh that you didn't even know you were capable of bellowed from your chest. You stumbled back, grabbing onto stool behind the bench for support.

“Me? Sexually frustrated? Please,” you huffed, “I’m not sexually frustrated, and it definitely has nothing to do with you.”

Another scoff escaped your lips as you shuffled back to your room. Closing the door behind you, a heavy sigh came from your chest as you sat on the edge of your bed. How on earth was he able to read you like that? So well and so accurate? It was all you could think about, not to mention the fact that it was also night time simultaneously.

You let your body fall onto your bed sheets. The feeling of restlessness was consuming your body. As you crawled into bed, you looked straight into the ceiling. Why were you thinking about his words so much? Were you really taking it out on him? You shook your head, mentally slapping yourself for even considering the thought.

Minho was a lazy slob who was extremely inconsiderate of others, especially you. But why was the thought of his fingers on your sides becoming the main source of agitation.? The silence of your thoughts was deafening, but they were easily interrupted as soon as you heard the door open, a high pitched voice followed what felt like the most ludicrous creek you had ever heard. ‘I should really put some oil on the door huh?’ You paused for a couple of seconds, this time physically face palming yourself for the dumb excuse you had made to see who he had decided to bring over to accompany him tonight. Legs completely ignoring your brain, you were out of bed, hand twisting the knob and peeking a look at the poor girl that would be subjected to Minho’s torture tonight. Tip toeing out of the doorway, you kept the weight of a feather on your toes, making yourself as invisible as possible.

“Y/n?”

Your pink panther stance of attempted deception looked utterly ridiculous and not sly at all was extremely confusing to the two. You quickly relaxed into a normal stance, the fakest of smiles coming across your face as you see who it is he brought home to have his way with.

“Chaeyeon… heyyy,” you lingered, “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

You would have been happy with literally anyone else. But Chaeyeon? Chaeyeon? It’s like she was your number one arch rival. Minho knew how much you hated her, yet he still let her come over. Everything about her you could not stand, not to mention the fact that she home wrecked your last serious relationship. Even though it was a while ago, you can forgive but not forget, her face being a constant reminder of your hurtful past.

“Oh hey Y/N,” she almost signed, her amount of excitement to see you matching yours, “I didn’t know you lived here.”

The arm he had around her waist made you sick.

“There’s a lot of things you don't know about me,” you mumbled, foot swaying back and forth, eyes focused on said foot.

“Okay, so you guys have had a little reunion,” Minho interrupted. Anything would have been better to break the awkward silence than his sarcastic comments, “we’re gonna go to my room now.”

“NO!” you interjected, covering the hallway with every bit of your being, “I mean, what’s the rush huh? Changbin is coming over as well.”

You paused, Minho’s face clearly cussing you out if yelling was inappropriate at this current moment.

“Uh no thanks Y/N-”

“We should all hang out!”

The excitement coming from your voice was so inauthentic, it was hard to miss.

“Yeah! Let’s all hang out,” you walked behind them, placing a hand on each of their backs and you hurried them to the couch, “I’ll get some beers in the fridge.”

“I actually only drink vodka,” Chaeyeon yawns, obnoxiously twirling her hair, her other hand aggravatingly high on his thigh.

“Oh that’s totally fine,” you gritted through tightly clenched teeth, “we have a bottle in the fridge, I’ll grab that for you as well.”

You scuffled back over to the fridge, mentally cursing yourself as you grabbed the necessary beverages. The confusion you were giving yourself about why you were putting in so much effort to spend time with the two people you literally hated more than anything was mind baffling

“So,” you began again, passing a Corona to Minho, a glass to Chaeyeon, “how have you been finding your course so far?”

You sat the Smirnoff and Orange juice on the table. Yes, you were being nice, but not nice enough to pour the drink for this bitch.

“Oh it was so great,” she smiled, “Jisung and I were living together, it was, well, a dream really.”

The feeling of your nails became prominent in your fists as your fingers caved in. The mention of his name was enough to make you see red, let alone the idea of them being happily together. The itch of your eye begging to roll was becoming too prominent, so much that you had to get up and walk away for a second. You stood up abruptly, confusion etched into Minho’s features. You didn’t want to make this a big deal, but the fact that she continued to gloat about it, long after you stopped listening was enough to reach your breaking point.

“I think I heard my phone ringing from my room, it must be Changbin.”

“I don't think I hear anything,” Minho smirked, plastering his lips on the edge of the bottle. The way his lips wrapped around the tip of the warm glass was something you ‘accidentally’ became fixated on. You puffed your cheeks, storming to your room and somewhat aggressively shutting the door behind you. Scrambling for your phone on the bedside table, you panicked, unclear mind as you scrolled through your phone contacts. You paused, an inducing amount of oxygen filling up your lungs. It did little to calm the irritated tingling sensation in your fingers.

Changbin’s name had finally popped up on your phone after what had felt like a lifetime.

“Hello?”

His voice was husky, guilt panging your chest as you realsied you had probably woken him up from his not very often deep slumber.

“Changbin,” you gasped, “you know how much I love you right?”

“What do you need me to do?”

You snickered at his words. He had been your friend for too long to know that those words would never be said unless you needed something.

“Can you come over,” you pleaded, “Chaeyeon is here with Minho because he invited her over late at night, and I told them you were coming over?”

“Jesus Y/n,” Changbin sighed, a playful chuckle tickling your cheek, “so you want me to come over and make Minho jealous?”

“Wait no wtf,” you jumbled, “make Minho jealous? I just want you to flirt with me and Chaeyeon so she leaves.”

“Mhm yeah,” he chuckled once more, voice laced with sarcasm as he spoke, “I’ll come over, but if you don't sleep with him by the end of the night, I’m gonna be extremely disappointed.”

“Yeah okay whatever just get your ass over here now.”

And with that you abruptly ended the phone call, Changbin giving you no peace of mind. Were you this easy to read by everybody? A frustrated sigh exploded from your chest. The games your head and your heart were playing with were helping you come to no resolution. You sat on your bed, thoughts were running crazy. Now would be a really great time to just put on Netflix and curl into bed, have some snacks and fall asleep, chip trail on ur chest to be found in the morning.

You were interrupted by the very loud knock on the door. Sprinting like your life depended on it, you were relieved. Seeing Changbin’s face had never before given you so much joy.

“Changbin,” you shouted, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace.

“Y/n what are you doing-”

“Shut up and go along with it,” you mumbled into his chest, letting up, but still keeping your body tightly wounded against his. Minho’s jaw became clenched, or were you just imagining things?

Regardless of what it was, your brain quickly shifted to the way Chaeyeon was eyeing Changbin up and down, almost like it was the first time she had ever seen an attractive male. ‘She definitely wasn’t looking at Minho like that when he walked in’ you thought, an unconscious smirk coming to mouth. You bit down on your bottom lip, an extremely poor attempt at masking the satisfaction of your goal being achieved so easily. One step closer to kicking her out, for good, because there was no way you weren’t talking to Minho after this about making an explicit declaration of her abandonment from this house.

“Minho,” he smiled, earning a nod, “Chaeyeon,” he smirked, an almost gag spilling out of your mouth.

“Changbin,” she followed, repeating his smirk, “long time no see.”

She gulped, engulfing a large sip of alcohol into her wicked mouth.

“Let’s play a game!”

“A game,” you questioned, raising an eyebrow, “why would we play-”

“I think that’s a great idea!”

You turned to look at him, a puzzled expression still very apparent on your facial features.

“Get the vodka out from the fridge, and let’s get started.”

***

Two bottles of vodka down, and what looked like 8 bottles of Corona sitting empty on the table, the games that were being played were becoming more difficult to comprehend. Sound of giggle and laughter constantly filled the room as everyone slowly began to lose their minds to the intoxication.

“O-okay, never have I e-ever, done a sexual act in public.”

Filters of chuckles and laughter filled the room as everyone, but you took a sip.

“What?” she asked, offering you her fake sympathy, “you’ve never done anything like that before?”

“I-I mean,” you stuttered, the look of confusion was evident, “I don’t think I have-”

“Yes you have.”

All eyes were snapped open and pressing into Minho’s skull as he began to converse.

“Pfft, no I have not,” you scoffed, taking another swig. An eye roll left came from Minho, followed by a sound of what seemed to be disgust as he shot gunned his current bottle.

“Yes you have,” he nagged, playfully hitting your shoulder, “I saw you.”

Complete silence fell over the room as he words lingered in the air. You genuinely had no idea what he was talking about.The feeling of the room had suddenly changed. His eyes became soft, fixated on nothing but the way your body slumped against the rough material of the couch.

Your mind began to drift. Thoughts floating into earlier scenes of the night. The closeness of his breath fanning your neck ever so softly, palms spread across your hips. The idea of marks on you swimming into your head. God that would feel so good. Letting him grab you and throw you onto his bed. Climbing up your frame, starting from the bottom of your legs, keeping a tight grip on your inner thighs. The feeling of faint lips stealing every inch of your being, tantalisingly hitting every, single, spot, finally reaching your-

“Y/N? Y/N!”

The feeling of Changbin's shaking your shoulders definitely brought you back to reality. His hands did feel nice, but they weren’t the ones you were longing for. Your head was thrown back, disbelief filling you as your mind continued to fill the gutter.

“When?”

As you moved closer, you giggled, placing your finger tip across his knee. You let them dance, index fingers tapping away at the skin you so desperately wanted to see in this moment.

“Mr. Lee Minho, when did you see me?”

“I’m not saying it here in front of-”

“Who? Chaeyeon?”

Your prowling continued, bodies even closer as you slowly began to climb him like an inanimate object. This would have been completely awkward sober. Nothing about this was romantic in the slightest. To an outsider, or Changbin and Chaeyeon, you were right there, situated across Minho’s lap. It wasn’t quite a straddle, it was just something. They both stayed quiet, paying little attention to your animalistic act, already focused on feeling each other up. Or so you assumed, seeing as they didn’t say anything. All that was heard was the sound of the front door. You snapped your head for a quick moment, eyes scanning the emptiness the room suddenly felt.

“It was in the car.”

Minho’s words felt heavy, like he had more to say.

“The car?”

You were taken aback, face moving away from the closeness of his. Part of your brain clicked, remembering exactly what he was talking about. With Jisung. The memory of hurt was quickly forgotten as the feeling of Minho’s palms spread across your body was bringing you to life. The adrenaline came all at once. Your mind was telling you to move away, but your body was saying something else, affirming it’s position.

Minho was leaning in, barely any spaces between the two as his fingertips began to spread lower and lower, firmly gripping either side of your ass as he moved you closer. A helpless whimper escaped your lips as you felt your legs tighten, heat running down to your core, quickly. What the fuck was happening right now?

“You were on top of him,” he whispered, pulling your hips against him once more, “just like this.”

“F-fuck,” was all that managed to slip out of your lips. This was becoming difficult. So difficult to say no and move away. You knew it was the right thing to do. Things would just be awkward and you could go back to hating him. No matter how much you tried, how much you wanted to, you were powerless. Every fiber of your being was being given up to him. You leaned in closer, foreheads now touching as you looked at him. His gaze was anything but lacklustre as his jaw became tense. His body began to ache simultaneously with yours. The pressure was becoming too much.

“Do you want this?”

“What?”

A small whine escaped you at the loss of his tips gripping your body. They quickly made their way to either side of your face. Your body began to rock back and forth on it’s own. You had become desperate for any sort of friction that you could create.

“I said, do you want this?”

“Do you?”

His expression made you nervous. It was hard to read. All you could see was the black substance of his pupils enlarge, increasing in diameter by the second. Almost like a supernatural being was possessing him.

“Fuck,” you grunted, wrapping your hands around his neck to steady yourself on top of him, “you’re making it hard to say no.”

Things were already becoming hazy the longer you stayed. A huff of frustration came from him as he was giving all his effort not to give into the way you were rubbing your dampening heat against him. It was like a drug he could not refuse.

“Kiss me if you want me.”

He huffed, the edge of his lips just barely brushing against the tip of your nose.

“Kiss me, and give me the green light.”

You waited a moment, any part of your brain that wasn't concentrated solely on his palms digging into your sides trying to reason. You looked at him once more. His eyes, nose, lips. His lips.

“Fuck it.”

He was quick to work, pushing you down to lie flat against the couch. A small kiss to your lips was felt as he pulled away, lifting his arms up and throwing his shirt to the floor at Usain Bolt pace. The smirk on your face was too easy for him not to see.

“You like what you fucking see don’t you?”

“Just shut the fuck up and kiss me.”

Of course. Of course he was still that arrogant cocky motherfucker that you could not stand. The one who never cleaned up after himself. Or took too long in the shower for the hot water to run out. All of these evil perceptions you had of your roommate were disappearing as his lips were gently placed onto yours. It was a little too slow for your liking, but it was deep. Boy, was it deep. Each movement of his tongue was made with so much precision as he lowered himself onto you. His thighs were clenched, a soft groan could be heard against his lips as his groin pressed into you. Holy fuck, were you really doing this? It was so wrong. Everything in the world was saying to stop, stop this.

“Mm- wait,” you paused your hands on his chest to push him away, “wait.”

A flash of panic waved over his eyes as he quickly jumped off of you, face palming the floor.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you-”

“I’m fine,” you interjected, giggling at the never been seen care and caution he had for you, “I just don’t think we should do this.”

“Oh,” was all he could say. You kept your gaze lowered; looking at him would have made you feel so guilty. The feeling of regret started to seep into your bones, but you couldn't tell: was it regret of this ever happening, or was it regret from stopping? Your head was too muddled to even attempt to comprehend what had just appended. The only sound that could be heard was your scuffed footsteps, quickly pacing back to your room and shutting the door, hard. The loudest sigh known to earth could be heard on the opposite side of the room as you let your body collapse. The ache between your legs was growing by the second; and as much as you tried to suppress the feeling of Minho’s lips on yours, fingertips dragging along your sides. No. It was much easier this way. Setting boundaries as roommates seemed to be a better idea for the long run.

But the long run was boring. You would both have to pretend that this never happened. Having other people over for sexual purposes would just be awkward now; the more you thought about it, the realisation, and the jealousy hit that you had already crossed said boundary. And maybe that’s why your feet had dragged you to the front of his bedroom door. How the fuck did you get here? You brought your knuckles to the wooden frame, door becoming slightly ajar as you gently knocked. Minho’s snapped his head around, covering himself quickly as you walked in. You cocked your eyebrow, a face of confusion apparent on your face.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he huffed, turning back to his previous position, “what do you want?”

You wanted to just walk out. Mind your business and just leave. But it was hard, quite literally. The imprint of what you assumed to be Minho’s naked lower half painfully pressing into the sheer sheets that was covering him. He paid you no more attention, giving you all the power to initiate whatever it is you wanted to initiate. You slowly crept in beside him, nuzzling your head into the back of his neck as he groaned in annoyance.

“Y/n, what the fuck are you doing in my bed?”

“Hmm, I think I changed my mind,” you whispered, reaching around to grab him. A blunt hiss escaped Minho’s lips as your action made him turn around. He was so close to you now. So close that you could feel his breath spreading across your left cheek.

“Are you being serious right now?”

The look on his face was unimpressed to say the least.

“Yeah, I mean,” your voice was calm as your hand began to take flight, sliding down to the base of his shaft, “we’ve already crossed the line, let’s go a little further.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. He grabbed you by the wrist that was currently on him, pulling it away and climbing on top of you. Both hands now leaving his side, securely attached onto both wrists as he pinned them down above your head. Nose clumsily tickling yours as he reattached his lips to yours. The feeling of his lips was much softer and calmer than before, almost like he was protecting you. Wanting to keep the moment so delicate, though the way his bare hips involuntarily grinding against your clothed core was far from it. A soft whimper came from your lips, vibrating against his. A soft chuckle was heard from Minho as he pulled away; it made you nervous. To be more specific, the way that arrogant, mischievous smirk that you knew all too well was spread across his face.

“You’re so responsive to me,” he growled, quickly planting another one on your lips before sliding down to your jaw, then your neck, stopping at your chest. Nothing needed to be said as you quickly discarded your shirt, silently thanking your past self for not wearing any underneath. Minho situated himself in front of your now bare chest, waist sitting against your heart as he took one nipple into his mouth, fingers enclosing around the other. A loud whine left your lips, back arching in reaction to him. He looked up, satisfied filling his body as you weren’t able to return his gaze, head already rolled all the way back as he continued his playful assault.

“It’s so cute,” he mumbled between kisses, “so responsive and I’ve barely done anything.”

His lips travelled down the center of your stomach, dipping dangerously closer to where you wanted him most. His continuous rhythm between kisses was immaculate. Any of the incoherent sounds you made, or the crude remarks he made were left unsaid.

“Fuck,” you hissed, painfully throbbing at the way Minho played with the waistband of your panties.

“Not fun to be teased y/n,’ he paused, making sure you were looking at him, “is it.”

A pang of guilt hit your chest for a moment. I mean, it’s not like you did it on purpose, right?

“Minho I’m-”

“Save it,” he scoffs, “whether you did it on purpose, or not, I’m not gonna let you have it so easily.”

His fingers stopped their performance across your hips, continuing a little lower than before. The smirk came to his lips once more, index finger running down your slit. The friction was fierce, but not fierce enough. You wanted, no, you needed more. All he could do was smile at your mercy.

“So fun to tease darling, but you’re gonna have to be more vocal if you want these panties off.”

“Minho please,” you whined, “for fucks sake.”

You bucked your hips forward, desperate for any more contact from the bare minimum he was giving you.

“That doesn’t sound very nice to me.”

“Minho please, please, please,” you whispered, voice becoming super weak, “fuck me, or finger me, anything please, I need to feel you.”

“Now that’s more like it,” he smiled, finally pulling your panties down. You have never lifted your hips faster in your life. The vulnerability of your naked body was somewhat confronting, but your brain was so fogged out from the immense teasing, you cared little.

“Fuck,” he gasped, spreading you effortlessly with two fingers, “you’re so wet for me, aren't you?”

The heat in your cheeks rose as you became embarrassed at his words. Minho didn’t know this, but feeling humiliated was something that could make you cum on the spot. Words intended for insult went through your ears and straight down to the core, the heat becoming like an intense fire igniting in your body as one of his hands moved along your inner thigh, the other gently beginning to circle around where you needed him most.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “oh my god Minho please, more.” Your voice was becoming needier by the second, but the longer it went on, the less you seemed to care. His tongue was now a factor coming into play, small kitty licks lapping your clit at a suddenly fast pace. Your legs are already trembling, but Minho does more to appease, hooking his arms under and around your thighs to stop the flustered look on your face. It was confronting how quickly he was getting you to your high.

“Please,” you sighed, eyes hazed as you attempted to look down at the way his tongue was on you. The combination of him sucking on your clit, then pushing it through your entrance almost made you scream. However, the noises that came from your mouth were small, heavy pants, progressively getting louder and louder the tighter the knot in your stomach became.

“Do you wanna cum princess?” His voice was whiny, mocking the tone you had used earlier. You nodded ferociously, knowing any attempt to speak would come out horse or just broken.

“Such a good girl,” he purred, replacing his tongue with two fingers, “but if you want to cum, you’re gonna have to beg for it once more.”

“You’re such a fucking dick,” you groaned, an attempt of grinding your center onto Minho’s fingers failing miserably, “you’re being so unfair.”

“I’m unfair?” he scoffed, beginning his digits back to a bare minimum pace, “you’re the one

who was teasing me all night. I know Changbin is like, your best friend so there was no chance you were bringing him back to fuck him. Then you start to kiss me, hard and fast may I add, AND THEN ! you aren’t sure and you leave me to pretend like nothing happened.”

There was no witty comeback you could say in response because he was right. You were the one who has done the teasing for most of the night.

“You looked so fucked out right now baby,” his tone coming back to a calming medium, “begging for me to make you cum, which I can do right now,” he paused, climbing back to your side, lifting your left leg to continue his easy access to ur clit, “or you can beg even more to have my cock inside of you. The choice is yours.” You swallowed, hard. How could he say something so filthy? Out of all the times you had heard him bring other girls over, he would never talk like this. It was always so nice and calm, full of praise and compassion. Maybe they didn’t act like cock teases and let him just have what he wanted.

“C-cock,” you mumbled, pushing your backside against his now pulsating cock, “please give your cock sir.”

“Ooo sir, I like that one, but you’re gonna have to do more if you want me to fill you up princess.”

Words were becoming extremely hard to not only facilitate in your mind, but put them on your tongue and get out to him. He knew this. He knew your were on the brink of collapsing in cum, but the torture was too entertaining for him nonetheless. Although you're frustrated with him was increasing, you couldn’t lie to yourself that the way he was using you like a sex toy was turning you on. After being up his ass so long with rules around the house and how you wanted things done, it was nice to finally let go. Submit to his rules instead of yours.

“P-please Minho, sir’ you panted, head turning to look at the sadistic face of enjoyment he was having from this, “I’ll do anything, a-anything to have your cock inside of me right now.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Okay then tomorrow morning, you have to make me breakfast, AND wash my dishes.”

“Seriously,” you panted, “that’s what you're thinking about right now?”

“You said anything.” He shrugged, suddenly taking his fingers away from your dripping core. A gasp of disappointment came to your lips at the loss of delicious contact. Minho sat up, ducking under your leg, and positioning himself right back to where he was previously. However, this time, he was on his knees. Although you were touching it before, you really hadn't had a chance to look at how big it was: way more than what you expected. He stroked himself a couple of times, making sure not to get carried away with himself before he pushed it between your folds, letting his pre-cum mix with your juices. He slowly descended into you. Jaws dropping simultaneously, you gasped. The way he was stretching you out did burn a little bit, but once he was fully inside, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Minho waited until the look of slight discomfort faded from your features.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip and he slowly pulled himself back out. He kept a consistent, yet slow pace as leaned in closer to you. He was now hovering over, letting his face become buried into the middle of your breasts. The feeling was so immaculate, you were desperate to cling onto something for support.

“Dig them into me,” he groaned, strangling his vocal cords, “dig your nails into my back and scratch me like your life fucking depends on it.”

Perfect. You did as he pleased, a loud moan of his name wrestling from your lips as you felt the red marks appear on his backside. The pressure from before was already building in your stomach again, and he could tell. The way you were super tight for him was one, but the way you were now clenching around him was another. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer if you kept doing that.

“Fuck,” was all you could manage to say, a deep grin plastered on his face.

“You’re close aren't you,” he cooed, attaching his lips to your neck, “talk to me baby, tell me what you're feeling.

“Mhm, yeah, fuck I’m so close baby. H-Harder.”

The pitch of your tone was becoming whinier by the second. To add to that, the way you became confused, as if Minho was a vampire, because the way he was sucking on your neck was kind of painful. Nevertheless, you relished in it, knowing too well that a very, very dark mark would replace his mouth. The idea of him showing his possession of you, knowing that he finally won you over did not make you happy, nonetheless, you were too fucked out to care.

Your legs were now pushed all the way back, pace fastening by the minute, allowing Minho to push even deeper into you. And that was it. Right there, the spot you had never even known was even there.

“Ah fuck!” Your moan was loud this time, completely unable to control anything. The smirk, in combination with the satisfied growl that left his lips was a face of pure ecstasy as he realised that he had finally hit your G-spot.

“Fuck that feels so fucking good,” Minho grumbled, “are you close? Because I think I’m gonna cum.”

It was like your stomach was an orchestra. Minho’s words were the conductor, completely controlling how close you were to your release.

“Y-yes,” you cried, “I’m gonna cum so hard right now.”

“You wanna cum baby?”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna cum right now?”

“Yes baby,” you pouted, a perplexity of sounds escaping your lips, completely out of your control.

“Cum on my cock princess,” Minho whispered through what sounded to be like pained groans, “be a good girl and cum with me inside of you.”

And there it was, like it was on queue as your body completely flopped, legs shaking and a string of lewd curse words fell from your lips. The way your pussy clenched around him was enough to make him pull out, spilling into the dip of your stomach. A loud breath of what seemed to be exhaustion fell from his lips. Your eyes were previously screwed so shut, it hurt when you opened them again, sensitive to the light.

“Fuck,” you both cursed simultaneously, making one another giggle. Minho fell to your left side, flat on his back as he invited you to scooch over next to him. Face pressed against his chest, fingers playfully dragging up and down his torso. For some reason, he felt so safe and secure at this moment. Almost forgetting how he literally just fucked you into oblivion, your eyelids become heavy. It wasn’t until Minho spoke that you were revived from your alternate state of consciousness once more.

“I didn’t know you had it in you.” His voice sounded genuinely surprised, unsure if you should be offended or not. You looked up at him, quickly pressing a kiss to his cheek. He wasn’t sure how to react, but the dark shade tinting his face right now said enough.

“Please,” you scoffed, “You did me good, but was that the best you can do?”

He ran his tongue across his bottom lip, but down on it after, “Is that a challenge?”

You said nothing, instead sitting up and pushing your legs on either side of his hips. A soft moan escaped his lips as he felt your still dripping heat sitting on the base of him.

“Why don’t you find out and see?”

#lee minho #minho #leeknow #stray kids #lino #lee minho smut #skz smut #leeknow scenario #stray kids smut #stray kids scenario #dom leeknow #dom lee minho #dom lino #lino smut #ch4nb4ng

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kurosukii · 3 years

Text

𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥

pairing: matsukawa issei x f!reader

summary: you’re so glad that you married a loving and doting man who cares for your child as if she’s his own flesh and blood; you just didn’t expect that his son would take a certain liking to you as well...

genre: smut, stepcest au

warnings: 18+. noncon/dubcon, pseudoincest (stepcest), somnophilia, dubcon cheating, milf reader, use of ‘mommy’ (not in the femdom way), creepy and possessive issei, slight voyeurism and exhibitionism, body image issues, corruption, manipulation, panty sniffing, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, unprotected sex, mutual masturbation, spitting, degradation, praise, size kink, breeding kink, biting, nipple play, oral (f receiving), humping, cockwarming, cumplay, creampie, overstimulation, mating press, doggy style

word count: 6.4k

author’s note: for @karasunosimp‘s it’s raining milk collab! thank you for letting me join! hehe so it’s another stepcest au,,, also i’ve already written for 3/4 of the seijoh four EEK (let me know if i missed any warnings!) (MINORS DNI)

° thank you to @meiansmistress @ssrated1volleyballplayer @bokuroskitten @anime-nymph for beta-reading and editing! <33

[11:53 AM]

“have fun at the amusement park! stay safe and always listen to your dad, okay?” you say sweetly to your jumping daughter.

you giggle at her excitement, your heart and cheeks warming when you see her eyes twinkling with unbridled joy as she holds her stepdad’s finger with her entire hand.

“bye mommy! i’ll see you later when we get back! have fun with nii-chan!” she answers loudly, squealing when your husband picks her up and twirls her around as they walk down the path to the car.

you wave them off, returning inside and closing the door with a click. you wince at the sound, louder now that your daughter’s giggles and squeals are gone.

meanwhile, issei leans against the wall with his thick arms crossed as he shamelessly looks you over from head to toe. he slowly licks his bottom lip, clearly liking what he sees.

you’re now hyper aware of your bare nipples brushing against the fabric of your shirt, and paired with the flimsy linen shorts you’re wearing, the room definitely feels hotter with the sexual tension that’s permeating the air

sexual tension that you’ve been blatantly ignoring ever since you married into the matsukawa household.

“why are you always so nervous around me, mommy?” issei asks, feigning innocence. his eyes twinkle and lips stretch into a smirk when he sees your breath hitch.

you don’t bother to grace him with an answer, heavy lump forming in your throat as you speed walk past him and into the kitchen.

he chuckles at your reaction and pushes himself off the wall, following you as his eyes watch your swaying hips. issei is hungry and it has more to do with the woman in front of him rather than the steaming plate of food on the table.

after you’re done fixing up the table and finally take a seat, you pray to any higher being within earshot to ask for strength in dealing with your wayward stepson.

you really don’t like being alone with him and it’s not because you don’t want to be around him. it’s because you’re afraid of what he might do to you.

you weren’t born yesterday and you’ve lived a long enough life to know when a man is looking at you like he wants to spread your legs and pound you until you’re a writhing mess underneath him.

because that’s how issei looks at you and he’s not ashamed about it either. it genuinely shocks you because his father—your husband—can be in the room and issei will still undress you with his eyes.

you thought you were being delusional at first, ashamed at how you secretly accused your husband’s son of leering at and having inappropriate thoughts about you.

it turned out that you weren’t wrong, however, because you came home one afternoon to get something you left, expecting that no one would be there so imagine your shock when you passed by issei’s slightly opened door and heard him pleasuring himself.

you were about to run back downstairs until you heard him groan your name as he was stroking his cock. you choked out a gasp as you stood by his door. he was naked, tanned body glistening with sweat as he fucked his hand.

you couldn’t help but gape at his thick and long cock—bigger than your husband’s, as much as you were ashamed to admit—and you watched him for a few minutes, panties drenched with how much slick and pre-cum was leaking out of issei’s, for lack of a better word, horsecock.

your face burned when his hips jerked and he sprayed his cum all over himself, moaning your name long and hard as his body twitched from the stimulation.

needless to say, you went back to work with soiled panties and a hot face, not knowing that watching issei masturbate to the thought of you would be the turning point that led to the taboo relationship with your stepson.

the sound of utensils falling and clanging break you from your memories; your face burns at being caught red handed and you squirm uncomfortably in your seat.

issei apologizes for the disturbance and continues eating, never failing to wink every time you glance at him. he knows the effect he has on you and he relishes in it, teasing his stepmom endlessly.

he can’t wait to expose you for the little whore you actually are, and what better than to seize the opportunity of the both of you having the house all to yourselves?

“your little one and my dad are out bonding in the amusement park and i know for sure that they’ll be there all the way into the night,” he says, setting down his utensils and wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

the movement of his hands causes the many rings on his fingers to reflect against the light and he looks at you from under his thick lashes, brown eyes smoldering with shameless desire.

“so why don’t we do some bonding too?” he asks and chuckles when you choke on your food. he reaches for your cup of water and hands it to you, thick and ring-clad fingers brushing against yours as you take it from him.

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you, mommy?” he whispers, his voice raspy and deep. you shiver at his sensual tone, fingers gripping the cup hard. you clear your throat loudly after swallowing, willing yourself to ignore his advances and innuendos.

“i’m tired, issei. i’m going to take a nap after eating,” you say sternly, glaring when he seems not to take you seriously. he laughs lowly, letting out an okay, whatever you say, before standing up and stretching.

your cheeks warm when he groans, similar to the one you heard before, and you jump out of your chair and begin to gather all the plates and leftover food.

“let me clean up, hmm? you did all the cooking and prepping. ” issei stops you with a large hand on your forearm. his skin is hot to the touch but his rings feel cool, the juxtaposition making you lightheaded.

he’s breathing down on you, large body covering yours while his intoxicating scent invades your senses. you shake your head and mumble out a garbled ‘thank you’ before you leave the kitchen and issei, practically sprinting up the stairs and towards the room you share with your husband.

you close the door once you’re inside, breathing heavily as you hear your heartbeat in your ears. damn him, you growl in your head. you ought to give him an earful about personal spaces and appropriate manners.

you sigh loudly as you walk to the dresser, intent on changing into your silky nightgown for your midday nap. you wear the garment to help you feel attractive, despite your age and changed body. you remove your shirt over your head and shiver when you see how hard and pebbled your nipples are.

even though your mind refuses to succumb to issei, your body is a whole different story. you wince when you remove your shorts and feel the dampness in your panties, making shame and guilt course through you as you put on your nightgown.

of all the people in the world, only your husband should make you feel this way. no one else, and certainly not his son. what would he think of you? what would your daughter think of you?

fuck, why are you even allowing yourself to think like this?

you know that if you ask issei to stop acting inappropriately towards you, he would listen—wouldn’t he?

you know the reason why you allowed this whole forbidden staring and teasing to go on for so long was because you felt lonely. which angers you, because you have a loving husband and you couldn’t ask for anything more.

but he didn’t exactly make you feel desired. sure, you’ve been intimate with him but he didn’t look at you the way you want to be looked at—like you’re the sexiest woman he’s ever seen. you feel ashamed, as if all the attention and love your husband gives means nothing to you.

as someone who has gone through major bodily changes, the ugly face of insecurity easily rears its head when you look at yourself in the mirror—but that doesn’t mean you regret having your daughter, not at all.

it’s just one of those things that has been ingrained in you and you find it hard to escape. which is why whenever issei looks at you with hungry eyes, you can’t help but feel wanted, desired.

it’s as if he doesn’t care about the extra weight you put on or the stretch marks on your body—no, he doesn’t care about any of that. you wouldn’t have believed it if it weren’t for his incessant teasing and the fact that he masturbates to the thought of you.

but you know it’s wrong, that it can never be. you sigh dejectedly as you lie down on the soft and cold bed, staring up at the ceiling. you have to talk to issei about this whole game and tell him to stop it before his father finds out.

and issei’s molten brown eyes are the last thing you think of before you finally close your eyes.

issei hums as he wipes his hands on the towel, looking in the direction you ran off. he smirks to himself as he puts back on his rings, body brimming with excitement and desire. time to pay you a visit.

he walks up the stairs, footsteps loud in the quiet house. he finds himself right in front of your door and leans his ear on the wood. he’s met with silence as he slowly turns the knob and enters the dimly lit room.

his eyes immediately find your sleeping form and he feels his cock stir in his pants, making the fabric tighten around his crotch.

fuck, you’re so god-damn beautiful.

long legs carry him over to you. he puts one knee on the bed, making it dip as his long fingers caress your cheek. his rings complement your complexion, his thumb and index finger lightly squeezing your parted lips.

he watches in fascination as your eyelashes flutter against your cheek and his cock twitches again when he hears your little whimper as he plays with your slightly damp lips.

his fingers continue their ministrations as his sharp eyes travel down your form, smirking when he sees your nipples poking through the silky fabric. to his delight, he notices your nightgown riding up your body, revealing the frilly white cloth of your panties.

he groans softly as his cock hardens and the bed dips even more as he puts his whole weight on it. he stops his movements on your face and maneuvers himself until his large body is over you.

his eyes burn holes through your panties and his breathing becomes heavier. god, he knows it’s wrong to touch and feel you up while you’re sleeping, but you’re so fucking breathtaking and he can’t help himself. after all, he’s been waiting for an opportunity like this to happen.

there’s a slight tremor in his hands as they hover over the exposed skin of your thighs. he lays them gently on your skin and he groans lowly in his throat. fuck, you’re so smooth and soft.

he squeezes them a few times before he gently pries your legs open, watching your reaction carefully in case you wake up. your breaths are still even and he takes that as a signal to spread your legs wider, raising them until your feet are planted on the bed.

he bites his lower lip to stifle his groan once he sees the wet patch on the center of your frilly panties. you’re such a fucking whore and he knows that it’s for him and only him.

he positions his body until he’s lying on his stomach, slightly rutting the bed to relieve the tension in his cock. his head moves between your legs, directly in front of your heated and covered pussy.

you stir slightly when you feel a breeze on your exposed skin, making issei stiffen. you settle down and he sighs in relief, thinking fuck it before he inhales the scent of your arousal.

he growls lowly in his throat at your smell, sticking out his tongue and licking a long and wet stripe up your covered slit. you moan softly, but that doesn’t deter issei from groaning into your cunt.

he raises his body and sits up on his haunches, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties. he slowly pulls them down and his eyes practically glow as he sees your bare pussy for the first time.

his throbbing cock twitches when he sees a string of slick connecting your cunt to your panties. he gently lifts your hips and stretches your legs so he can remove the soiled underwear, watching your sleeping face carefully before positioning your legs again.

he knows he’s a disgusting man, but what can he do when you’re offering yourself up so sweetly to him?

he bunches the fabric in his hand, ringed fingers making an indent on the cotton as he brings it up to his nose, closing his eyes as he inhales deeply.

he growls at your fresh scent, his body tensing at the new wave of arousal that drenched your panties. he watches as you squirm and move around, rubbing your thighs together as you whimper quietly in your sleep.

his eyes flash. is his naughty stepmom having a wet dream? that explains why your panties feel wetter in his hand...

well, issei is nothing but a man who makes women’s dreams come true, and it just so happens that you’ve captured his attention—and quite frankly, his dick.

he throws your panties to the floor after a few more sniffs and quickly dives back between your legs. he’s up close to your naked pussy, pupils blown wide as he stares at your hole that’s clenching around nothing.

you’re wet but not wet enough by his standards, so he gathers all the saliva he has in his mouth and parts your folds with two thick fingers. he spits on your cunt, the little sound coursing through the quiet room.

he watches intently as the globule of spit slides down your lower lips and you shiver, moaning at the cold feeling between your legs. you squirm more as your mind gets filled with a certain haziness, unable to distinguish what’s real and what’s a dream.

throwing caution out the window, issei wastes no time and finds your clit, suckling it into the damp heat of his mouth. he groans at the taste of your pussy, his hips rutting the bed once more.

the vibrations from his lips make you moan loudly and arch into issei’s mouth. your eyes are squeezed tightly as you thrash around the bed, making you instinctively close your legs, squeezing issei’s head between them.

his hands grab your thighs, the cold rings on his fingers digging into your skin as he pries them open. he shakes his head with your clit in his mouth, making you cry out and tremble.

god, your dream feels so fucking real. you’ve never felt pleasure like this before and you love it. your fingers grip the sheets as you involuntarily roll your hips, following the motions of issei’s tongue and lips.

his chin is drenched with his saliva and your juices as the bed creaks from the rutting of his hips. frankly, he doesn’t care how loud and sloppy he’s being if it means you’re this responsive.

issei lets go of one thigh and moves his arm under him while his mouth continues to suck and lick your clit. he watches through his lashes as your chest rises and falls quickly, cute moans falling from your mouth.

the silk of your nightgown is dark with how heated your body is, your sweat dampening the fabric. your nipples are so hard that they’re poking through the garment.

his tongue flicks against your puffy clit as he slowly inserts two fingers—the ones that aren’t adorned with rings—into your leaking cunt.

the feeling of his long fingers inside your pussy makes you cry out and your toes curl from the full feeling. the new stimulation and volume of your pleasured sounds awakens you, your foggy eyes wide and confused.

you’re still groggy when you sit up and lean on your hands, your mind processing what’s happening when you realize that it wasn’t a dream at all.

no, it’s real and issei’s really between your legs, lapping away and fingering your aching pussy. your mind clears and you choke out a gasp in between your moans as you watch him in shock.

issei watches the emotions cross your face the whole time and his chest puffs out, his ego rising knowing that he��s the one doing this to you.

your frantic eyes meet his and he winks slyly. you tug at his hair ready to pull his head and mouth off of you because this is so wrong, but he beats you to it. his tongue swirls and flicks faster at your pulsing bud, his fingers increasing their thrusting.

now that you’re awake, he doesn’t have to care about his volume anymore so he lets out loud groans and grunts, the vibrations reverberating through you and making your pussy tingle.

“issei, t-this is wrong! s-top! stop!” you beg, voice immediately turning into a loud moan when he ignores you and bobs his head faster.

he moans to himself, knowing that your body is betraying you because although you’re begging him to stop, your hand is tugging his hair as you desperately fuck his face and fingers.

you taste so good that he can’t stop even if he wanted to.

“i-i mean it! get off—oh my god!” you scream when he gives your clit a hard suck. coupled with the squelching sounds and speed of his thrusting fingers, you cum all over his mouth.

you breathe heavily, face flushed and blissed out as you watch issei kiss your inner thighs before rising between your legs.

his mouth and chin are glistening with your cum and his pink tongue darts out to lick his lips clean of your juices, groaning as he meets your eyes.

you notice the dark patch on his crotch and your cheeks flame when you realize that he came the same time as you, but that doesn’t ease your worries because his cock is still hard and twitching.

once you regain some of your bearings, you realize what exactly just occurred and you let out a little scream as you try to scramble away from issei, shame filling your body.

he doesn’t let you get away from him, however, because he immediately pushes you on your back and crashes his swollen lips to yours.

you yelp at the sudden movement and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, grinding his hard cock on your wet and leaking pussy, further drenching the fabric of his pants.

you taste your essence as he massages his tongue with yours. you moan, tugging at his messy curly hair, trying and failing to pull him off you.

his hands find purchase on your thighs and he squeezes them, making you shiver at his cold rings. you whimper when he wraps your legs around his waist, grinding into you with a force harder than before.

your saliva mixes with his as the lewd clicking sounds of your mouths fill your ears. issei grinds on you one last time before he lifts his head from yours, lips separating with a trail of spit connecting them.

satisfied with kissing you, he stares at your face, gaze smoldering. you try to push him off you, but to no avail. he only tightens your legs around his waist as you struggle against him.

you suck in a breath as you feel the heat of his cock directly on your naked pussy. issei smirks lazily at you, tutting at you as if you’re inconveniencing him. your hands tug at his hair more, desperately trying to anchor yourself.

“if i had known your pussy tastes that sweet, my face would stay buried between your legs for the rest of my days,” he says suavely, his tongue darting out and licking his lips as he looks at yours.

you moan softly at his words and you’re now keenly aware of your nightgown sticking to your skin, making you uncomfortable as your nipples brush against the sweaty fabric. issei notices your discomfort and clicks his tongue.

“i think you’ve been hiding your pretty tits from me for far too long,” he whispers, his hot breath caressing your face. his hands move from your thighs and his fingers hook under the straps of your nightgown.

you shiver underneath him as his hands remove the sweaty fabric from your body, ring-clad fingers ghosting the sensitive skin of your arms.

you whine in distress as issei discards your nightgown somewhere behind him. you’ve never felt so exposed, your bare and glistening body being scrutinised by his dark eyes.

your insecurities start to get the better of you and you move your arms to cover your breasts and mound. issei stops you, large hands putting your arms back to your side.

“don’t hide from me, baby,” he whispers, his head dipping as he kisses the crook of your neck. his hands go to your chest and he palms both of your aching tits, squeezing and kneadingthe soft skin.

you moan, arching into the warm and cool feeling of his fingers. issei continues sucking and leaving marks on the skin of your neck as he whispers his thoughts.

“i know my dad doesn’t fuck you the way you deserve to be fucked,” he claims, making you squirm under his body that’s still clothed.

shame momentarily disappearing, you claw at his shirt and pants. he chuckles at your impatience and his hands leave your breasts for a moment, removing his shirt in record time.

he gets off the bed and makes quick work of his pants, kicking them off and quickly returning to the bed—to you. he didn’t give you the chance to look at his hard cock—not that you needed to anyway, because you already know what it looks like.

you yelp when issei puts his arms around you and settles you down on his lap, giving you a clear view of his cock that’s bobbing against his defined abdomen.

you gulp, nervousness filling your body as you stare at his large cock. seeing it up close is absolutely different—it’s longer and thicker than any other dick you’ve ever seen.

issei’s ego rises as he watches you. he’s always been proud of his size but seeing you? the object of his and his dick’s affections sitting on his lap? well, that’s enough to boost any man’s ego.

“see what you do to me?” he asks, guiding your hand to his throbbing cock. you whimper when you hold his shaft, your hand barely wrapping around him. issei hisses at the feeling of your soft hand touching his sensitive skin.

“you’re so fucking sexy and i can’t stop thinking about how you’d look like bouncing on my cock,” he admits, urging you to stroke his dick faster.

you slowly pump his shaft and moan when you feel his fingers—the same ones from before—find your swollen clit, slowly circling the pulsing bud. your free hand squeezes his shoulder as his fingers move faster.

you squeal when he inserts two fingers inside your cunt, making your hand squeeze his cock. he groans in at the stimulation, making his abs clench.

“i-ssei!” you whine, head thrown back as he pumps his fingers into you faster. the squelching sounds of his fingers scissoring your insides causes a knot to slowly form at the pit of your stomach.

“gotta prep this pussy more, baby,” he says breathlessly, watching your slack-jawed face as you stroke and twist his cock.

“still so fucking tight, can’t wait to sink into you,” he grunts, moving your body so he can get a better angle at your g-spot.

“bet i can fuck you better than my dad ever will, mommy,” he growls, curling his fingers inside of you as he ends his sentence. you lurch forward and cry out, eyes fluttering at the pleasure.

“see? you want my cock—shit—so badly, huh? look at how your hand is squeezing and s-stroking me, fuck,” he stutters, feeling his orgasm approach. his free hand squeezes your hip, keeping your balance.

you shake your head frantically at his statement, still not admitting that you want this, want him.

“stop fighting it. i know you want me as much as i want you,” he grates, curling his fingers again and making you wail at the pleasure. your fingers twist and pump his cock, pre-cum leak from the tip. your hand feels warm and slick as you continue to jerk issei’s shaft.

“gonna cum baby, cum with me,” he whispers into your skin, breaths heavy as the slick sounds of your fluids fill the room.

your body is trembling and you know you’re nearing your orgasm once more. you bury your face in the crook of his neck, moans and whimpers falling from your lips.

“c-cumming, issei!” you scream when his thumb circles your clit just as he curls his fingers again inside your tight pussy, hitting your g-spot perfectly.

he follows after you, hot spurts of his cum staining your hand and arm. he groans and throws his head back as he feels the heat of his essence coat his abs and thighs.

he removes his fingers from your cunt and gently pushes you back on the bed. you yelp when issei grabs the back of your thighs and pushes them to your chest, folding your body in half.

“i’m going to fuck you until all you and i can hear in this house are your cute and sexy moans,” he growls, spreading your legs and baring your clenching hole to his dark eyes.

his cock bobs as he moves forward and he takes hold of his shaft, one long vein on the underside. he taps it a few times on your clit, making you whine and close your eyes.

you take a deep breath as he inserts the tip, body shaking as his large cock goes inside of you, inch by inch.

you open your eyes and claw at his arms when the stretch starts to become uncomfortable. you look down and gasp, eyes wide as you have a clear view of his fat cock splitting you.

“god, you’re so fucking tight,” he growls, squeezing your thighs as he slowly bottoms out.

“you’re so big, issei,” you moan, leaning your head back on the pillow as your eyes flutter at the feeling of his cock stretching your walls.

“mhmm, big enough to fuck you the way you want to be fucked, mommy,” he chuckles then groans when your cunt squeezes around him.

“fuck—do you like it when i call you mommy?” he growls when your tight walls clamp down on him again. you shake your head, a futile attempt in proving him wrong.

“who knew my mommy is so kinky,” he mocks you and before you can even reprimand him, his entire length bottoms out in one swift thrust.

“issei! fuck!” you scream, scratching his forearms as your back arches, toes curling at the sudden thrust.

you feel so fucking full. of all the cocks you’ve taken, issei’s definitely tops the list. you can feel every part of him, from the single vein to the throbbing of his length.

he groans loudly, squeezing your thighs so hard that his rings will definitely leave bruises later. he fights to controls himself, willing not to cum at the feeling of your pussy finally enveloping him.

he sucks in a breath and leans his forehead against yours, pulling out slowly, leaving only the tip of his cock inside your pussy. you whine at the loss, missing the way he stretches you.

he thrusts back in, bottoming out as his tip teases the entrance of your cervix. you cry out in both pain and pleasure, still trying to adjust to his size.

he stays still inside of you for a few seconds before he places his hands on the bed, your calves resting on his upper arms. he starts thrusting, moving in and out of your cunt.

you mumble incoherently, breasts bouncing with each thrust issei makes. you grab both of his wrists, squeezing them as the sounds of your skin meeting his fill your ears.

issei groans and hisses, panting heavily as he pounds your pussy, his heavy balls slapping against your ass. he leans down to your ear, licking the sensitive skin and making your shaking body tremble even more as you whine.

“bet you’re happy now, huh?” he whispers in between his groans, biting your earlobe.

“w-what do you—oh my god, issei!” you stutter, but then he fucks you harder and faster, making you keen and arch your back. he makes your body contort into positions you’ve never been in before—until now.

“do you think you’re quiet when you touch yourself during your late night showers?” he asks you in a condescending manner, smirking when you whine at his statement.

“i can fucking hear you when i go to the kitchen. you’re such a slut. moaning your stepson’s name, imagining that he’s the one who’s touching your pussy,” he growls as he buries his head in your neck, his hot breaths fanning your skin.

“but i guess i don’t have the right to talk, huh? i fuck my fist every night and imagine it’s your tight cunt wrapped around me,” he finishes, nipping away at your skin before his hands return the back of your sweaty thighs.

he slaps them, in sync with his thrusts, making you wince at the metal of his rings. your shaking arms reach for your ankles, setting everything on display for issei.

you’re loudly chanting his name like a prayer, pleasure running through every nerve in your body. for the first time in your life, you’re actually enjoying getting fucked silly—never mind that it’s your stepson who’s making you moan like a pornstar.

his thrusts are heavy and deep as he slowly toys with your clit and you jerk when his fingers draw circles on the aching bud. your body’s trembling harder than before, loud moans and whines falling from your open mouth as drool seeps from the corners.

“i-i’m gonna cum, issei!” you squeal as the sound of the headboard hitting the wall and the squelching noises coming from your pussy make the pit in your stomach slowly tip over.

“cum, baby. cum all over my fat cock,” he whines, throwing his head back as he jackhammers into you, his cock throbbing and his balls tightening as he prepares to empty himself inside of you.

“c-cumming i-issei! fuck!” you scream, your hands squeezing your ankles as your legs shake from your intense orgasm. your cunt is practically suffocating issei’s cock, making his hips jerk and stop.

his mouth falls open into a loud and heavy groan as he spills his hot and sticky cum inside of you. there’s so much cum that it leaks out of you and around his cock as it drips down to the drenched sheets below your bodies.

you finally set your shaking legs down as your trembling body aches from your folded position. issei falls on top of you, elbows on the bed as his sweaty face is smothered by your breasts.

his cock is still inside of you, twitching as more cum spills inside of your soiled pussy. your heavy breaths fill the cool air of the room as you recover, feeling disgusting at all sweat and cum on and in your body.

issei lifts himself off of you and pulls out of your cunt, making you both sigh and groan at the drag of his cock. your mixed fluids immediately trickle out of your pussy and you moan at the thick feeling.

issei furrows his brows as his fingers scoop his cum and quickly pushes it back. you whine as the tips of his fingers tease your hole, squirming away from him as your clit throbs from the overstimulation.

you’re kind of expecting him to roll over you and lie down but he shocks you—it’s evident with the way you yelp when flips your body over to your stomach, his large hands raising your hips until you’re kneeling on the sheets.

“i can’t fucking get enough of you, baby,” he says breathlessly, chest still heaving at the previous round. but it’s true, he really can’t get enough of you—not when he knows the taste and feel of your pussy.

“i-issei, i-i can’t,” you whine when he holds his cock and hovers before your dripping cunt. he doesn’t pay any heed to your whimpers, mostly because he knows you still want more of this, more of him.

“you say that but your pussy is telling me a different story,” he smirks and you can hear the condescension in his voice as his thumb rubs the sweaty skin of your hips.

he doesn’t give you any time to reply because he quickly sinks into you, your mouth falling open into a loud moan as his fat cock stretches you open once more.

fuck, even if you’ve already taken him, the stretch and ache still feels the same. he’s so fucking big that you know you won’t ever get used to his size, no matter how many times he fucks you.

he doesn’t waste any time and starts rolling his hips, his thighs loudly slapping against your ass. he hisses as one of his hands lie flat on your back, pushing it down to form a deeper arch.

“i know you saw me jerking off. did you like the show i put on for you, mommy?” he growls, his other hand gripping the back of your neck and smothering your face on the sweat-stained sheets.

you moan into the fabric when you hear the mocking endearment, your drool mixing with all the other fluids. your fingers bunch the sheets between them as the loud creaking and thumping of the bed fill your ears.

“i came so hard because i knew you were watching me work my cock,” he groans, thrusting hard and deep. your cunt squeezes his cock when you remember that afternoon. so all this time? he was shamelessly coaxing you towards him?

you huff, pride slightly damaged when you hear his admission. you’ll show him that he’s not the only one who can fuck like an animal.

you whimper when you spread your knees—which is a feat in itself because issei’s thrusts practically send your body flying forward. you moan when he hits your sweet spot, making tingles run down your spine.

you start meeting his thrusts, no longer letting him do all the pulling and jostling. his eyes flash when he realizes what you’re doing, which only encourages him to fuck you harder.

his hands palm your jiggling ass, leaving marks on your soft skin. you leave your head buried in the sheets, the sheets, stifling your moans and whines because if you don’t, —you’ll definitely make the walls shake with how loud you are.

“yeah that’s a good girl. fuck yourself on my cock, come on,” he coaxes you, deep voice raspy as his own body trembles at the pleasure of your walls clamping down on his cock.

“fuck—look at how your slutty cunt is taking me,” he growls when you roll your hips, the angle sending new waves of pleasure to the both of you.

“god, i wanna fuck you in front of my dad just so he knows that your pussy belongs to me,” he hisses, holding your hips as he takes control of the pace again.

his thrusts become sloppy and erratic, the loud slapping of skin a constant symphony as he maintains the fast pace. you turn your head to the side and breathe deeply, choking out a moan as he continuously hits your g-spot.

“want me to make you a mommy again? get your belly all swollen and round with my kid?” he says, voice shaking as his heavy balls slap against your skin. he’s close, he can feel it.

you’re close too, just a few more deep and hard thrusts and you’ll gush around his cock again. issei leans over your body, his chest covering the entire expanse of your sweaty back.

you squeal when your knees drop and you fall flat on the bed, your entire front rubbing against the sheets. you whimper shakily when your nipples brush against the soft fabric, the extra stimulation making your body jerk back against issei’s thrusting cock.

“issei! g-gonna c-cum a-again!” you squeal, voice shaking from how raw your throat feels. your moans increase in pitch and volume the nearer you get to your orgasm.

“fuck, your pussy feels like heaven!” issei groans, his own voice increasing in pitch and volume as well as he reaches his limit. you feel his cock swell and throb before thick and hot spurts of his cum coat your clenching walls.

“issei—oh my god!” you wail, cumming at the same time as him. your mouth stays open in a silent scream as you close your eyes tightly, cunt spasming as you drench his cock with your essence.

you wince when you feel the squelching of your mixed juices as issei rolls to his side, bringing you with him. both of you are quivering with pleasure and overstimulation, breathing heavy with your chests rising and falling rapidly.

his cock finally softens inside of you, clearly spent for the day. more cum falls out of your pussy, staining your sweaty bodies even more.

his parted lips find your neck, sucking and licking away at glistening skin. you whine, tilting your head, exposing more skin for him to mark.

you sigh tiredly, exhaustion finally catching up to you. you don’t really care that you’re dirty and soiled with sweat and cum—or the fact that issei’s dick is still inside of you. you just want to rest.

your eyes droop, ready to fall asleep enveloped in issei’s warm chest and arms, along with the wandering of his soft lips on your neck—until you hear a very familiar voice shout from downstairs, loud footsteps running up the stairs.

“honey! issei! we’re finally home!”

[3:47 PM]

@semisgroupie @kurinoot @rosesandtoshi @kinsurou

if you want to join my taglist, please answer the form in my navi! ☀︎

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screechesincoherently · 2 years

Text

Muse

Josh x Reader

Based on request from @capturethechaos

Warnings: Angst/Fluff with a little bit of strong language

Huge thank you to @obetrolncocktails for allowing me to use some of their dialogue! I was really in a rut with that part lol

Enjoy!

You woke up Saturday morning to a single stream of sun beating onto your covered body, making you much warmer than you needed to be. You heard humming coming from the other room, and you wandered towards the kitchen, every once in a while hearing a gentle “fuck” coming from Josh’s mouth in the writing room.

You made yourself a cup of coffee, and noticed that there were no dirty dishes in the sink. You and Josh had made an agreement when you first started living together to both work on household chores together, never having to worry about the other doing too much work. So when you saw no utensils, plates, or cups, it let you know that your boyfriend must have woken up with an idea first thing in the morning, not being bothered to step away from his pencil and paper.

You kept hearing the same words being beautifully strung out of Josh’s voice repeatedly, but each time, having a slight difference to the melody. As you hummed with content of the perfect start to your weekend, you made Josh a small breakfast knowing that he won’t eat a lot until he’s content with where he’s at in the process.

You plated the eggs and toast, poured a cup of orange juice as well as a glass of water, and carefully made your way to serve breakfast to your favorite person.

The door was slightly ajar, so you tapped the inside of the doorframe with the tip of your foot a couple of times to let him know you were there. He didn’t budge from his position, so you walked in setting the meal on his nightstand, then made your way to the desk to see what exactly he was working on. You placed your hands on his shoulders, briefly rubbing them until he took his free hand and covered your right one, and kept writing.

“Honey, why don’t you take a break so you can eat?” you suggested, caressing the mess of curls off of his forehead.

“I’m just getting into the flow of things, you could bring the food here though, love.”

You lifted yourself off of your boyfriend, and grabbed the food as well as the spare chair and sat next to him. When he still didn’t stop writing, you had thought it would be amusing to pretend to feed him. You picked up the fork and stabbed some eggs before placing them in front of his face. You didn’t grab his attention quite how you would have liked, but you really wanted him to get something in his system before he got sick so you kept giving in. After the food was gone, you were getting highly irritated by the lack of acknowledgments or appreciation that you had gotten.

“Fuck. I don’t know why I can’t figure out this bridge.” Josh said frustrated.

“Do you want help babe?”

“Yea, yea that’d be great actually.” He said, sliding the paper between you two.

As he walked you through what he had jotted down on the paper already, you listened to him and his concerns. You wracked your brain to try and provide the help that you offered a minute ago, but nothing was coming up.

You and Josh sat in an unnerving silence for what felt like hours, waiting for one another to begin a suggestion to create a flow.

“What were you thinking of adding here?”

“I don’t fucking know,” Josh responded with a frustrated laugh, “that’s kind of the only reason I’m letting you help me but that’s obviously not working.”

What? You stared at the side of his face with wide eyes and mouth agape as he threw his head into his hands. He has never talked to you like this before. Everyone else has more often than not been on the receiving end of this behavior but never once has it been you.

The annoyance that was laced in his words pierced your eardrums like a needle.

“Are you fucking serious right now Josh?” He lifted his head meeting your glare.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the words flowed out of you before you could even comprehend them, “I fucking make you breakfast every single time you are writing because I know how much you put your career above anything, and you decide you want to fucking treat me like this? Especially today of all days?”

Tears began to brim your eyes. “Happy first fucking anniversary Joshua” you said as you stood up and walked out.

You didn’t expect him to follow you out, but it still hurt like hell to not feel his presence trailing after you. You didn’t go far, you didn’t want to leave but you knew you couldn’t be around him, so you settled for the couch. You sat at the edge, curling your legs into yourself, grabbing a throw pillow and squeezing it so hard. You couldn’t even actually cry, so you stared blankly at the black screen on the television.

“Fuck!” you heard come from the other room again, but with a different tone, followed by the sound of a small object hitting the wall.

You took a deep breath and walked back to the room ready to have a conversation if he was. Peeking into the room, you saw the desk chair empty, a pencil on the floor, Josh nowhere to be found. You heard a drawer shut in the master bathroom. You turned on your heel only to find Josh now sitting on the edge of your shared bed, facing the door staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

You walked towards him slowly, unsure of the energy surrounding the two of you. Once you reached the bed, you sat in the space available next to him, folding your hands in your lap and staring at them. There’s another moment of silence shared between the two of you. Slowly, you see his hand reach over to yours and close around them.

Feeling a shift in the bed, you finally look up to meet his gaze in front of you, him on the floor. You scan over Josh’s figure taking in his posture and position. You start at his face, seeing the sudden rush of adoration fall over him, moving to his tense shoulders following his arms. One leading to the hand resting on yours, the other resting on the small of his own back. Your eyes lead your attention to his legs, finding your boyfriend on one knee.

Your eyes darted back up to meet him, and saw that his eyes had glossed over with tears.

“I am so sorry darling. I never meant to say that to you, and I promise you I will never behave like that again. I was going to do this once I finished the song, but I fucked up. Your energy is so contagious, and whenever I see you, you make me feel like the sun is shining ten times as bright. Ever since I met you, I am fully convinced that there is a greater divine being that exists, because they sent you to me, and I can’t ever believe that I am so deserving to even be in the same universe that you are existing in.”

You had become so lost in Josh’s sincerity, that you barely noticed that he pulled out a small velvet box from behind his back, presenting it to you, now letting your hands fall back down onto your legs.

“Y/n, you are my muse, the entire reason that I get up in the morning, why I try so goddamn hard to be the best version of myself possible. I am in love with how everything we do is in tandem, and as long as I am breathing and sane, you will always be my version of perfection. Would you marry me?”

He opened the box with the slightest tremor of nerves, that you wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been gawking at the small, significant gesture in his hands.

“Oh my god, Josh! Yes!” You hastily pull him into the tightest hug you could muster, arms around his neck, after you were confident that he was suffocating in your love, you pulled away.

"I don't know if I want to kiss you or push you off a bridge." You said, still upset that you had gotten into an argument because he was stressed about his proposal.

"Can I pick?" He responded, sliding the delicate piece of jewelry onto your left ring finger, then pressing a soft kiss to your knuckle.

You laughed at how diverse your now fiancé was, and nodded your head. That was all it took for him to engulf you in the most caring and passion-filled kiss the two of you had shared.

You had never been more thankful for a fight.

#josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka imagine #josh kiszka #josh gvf #josh kiszka gvf #greta van fleet #gvf #danny gvf #jake kiszka #sammy gvf #sammy kiszka #danny wagner #danny wagner gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet imagine #gvf fic #jake gvf #sam gvf

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hqbbg · 4 years

Text

still.

pairing: miya osamu x fem!reader

prompt: “I told you to stay still.”

genre: smut

word count: 5.3K (I got carried away, oops)

warnings: 18+, masturbation, some degradation, oral (f!receiving), fingering, some spanking, vaginal & unprotected s3x (make sure you wrap your presents, kids), like 2 seconds of cockwarming, uhm I think that’s it oop

author’s note: I'm back with another Haikyuu!! Headquarters collab piece! check out the master list of everyone else’s works here ✨ I hope y’all enjoy this!

The air in your room feels thick as you pant helplessly, feeling the familiar ache in your fingers as they begin to cramp up while plunging in and out of your sopping cunt. You feel so close to your own undoing, unable to control your thoughts as they drift to the man whose room is on the other side of your bedroom wall. You can’t help but think that it’s his fingers squelching within your warmth, though you’re sure they would reach much further than yours ever could.

You don’t do this often, touching yourself to the thought of your roommate while he’s out at work or running errands, but lately you’ve been frustrated.

When you had put out an ad for a roommate, you were hesitant. You didn’t have much of a choice, as your last roommate decided to move out in favor of moving in with her boyfriend, leaving you to scramble for a solution in order to continue to afford rent. As a full-time student with a part time job, it would’ve been inconvenient to move out in the middle of the semester, and it seemed reasonable to quickly search for a roommate to help with the bills until your lease was up.

Miya Osamu was hot, to say the least, though it wasn’t the main reason why you ended up choosing him to be your new roommate. On top of having manners and being financially stable, he knew how to cook and respected your space in the apartment. Unfortunately, you’ve been unable to say the same recently. The number of times his room door was cracked open as he changed almost made you consider that he was doing it on purpose, as if encouraging you to take a peek.

As you recall the way his back muscles flexed as he pulled his shirt over his head all those times you’d told yourself that you were just walking by, you let another moan slip past your lips. Your fingers begin to move quicker, toes curling, and you can feel your arm beginning to tire out. Your back arches as your other hand quickly moves to massage your neglected clit, rubbing harsh circles until your vision flashes white.

You fail to hear the front door open and close as your moans continue to fill the room. The memory of seeing Osamu stepping out of the bathroom in a simple pair of grey sweatpants with a towel around his neck is still fresh on your mind. You feel yourself clench around your own fingers as you recall your eyes briefly catching sight of the outline of his cock, the image practically ingrained within you. Too many times have you thought about how it would feel inside of you.

Another moan resonates on the walls and you bite your lip, though it does little to stop you from moaning Osamu’s name. Before you know it, you’re overwhelmed by pleasure and your whole body tenses before it relaxes. Your chest heaves as you lay there, trying to recover from your intense orgasm and you want nothing more than to sleep now. You hardly notice that your door is open.

Over the next few days, you can’t help but feel that something is off with Osamu. Though you aren’t particularly close, you’d like to think that you two have developed some sort of friendship with all the shared meals and evenings spent in the living room just chatting about life.

Did he hear you the other night? There was no way; you made sure to give yourself enough time before he was supposed to come home. Then again, you didn’t hear him come in…

Your cheeks begin to burn at the idea that he’d heard you. You let out a groan as you bury your face in your hands, leaning onto your desk. The little motivation you had to study has effectively disappeared and an unsettling mix of nervousness and shame begins to stir in the pit of your stomach.

Taking a deep breath, you try to push the dreadful thought out of your head and sit upright. An idea suddenly pops into your head and you abruptly stand up. You walk over to your door and poke your head out, scanning the area to locate your roommate. He’s conveniently in the kitchen, snacking on some leftovers he’d brought back from his restaurant the previous night.

“Hey,” you say awkwardly as you step out. He looks over at you and hums in acknowledgement, his mouth full. You decide to go ahead and speak, though your fingers fidget with the hem of your oversized shirt. “You’re not working tomorrow night, right?”

Osamu shakes his head, swallowing his food. “What’s up?”

“Well,” you hesitate, trying to find a way to come off as casually as you can, “I saw this recipe online for some salmon and vegetables, do you wanna be my guinea pig?”

“Sure,” he nods as he shrugs. “What time?”

“Dinner time,” you say, a little too eagerly. “How about seven?”

His lips quirk upwards into a small smile. “Sounds good to me.”

You watch as he takes another bite of his food before you realize you’re staring, clearing your throat.

“Okay, well, have a good night,” you say and quickly scurry back towards your room. Once you shut the door, you release a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding in. You swiftly move back to your desk, your forgotten notes pushed even further aside as you begin to look for that recipe you’d seen all those weeks ago.

The following day, you make a quick trip to the store to buy ingredients and find yourself nervously counting down the hours and minutes until it’s a reasonable time to start making dinner. You step out of your room to see Osamu already perched on a stool at the small island in the kitchen. He’s slouched over, scrolling through his phone when you walk up. He glances up and greets you with a small smile as you place your phone down near the center of the island countertop.

“Okay, so before I start, I just need to say that I’m definitely not a professional chef in any way,” you say as you move to wash your hands. You can feel his eyes on you as you move around the kitchen, pulling the vegetables from the fridge. You grab the apron hanging on the pantry door and sling it over your head, tying it behind your back.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen ya wear that,” Osamu muses as he leans his cheek on his palm. His elbows are both propped up on the counter and you resist the urge to playfully roll your eyes.

“I have to make sure my shirt doesn’t get dirty,” you say, “it’s one of my favorites.”

He says nothing in response, opting for a light chuckle as you begin to wash the vegetables. Once you finish, you pull out the cutting board in front of him on the other side of the island, placing a carrot in the middle.

You open a cabinet and pull out a knife, giving it a quick rinse before positioning the blade to cut through the vegetable. Placing your fingers on the edge, you lift the knife just slightly.

“Hey, be sure to cats paw,” Osamu pipes up, pointing to the hand that’s on the carrot, “If yer not careful, you’ll knick yourself.”

“Huh?” You blink your eyes at him, trying to prevent yourself from sounding like an idiot.

“Like this,” he says, lifting his hand up and curling his fingers inward into a loose fist. You try not to focus on the veins lining his hands, tearing your eyes away and mimicking his motions. You see him drop his hand from your peripherals and finally attempt to cut into the carrot.

Before you know it, the knife slips from your grasp, making a shallow but clean cut across your index knuckle. You let out a curse and hiss as you drop the knife.

“Whoa, are ya okay?” Osamu stands as you begin to make your way to the sink, blocking your path.

“It hurts, but I’m fine,” you reply, looking at him curiously before glancing at your finger. You examine it for a moment, seeing the familiar crimson begin to bead.

“Let me take a look,” says Osamu, gently grabbing a hold of your wrist. He lifts your hand up closer to his face, his eyebrows slightly creasing as you do your best to resist the blush creeping up to your cheeks. “You should be careful.”

“Well, it’s not like this was intentional,” you grumble, unable to meet his eyes. He sighs softly and you glance at him, opening your mouth to say something. However, your train of thought is completely derailed when his lips wrap around the small incision.

You feel his warm tongue gently lick around it and you can’t help but stare at the way his lips look around your finger. He catches your eyes and pulls away.

“I used to do this to my brother whenever he’d get hurt or something when we were little,” he says, letting go of your wrist. Your face is burning as you drop your hand back down to your side. “Wait here, I’ll go grab a bandage.”

You nod wordlessly, mind still reeling as you try to figure out and process what exactly had just happened. You watch his retreating figure head towards the bathroom, disappearing for only a moment before resurfacing with a familiar pink wrapper with Hello Kitty’s face scattered across the outside cover, a gift he had received from his brother. He makes his way back over to you, pulling the tabs apart and plucking out the bandaid.

Without prompting, you lift your hand up towards him and watch as he moves your hand towards him with his pinky, wrapping it around your finger.

“There, all patched up. Is that too tight?” He asks, picking up the trash and crumpling it in his fist. You lift your hand up and examine his handiwork, nodding in approval.

“It’s perfect,” you say, feeling your stomach flutter at the self-satisfied smirk that’s found its way onto his face. “I still have to cut the vegetables, though.”

“Hand it over; I’ll do it.” He motions towards the knife.

You pout, making no indication to hand the utensil over to him. “I kind of wanted to cut the vegetables though.”

He raises a brow at you. “Are ya sure? Ya already butchered yer first chance; I don’t want blood all over my kitchen.”

“Your kitchen, huh?”

Osamu shrugs. “I hardly see ya in here, so it might as well be.”

“So are you gonna help me or not?” You raise a brow and choose to ignore his statement as you cross the kitchen to grab your phone, pulling up the recipe to skim through the instructions before placing it back down. “I’m supposed to Juliette these vegetables.”

Osamu stays quiet for a moment. “Do ya mean julienne?”

“Yeah, same thing,” you wave your hand dismissively, walking back over to the cutting board. You pick up the discarded knife, giving it a quick rinse. Upon returning to your original spot at the island, your hands position themselves once again, curling your fingers like Osamu had previously shown you.

“Wait, yer gonna end up hurting yourself again,” he says as he walks up behind you. “How thin are ya trying to cut this?”

“About this much,” you reply, positioning the knife towards the edge of the carrot.

“Okay, first things first,” he says as he wraps his arms around you. Your eyes widen as you feel his chest press against your back, his hands moving to hold yours. “Ya have to cut it in half and get a flat surface.”

He grabs your hand holding the knife and moves it to the middle of the carrot, wrapping his thick and long fingers around the handle, completely swallowing yours. He ensures that his grip is stable before pressing down, the blade making a sharp cut.

“Okay, so now that ya have this, ya said ya want to make them look like noodles, right?”

You can only nod your head, afraid that your voice will crack if you choose to speak. Your head feels fuzzy, your senses overwhelmed by the scent of his musky cologne hitting your nose and the way his strong arms continue to guide you. The heat radiating off his chest envelops you in an oddly comforting embrace and something about it feels very domestic. You try hard to keep your knees from buckling under you, shifting your weight between your feet. You immediately tense when you accidentally press your backside against his hips.

Briefly scanning the island countertop, you see that his phone is on the other side where he’d originally left it when you began cooking and try to ignore the sinful thoughts threatening to infiltrate your mind.

“Makes sense?” Osamu says, his lips dangerously close to your ear.

“I-I think so,” you stammer, though you bite your lip and mentally scold yourself for your faltering voice.

“Alright,” he says, taking a step back. You exhale slowly, trying not to think of the loss of warmth. “While ya keep doing that, I’ll prepare the salmon. Where’s the recipe?”

“It’s on my phone.” You nod towards it, setting the knife down. He walks over to the side of the counter you’d left your phone at and brings it over to you. “What’s yer passcode?”

“That’s classified information, sir.” You see his eyes darken for a moment as you pluck your phone from his hand, typing in the digits before placing it in his open palm.

“Never thought you’d be callin’ me that so soon,” he says offhandedly, locating the recipe in your browser. You feel your lips part to say something, but no words come out.

You simply resume cutting the carrot and grab more vegetables, shaking your head to clear your wandering thoughts. You see Osamu grab the salmon from the fridge, pulling it out and getting some seasonings you’d bought earlier.

“Hey, can ya grab a pan from that cabinet there?” Osamu asks as he points to one of the bottom cabinets in front of your legs.

“Sure,” you nod and take a step back, opening the cabinet door and bending over at the hips. You rummage around for a decent-sized pan, feeling Osamu’s eyes on you before you straighten up. He’s quick to avert his eyes as he holds his hand out to you. You place the handle in his open palm and he takes it, setting it on top of the stove.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you prepare your own things, with you seasoning and cooking the vegetables while Osamu prepares the fish, searing it on the pan. As you both finish your portions, you decide to bring out your nicer plates for the occasion.

Opening one of the top cabinets, you stand on your toes to reach for the plates, wondering how they ended up so high to begin with.

“Need help?”

You jump slightly, startled when you feel his body pressed flush against yours with a hand on the dip of your waist as the other reaches above your head to grab two plates, placing them down onto the counter. You turn your head to look at him and realize just how close he is, his face merely centimeters away. His eyes are on your lips as you tongue pokes out to wet them before they flicker upwards to meet your eyes. You look up at him, anticipating his next move with bated breath, and feel his hand that had been holding the plates move to gently hold your jaw. He leans forward just slightly and your eyes flutter shut as your lips meet.

His lips move slowly against yours, though it’s nothing short of passionate. You feel his hand on your waist pull you closer to him and you lean into the warmth. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip and you open your mouth to welcome the warm muscle inside, letting him explore freely.

The both of you seem to run out of air at the same time, pulling away breathlessly. Before you can say anything, he kisses down your jaw to your neck as you crane your head just slightly so he can have better access and you’re not straining your muscles. He nips gently at the skin before dragging his tongue along, finding a particularly tender spot to pay special attention to. A hiss slips past your lips and you’re reminded of how close he is to you when you begin to feel something hardening against your backside.

“If ya wanna stop, ya have to tell me now,” he mutters against your neck as both of his hands settle on your waist, thumbs playing with the hem of your shirt.

“I’d rather not,” you admit rather shamelessly. You can feel Osamu’s lips curve upwards against your skin as his hands give you a slight squeeze.

“If ya say so,” he says before one of his hands reaches between the two of you to untie your apron. “If ya ever need me to stop, let me know.”

You nod your head absentmindedly, slightly dizzy from the reality of what’s happening right now. One of his hands begins to slide upwards from your waist, cupping your clothed breast and giving it a squeeze, while the other slips downwards under your apron and pushes past the waistband of your shorts, hovering over your panties. Suddenly very aware of the wetness between your legs, you move to close them a little.

“That won’t do ya any good,” Osamu mutters against the back of your neck. As if to prove his point, he presses his middle finger against your clothed slit and swipes upward, humming to himself. “Yer practically dripping and I haven’t even started yet.”

A moan slips past your lips and you can only bite your lip in embarrassment at your own shamelessness.

“It’s just the two of us; you don’t have to be quiet,” he says, as if encouraging you to be as loud as you want and disturb your neighbors. When you still refuse to make another noise, he nudges your legs open with his knees, almost forcing you to lean over the counter for support. As if to further prove his point, he pushes your panties aside and slips his middle finger in between your folds, causing you to let out a gasp of surprise at the sudden intrusion.

“Osamu,” you whimper as you feel him kiss his way towards the back of your ear.

“What is it, baby?” His finger is still and unmoving inside of you as you try to gain any sort of friction, attempting to grind your hips against him. His hand doesn’t move as you feel his tongue trace the outer shell of your ear.

“Stop teasing me,” you practically whimper as you ball your hands into fists on the surface in front of you.

“What do ya want me to do?” He sounds smug and you can almost visualize his teasing smirk behind your closed lids.

“Just fuck me,” you say. You fight the embarrassment heating your cheeks, too aroused to focus on anything else.

“I know we’ve been living together for awhile now, but let’s not forget our manners,” he says, beginning to slide his finger out.

“M’Samu, please fuck me!” It comes out too eagerly, too desperately, but you want him to just do something to you.

“That’s all you needed to say,” he lets out a soft chuckle before he slides his finger back in. You find yourself leaning completely on the countertop so you don’t buckle under him and moan when he slides another finger inside, stretching you.

You were right; his fingers reach so much further than yours ever could.

His calloused fingers continue to thrust in and out of you at a steady pace as his other hand that had been on your breast moves down to slip under your shirt. You bite your lip as you feel him expertly unclip the bra before sliding around to cup the flesh, nudging your loose bra aside. His fingers pinch your hardening nipple and you breathe out his name.

“Careful there, sweetheart,” he practically grunts, “if ya keep soundin’ like that, I won’t be goin’ easy on ya.”

Part of you has half the mind to take him up on the offer while the other is failing to form coherent words and thoughts.

A familiar tension begins to pull at your lower abdomen as you feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm. It seems that Osamu’s also aware, quickly slipping his hands out from your dripping cunt.

“Why’d you stop?” You whine as you turn back to look at him. He offers a smirk before removing his hands completely from your pants and lifting his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean. The way his half-lidded eyes are locked on yours as he swirls his tongue around makes you clench helplessly around nothing.

“Don’t worry, yer gonna thank me later,” he says, dropping his hand. He begins to lower himself so he’s on his knees on the ground before he pulls your shorts and panties down in one clean tug. The cool air hits your wet heat and you bite your lip at the sensation.

You watch him with anticipation as he leans forward, using both hands to massage your ass a couple times before spreading the cheeks apart. He nudges your feet so you can spread a little wider for him, which you wordlessly oblige, and inhale shakily as he leans forward and licks a fat stripe up your slit.

“Fuck, Osamu,” you hiss as you turn back to look at him. You use one hand to reach around and weave your fingers through his hair, fisting it as he begins to sloppily lap at your cunt.

His tongue dives in and out, the wet squelch echoing around the apartment. You feel your legs tremble as he angles his head to reach a bit further before opting to have his fingers rejoin the fun. Your moans sound nearly pornographic as you attempt to grip at anything, unable to get yourself to properly stand as Osamu wags his head a couple times, swirling his tongue in the process.

A sharp gasp leaves you when you feel his fingers angle themselves and hit a spot you didn’t even know existed, your walls beginning to clench and flutter around him.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moan, pushing his head deeper against you. You feel him hum against you as if to encourage you to release onto his face, so you do.

A strangled cry erupts from your throat as you feel every nerve ending spark up and you come undone above him. He lets you grind your hips against him a couple more times before he pulls away, breathing heavily as he stands up. He turns you around by your hips and you see your slick coating his lips and chin.

“Look at this mess,” he taunts you, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. You don’t say anything and wrap your fingers around the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to taste yourself. As you do so, he makes quick work to get rid of his sweatpants and pulls away to lift his shirt over his head. You go ahead and do the same with your apron, tossing it onto the island behind him and removing your shirt and bra to leave the both of you stark naked in the kitchen.

You take a brief moment to unabashedly check him out, admiring how toned and built he is. Chewing on your bottom lip, you let your fingers trace along the hardened and defined lines of his abdomen, trailing your fingers down to palm him through his boxers. You see the fabric straining and recognize the heat rising to your cheeks as you feel how hard he is, creating a slightly darkened and damp spot where the head of his cock is located. You glance up at him and meet eyes as you hook your thumbs on his waistband, pulling them down. His length practically springs to life, standing proud and tall before you and your mouth practically waters at the sight.

Wrapping your fingers around the base, you bite your lip as you drag your hand upwards to the tip and collect his beading precum, spreading it around generously with the pad of your thumb before using it as lubricant to continue stroking him.

“Fuck,” he moans softly as you lick your lips, getting ready to get on your knees to return the favor that he so generously had given you moments ago. He grabs your wrist to stop you and you look at him curiously. “As much as I’d love to see you suck my cock, I just want to be inside of that pussy of yours right now.”

The hungry look in his eyes is all you need before you kiss him again, this time much sloppier than the previous ones. He maneuvers you around the kitchen for a moment and before you know it, you’re bent over the island countertop with a leg propped up on the cool surface. You hear Osamu spit into his hand and look back to see him give his thick cock a couple generous strokes before positioning himself with one hand while the other holds your hip.

You feel the bulbous head nudge your lower set of lips apart before slowly easing in, your back arching at the pressure already building inside of you. A soft hiss escapes your throat as you try to take all of him, grateful when he pauses once he’s bottomed out within you. You take a deep breath for a moment and feel your muscles relax slightly as you adjust accordingly.

“Are ya ready?” Osamu’s voice comes out surprisingly soft as he leans over you, placing a kiss between your shoulder blades. You nod quietly before feeling both hands on your hips as he slowly begins to pull out. You realize just how thick he is when you feel empty, though it doesn’t last for long when he slams right back into you. A strangled mewl bubbles from your throat as he begins to thrust in and out of you. You lower yourself onto your elbows on the counter and ball your hands into fists, no longer caring how you sound; you’re too lost in your own wave of pleasure.

As Osamu continues his ministrations, you feel the counter buzz slightly and hazily look around with half a mind to simply ignore it. You see Osamu’s phone shaking across the surface next to your discarded apron, the screen lit up with an unfamiliar name.

“’Samu, your phone,” you say between moans, “your phone is ringing.”

His hips slow, though his thrusts continue to hit deep inside of you. He doesn’t have to reach far to grab it and glances at the screen.

“Shit,” he hisses under his breath. “Stay still for me, will ya?”

You halfheartedly nod your head, though you can’t help but whine at the loss of friction as he stills inside of you.

“Hello?” His voice is even as he answers quickly. “This is Osamu, yes.”

It’s hard to ignore the slight frustration bubbling in your chest as he uses one hand to keep your hips still while the other holds his phone. He continues to speak formally, so you assume it’s probably someone important or has something to do with work. You know better than to tease him in the event that this call is actually important, but you can’t resist the urge to just roll your hips a little.

There’s a slight hitch in Osamu’s voice before he clears his throat, though it sounds more like a warning to you than anything. However, that doesn’t stop you as you grow more bold, deciding to create your own rhythm of shallow thrusts. His grip on your hip tightens, though it’s not enough to hurt you just yet.

“Something just came up, so I’m gonna have to call ya back,” you hear Osamu say, his voice becoming more strained as each second ticks by. When he finally hangs up, the phone smacks onto the table, startling you to a halt.

“Sorry, I couldn’t w-”

“Ya think yer so cute, dontcha? I told ya to stay still.” His voice is dangerously low as he hunches over, practically growling in your ear. You whimper softly in response, feeling the heat radiating off his skin. You’re not sure if you should be as turned on as you are right now, feeling your walls clench around him.

He stands upright and reaches around to grab one of your arms, practically yanking you back so you’re also standing up. His other hand reaches around to grab your other arm, pinning your wrists behind your back.

“If yer gonna act like a slut, I’m gonna fuck ya like one,” he snarls lowly and you resist the urge to moan. He manages to reach for your apron and rolls it up, looping it around your elbows.

As one hand holds your newly bound arms behind your back, the other holds your hips before he begins to pull out of you. You feel his whole length leave you empty with the exception of the tip and you’re about to complain again when you feel him slam back in roughly.

“Is this what ya thought of when ya were touchin’ yerself?”

You hardly contain the cry of mixed pain and pleasure as your back arches, his hips snapping against yours at a relentless pace. You can barely process his words, though you know the embarrassment will hit you later; you simply can’t form coherent enough thoughts to care. The hand that was on your hip leaves but only momentarily before his palm claps against your ass. You yelp in surprise as he releases your arms.

“What, did ya never get spanked as a kid?” Osamu taunts as he rubs the reddening skin. You lean back over, supporting yourself on your elbows. His comment barely processes in your head as he does it again.

Coherent words fail to form as you feel your legs begin to tremble. You’re practically running towards another orgasm and you can tell Osamu is too, based on his unstable rhythm and sloppier movements. You feel one of his hands reach around you to play with your nipples while you let your own hand rub your clit, the sensations overwhelming you in a crashing wave of pure bliss.

As your walls tighten and flutter, Osamu pulls out and fists his cock a couple times before you feel hot ropes of cum paint your back and ass, a guttural groan leaving him.

“Holy fuck,” he pants once he recovers from his orgasm. You’re still shaking, bent over the island, breathing heavily.

A dull ringing can be heard in your ears from the intensity of your climax, but you faintly hear the sink running for a moment. Not long after, you feel a warm and damp towel wipe across the mess on your backside and Osamu’s gentle arm pulls you up.

“Hey, was I too rough on ya?” His voice is soft and you shake your head. He presses a kiss to your forehead as he hands you your clothes from the ground. “Do ya wanna eat now and shower later?”

“Yeah, I’m starving,” you sigh as your head begins to clear up. You look over to your forgotten food, your mouth curving downwards into a frown. “Wait, did you not turn off the stove?”

“I was a little preoccupied.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyū!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #miya osamu #osamu x y/n #osamu x reader #osamu x you #haikyuu smut #osamu smut #hrnybbg

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notkageyamasprincess · 3 years

Text

what’s so wrong about us? | kageyama tobio x reader

characters: nii-chan!kageyama tobio x reader

genre/warnings: smut, incest, degradation, blackmail, dubcon, slight exhibitionist kink, unprotected sex

words: 2.0k

summary: you and tobio-nii don’t have a typical brother-sister relationship. how far can you go without getting yourselves caught?

notes: please please read the warnings.

“Haah…mhn…w-wait, we can’t! Mom and Dad are coming home tonight, we have to get ready.”

Your hands clutched at the sheets so hard that your knuckles were turning white. Kageyama pulled your lower half closer to him so that your ass hung over the edge of the bed, and kneeled between your legs, fucking you furiously with his fingers and tongue. You felt his hot breath fan over you as he removed his mouth.

“That’s exactly why we have to do it now. Let me taste you and get my fill.”

You cried out when he dragged a long digit against your sensitive spot and sucked your bud harshly, making you tighten around him and spray your release.

“Ah, not so rough! I’m still…ah, so-sore.”

Your older brother wiped his face with a towel and responded by spreading your quivering thighs even wider, drinking in the view of your glistening cunt.

“Well, looks like down here is really enjoying it. This slutty pussy wants more, doesn’t it?” He plunged his fingers back inside, fucking into you, filling the room with your wet noises. “Hear that? God, your cute pussy’s just dripping all over my hand. But you’d rather me stuff it full with something else, don’t you?”

You could only moan his name, too far gone to string together a coherent sentence. He was already edging you closer and closer to another orgasm. “Mmhn…yes…a-ah… Tobio.”

He frowned, stopped completely and took out his fingers, licking them clean of your juices. “Wrong name. Did you forget what to call me?”

“Sorry, Nii-chan…”

“Good.” He resumed his ministrations, slowly rubbing the inside of your walls. “Now, how do we ask for what we want?”

“Please…Nii-chan.”

Kageyama shook his head. “You can do better. What happened to the good little whore from yesterday, huh? Begging so sweetly to cum from her Nii-chan’s cock?”

You whined in desperation. “Tobio-nii, please! Please stretch out my hole with your fat cock. Want Nii-chan to fill me up with his cum.”

He grinned and nodded approvingly. “Good girl,” he cooed, unzipping his jeans. “Time for my pretty cumslut to get her reward.”

You heard the jingling of keys and the front door unlocking.

Your eyed widened and your brother cursed. “Shit, they weren’t supposed to come back this early.”

Your mother called out first. “Kids! We’re home and we brought takeout! Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.”

“____, Daddy got you a souvenir on his business trip, come see what I have for you.”

“Really? Thanks Daddy! I’ll be down in a second, Tobio-nii’s uh…helping me with something.”

You rushed to put your skirt back on and made your bed while Tobio put on a large hoodie to hide his erection.

+++++

You took a sip of water, trying not to think about what you and your brother were just doing as you chatted over dinner. The conversation moved onto work-related matters, so you sat and ate quietly while your parents exchanged stories.

Kageyama leaned over to reach a dish on your side of the table. “____, give me a handjob,” he murmured in a low voice.

You quickly checked if your parents heard before whipping your head towards him. “No way in hell. It’s too risky,” you hissed.

“I didn’t get to cum and I’m hard again. It’s because of you, so take responsibility.”

“You’re not serious.”

“If you won’t do it, then I’m going to tell Mom and Dad everything we’ve been doing for the last few months,” he threatened.

You started getting nervous. “Nii-chan… you wouldn’t…”

Seeing your frightened expression, he started coaxing you more gently. “Come on, please? Help out your poor Nii-chan…he’s in so much pain. Be a good little sister for me, alright?”

You snuck a glance at your parents once more just to make sure they were still engrossed in their discussion before slipping a hand down his pants. Thankfully, the tablecloth is able to cover his lap. You felt his dick twitch in your palm as you gave him slow strokes.

“Tobio-nii, this is enough right? Let’s stop here.”

“Stop moving and I’ll lift up my hoodie and show them exactly what’s going on. You wouldn’t want to make Mom cry, do you?”

At that moment, the person in question piped up. “And what are you two whispering about?” She raised an eyebrow, waiting for your answer.

Tobio flashed her a sheepish smile. “Actually, we were trying to figure out what to get you for your birthday. It’s coming up soon, isn’t it? You weren’t supposed to know, though.”

“Oh, how sweet! Well don’t let me ruin your surprise,” she replied, covering her ears. “I know nothing.”

She leaned her head on your father’s shoulder as he too, smiled at you both warmly. “We did a good job with our children, didn’t we?”

“Sure did, honey.”

If only they knew.

You felt so guilty.

The irony is, you would never want to do anything to jeopardise the happiness of your family.

You tried your best to act normal as your brother somehow managed to speak casually with your parents. You felt his length straining against his boxers—he was getting close.

You heard the clatter of a utensil on the floor. “Sorry ____, I dropped my spoon, would you mind picking it up for me?”

You crouched under the table and immediately felt him nudge your head towards his crotch. He forced the head of his shaft between your lips, muffling your startled exclamations. He gave a few shallow thrusts before finishing in your mouth, and you swallowed out of habit. Tobio peered down at you discreetly, smiling in satisfaction. “Good girl,” he mouthed, patting your head.

As you shakily rose from the ground, your mother gasped sharply.

You froze. Were you caught?

“____ ____! Is that a hickey on your neck? Did you invite a boy over while we were gone? Young lady, what did I say about having boys over while we were out of the house?”

You slapped a hand to your neck in realization. Tobio left a mark on you the previous night and you had forgotten it was there. Despite still being in hot water, you were relieved that your mother didn’t seem to have an inkling of suspicion that it was your brother’s doing.

You began to make up an excuse, but Tobio cut in. “No, it’s my fault for letting her out of my sight. Don’t worry Mom, I’ll discipline her accordingly. She won’t have any more chances to fool around with boys if I have anything to say about it.”

“At least ____ has a responsible older brother like you, Tobio,” she sighed.

“It’s my job, after all. I’ll make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble.”

As if he wasn’t the one who almost revealed your dirty secret.

Your father chuckles. “Now honey, we were all at that age at one point. ____’s a big girl, she can handle herself and she knows what not to do.”

Except you apparently didn’t know not to have sex with your brother.

“Sweetie, you’re looking a little flushed, are you alright?” He cast you a concerned look.

Tobio took the opportunity to leave the table. There were other things he wanted to do anyways.

“Yeah Dad, now that you mention it, she doesn’t look very well. I’ll help her into her room.”

He guided you up the stairs and you slapped him away once you were out of earshot.

“Are you crazy? How could you do that with Mom and Dad sitting right across from us? You’re the worst. I hate having such a sick older brother like you!”

He feigns hurt but doesn’t take it to heart. He ushered you into your room and closed the door behind him. “Aw, princess, are you mad? I know I went a little too far but you enjoyed it too didn’t you? Don’t you love your Nii-chan?”

Tears began to prick at the back of your eyes. “This and that are different! You have no idea how terrible I felt when Mom talked about doing such a good job with us. We’re freaks. This…this is wrong,” you sniffled.

He caressed your waist softly and soothingly massaged your sides, rubbing circles into your skin with the pads of his thumbs, kissing away the tears that flowed down your cheeks.

“What’s so wrong about us? What’s so wrong about the way I feel, or the way you feel? Love is love, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

He backed you up slowly until you reached your bed, and laid you down, all the while continuing to whisper words of comfort in your ear.

He sat down beside you. “You’re moving out for college soon and you can come live with me. I’ll have a stable job. We’ll be free.”

You hiccupped and nodded. Your mood began to brighten when you thought about your future together. You just wanted to be with him.

After a few minutes, you felt a hand snaking up your legs to toy at the hem of your panties. You squeaked in protest, but Tobio shushed you.

“You know, I was impressed with your behaviour today, you were being such a good girl for me, weren’t you? Why’d you have to ruin that? Your words made Nii-chan so sad.”

He shifted from his position to trap you between his knees. You made an attempt to shove him off, but he took both your wrists in one hand and pinned them above your head.

“You know that Nii-chan doesn’t like brats. Our parents are still here, but once they leave, you know that I’ll have to punish you, right?”

“Hold on, let me check something.” He dipped a finger into your folds and smirked. “Ah, I was right. You’re wet from playing with my cock earlier. You enjoyed that just as much as I did. My cute little sister loves me this much, huh? It makes me happy.”

Tobio pulled his pants down halfway, tugged your underwear to the side and started grinding his bulge against your core. Your breath hitched in your throat. You could hear the sound of the tv and your parents cleaning up.

“Tobio-nii…hn…. s-stop, Mom and Dad might hear us!”

“Not until you say ‘Nii-chan, I love you’.”

“You said you weren’t going to do anything!”

“When did I say that?” He groaned when he felt your pussy clench over his clothed dick. “Fuck, you’re getting my boxers all damp. You shameless whore, you’re actually getting turned on from this.”

You tried squirming from his touch but accidentally grazed your clit on his erection, causing you to let out a moan. A dark grin appeared on Kageyama’s face, and he stripped off his bottoms, rubbing you with his bare cock.

“Mnh…Nii-chan, I…ah! Love you!” You panted. “I-I said it, so let’s stop already!”

Your lips parted when you felt him ease his length into your entrance.

“I changed my mind. It feels way too good when your sopping cunt is squeezing me like this.”

Your juices dripped down his shaft as he rammed himself harder inside you, hitting all the right places. “You dirty fucking slut, you actually want to get caught, don’t you? You can’t wait to see their expressions as they watch their kids fucking, huh? You just want me to drag you downstairs and take you on the kitchen table, right in front of their eyes, don’t you?”

You couldn’t think rationally, it felt so good; you were already hurtling towards your climax. He captured your lips to prevent your noises from escaping.

When he let you go, you realized that his hand was no longer holding you down. You braced your hands on his firm shoulders and your hips moved to meet his thrusts. You spread your legs open to take him deeper and he cursed at the sensation. “Shit, say it again, say that you love me.”

“Mmn, fuck…love you. Nii-chan, I love you!”

He pounded into you even faster. “That’s right. What’s so wrong about us?” he repeated. “What’s so wrong about a darling sister loving her Nii-chan?”

a/n: ngl it was damn hard to look my parents in the eye after writing this.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu dark content #kageyama smut #kageyama tobio smut #kageyama tobio x reader #cw:incest #kageyama x reader #cw: dubcon #cw: blackmail #hq smut #hq dark content #haikyuu x reader #jia writes

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taecalikook · 4 years

Text

Love, Rekindled.

summary : even if you’d rather cut your tongue short than to admit it, love was easy when it was with Jungkook—no matter how short it had been. yet when the guy fortuitously joined your company four months ago, he has been an expert in pulling your strings that you’ve been fighting every will to punch in his annoyingly ravishing face. but can you further deny the old feelings to rekindle when a certain company event and a group of gullible friends are involved?

{enemies2lovers! au, ex!au, professional!au}

pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (side kim taehyung)

genre : major fluff, slight angst, mutual pining and smut!

word count : 32.780 (one-shot)

warning ! fingering, sex with feelings, dirty talk, big dick, jealousy, dom(?), raw (use protection yall) its my first smut story soooooooo bear with me lol enjoy!

=====================================

Working directly after you graduate in one of the biggest fast moving consumer goods companies in the country might be the dream. While to an extent it might be true, you realize that you have so many things to sacrifice—including your sanity and personal life.

So one dawn you spent all night working on the procurement report you have to submit to the finance team in just five hours, you are so distressed you bawl your eyes out so hard you feel like it is about to fall off. You were too loud to the point that Namjoon, your roommate, was awakened and had to console and accompany you, finishing the report for another hour until you could finally sleep.

And the next morning when you wake up after only three hours of sleep, you have to drive early in the morning to submit the signed reports to the finance team. You are not ecstatic to say the least. Not only that you had the worst night and don’t have the time to conceal your excessive eye bags, you have to submit the physical report to the most notorious, annoying person to ever exist—Jeon Jungkook.

You don’t even understand why destiny had to be that cruel to pair you with Jungkook for a tad bit too many of your tasks. He is annoying, self-centered, impolite, and probably the worst person that you have ever worked with. And it is quickly proven when you are going to submit the report and stride to his desk, finding he is still calmly typing on the laptop. Irritated by how divine he looks at eight in the morning compared with your hideous self, you slam the report right beside his laptop.

“Here it is. And once again thank you for making me change every fucking numbers in that report right the night before.” You hisses, folding your arms in front of your chest. He looks up to you with a grin, his fingers swiftly opening the report.

“I’m sorry, dear but if you wanna complain, you can directly do it to your boss.” He chuckles lightheartedly, and you roll your eyes in disgust. How can he still be this composed is beyond you. “And besides, it’s your team who mistakenly input the data. How is it my fault?”

“I can actually give you an essay for that as an answer, but I don’t want to violate the rules since we are now in working hours.” You harshly respond, tapping your feet impatiently while his eyes are skimming the report.

Another five minutes until Jungkook closes the report with a loud tap and smirk in mirth at your obvious disconcert. “So is that an invitation for a meet-up outside working hours?”

You hiss after hearing such an expected sentence coming out from the jerk. He really is that self-centered, and it shouldn’t have baffled you by now. “I hope you are very well aware that you are annoying and I don’t like you.”

“I am aware of that, beautiful. You have explicitly reminded me in every email chain—better tell me something I don’t know.”

“Nah, I don’t have anything good to say for you.” You scoff and stomp your heels around to leave him behind. The fury is still booming inside your head, so you repetitively let go of your breath, trying to detox your mind of his annoying, but forsakenly handsome face of that jerk out of your mind.

After arriving at your desk, you throw your belongings on the desk and sit on your seat after sighing loudly. It immediately attracts the attention of one of the team peers who sits beside you, Hoseok.

“Wow. Why the long face, Y/N? It’s Friday, lighten up a little.”

“I literally cannot ‘lighten up’ if I keep on working with Jeon Jungkook. Is there any way I can just… not see him or contact him even just for a day? Or even better, forever?!” You hiss while raucously opening your laptop. Hoseok chuckles in amusement.

“Y/N, I don’t know why you are so against the guy. Yes, I know he might be a little cocky—”

“A little?!” You immediately cut Hoseok, but he has been in this conversation too many times before to know that he needs to continue before you begin your patriotic speech of why Jungkook doesn’t deserve anything good in his life.

“—but he is not that bad. People, especially girls like the guy. He is great looking, charming and good with words. One of the best in his team too, even with such short time joining the company I even heard he might be promoted soon. I think you should give him a chance.” Hoseok shrugs.

You huff and stare at Hoseok in heavy betrayal painted in your face. “That’s not going to happen, Hoseok. Yes, I know people might be blind and think so highly of that cocky ass jerk, but you are my friend and should be educated about not seeing one person only by the assumption of other people. Jungkook is not as good as everyone thinks he is.”

“But why? I know you, Y/N. And I know this is not hatred only based on work—there is something else that happened.” Hoseok calmly speaks his mind, but it successfully throws you off guard. Not that you want to admit it, you are well aware that the dislike you got for the guy is not majorly caused by professional work. But you’d rather bite your hand off rather than voluntarily telling it to someone else.

Seeing how silent you have become, Hoseok immediately turns aghast. “Just a shot in the dark... Did you sleep with this guy before?”

The thought immediately puts you to shame and your face turns vermillion. God, how can he say that?! “What are you saying?!” You squeal in alarm, and you do realize you are too shocked to even speak clearly right now. Damn Hoseok and his outstanding deduction skill! “You are talking nonsense now, Hobi. Why-why would—fuck this I’m going to the restroom.”

You can hear Hoseok's distinctive laughter behind you when you stride towards the restroom, and the desire to knock your head to the wall is too much. You are literally fucked.

After working hours, you are finally able to escape the office and ask Namjoon to accompany you and eat in your favorite steak restaurant near both your offices. Namjoon looks at you munching on your steak like a starved woman while silently sipping his glass of red wine.

“Well, I never understood how people say they can get full only by seeing someone else eat, but I kinda get it now.”

You glare at him and hiss, stabbing the steak with your fork in pique. “Stop bothering me! I hate it. I hate everything! Work sucks, life sucks, everything sucks. And I literally don’t have any friends to hangout on friday night beside my own roommate whom I see nearly 24/7. I really had no life beside work it’s embarrassing—”

Namjoon winces, and you immediately halt every movement and stare at him in shock. You know that gaze. It literally screams apology and regret.

“About that…”

You gasp and smash your utensils in the table that few other people are glancing weirdly your way, but you cannot care enough about those prodding eyes. “No! You can’t do this to me, Namjoon! You are ditching me tonight, aren’t you?!”

He grimaces. “I’m sorry, Y/N but I promised the guys for drinking tonight. It’s already planned since god knows when, I can’t bail on them.” You sigh, massaging your aching temple. Noticing how upset you’ve been—probably due to the possibility of ending the stressful weekend only in your pajamas watching bad tv shows, Namjoon quickly continues. “But you can come if you want! We would love to have you there.”

You suddenly put your hand together, moving closer to Namjoon in vivid interest. There’s a possibility to drink your pain away tonight and you are all down for it. “I would love to! I am so stressed lately, I desperately need an outlet. I am going crazy for this work and another second just sitting around I will go mad. And I would love to hangout with the guys! It’s Seokjin, Hoseok, and the others right?!”

“Yeah… about that.” Namjoon’s hesitance is too obvious that you immediately squint your eyes in suspicion. “Yes, I’m with those guys. But there is one additional person joining us and… you won’t like it.”

You giggle at his concern, easily shrugging it away. “Who? I don’t think so, Namjoon. Don’t underestimate me, I may not be as friendly or outgoing as you are, but I can manage to meet new people well and—”

“It’s Jeon Jungkook.”

You immediately close your eyes and heave a breath, your fingers are gripping hard on the edge of the table until Namjoon literally had to move his chair a step back out of fright. It is not the first time he had to face your immeasurable wreath, and it is literally not a good sight he’d do anything to avoid it to happen ever again.

“Why?! In what circumstances would you ever hang out with that bastard?!”

“It just happened! Jimin is friends with the guy, both are from the same department as well. He is new and nice—to us, at least.” He quickly adds before you go into a screaming match yet again. “It’s harmless! And he needs friends too, Y/N. He is new in the city, and doesn't have many friends. I still have no idea how you can even hate the guy when he literally just entered his four months in town.”

You look up to Namjoon aloofly. Jungkook has no friends? What happened to the jerk you knew a few years back? He seemed to be doing well with his bunch of jerks he called as friends. “Pssh—I don’t really care about that. Just do whatever you want!” You childishly pout and continue in stabbing your steak. You know that with Namjoon you can always count on him being a brother that would gladly endure your annoying traits and childishness.

“Hey, I am sorry. Don’t be mad, okay? What if we get ice cream tomorrow, hmm?” He kindly persuades and then you are unable to prolong your fake burst. There is no way you can stay mad at him, as he is literally a heaven-sent angel to you. You don’t even know how you can stay sane if it weren’t for your kind roommate.

“M‘kay. But you’re paying and I am taking home a litre of shooting star ice cream.”

Namjoon sighs and you giggle at his easy forfeit. “You are neither easy on the eyes nor to my wallet. I hope you understand how generous I am to still want to participate in this friendship.”

“By the way, have you seen VoE email this afternoon?” Namjoon nonchalantly asks, smiling to the waitress that places his own steak. You meekly shake your head, cause ain’t nobody got time to read another email from the Voice of Employee team. You already arranged your inbox neatly and automated those emails to be placed inside the folder which named ‘emails i probably will never read ever in this lifetime’. “I shouldn’t have asked, of course you haven’t.” He continues, unimpressed and you grin devilishly at that.

“So, they announced the new employee engagement event. This year’s event is kind of a blind pen pal thingy that is arranged by Jimin.” Namjoon explains while cutting his steak in boxes. “Albeit lame, I thought it was kind of interesting. You should join, you know?”

“Pen pal?” You scrunch your eyebrow. The idea is not appalling even a little to you. “Really? What year does he think it is?”

“It could be fun! You know it must be nice meeting new people across the company. Funny that they also recommend the participant to hide their identities and stay anonymous while chatting at least for the first few weeks.”

“What? That’s so lame! Why do they have these kinds of things?!” You giggle and shake your head in.

“Actually, because people like you, Y/N. You said yourself that you had no friends and life outside work. It could be great to meet someone new and talk freely, even in the company. It’s also good that it’s anonymous in the first weeks so people won't be judgy and busy talking about work stuff and making friends instead.” Namjoon replies back and you pretend hurt at the truth shoved at your face.

“Ouch! That hurts.” You jokingly wince but nonetheless shrug. “I think it kinda made sense, but I think I’ll pass.”

“Oh, come on! It can't be that bad.” Namjoon groans at your stubbornness. “You know you have to pick an employee engagement event. If you choose to go with your boss for the fishing competition event when you know he’ll talk about work all the time, I’ll gladly say go for it. And you literally can’t even boil water, there’s no way you’ll be joining the ‘masterchef’ event. Or that singing competition! Are you kidding me? No way.”

You sigh at the reminder since Namjoon is indeed correct. There’s no way you’d be joining the other engagement events since you are talentless in nearly any other area, and whilst pretending you can cook might be interesting, the possibility of burning the whole kitchen is not since you are not risking the lives of others because of your carelessness. And singing is the one you already gave up on. You are not embarrassing yourself and be the joke of the year in front of your boss and colleagues.

“Gosh..I hate it when you are correct. I’ll think about it later, okay?” You frustratedly hiss, ruffling your hair in distress. “Let’s talk about something else, please.”

After another half an hour chatting while you finish your food, you and Namjoon quickly pay with another dramatic debate of which one of you will pay. After humorlessly swearing that you will twist his figurine if he still insists on paying, you easily win the debate and pay instead.

“So, are you going straight to the bar?” You inquire after walking out of the restaurant. Namjoon hums and swiftly picks the phone from his pocket, checking his friend’s current whereabouts.

“Nope, I think they should be here anytime soon, but—”

“Namjoon! Y/N!”

Both of your eyes quickly divert to three guys coming your way. It’s Jimin’s jovial voice calling your name, Hoseok beside him and… Jungkook. The huff instinctively comes out of your mouth after noticing the guy wearing a blue navy buttoned up shirt who irritatingly still looks too good for him. Noticing that Jungkook’s intense gaze is never diverted from you, you quickly shift your face somewhere else.

“You guys finished the dinner?” Jimin asks and you nod with a smile. “Ah, long time talking to you again, Y/N! I am sad we don’t get to work together again.”

You giggle, definitely sensing the irony in his sentence. The fact that he is assigned to another project in Finance was the biggest turning hill in your career, as it was also the point you were introduced to Jeon Jungkook, as the new hire who replaced him and whom you would be working closely with. You don’t even want to remember how stricken and betrayed you felt at that time.

“Yup, true.” You quickly smile and clearly avoid both Jungkook whom you detect is still staring at you and Hoseok who is literally glancing at Jungkook staring at you. This is getting ridiculous and you detest each awkward second spent with these men.

“Hey! You guys know that we are sending the last reminder for choosing an employee event!” Jimin suddenly chirps and you wince. “I noticed you guys haven’t been picking yours.”

“Last reminder? I thought it was just announced this afternoon.” Namjoon innocently asks while scratching his temple. Jimin instantly sighs in distress.

“I began sending it two weeks ago, Namjoon. Damn it!” He hisses and Namjoon immediately points at you.

“Y/N didn’t even read the email!” You slap his shoulder quickly in embarrassment. Jimin looks at you in disappointment and you smile, inevitably guilty for him.

“You guys are such a pain in the ass. I’ll be waiting for your emails monday morning. And please do pick the pen pal option arranged by me!” He singsongs proudly. You nod dubiously. “There’s a lot in store and I can guarantee you it would be very fun!”

You are still nodding, before looking to Namjoon. Freaking Jungkook is still reading you like you are a book, so you need to head out fast before anything unwanted happens. “So, I think I’ll head out first. You guys have fun—”

“Let’s go together! I parked in our usual.” Namjoon says and you briskly nod, your legs are desperate to put distance between you and Jungkook’s intense and unnecessary stare. You bite your tongue to hold yourself from snapping. Seriously, what is wrong with that guy?!

“Namjoon, Jungkook is going with you, he didn’t bring his car. Hoseok is pooling with me, we need to stop somewhere first.” Jimin nonchalantly mentions but you are immediately struck. Why?! Why would Jungkook pool with Namjoon? It means that you are going to spend another five minutes walking to your car parked in the basement where you’ll have to spend an elevator ride with him. Ugh, even the thought repulses you.

“Let’s go. Seokjin and Yoongi are already on the way to the bar and ten bucks say Yoongi is cranky as fuck now.” Hoseok wriggles his eyebrows at you. You reponds by mouthing him curse words as you know what he is implying. He is clearly having fun at your misery.

“Y/N, let’s go.” Namjoon quickly intercepts your clear avoidance for Jungkook by pulling you by the elbow. He gestures Jungkook to follow behind the two of you.

It was only uncomfortable silence even inside the lift that descends to the parking lot. You are this close to Jungkook, but you are still feeling his wary glances on your skin. It is too much of a burden and your last string snaps, unable to hold yourself.

“Is there something on my face?” You spit at him. Jungkook immediately looks away. Instead of answering with another trash reply, he decides to stay silent. Well, that’s new.

“So, tomorrow we need to choose an employee event. Can I sign you up for the pen pal one?” Namjoon asks suddenly, probably trying to take your minds off things, especially the fury you have for Jungkook.

“Namjoon, I don’t think so. At this rate I think I’ll just join that fishing one.”

Suddenly, an unexpected voice behind you is heard. “I don’t know, but they say fishing needs patience and you clearly are lacking that one, Y/N.”

You immediately throw your head back and glare at Jungkook. He nonchalantly looks back like he did not just diss you. “The fuck you say?!”

“I said what I said. I thought you’d know that by now.” He smiles civilly, and you just know he is the one begging you to snap and scratch your claws at him.

“Come here you little shit—“

Namjoon instantly holds you by the waist, stopping all your movement. “Y/N, don’t! Let’s go now.” He reliably holds you and leads you back to your car until Jungkook is safely out of your sight.

“Y/N, enough. It doesn’t matter. Just go home and take some rest.” He persuades and you have to take multiple breathes in and out to calm yourself. “I know you are angry but please don’t run him with your car.” He jokes, but you immediately form a chilling smirk with your lips.

“That’s a great idea, actually.” You vigorously pat your wheels.

“Y/N, I was joking, please—“

You giggle at his clear fright. “I’m joking too. I’m okay, Namjoon. He was just being a jerk again. I got used to it. That’s not even the most hurtful thing he said to me. I’m fine.”

Namjoon heaves a breath and moves to pat your head with a grin. “You gave me a fright, you fool. Drive save, okay? Let me know when you’re home.”

You hum and Namjoon moves to close your door. You move your car and catch Jungkook standing on the side. He was waving at you with a condescending smile, the one you answer by flipping him off.

It’s been nearly two in the morning. You are exhausted, but your body is still too much alive to be sleeping right now. At times, your body is still accustomed to your college routine when you’d only be sleepy when there’s still so much to do. Usually at these times, you would be watching movies with Namjoon, commenting on every single thing you can comment about the movie while he’d do anything to shut you up.

Already going to the sixth episode of your netflix series, you glance at your phone. Speaking of Namjoon, you notice that he hasn’t given you any signs of going back home. He always does, especially when drinking out with friends. The thought suddenly scares you that something might have happened to him, so you quickly dial his number.

Three beeps and finally someone picks up. “Hello? Namjoon? Where are you? Are you not coming home? If you’re not you should’ve told me sooner!”

An incoherent groan is heard along with a faint voice of someone you’d rather not mention. Another seconds of silence until an abrupt deafening, slurry voice is heard. It’s still him. Jeon Jungkook. “Y/N, can you help us? Namjoon passed out and I am not completely sober enough to drive. Come here and get us, please?”

“Ugh, get a taxi! It’s freaking two in the morning, I don’t want to go.” You groan, even if inside you are contemplating. Namjoon is drunk, and he brought his car with him. You’ll not be able to sleep if knowing he is out there drunk and in need of help. “Where are the others? Can’t they get you home?”

Five seconds of awkward whimpering of Jungkook babies himself, refusing to give Namjoon’s phone to someone else. It turns out to be Yoongi, also your workmate from IT. ”Y/N? Y/N! I am so happy you picked up. Can you get these guys? Everyone here beside me is drunk, and this petite body of mine can only take Hoseok and Jimin since they’re in my building as well. Can you please get your huge ass roommate home?”

You sigh, aloofly agreeing to help Yoongi. The place they are drinking is not far from your apartment, so not even bothering to change your peppa pig pajamas, you overlay it with a peach sweater and hitch a taxi right after.

Not even fifteen minutes on the way you finally arrive. The bar itself was rather vacant, the music has changed, and you can immediately detect a group of moron on the corner booth of the bar, looking severely drunk. Detecting your presence, Yoongi instantly lightens up.

“Y/N! Y/N thank god.” Yoongi exhales. “I really fucking desprate to go home. Can you bring Namjoon and Jungkook together? Jungkook lives near your apartment, and he is not that drunk. Just drop him off in front of his buildings, or whatever.”

You groan in distaste. “Really? I really have to bring this guy with me?” You peer your squinted eyes at Jungkook who is limping to stand beside you.

Jungkook rests his palm on your shoulder with an intoxicated smile, wiggling his eyebrows. “Yes. Let me come along, Y/N. I promise we’ll have fun, hmm?”

You instantly push him away in disgust, the empathy you surprisingly have for him has disappeared into thin air. “I’m not getting in any car with you, jackass. Have a great time sleeping on the street.”

Yoongi groans at your stubbornness. It is not an uncommon sight as he is already well informed of your bad blood with Jungkook. “Y/N, for the love of god please stop arguing with a drunk idiot and lets just go fucking home.”

Still scowling, you move to wake up Namjoon, circling his arms around your shoulder. Jungkook is somehow still sober enough to voluntarily help you carrying the giant to his car. After safely securing Namjoon on the back, you stride to the driver seat and Jungkook follows to sit on the passenger seat beside you. Driving out, it was only cold silence inside the car that you have to glance to see if Jungkook is asleep. It turns out he is not sleeping, instead catching him stealing glances at you.

“What the hell are you looking at?” You frown at him. He shrugs, diverting his eyes to the window. Another three minutes of silence until he opens his voice.

“Are you dating Namjoon?”

You stare at him, befuddled. What the fuck is he prattling about? “I am quite certain it is none of your business. Why are you asking anyway?”

“Nothing, just a question. You don’t have to answer.” He somberly responds, not mimicking the edge in your tone the way you expect him to. It leaves a sour taste in your tongue, feeling guilty in such a strange way.

“Namjoon and the other asked me why we hate each other so much.”

At the sudden information, your body tense. Namjoon asked him? Did he possibly tell the guys about what happened between the two of you? Even the thought only scares your whole being. “And what did you say?”

He heaves a deep breath once again. “I said I don’t not hate you. You may hate me, but I never hate you.”

The answer and his tone is astoundingly civil, so you glance at him in confusion. Hard to believe it is him talking right now. “What are you saying?”

He massages his temple. “I never hate you, Y/N. I know. I know what happened between us. And even if it’s too late, I know I was wrong and you have all rights to be furious at me.”

The fingers you have on the wheel tightens. You don’t know why you feel this way. The moment Jungkook acknowledges the mistakes he has made, it seems like everything shifts into a different light. You bit your lips in irresolution. Is it actually you who is too irrational not to let go something that is clearly in the past?

As if not realizing your current distress, Jungkook continues. “I know there is no time we’re not at each other’s throat, but I always wanted to ask how you’ve been. Are you living okay? How is your family, is everything good now?”

At his questions, you find yourself snapped. You don’t need it. You don’t need his sympathy. All things he said are never going to change what he did, and frankly it is too hard to imagine he might have changed. You had enough of him and his bullshit and one thing you will never do is to repeat history again. You are not that much of an idiot.

“Save it, Jungkook. I don’t want to hear it.” You shakily say, the tears are already swarming at the corner of your eyes. “I’ve had it enough. I am not going back again to that phase again. You hurt me, bad. And I’m not an idiot whom you can fool around with and will be there at your doorstep the moment you want it.”

“Y/N, I—”

You immediately step on the break that jerks everyone inside the car including you. “This is your apartment, right?” If you’re explicit gesture for him to fuck off is not clear, you don’t know what is—but it seems like he understands well enough and reluctantly nods. Releasing his seatbelt, he gazes at you again, eyes swarming with anonymous emotion.

“Just so you know, I never told them anything—what happened between us, I mean. I’ll never say that to anybody. If you still hate me this much, I know it’s not my place to tell.”

You are still unmoving, only looking straight ahead as he dejectedly continues. “I know this is wistful thinking, but I wish we can sometime talk, Y/N. Just talk. Like two people who are not desperate to hurt each other, or to bicker, or anything.”

You shift your head, ironically smirk at him with tears already falling down your face. Talk? Now he wants to talk to you? Does he think you’re a joke? He is a bastard and you should’ve known better than to deal further with him again.

“Well, maybe you’ve lost your chance to talk when you told me to fuck off that time.”

After spending all weekend balled up inside your blanket while Namjoon constantly queried you about what happened, it is finally Monday morning. You woke up in a troubled mood, all because the first thing you do in the morning is to prepare for the 8.30 meeting you have with your boss and team, in which one person from finance is invited and it is freaking Jeon Jungkook. You literally have no idea what happened to your luck, since everything seems to be going downhill recently.

Arriving exactly in time, you can see two of your planning teammates, Hoseok and Jungkook are already seated. You greet them and directly take a seat beside Hoseok, silently opening your laptop to prepare the meeting, trying to be as nonchalant as ever. You notice that Jungkook is avoiding your eyes at all costs, and you are grateful for it. Your boss arrives directly in a minute, and then the meeting starts.

An hour into the meeting, your boss finally concludes. While you are arranging your belongings, your boss unexpectedly asks. “Y/N, for the employee engagement. Which one do you choose? If you’re still unsure, you should pick fishing. We can team up, and maybe talk about the project—”

The thoughts alone scares you and you abruptly answer in panic. Inside you are cursing Namjoon and his great predicting skills. “No, sir. I am picking the pen pal one. Might be great to meet and make new friends.”

He nods in understanding, and right after he walks out of the meeting room Hoseok chuckles. “Smart choice, Y/N. Otherwise you'll be stuck discussing work and faking laughs all the time.”

Smiling, you look up to Jungkook who stands near you. You feel the cold of nerves over his intimidating presence.

“Gotta go, talk to you another time.”

He quickly walks out, a tad bit surprising to both you and Hoseok. There is something different about Jungkook—he is not the confident, all-rounders man he used to be. There is a hint of rush in his voice and you might have an idea why.

“So, have you received your pen pal username?”

You look up to Namjoon, before re-reading the email Jimin sent to you yesterday about the person you are going to be anonymously chatting with. You’ve already downloaded the chatting applications, signing up yourself yesterday and now it’s you who should add and start the chat.

“Yes. I have, actually.” You breath out, before throwing it back on the sofa. “I don’t even know why I’m nervous! This doesn’t make sense. This is just talking, Y/N. Get your shit together.”

“I am now chatting with a certain person, username doofenshmirtz.” Namjoon mentions while typing on his phone. “I don’t know whether this is a good sign that she or he loves doctor doofenshmirtz or just another heartless jerk like anybody else.”

“Well if it's the preceding, he or she is indeed a keeper.” You hum in agreement, finally braving yourself to add. But now you have to begin the chat! God, this is indeed a struggle. “I am so awkward. What do people usually say to introduce themselves?”

“Well, most people usually go with a simple ‘hello’.”

You sigh at Namjoon’s useless advice, but when you are typing, sudden pop up chats arrive, shocking you altogether.

91snowball : wow, this really work [21:38]

91snowball : tell me if i’m correct or fuck it i’ll just delete this app now [21:39]

“Snowball is chatting with me right now!” You freak out, raise to your knees in tension. “Namjoon, what should I do! I don’t know what to say!”

Namjoon weirdly glances at you, then proceeds to continue whatever he is doing on his phone. “Just say something. Why are you thinking about it too much…”

blueberry_25 : yes i think we are pen pals😅 [21:40]

91snowball : ah, finally [21:40]

91snowball : so get this, blueberry_25. Which one travels faster? hot or cold [21:40]

Your eyebrows wrinkle at the unexpected riddle, but giggle otherwise. “My pen pal just asked me a riddle. Which one travels faster, hot or cold.”

Namjoon groans in disgust. “If the answer is hot because you can catch a cold you better block that person right now. That’s super fucking lame, what the hell.”

blueberry_25 : did you just search ice breaking riddles at google because i read the same one you asked me lol [21:42]

91snowball : wtf haha thats embarrassing but since you did too im fine 🥴 [21:43]

But soon enough, you find yourself chatting to snowball until nearly two in the morning. It is beyond you how easy it is to talk with him, about the recent movies, your unending love for how i met your mother, his addiction to brooklyn nine nine, and a little about each other. You know he is a male around your age (as you decide not to disclose age, just range) and he loves skiing. You tell him about your love of classical and grunge music—in which fascinates him due to the heavy contrast of the two—and ending it with a debate about which music defines puberty the most, my chemical romance or fall out boy. Both of you agree to end it with a draw.

In the end, snowball kindly reminds you you should be sleeping and have a good rest for tomorrow’s work. Reluctantly agreeing, you thank him and say you’re looking forward to the next chat. Even with the exhaustion you feel, you can only fall asleep after reading your exhilarating chat with him for one more time.

You forget how easy it is to talk to someone new. Or maybe you have been trying to forget you ever did.

Walking to your desk, you rest all your belongings and open your laptop. Hoseok beside you instantly slides his chair next to yours, eyes squinted and eyebrows scrunched.

“Why the fuck are you singing in nine in the morning, that’s so unlike you.”

You look at him in confusion. Are you singing? You did not even realize. “Oh, am I singing? Sorry if it bothers you, I didn’t know.”

The horrified look in Hoseok’s face is getting prominent. “You literally never apologize in the mornings. You always have a foul mood with an ugly frown on your face. Tell me who kidnapped you! Are you even Y/N?!”

You roll your eyes at his dramatic response. “Yes, I know I haven’t been in the best mood lately, but just let me live, okay? And why is this chocolate on my desk, this is yours.”

Hoseok looks at the ferrero rocher leaning on your desk with the small card on it. “It’s not mine. But let me check.” He swiftly takes the chocolate and pulls the card, his eyes scanning the words written on it. Five seconds passes before the mirth is detected on his face.

“This is not mine, this is for you.”

Flustered, you quickly take the card back from Hoseok’s grasp and read it. Someone is sending you chocolate, along with a hot pack glued on the back, and you don’t have any idea who or why.

It might be a little cold since it’s November soon, so here's a hot pack and also chocolate for you. Hope you’re having a great day today, Y/N!

“Wow, a secret admirer? The fuck, this is 2020–who does that anymore.” Hoseok cringes while getting back to his seat. Even so, he quickly opens his skype with a mischievous smile on his face. What an obvious moron, he giggles to himself.

“I told you a million times it is not me, Y/N.”

It is lunch at your office cafeteria, while Namjoon looks at you in distress at your accusation of him sending the chocolate you also bring with you to lunch. Hoseok is silently sitting in front of both of you, with Yoongi and Jimin on both his sides.

“But who else? There is no one supportive enough to send me a chocolate and a freaking hot pack beside you.” You huff while cutting your broccoli. Namjoon sighs, glancing at Hoseok discreetly.

“Even though I’m honored that I’m the only one who is strong enough to be your emotional support, it’s not me, and—“

“Enough about that! Hey, how’s it going with your pen pal?” Jimin suddenly asks, a wide smile on his face. You expect Jimin to ask the question to anyone, so when you notice the table is too silent you find everyone is peering at you.

“Why are you asking me?! Ask Hoseok.”

“It was so so. A man from HR.” Hoseok nonchalantly answers. “And we only introduced ourselves last night.”

“Mine was fine! She’s a girl from procurement.” Namjoon smiles. “But yeah, we just introduced ourselves last night. Maybe I should talk to her again today.”

“I just knew he is a guy. I didn’t really know where he’s from, but he’s around my age. It was great! He was very kind, and we had fun.” You nod silently.

“Fun? You literally were laughing like a hyena at 2 in the morning. I heard it through the wall.” Namjoon snorts and you side-glare him. Namjoon’s loose lips again, what’s new. “I figure it must be your pen pal, right? What ‘fun’ were you having, Y/N?”

“You’re literally disgusting, Namjoon.”

“Hey, Jungkook! Sit here!”

You instantly look up, finding Jungkook’s eyes peering at your desk, a tray of food in his grasp. You don’t really know why, you really thought he was heading to your table—but when his eyes find yours, he immediately pauses on his step. “Ah, sorry but I am here with someone.” He thinly smiles and excuses himself.

Unable to hold yourself, you look to your back and find him sitting with the tables of girls whom you recognize is also in finance. You are not certain if it is only you, but those girls really seem to be too amazed at his presence, instantly leeching themselves to him. Even if it’s not really a strange view to you, it is difficult to hold back your scoff.

Same old, same old.

You are waiting in the lobby of your office for Namjoon, since you are not bringing your car with you today. He said he’ll come down soon, so you are waiting patiently—but then a pair catches your attention from the corner of your eyes. It is Jungkook and Seojoo—the one you recognize also from Finance who was also at lunch with him.

You don’t even realize your eyes are squinted at those two, along with a scowl on your face. But at the possibility of being caught, you instinctively divert your eyes and duck your head to the other side. Even still Jungkook somehow is still able to capture you and head to your side. At that you internally curse.

“Y/N, why are you here? You’re not heading home?” He asks in concern, closing to you while your eyebrows wrinkle at his so-called familiarity. What is he doing talking so assertively—does he really think you are on that basis with him?

“I’m waiting for someone.” You curtly answer, not even a shift in your expression.

“Who?”

You look at him while scrunching your eyebrows. What the hell does he think he has a right to ask you that? “No one. It’s okay, I’m going home.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go with us? Seojoo here is pooling with me—Ah, sorry I was impolite. Do you know each other?” Jungkook asks, like he is suddenly waking up that there is someone beside the two of you. Holding back your snort, you put a strict smile and offer your hand to the woman who is not even concerned to hide even a bit of her judgmental eyes at you.

“Seojoo.” She whispers which you mutter your name as a response and fuck is it awkward. You can obviously feel that Seojoo is marking his territory around Jungkook and you don’t fancy it one bit. Why does she have to feel that way towards you?

“Seojoo, you said you are going to the restroom. Aren’t you going?” Jungkook suddenly asks after your short and tense introduction. At that, Seojoo is bewildered, presumably bothered by the thought of leaving you alone with him, like you are going to eat him up right after she leaves. Fuck, what is wrong with her...

She hesitates, “I’m fine, though—”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll be waiting here. You can go.” Jungkook amicably says with a wide smile, and the insecure chick had no other option than to comply. After she leaves, his prodding eyes are immediately focused on you.

“Can you just say to that fling of yours that I am just a nobody? I will not steal you, damn it. If looks can kill I’ll already bleed to death right now.” You scowl in irk. But just seeing your scowl somehow brings giggles to his smile. “Why are you laughing, you dumbass?”

“You know what, if I’m that presumptuous I’d think you are jealous right now.”

You scrunch your nose, severely abhorred by his annoying big head. “But you are that presumptuous.”

“Exactly.”

Irritated, you push him by the chest until he erupts in loud laughter. “Fuck, why should I be jealous? We are literally nothing and will never be more than that—Gosh, we’re not even friends.”

“Well that’s just saddening.” He frowns while clutching on his chest even though he cannot say it’s not expected. “What are you saying, Y/N? We are more than that, we go way back and you know it.”

You hum and fake a contemplating expression. “Hmm, you’re right but I’m drawing blanks here. How did it go again?”

The wide mischievous grin on his lips dims, shifts into a thin smile. “I could not change the past, I know. But you know regardless of what happened—”

“I’m done.” Seojoo suddenly says, clings on Jungkook’s arm that it stops whatever words he is about to say and you are kind of thankful for that. “We can go now.”

Finally detecting Namjoon tapping out to the lobby in such perfect timing, you send both of the morons a lofty grin. “I should go. You guys have fun, but don’t forget a condom, okay?” You turn your gaze to flabbergasted Seojoo. “Or you know what? Maybe you should prick on it too, so then he’ll stay forever. But if I were you, I wouldn’t count on it. Good luck!”

You can sense the jaw drops at such provocative statements coming out of you, but you don’t even give an ounce of care and leave the scene. After managing to humiliate or hurt both of them, you feel good. You feel strong. However, when Namjoon is at your side and glances at you, he shouts, utterly stupefied.

“Y/N, why—why are you crying?!”

It’s eleven pm, you are still settled inside your blanket. You are physically tired, but still your mind is too conflicted to sleep. Half is because of your work, and the other half is caused by that freaking jerk, Jeon Jungkook.

You despise the fact that you are still thinking about him. You suppose to be hating on that guy, but even the hatred is too difficult to maintain right now with his strangely devoted and warm self. Even if it’s a hard to swallow pill, you know you’re enjoying the banter with him. God, you are fucking weak for Jungkook and you hate it.

Rolling in your bed, you try to remember the bad things he has done for you. Forgetting you, abandoning you, playing with your heart like it did not matter—but it eventually ends with the treasured moments with him you wish will never resurface again. Like the moment he holds you all night after your parents fight. Or the moment he defends your honor like it matters the most. Or the moment he first kissed you that fateful, rainy night. Everything is coming back to you now like a trainwreck.

Suddenly among your wandering thoughts, your phone rings. Heaving deeply, you pick up to detect a new message on your anonymous chatting apps. It’s snowball.

91snowball : hi hi hi hi hi what are you doing [23:02]

91snowball : are you sleeping no you cant be sleeping dont sleep on me blue [23:02]

Chuckling, you proceed to type a response.

blueberry_25 : hahaha im not sleeping [23:03]

blueberry_25 : i can’t sleep. Too much thoughts [23:03]

91snowball : care to share? I swear im a good listener [23:05]

91snowball : someone bothering you at work? let me know and ill gass ‘em up for u blue [23:05]

blueberry_25 : really? you’d do that for me? [23:06]

91snowball : of course just tell me who it is they’ll be gone by tomorrow [23:06]

blueberry_25 : lol it’s nothing. Im just confused [23:07]

blueberry_25 : have u ever been confused about someone? Like u thought u hate them but… its hard to say you do [23:09]

You don’t even know why you just have the urge to tell a stranger about your current contemplation about Jungkook. You desperately need a third perspective on this, and maybe just telling it to someone that wouldn’t know and judge you might be a good change for once.

91snowball : why do u hate them? [23:09]

Blueberry_25 : he hurt and lied to me. when i thought there was something real, he was just in for fun and i should hate him. but why is it so hard to say so now? [23:10]

It’s true. Jungkook was someone you thought you’d love. You trust him so much that you opened up to him better than anyone else, and thought something was there. But all of it was just a lie—he was just in for the thrill. All because of his annoying male ego that made you realize he was just a patronizing jerk that used you for his own benefit and left when he’s done. He is the reason you are insecure about meeting someone new. He is the evil one.

91snowball : maybe because they changed? I know its hard to believe but people change too [23:12]

blueberry_25 : maybe… [23:14]

91snowball : what i’m saying, maybe you should give them a chance to explain? [23:15]

91snowball : but if they’re still the same, punch them and never see them again [23:16]

91snowball : you don’t want to be thinking about it forever, blue. just give the closure your heart deserves [23:17]

He is right, you desperately need closure with Jungkook so you can finally move on with your life—but even the thought scares you. A question arises inside your head that settles strangely in your chest—a question that answers why all your pain and resentment are still so vivid even after years have passed.

Closure with Jungkook scares you… Because you do not know if you’re ready to close it.

Another late night, but you are still sitting at your desk. All of your teams already went back, and Namjoon told you he went home an hour ago. He did offer to keep you company, but you quickly refuse, saying you’re doing alright on your own—but now you indeed start to regret your decision. You hate being alone, especially at night but you really need to finish the planning report asap for finance to check again. Seriously, these endless tasks are going to be the death of you.

“Why is this—” You furiously tap on backspace, anger rises inside your head. You have no idea why the recent planning process has too many hiccups like this. The data given to you is not tally, and you don’t even know why. There must be something wrong.

Among the stress inside your head, your eyes fall at the lilies resting on your desk and smiles. Your eyes linger on the notes stuck on it for already the nth time already today.

Here’s beautiful lilies for you. Hope you have a great day too today, Y/N!

“Hey, you are still here?”

Surprised, you abruptly look up, finding Jungkook’s concerned face at you. You release a deep breath of relief. “I thought you went home, it’s pretty late.” He continues apprehensively.

You clear your throat, suddenly finding it a bit hard to speak with the realization that it’s only the both of you on the whole level. “Yes, haven’t finished the report I need to submit. No worry, I’ll submit it soon.”

He carefully slides and sits on Hoseok’s seat beside you. “I’m okay if you submit this tomorrow. You should head back, you must be tired.”

“Nah, it’s okay. I just want to finish this tonight, head home and sleep.” You give him a short, civil smile before continuing your work. “You can go home if you want to. I’m okay.”

“I think I’d rather stay. My cousin is having ‘dinner’ with his girlfriend right now, god knows what I might go home to.” He lightly jokes, and it kinda works in entertaining you a little. You know based on your resentment to him you should curtly answer or ask him to leave, but you do know that you’d rather have someone as company right now, even though it has to be Jeon Jungkook.

“You got flowers?” He pensively asks after minutes of silence, raising his eyebrow.

You glance at him staring at the lilies at your desk. Suddenly, your throat dries and you don’t even know why. “Y-yes.”

“From who?”

“I.. I don’t know. Someone put this on my desk this morning.” You whisper, more to yourself. You hate yourself for explaining when you have the right not too, but deep down, this shameless part you are expecting Jungkook might be the one sending all these gifts. You know it makes no sense whatsoever—but involuntarily you are still foolishly hoping so. Yes, you are that delusional.

“A note too? Wow, a secret admirer. How poetic.” He sneers, then shifts his gaze back to his screen. At the obviously sarcastic tone, you scoff in irritation. What a jerk.

“You have a problem with that? What—jealous that you never have someone you truly care to give gifts to?”

He meaningfully stares at you, making it difficult to breathe. “It’s not true and you know it.”

At your befuddled expression, Jungkook sighs, not even wanting to prolong the debate. “But no. None whatsoever. I don’t care, it has nothing to do with me anyway.”

You bite your lips in evident shock and disappointment, and try your best to make the unpleasant thoughts disappear. Did he just implicitly address your past together? About the time he gave you a gift you could never forget for your whole lifetime? About the time when you foolishly thought he was someone you could give your heart to?

A few minutes passed in deep, tense silence and Jungkook is sitting beside you now, working on his own tasks. He is so focused on the screen, with his lean fingers stroking his chiseled jaw and he leans to the seat, eyebrows scrunching like something is bothering him so much. And the scar prominent on his upper left cheek is as palpable as ever, and you notice how much he has changed, but still hasn’t. Jungkook grew up really well from the last time you saw him a few years back. No wonder all the girls are flocking on him like he is a magnet or whatever.

“Hey, Y/N, get this.” Jungkook suddenly turns to you, and albeit surprised, you are trying to look as unfazed as ever—like you did not just spend minutes to admire his attractive features. Even if your face heats up at the possibility of Jungkook finding out your antics. “I see the reports from the planning and other supply chain teams are not tally. This has been going, since approximately two months ago. Do you have any idea why?”

You squint your eyes at the reports. Yes, it is the data you get from Junsu, the new-hire for your team. “I don’t really know why. I got this data from Junsu, he said he received it from the plant team.”

“I really think we should check this. I’m not sure.” Jungkook whispers, chewing on his lower lips. Another seconds of silence passes before he notices your intimidating stare on his face. “...everything okay, Y/N? Something’s bothering you? Are you tired?”

Fuck, you really spend those seconds staring at the way he chewed his lips. There must be something wrong in your head now. “No—no.. I’m just.. Yes! Yes, I’m tired. I think I need to go home.”

Jungkook nods in all seriousness while you are packing your belongings. You need to flee, fast. “Yes, you really should go home and rest. Let’s talk about this tomorrow again, hmm?”

“Yes, yes! Okay, see you tomorrow.” You hastily smile, quickly escape the room without minding his voice calling your name. Damn, you need to set your head straight. It is Jeon Jungkook you’re talking about here. You can’t be weak for him.

The night passess in a blink, and then the morning arrives a tad bit faster than you expect it to. Especially since you wake up to your boss' message, ordering you to come to his desk right after you arrive at the office—which means a disaster happened and you are not mentally prepared for that.

“Y/N, why the hell the sales director called and yelled at me?” Is your boss’ first sentence when you enter his room. You gulp instinctively, then move to proceed to sit because you know it won’t be over before it’s too long.

Another hour and you came out from the room looking as exhausted as ever. There is some mistake in either the planning and manufacturing side that creates untally numbers in reports between units which then escalates to the higher management. And now you have to manually check the numbers without the intervention of people and present it by tomorrow afternoon, which means you will have to go to the plant as of right now—it’s two and a half hours drive from your office.

Feeling terribly unfit to drive due to the pain in your head, you choose to get there by train—in which you spend by checking the numbers again for the first hour, but the pain in your head is getting unbearable and you decide to sleep it off. Few hours later, you finally arrive at the plant, weakly entering the office side of the plant. Upon finding a space to place your belongings, someone immediately catches your attention, finding him talking with a group of people and a stack of paper on his grasp. Are your eyes lying to you right now? Is he really here?

“...Jungkook?”

Hearing his name is called, Jungkook instinctively looks back to find your confused expression. The shock in his expression is palpable too. “Y/N? You’re here.”

“What are you doing here?”

He looks bewildered at your simple question. “I-I am talking to—to these people. Umm.. for my reports.”

Your eyebrows raised, as he should be coordinating with plant finance folks instead of your team. “But they are in supply chain.”

Jungkook is abashed, you sense it clearly. “Y-yes, I just—can we talk about this later? You can join us if you want, this might help you too.”

Decide to ignore the strange fact that he is here, you and Jungkook spend another hour talking to the manufacturing team, and then manage to get the in hand documentations of work orders. After settling inside the empty cubicle, you look at Jungkook who is already eagerly jumping into the documentations. “Hey. Are you here to help me?”

Jungkook looks at you, avoids your eyes and clears his throat. “No, of course not. Why would I? What’s in it for me? You’re talking nonsense now, Y/N.”

“But this shouldn’t be your job to go to the plant and check all the data.” You whisper, more to yourself while looking at the overwhelming stack of papers. “Why are you doing this?”

He suddenly stops, and looks at you with all seriousness painted on his eyes. “Don’t sweat on it, Y/N. Let’s just finish this and get to the bottom of it asap, okay? I am here to help.” Jungkook whispers and manages to silence your retaliation. Yes, you know you are seriously in need of help right now. Doing this alone will not be as helpful as having Jungkook with you, especially having to present the result by tomorrow afternoon—it makes no sense to do it alone.

Two months worth of documentation is a lot and overwhelming. And even after six hours working on it, you can only focus on the amount of work you still need to go through. The looming pain inside your head is not helping either.

“Hey, hey, you are pale, Y/N. What’s wrong?” Jungkook instantly stops when he detects you are unmoving, resting on your chair while closing your eyes. You yourself do not know why you are feeling so unwell today. “Hey, you haven’t eaten, right? Damn it, your blood pressure—wait here, I’ll grab you something to eat.”

Ah, that must be it. You just realized you haven’t eaten anything today beside one slice of bread in the morning. Especially with the low blood pressure, it must be taking a toll on you. But one thing that catches your attention is the fact Jungkook remembers your condition even after all these years—it settles strangely inside your chest.

In no time he is already back with a paper bag. “Here, I brought you this. Let’s eat in the pantry.” He immediately holds you by the shoulder, helping your weak legs to walk to the pantry. After ensuring you are sitting well, he opens the food box and juice and offers you the utensils. “I bought the first thing I saw, this should be good for your blood pressure. Eat.”

You nod thankfully and proceed to eat. After three spoons and a few minutes, you can finally breathe clearly. But as you see that Jungkook is just looking at you expectantly, you feel severely self-aware. “You’re not eating too?” You ask shyly.

Jungkook smiles and scratches his nape abashedly. “Sorry, ‘was so rushed that I forgot to buy one for me.”

He forgot to buy one for himself but buy this one for you? You instinctively offer him the food. “Eat this, then. We can share.”

Jungkook kindly rejects with a smile. “No, I’ll buy something else. Yours is too healthy for me.” He jokes and walks out of the pantry. Finally alone, you stare at the food in front of you, somehow frowning.

“I really think we should go back.” Jungkook stubbornly says after the nth time debating whether you should stay in the office or go back to your two hours away apartment. The answer should be easy—you have to stay back since tomorrow you will be meeting another plant team. Especially since it’s already seven in the evening, and the plant is closing off soon. “But you need to rest! Stop forcing your body, you moron. You seriously can be sick because of your stubbornness, you know?”

“I’ve been through this! You should’ve seen me in college, I do this every single time. I’m good and alive now. See?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, folding his arms to his chest. “Really? And tell me how’d it go again?”

You wince at the remembrance that you were bedrested more than you’re proud of, all because of your bad habits of staying late and overworking yourself. A question arises inside your head, but you briskly push it away. “You know Jungkook, you’re worse than my aunt, you know that?”

He giggles, showing his bunny teeth that somehow knocks the air off your chest. That heartfelt smile, you remember it like it was yesterday. “If you want, we can stay near here somewhere and continue the work. You need to sleep, and in the morning we can go back to the plant.”

“I’ll check the nearest hotel. Get ready, after this we’ll leave, okay?” He says while walking further from your desk. You bite your lips, silently nodding.

Suddenly, your phone rings. It’s Namjoon. You gasp, remembering that you haven’t let him know you are going to be away for work. “Hello, Namjoon?”

“Hey, where are you? I went to your desk two times today, thinking you had a meeting or anything. You haven’t even returned my calls or messages.” He hisses with obvious worry lacing his voice. “When will you be home?”

“Ah, I don’t think I’m going home today. I’m at the plant, have urgent work to finish so I’ll stay in a nearby hotel.”

“Is it safe? Are you okay? Do you want me to pick you up?” The worry and hurry instantly doubles the moment he heard you’ll be staying far away. You giggle, noticing how Namjoon is already too accustomed in taking care and worrying about you.

“It’s fine, you don’t need to worry. By the way, Jungkook is also here—”

“Jungkook?” He immediately cuts you, clearly confused. “The Jeon Jungkook? Your archenemy?”

“Yup.”

Two seconds of silence. “And he’ll be staying with you? In the same hotel?”

“The same hotel, yes! But not the same room. I know what you’re thinking, Namjoon, but it’s nothing—”

Namjoon tauntingly laughs that makes you totally self-conscious of your own skin. “Ah, the beautiful, old devil’s tango you both play. I have nothing to worry about, then. Tell me how it goes, okay? Bye, Y/N, remember to use protection. I’m not ready to be an uncle.”

“The fuck—”

But Namjoon is already cut off, and now you are staring harshly at your phone, your grasp is sucking the life out of your phone. Fuck Namjoon! You know you should never trust a guy who literally ruined a good pair of sunglasses he just bought. Seriously.

“I got one.” Jungkook suddenly interrupts your busy thoughts, walking to your side with a large frown in his lips. “But can you believe it? He said there is a concert near here tomorrow so all the rooms are full beside one large suite, and the other nearest hotel is like eleven kilometers away. What do you think?”

At his statement, your sight is suddenly blurry—all you can think about is fucking Namjoon and what he just said to you.

Ugh, you hate how statistics shows that he is often right, like 95% of the time...

Thinking you have no other choice than to get the one room left, you accept your fate that you have to be in one room with Jeon Jungkook for the rest of the night. Even if the suite only has one king-size bed, you get a compensation of a large suite that the distance you have with him may be kept well—and Jungkook agreed that he will not make any funny business on you after you ultimately warn him that you’ll be submitting charges if he even tries to.

“Y/N, I am not a sexual offender or anything. I will not do anything against your consent.” Jungkook sighs for the nth time as a reply to your threat of stabbing him with a fork. Again. “But it’s a different case if you’re willing…” You instantly send a lethal punch to the guy’s shoulder until he whimpers of pain. “What the—that hurts! I was kidding!”

“I was not kidding.” You roll your eyes, folding your arms on your chest. “This is a bad idea. I don’t even know what I should wear. I don’t want to sleep in my work clothes—and I have to be in a room with a pervert. Can’t you just sleep outside?”

He smirks while stealing glances at you. “You can always sleep naked and I won’t be complaining.”

“Fuck you.”

Jungkook greasily winks at you. “With pleasure.”

You groan in disgust. “God, you’re still the same, annoying piece of shit you were a few years back. I can’t believe this.”

“Well, you dated this piece of shit years ago, so…”

You look at him weirdly. Dated? What is he saying now.. “We were not dating. It was just a fling, you know it.”

Jungkook stares at you, with undeciphered emotions painted on his eyes. “We.. we weren’t?”

“No.”

He clears his throat, his cheeks are suddenly turning red. Your eyebrows slant at the thick air between the both of you. “Y-yes. Yes, of course it wasn’t. I was joking.” He continues with a forced laughter.

You slowly nod, clearing your throat out of sheer awkwardness. What happened between the two of you that time—it was a mere fling. It took nearly months to admit it was just that and nothing more, and now why is he here saying that it’s something more? He probably is just messing with your head, so no need to overthink whatsoever. That’s what got you inside the mess in the first place anyway.

After safely parked in the hotel lobby, you are about to walk out when Jungkook stops you. “I have a change shirt here, you can wear that to sleep. I believe there is a boutique here, so you can buy it for work tomorrow.”

He gives you a pair of clean shirt and pants, while you are only able to look at him with an unknown feeling in your chest. All these things—it feels too familiar to be true. You are unable to resist reminiscing the past. “You remember when I ran away from my house that time? I forgot to bring anything—and you lent me your shirt that time.”

Jungkook looks at you in evident shock, until a smile is suddenly formed on his lips. “Of course I remember. You were crying at that time, I was so panicked. You were wearing my shirt for like.. A full week.”

You giggle, smiling to yourself. Your parents were fighting again at that time, it was because of you. Your mother wants to take you back to Seoul, while your father wants you to stay in the states with him. You were so angry at that time, the fact that they weren’t even thinking to discuss it with you first so you fled, begging Jungkook to accompany you. That’s how you spend a full week running away with him bringing nothing to change into.

“I still can’t believe I stayed in your parent’s house for a full week without them finding out. That’s like… super mind blown.” You giggle again, remembering the time you stayed in his family house. It is undoubtedly one of the best times of your life, sneaking inside Jungkook’s house, staying in and having to spend all your days with him.

“It was crazy.” Jungkook breathes at you, smiling so wide his bunny teeth are visible. “I was so happy that time.”

Suddenly realizing how real it all gets after the unexpected nostalgia, you clear your throat trying to manage your emotions in. You really need to get your head straight. “Wow, this got mushy real quick, right? Let’s—let’s just go in.”

After a good ten minutes, you are settling inside your shared room with Jungkook. It was definitely larger than you think, so it was comforting to say the least. All because you cannot trust yourself when he’s around, and the fact that you’re starting to tolerate the guy isn’t helping either.

“I’m starting on the documentation, you take a shower first.” Jungkook mutters while settling himself on the corner of the room. You nod, and whilst getting ready with the pair of clean clothes he lent you, you catch Jungkook staring.

“What are you staring so intently at, you freak.” You snort and Jungkook chuckles while shaking his head.

“Nah, just remembered the old times. ” He smiles and suddenly you forget how to breathe. “You were so… pretty.”

Your heart literally skips a beat at how unreal everything is, but then are reminded of something that immediately makes you feel like an idiot for thinking he might mean it. “Didn’t you think like that because we just had a shower sex that time?”

Jungkook immediately blushes at your upfront mention. He most definitely did not expect that. “No, I wasn’t thinking—damn, Y/N, how can you say that!”

Rolling your eyes, your hand moves to slide the bathroom door. “Whatever, I’m going to shower now. Don’t even think about moving even a muscle from there.”

Jungkook sighs at your non-stop cautiousness, but is still unable to get that one last kick in. “You sure you can do it alone? I can help you shower, you know. ” He teases mischievously which you instantly answer by flipping him off. But you know the smile is too wide—you are enjoying this light banter too much now.

After having a very delightful bath, you walk out while drying your hair with a towel. Staying true to his words, Jungkook is seated still on the sofa, eyes not even blinking—too focused on the work in front of him. You move to his side, carefully resting your hands on his shoulder that he instinctively jumps on his seat. “Sorry to interrupt, but you should take a shower first. It must be suffocating still wearing that.”

Jungkook seems flustered, and immediately rises. “Yes, okay. I’ll be a second, then we can start. You should...rest a bit.”

Sitting on the couch he sat on, you stare at nothing in particular when your ringtone is heard. You mindlessly open your phone and find it’s Hoseok on the other side, pinging you endlessly—of course about you spending the night with Jungkook. You hiss just thinking about Namjoon literally can't keep his mouth shut, so instead, you leave him a fuck off emotion and move to open another chatting app, strangely miss chatting with your anonymous friend. Maybe you should update him about another conflict you are having right now, having been forced to be around the one you had a huge crush a few years back.

blueberry_25 : hiiiiiiiiiiii are you there? [20:15]

Right after sending the message, suddenly a ringtone is heard—it must be Jungkook’s phone. Shrugging the fact, you send another message, and Jungkook’s phone is ringing again. What is this coincidence? Why is his phone ringing at the same time you send yours?! The possibility of Jungkook being paired as your anonymous friends literally makes you dizzy beyond words, and you quickly move to grab his phone from his office bag, trying to detect if your notification is there. Fuck, fuck! If he really is your anonymous friend, you’d literally run away and sink yourself in the nearest waters. You’d rather set yourself on fire than having to spend another second around him.

Picking up his phone with your heart beating unhealthily fast, but all you see in his notification is Hoseok’s messages. You scroll slowly on his notifications, but fortunately nothing about your message is seen. You sigh deeply in reassurance. God, that was close.

Realizing how improper it is to be preying on his privacy, you clear your throat and put the phone back on the desk. Fuck, you are really shameless. But in your defense, it’s really a matter of life or death, because you have no idea whether you’d rather spend another second breathing when knowing you’ve been talking to Jungkook about Jungkook all these times. But seeing that there’s no notification, you feel slightly assured. Slightly.

Yet to think about it, he is using the basketball keychain you gave him a few years back and it makes you feel incredibly unsettled. Why is he wearing this? He changed his phone and really went through the hard work to still keep something he hated the first time receiving? You even thought he threw the keychain away after receiving it.

“Hey, what are you looking at?”

At the sudden low minister you look up in surprise, seeing Jungkook walking out of the shower, still with wet hair, wearing a white shirt and a pair of shorts that looks really comfortable, but not really for you as a silent bystander. Fuck Jungkook and his incredible charm!

“Is it my phone?” Jungkook asks, eyebrows scrunched.

Suddenly realizing that you are cornered by his great smell, you are stuttering to even let out an answer. “I’m-i’m sorry! Your phone rang and I thought it was something important, and—”

“You shouldn’t check my phone, really.”

Remembering how Jungkook hated to have anyone messing with his privacy, you wince internally and prepare for his wrath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see anything, I swear.”

At your regretful gesture, Jungkook sighs and rests himself on the space beside you. “It’s okay. Just.. just don’t do it again. I don’t want you to be shocked to see what’s in there.”

Seeing an opportunity now that he has relaxed a bit, you push him by the shoulder with your own with a mischievous smile. “It’s okay, I’ve seen your porn collection. Nothing will really shock me at this point.”

Waiting for Jungkook to respond to your laughter, but instead you only find him gazes at you with indiciphered emotions. “Why? Is there anything wrong?”

“No, It’s.. it’s just weird. Actually the first time you acknowledge our past without wanting to rip my head off my body.”

At that, you find your gaze falling back to the basketball keychain on his phone. “You’re using that lame ass keychain you hated so much now?”

You remember that time you went to an old market with your friends the morning of your third date with Jungkook, seeing a cute basketball chain and you instantly remembered how much Jungkook always wanted to play basketball even if he was in a football team, so you bought that keychain for him. He begrudgingly received it with so much complaints, about how he didn’t like any accessories for his phone, or how he literally played football, or how it didn’t match his fashion concept, and you haven’t even seen him use it… until now.

“Yup. I have been using it since… you left actually.” Jungkook looks down to his phone, and you look at him with a contorted face.

“Why?”

Jungkook looks at you, staying silent for a good ten seconds while you bite your lips, wondering if you are ready to hear whatever he’ll say—cause any scenario playing in your head is just a trainwreck of mess after mess—until he answers with a heavy sigh of distress. “I’ll answer that later. Let’s just.. Work now.”

Silently thankful that he decides not to answer your pointless question, you agree and proceed with work. It is not exceptionally hard to focus on your work when the deadline is just around the corner, and you are thankful Jungkook is very helpful and kind with everything. But after a few hours spent working, from the corner of your eyes Jungkook is massaging his sore neck with contorted face. You know why—he severely strained his neck muscle during a practice a few years back, and will always feel pain whenever he is overworking himself, like he is right now.

“Hey, you should take a rest.” You tap his shoulders with worried gaze. “Your neck must be killing you right now. I can continue, there’s just a few of these left.”

Jungkook really wants to refuse your mindful offering, but the pain is disagreeing with him. So albeit half-heartedly, he moves to rest on the bed. “Laying on the bed would only worsen the pain, though..” You whisper to yourself, somehow still vividly remember everything.

“You want me to massage you?”

Jungkook looks at you in surprise. “Are you serious?”

You are fumbling with the hem of Jungkook’s shirt you wear and hesitantly nod. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself… Because… you’re my ride tomorrow to Seoul! We really need to get back right after, so—”

Jungkook nods with a thin smile, and you decide to shut up and just move closer to his side with a bottle of baby oil from your bag. After smearing a few drops on his neck, you proceed to move your fingers to give slight pressure around his neck—just the way you remember it.

“Now I know why you still smell like that. You’re still using that baby oil.” He hums in delight and you inevitably smile. The fact that he still remembers sends warmth to your chest.

After spending a good ten minutes massaging his upper neck, you notice that the neck area of his t-shirt is wet with the oil. “Ah, your shirt..”

“It’s okay. Are you done?”

You bit your lip. Not really, you know by the look of it the pain is still far from being off, but you don’t know what you should do. The convenient way is to have Jungkook out of his shirt, but then you’d literally be out of your mind. You most certainly do not have the capacity to do with a shirtless Jungkook, right on such a closed space, especially on a bed. Even thinking about it makes you feel rightfully ridiculous.

“You’re still in pain, though…”

“Ah, this is okay.” Jungkook gives you a comforting smile, trying to move his head, “I’m now as good as—Ow!”

Now you don’t even know how can that man survive another day being this careless. He is moving his head excessively only to prove his lies and end up with more pain. Really Jungkook-like. Sighing, you pull on his shirt. “Take off your shirt, you moron. I’ll massage you.”

At your bold statement, Jungkook literally shivers on your grasp. “No, It’s all well. You don’t need to—”

Greatly unimpressed, you warn him not to reason with your request and just by your stare, he begrudgingly complies. “But don’t laugh. I haven’t been working out recently, super swamped at work so if you just laugh, even a little, I’ll leave you here to take the bus alone to Seoul tomorrow.”

Giggling at his pouts, Jungkook moves to open his shirt and instantly lay on his stomach on the bed. “Don’t see it!”

“Why! Are you shy at me now? You literally used every chance to be shirtless back then.” You chuckle and mischievously poke him around the waist with your forefinger. “Why are you shy? You six pack no more?”

Jungkook buries his head on the pillow, while you still proceed to poke him repetitiously with your fingers. “Stop it!” He groans yet you disregard it without any further thoughts.

“You’re nooo fun! Don’t be shy Kookie, even if you’re bloated, I—Ah!”

Jungkook growls at your constant bother, and spends no other second to pull you around to secure you around his grasp, bare chest just a breath away from yours.

“Are you seriously going to do this now? Don’t you know how crazy I was just to be around you for the night?”

At his deep stare prodding at the depth of your minds, you feel terribly heated. “What-what are you saying..”

“Are you seriously not seeing this, Y/N?” He slowly breathes. “It’s hard. To be around you again, and trying to hold myself from thinking about what could have happened with us.” Is he seriously addressing what happened with your relationship before?

“What?”

“You asked why I still use that keychain you gave? You really wonder why?” He asks in unpredicted determination that it terrifies you. “It’s because what we had meant that much. You, me, us—we were so happy. Or at least, I was.”

Like it’s not surprising enough, he is apparently not done. “Being with you, I’d never trade that for anything. I was doubtful it even happened—you left so quickly and I need a reminder that it did happen. We happened.”

Realizing that he indeed is going to unveil anything that happened in your past, you weakly push him away, trying to create a safe distance in between. But of course it’s no match with his unbelievable strength. “Jungkook...”

“I know I was a jerk, Y/N. I was childish, foolish, I was an idiot and I did not think about your feelings. I did not consider that you must’ve had a reason to leave the country, we were fighting like crazy, but—I would’ve understood if I had known the reason, you know? And I start to wonder about the what ifs, will everything be different with you and me?”

You look up to him gloomily, the pain in your chest is unbearable now that he is opening up the past. You remember everything like it was yesterday—how infatuated you were with each other, how beautiful was the time of being in such love with him, how heartbroken you were to find out you had to follow your mother after the divorce and go back to Seoul, and how instead of clearly stating why, you and Jungkook had a huge fight that literally lasts for years and until now.

The sadness momentarily engulfs you, that you instinctively respond to the sentence you’ve been repeating to yourself these whole time. “Well then, maybe we are just not meant to be.”

Jungkook glares at you, not liking a bit that you had to pull that card with him. “Don’t you fucking say that. What we had meant that much to me, and I loved you so much, Y/N. Why can’t we just—” You know it was a past tense, he said he loved you. But why does that hurt? Unexpectedly a thought crosses your mind, and you speak faster than you think.

“Jungkook, what happened with that girl?”

His eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “What girl?”

You look down, unable to see him right in his beautiful, doe eyes.“That finance girl—the one coming home with you when clearly taxi exists—what happened that night?”

Jungkook clears his throat, finally getting what you’re saying. “Ah, her. No, I had Jimin take her home that night.”

“Why?”

Jungkook bite his lips, it’s obvious that he is conflicted to answer. Ten seconds pass until he finally opens his voice to answer. “Because she was talking shit about you, and I don’t like it.”

“You what? Seriously?!” Are you hearing correctly? Jungkook seriously abandoned all his mighty ways with girls just because someone is talking shit about you? “It’s inevitable, and you know I don’t give a shit what she thinks about me. You don’t have to do that—I can’t believe this.”

“Y/N, don’t overthink it. Even if we are off to a rocky start and you might hate me, you’re still my friend. I won’t let anyone talk shit about my friends, especially you.”

The way he speaks, it is full of sincerity and succeeds in melting your whole being. The way he cares about you, you hate to admit that you still like it too much. You can’t believe that you are still this reactive for anything regarding him.

Another seconds of comfortable silence passes and somehow, you get comfortable just laying there with him. Even your heartbeat is too fast for your likings, yet the familiarity is what keeps you on spot. You start reminiscing those beautiful times when it’s just you and him, the feelings you get whenever he looks at you like this—it feels amazing.

“What happens to your mother? Is she okay now?” Jungkook carefully asks, like he is testing the water. His palms are soft on your back, featherly soothing it with his whole deliberation.

You hum with a faint nod. “Yup, she is recovering well. My aunt and grandma are also very helpful with the therapy, so...yes. How did you know, by the way?”

“Well, after you left I… I just got around with your friend. She actually explains your condition and.. then I try to dig around for you as well. I found your social media and really wanted to message you, but.. Yeah, I never got to.”

What Jungkook does not explain is how much time he spends on his phone, typing and retyping his words to send you, but never got the courage to. After knowing what happened to you and your family—especially about your mother’s illness, he felt overwhelmingly guilty beyond words. He took it on you, taking all his disappointment for the false information he made for himself, without thinking what you might have felt. He deserved it, he deserves everything that happened to him. Being miserable, chased with the guilt feeling rooting on his back, it might be just the right price he must pay for letting you down, disappointing you the way he did.

“I am sorry, Y/N. If I can take back what I said, I would. In a heartbeat.” He whispers and you understand how much he means it. At that time, it’s even difficult to think he is still the same Jungkook who hurted you back then. He changes so much, and hopefully for the better.

“What about you? Everything is good back in the states?” You ask, resting your palm on his bare arm and you can sense how Jungkook is tense, but instantly relaxes after your hand is safely settled. “Your family is still there?”

“Yup. Family is there, only me here.”

You hum, fidgeting your fingers resting on his arm. You really want to ask one question that has been running in your mind since four months ago.“If I ask why you moved to Seoul, would you answer honestly? Like.. I know what you said to your peer, about the great offer whatsoever, but… there must be something else, right? There’s literally no good reason why you should move to somewhere new and not even lots of people you know here..”

Jungkook gives you a thin smile. “I.. I just needed a fresh start. My life there, everything that’s been going on with my family, my friends were too… exhausting. I just—I wanted to see how far I could go on my own.”

“Something happened with your family?” You curiously asks, suddenly curious about his last statement. You know how ruthless his father was with his ambitions for his only son, directly lining him up for the best school in the states and already planning all his future for him, including entering one of the most sought up corporate as well.

“Yup. You know, I don’t hate his plans. What I dislike is the way he single-handedly does everything for me. It was so stressful.” Jungkook whispers, more to himself. “He wants me to go Investment Banking, but I don’t want that. He promises that he can make me in Forbes list, or whatever it was he said, but I don’t want that too.”

“So I planned on moving out of the city, but I don’t know where or how. Then the idea to go back to Seoul arised. Something happened—the decision time was quite short. What turns out to be a joke turns into a serious option. Having dual citizenship really eases my access back to Korea, and my grandparents and cousins are also here so.. Yeah. That’s about it.”

You nod in understanding, cause everything he said seems plausible. But one thing still doesn’t settle right. “But.. why my company? You know I’ve been working here for a while now, right? It’s like… too much of a coincidence it scares me.”

“If I say it’s all the grand plan of the universe, will you believe me?” He lightly jokes, eyes turning into crescent moons. You roll your eyes, but nevertheless giggle.

“I think that’s enough for now. You must be sleepy, Y/N. Go to sleep, in a few hours we still need to head back to the plant and directly go back to Seoul. Okay?”

You are expecting Jungkook to move away and leave you to sleep on the bed, but he is still there, holding you close, and you are not complaining at all. You are conscious that he is waiting for you to shoo him away, but you’d not even dare to do it. Cause being with him again, his large palm caressing your back, his breath tickling your face, everything seems like a very vague, far dream.

Another twenty minutes and you are already far too deep in slumber, Jungkook smiles at your sleeping face. You seem so at peace, and he is loving every second just laying here with you.

But the rest of work ain’t gonna fix itself, so he is still groaning, and wakes up and moves back to the sofa. Getting a canned coffee from his duffle bag, Jungkook quickly gulps an adequate amount until he is sure he won’t be sleeping for a while now. Trying to relax his strained neck, his finger moves back to the laptop in front of him.

“Let’s finish this once and for all, shall we?”

Due to staying up until three in the morning, Jungkook wakes up around nine to a cup of coffee in the kettle, along with a thank you note for finishing the rest of the work and promises you’d do anything he asks in return. You also permit yourself for going to the plant first. At that, a slight disappointment arises inside his chest and he doesn’t even know why. Jungkook heaves a deep breath, waking up and directly going straight to the shower.

Not even thirty minutes later, Jungkook is already parked on the plant, walking inside to the office side where he expects you will be. But he is met with disappointment, because you’re not there—not even your belongings are in sight.

At once, he feels terribly anxious. What happened to you? Where could you be? He tries dialing your number, but is met with no answer. When one of the supply chain teams he was talking to yesterday is walking beside him, he stops her right away. “Hey… Did you see Y/N? Was she here?”

“Y-yes. She is currently meeting with the team leader.” She mutters nervously, especially with Jungkook’s hardened stare prodding at her.

“Team leader? Where?”

“They’re meeting downstairs, probably in the cafe? I don’t really know..”

Finally self-conscious about how freaky he has been, Jungkook quickly mutters his thank you and descends to the elevator. Team leader? He doesn’t know why he feels terribly on the edge with the fact she is meeting the team leader. Probably due to something he heard yesterday…

“Y/N, you’re disappointed, right? The team leader is in the plant right now since there's a production problem. Tell me, you actually wanted to see him, right?”

That was that a fellow supply chain team was whispering to you during the discussion yesterday, which you answered with a lousy no. It did not settle right with him and now he is proven right. Who is this team leader, actually?

While in the elevator, he swiftly reaches for his work phone, trying to find a certain supply chain team leader. He squints his name, finding a name that certainly is not too strange if he thinks about it...

Kim Taehyung.. When did he hear this name before?

“I told you I can pick you up from the hotel and then we can get a proper breakfast. Why are we even meeting at this lousy, overpriced office cafe.” Taehyung fizzles with a deep pout while cutting the maple syrup pancake he ordered. You thinly smile, stirring the cup of chamomile tea on your grasp. It’s certainly strange to be in the exact situation with him as it was during your college days.

“It’s okay, I can’t stay long anyway. I just got a few things clarified from your team and I’ll be on my way back to the headquarters.”

“Really? That fast?” The pout on his lips deepens. “If I know you are going to leave so soon, we should’ve done something last night. I don’t even understand why you checked in a hotel instead of staying with me. It’s way cheaper and easier, you know?”

“Taehyung, you know I can’t do that…” You warn him, feeling cautious of the overly familiar sense between the two of you. It is dangerous, and you don’t want to ruin everything with you and him. Again. You will not foolishly repeat history.

Noticing how tense the air has become after your last sentence, he suddenly leans his palm over yours, eyes filled with regret. “Y/N, please don’t be like this. We are friends before anything else. What happened, it was in the past. I don’t want to lose you like this.”

The irony of hearing that too many times now literally put a painful grin in your lips. Why the fuck men keeps on saying that to you these days? Fucking annoying.

“I get it. We are friends. So please keep the line, Taehyung. I don’t want to lose you as a friend like this too.”

Realizing that not even a hint of mirth on your face, he realizes that he indeed has crossed the line. Taehyung immediately pulls his hand away, clasping it on his lap. “I am sorry.”

“It’s okay. But can we talk about work, now?” You sigh in distress. You know by the look of it, Taehyung has millions of words he wants to say, but you don’t want to hear it. You just had enough with all the drama.

Taehyung was your friend. Your first friend in Seoul. Your first friend in university. Your best friend. At that time, he helped you a lot with adapting to the new environment. He helped you with every part of your life, your study, your family, everything. He was the son your mother never had—you were that close to him. At the beginning, regardless of what people said that the both of you would end up being in love with each other, it was easy to disregard it with a simple laugh. Because Taehyung had a girlfriend back in his hometown. Because you were busy with working part-time to make a living, and love was your last priority.

4 years being in a platonic relationship was easy when it’s with him. You graduated together, sealed with a picture of Taehyung kissing your cheek in front of your alma mater hanging on your living room’s wall, you never knew something indeed has changed with you and him. Not until one night he confesses he wants to try something more serious with you, for you to seriously consider him as a boyfriend. And as easy as it was, you agreed. Because in all sincereness, you knew you’d do anything for him, and even if you wanted to be with someone, it just had to be him.

Having the same dream, both of you applied for the same company, and were accepted in the same team. You were working alongside him, and seriously could not be happier. Day by day, you start to gain feelings for him, and it was as easy as expected—because he was a very great guy, everything you wished him to be. Until one day, an email arrives in your personal inbox, filled with cursive words accusing you were the one Taehyung was cheating with. From his ex-girlfriend.

At that time, you directly confronted Taehyung for an explanation. And you found out that before graduation, he measly broke up with the girl through a freaking message and blocked every contact with her right after. And when you thought everything couldn't go worse, more digging led you to find out that he broke up only after you agreed to try something serious with him.

You were heartbroken. Even if you knew that in his defense, he thought that nothing was going to work with his ex-girlfriend for way before they broke up, but it did not justify anything that he did for her, or for you. You expected more of him, and were excessively disappointed. And even when you tried to forget it and move on like what it was before, you can’t shake the feeling of betrayal. That’s why you decided to call it off.

Taehyung was disappointed in your easy choice of way out, it was as clear that both of you are not on the same page with everything. Knowing that both of you couldn’t just disregard everything and keep on being professional at work, Taehyung directly applied after an opening for a plant team was announced—and in no time he left. Just like that.

“Hey, are you okay? Y/N, don’t be like this. I won’t talk about it again—let’s just talk about work. Okay?” Taehyung asks in worry at your deep and long silence. You dubiously nod, realizing that you cannot keep on being like this. That’s why you reach out for your laptop, intending to start on questions for your report.

“So, is your mother okay now?” Taehyung asks, and you know he is sincerely curious instead of making small talks. You kind of understand though, since your mother saw him nearly everyday as he was practically glued to your side.

“She is doing much better now. And she asked about you too, you know.”

Taehyung immediately smiles at that. “Yeah, of course I know. I was literally the best child she could ever have, since her daughter was busier than the president himself.”

You roll your eyes but still chuckle at the remembrance. “Shut up. I was working! And you know, you are the weird one. You kept on hanging out in my house, even without me. My aunt and grandma were literally in love with you.”

“Yeah, they were so kind and lovely. How could I not miss them.” Taehyung smiles more to himself. You can detect how sincere he is, and the guilt is slightly eating you up. If you weren’t such a selfish person, maybe everything would be different. Maybe you and him would be different.

“Then come again to my house. I’m still in my apartment, but I come back to my house once or twice each month. You know my family house is closer to the plant than the headquarters. You should come with me.”

You know that Taehyung seems to be at shock at your unexpected invites—as you too were shocked—but he instantly forms his signature boxy smile and nods in agreement before you could change your mind. “I would love to.”

Suddenly, a ruckus was heard directed from the door. You instinctively turn to the source of the sound, and unexpectedly find Jungkook marching to your side. You immediately stand from your seat, somehow anxious over the fact that you left him in the hotel with only a lousy note to excuse yourself. And probably, the fact that Taehyung is here too.

“Jungkook? Why are you here?”

Jungkook looks at you, then at Taehyung, then at you again, implicitly showing how bewildered he is. “Ah, it’s nothing. I just.. I just want to check where you are. You left so quick from the hotel, so—”

Taehyung immediately stands up from his seat, staring at you while squinting his eyes. “Hotel? He is staying with you, Y/N?! That’s dangerous, why are you—don’t tell me.. You’re not staying in the same room, right?”

Jungkook’s eyebrows scrunched, disliking the fact that Taehyung looks really bothered at the fact that you are staying with him. “So what if we are? Do you have a problem with that?”

You bite your lower lips in distress at both of the guys who look like they are ready to have the showdown of their lives. Fuck, why does this have to happen now?!

If you had any thoughts that Taehyung and Jungkook will be fighting because of you, you were surely an idiot—because right now it’s like you literally don't even exist. Both of those idiots are too busy playing phone games as teams while laughing like maniacs, while you are busy trying to finish all your work before having to rush to Seoul in an hour. Yes, you don’t really have anything left for them to work on, but… it feels difficult when you don’t even understand what they are doing with their damn phones.

“Taehyung, what the hell… you can’t fucking shoot! He was literally in front of you!” Jungkook groans at his phone, then Taehyung kicks him on the shin until the younger guy hiss in pain. You roll your eyes, fucking child they were.

“Jungkook, let’s go. We need to head back to Seoul.”

“Why?! There’s another hour! There’s no need to rush, you know.” Jungkook pleads, yet not even looking at you. Since Taehyung steals a glance at you, he immediately notices you are not in a mood for a joke. At all.

“Five minutes. This will be finished, okay? You can get ready, Y/N.” Taehyung replies calmly and even with deep resentment, you still comply and pack up your belongings.

Just another thirty seconds and Taehyung is cursing before throwing his phone back at the table. “Fuck, I’m dead.”

“That’s because you suck.” Jungkook mocks playfully, and Taehyung rolls his eyes at the childish remarks. Taehyung turns to you scrolling on your phone, looking as unbothered as ever—even if he knows how irritated you are right now. That’s probably on how much he understands you.

“Hey, Y/N. When can we meet your mom?”

Jungkook suddenly chokes on air at that unforeseen statement. What the fuck did he just hear? Why is Taehyung meeting your mother?

Only sending Jungkook weirded out stares, you turn to Taehyung. “I’m planning on going back tomorrow, as I haven’t gone back for weeks. You want to come with me?”

“Sure, that’d be great.” Taehyung nods, literally insensitive to Jungkook’s hazy state as more information comes in.

“Okay, should we meet directly at my mother’s?”

“No, I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning. I’m going back to Seoul tonight for a drink with Jimin, Yoongi and Hobi.”

“Ah, drunkard night. Must be fun.” You sarcastically joke and Taehyung is unable to deny as he giggles. Meanwhile on the other side Jungkook’s sight is literally shaking, probably to the current state he is in. Fucking pathetic is what he is.

“So, did you receive my flowers this morning?”

Your mouth and eyes are forming a full circle, remembering the gifts resting on your desk nearly every morning from last week. “That was you?!”

“Yes.” He giggles with reddening cheeks which literally sends flutters inside your chest. Not even once you thought Taehyung would be the one behind those thoughtful gifts. “I just want to give it to you. I hope it’s not a bother.”

“It’s not, but you shouldn’t have…” You suddenly feel guilty for not realizing it any sooner. Of course it’s him, who would be? But by the fact how bad your vague relationship ended nearly a year ago, it’s hard to imagine him being the one sending those.

“I want to! Don’t be like that, you know I’d do anything for you.”

Abruptly the sound of chair feet against the floor is heard as Jungkook stands up. He looks at you with an undeciphered smile, yet you literally can’t even look him straight in the eyes. God, you don’t want everything to be like this in the first place. “Let’s go, Y/N. I’m done.”

“Good. You should go, the traffic can be bad.” Taehyung nods in understanding, insensitive to Jungkook’s killing aura that you literally are on the edge of. He quickly walks out of the room without even a goodbye, and you nervously look back at Taehyung again.

“Taehyung, I’ll go now.”

In a blink, you find Taehyung is now hugging you closely inside his arms. It doesn’t last long though—and you literally don’t know what to feel about that. Your feelings are too complicated.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Be safe.”

You hum and directly walk out, not even seeing Jungkook right on the door. Slightly panicked, You walk outside to the elevator and he is there, hands buried in his pocket, his jaw clenched and eyes that literally screams fire. Everything literally makes you dizzy.

God, you don’t really know how you’d make it a few hours being with him...

And fuck were you right, because after thirty minutes settling inside his car on the way to Seoul, there’s no sound beside the radio between the two of you. The air was so tense like you can slice it and choke it down your throat, and probably it would be better rather than having to face Jungkook’s expected silence at you.

“Jungkook, it’s been half an hour. Are you going to ignore me like this?”

Jungkook sighs, but still not sparing you even a glance. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to talk to me.”

“Then talk. No one is stopping you.” He irks.

“But I want to talk to you without that scary face you are having right now.”

“Y/N, I don’t want to be like this. Please let me be angry in peace.” He finally looks at you with a hint of sadness on his eyes. “I don’t want to say anything I’d regret.”

Another five minutes of silence until you decide to speak out your mind. “Do you want to know what happened with me and Taehyung?” You carefully ask, he looks at you and lets out a sarcastic laugh.

“Why do you think I want to know that?”

At the bluntness, you feel completely ashamed of yourself for thinking and assuming way beyond you should. You duck your head in shame. “Sorry.”

Jungkook then realizes he has been too far with his angry game, and instantly reaches out to you in regret. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean that.”

But it’s too late because you are already crying and you don’t even know why. You’re usually not this much of a crybaby. “Fuck, you are really that self centered, you know? How can you say that? Is it too wrong for me to assume that whatever the fuck you are angry about is because of me and Taehyung?”

Jungkook locks his hand with you, and even if you are struggling to let your hands go, you are still too weak compared to him. “I’m sorry. I was angry at myself, Y/N. I was angry because I know you don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve my nonsensical wrath. I was too selfish, I’m sorry.”

“You are.”

“I am.”

“You fucking are.”

“I am. So please accept my apology, hmm?”

Another thirty minutes of sulking, while Jungkook doesn't even say another word and only moves to massage through your hands. You know how apologetic he was, and he probably doesn’t mean it as well. And since you know that your wrath is already dissipating, you proceed with your story, not even caring whether Jungkook wants to listen or not.

So you go through everything. Every single detail about what happened with you and Taehyung. And it would be a lie to say that it doesn’t affect Jungkook even a little bit, because seeing your gleaming eyes and your voice telling every word about your relationship with him, Jungkook knows how important he is to you, and how much of the past you have together with him written on the pages of your lives. The relationship you have with him, lasts a whole four years and even more. How can he even consider to compete with that?

And one question does bother his mind. Do you still love him?

But no. He is not taking that risk. He doesn’t want to break down now. So he lets out a statement that somehow, even with the huge consideration, still succeeds in killing all will inside his body.

“He was really special, right?” Jungkook asks as a past tense.

You look down to your lap.

“Yes, he really is.”

You are already settling inside your blanket, ready to drift off to sleep yet your mind is wide awake. Everything is so overwhelming lately, you don’t even know what to do with yourself. Everything about Taehyung and Jungkook is more than confusing, and you really don’t like yourself right now.

“Argh!” Just when you are kicking the blanket off your legs, suddenly a loud knock is head on your front door. Who could it be? Is it Namjoon? But you are a bit uncertain it is him, since Namjoon does not usually come home this early on a Friday night. Damn it, you really need another activity other than waiting for him to come home like a sad sexless innkeeper.

Another boom on your door and you rush to open it. “Wait!”

But instead of the face of drunk Namjoon on your door, you find Jungkook’s instead. And it could be the last person you expect to be standing in front of your door right now, with a bottle of wine and a pack of cheese.

“Jungkook, what are you doing here?”

He shyly scratches his nape. “Ah, actually I was drinking with my cousin and his girlfriend so I steered clear to give them space and went to your apartment instead. Sorry to disturb you. Were you going to sleep?”

“Was going to, but I can’t sleep.” You answer truthfully, looking back at him. Jungkook is only wearing a black t-shirt with loose pants, his hair is messily tousled yet irritatingly still looks very breathtaking to you, his lips are eye-catchingly shimmering—a habit he adopted from you to deal with dry lips. You immediately feel self-conscious about what you were, an old night dress that doesn’t really do anything except making you feel comfy to sleep.

“Can I come in?” He vigilantly asks after a few minutes of odd silence. You instinctively scoot out of his way and let him walk inside your fortress.

“Your apartment is nice.” He compliments, resting the wine and cheese on the table to walk around the apartment, through the photos and embellishment. “Very cozy. And everything here screams you.”

“Thanks. High chance that’s the reason why Namjoon is very, very vigilant about bringing women back to this apartment, I think.” You joke and giggle, even though your head is filled with anxiety of the fact that Jungkook is visiting your apartment at ten pm. The last time he visited you around this time you couldn’t walk the next morning, so… yeah, you feel entitled to be nervous.

“Let me get the glasses and bottle opener.” You stutter, abruptly walking to your compartment. You let out a few deep breaths, trying to assemble your head straight once again. Fuck, why can’t you just speak like a normal person? It’s just Jungkook for god sake, and he’ll only be here for a drink—probably to celebrate the result of your presentation this evening to the boards. And then he’ll be gone, and you’ll go to sleep. Yet you somehow doubt it.

Walking back, you find Jungkook is settled on your couch, his eyes are looking at the bottle of wine on the table, yet you know those stares are too far and empty. It’s proven with how he is startled when you soundly occupy the seat beside him.

“You okay?”

He glances at you and his lips turn into a thin curve. “I am. Sorry, I was zooming out.”

“It’s fine, but sure you're okay?”

The smile widens until it shows his extraordinary bunny teeth, his palm hovering around your arm. “I am good, but can be better after a glass of this wine. Don’t worry about me now.”

In a short while, a glass of wine is already served on your grasp, while Jungkook is busy picking songs to play on your bluetooth speaker. Right when a smooth violin sound is heard, you reluctantly open up a conversation.

“Thank you.” You lower down your gaze to your fidgeting fingers. “For everything. You literally saved my ass from even getting denounced from my position. I still can’t believe everything could be so messed up.”

“I know it must have been difficult—with Junsu now investigated for supplier fraud.” He whispers slowly. You knew that all the untally reports and data are from Junsu, and now he is being investigated for fraud. It could have been worse, since in the beginning it was you whom the board suspected—since you are the one creating the report—but as what you and Jungkook has proved after going back to plant and going through all the documentation, the lead is now on Junsu.

“Hey. You don’t need to worry. If he’s not doing it, it would be proven.” Jungkook rests his palm over yours, squeezing it a little after seeing the contorts on your face. He is able to easily read how perturbed you are right now with the fact that your teammate is indeed in trouble.

“Yes, you’re right.” You nod after taking a few deep breaths, sipping the tasteful liquid down your throat to subside your anxiety. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

But even still, Jungkook knows it is not effectively working. You are still in possession of the habit he found whenever something deeply bothers your mind. He identified it during your presentation this evening, or the night you ran away after your parents quarreled, even the day both of you were pugnaciously fighting and ended with separation a few years ago.

“Hey.” Jungkook envelopes your quivering fingers and pulls you closer to him, hand buried in your hair. “Please don’t worry. I don’t—I feel terrible when you’re sad.”

And then it was silence. All you can feel is Jungkook’s warmth all over your body, his arm around your shoulder, your head leaning on his shoulder, while your mind is in haze, wandering far, far away. Then you broke off the silence with something that has indeed been bothering you a lot.

“I don’t know since when, but I’m getting weaker every time.”

Jungkook hum as a notion for you to continue. “They say.. They say we should be stronger as we’re getting old. But it’s not for me.” You whisper weakly, holding your fingers together to stop it from quivering. “I hate it. I hate everyday I have to wake up, walking purposelessly. I hate feeling insecure. I hate not knowing where I should go in the long run. I am living, only for the day to pass by. And it’s killing me, that whenever something comes up in my way, I feel.. I feel weak. I’d dry my tears, then spend all the time doubting why I should go through all this pain, but I don’t know any other way.”

You feel every word comes out, Jungkook’s hold around you is tighter. And you’d be crazy not to lean back your every worry to him. “Hey, I understand what you feel. And I think it is a phase in life when we need to rethink everything and start chasing things that make us happy, and let go of the things that are holding us back. Life is about the journey, not a mere destination. No need to rush in anything, hmm?”

You reluctantly nod, agreeing to what he said. What’s inside your head now is only to make lots of money that can sustain your mother’s treatment and family’s lives, and that’s about it. And you love them to death, but you know you don’t want to do this in the long run. Even the sense of accomplishment doesn’t exactly make you happy anymore, and it’s mentally tiring as fuck to be doing something you know that is extracting you from everything you used to love about life. You’re practically a zombie now, with no sense of directions.

“Have you ever felt this way before? Like.. Helpless. And no matter how you think that you should do something about it, you can’t because you’re fucking scared?”

At that, Jungkook smiles and pecks the top of your head. His heart clenched at what you just said, cause that's exactly what he felt before he did something about it. “Yes. I felt that when I was in the States. I was helpless, visionless, and… day goes by only with me taking it for granted, letting myself think that I will never change and I should just suck it in. What they say, I have a great, wealthy family and all—I should be thankful. And that’s also what my father said to me.”

“At one point, I knew I felt humiliated. All I had was given to me, I just had to the bare minimum, and boom—I got it. I knew if I just went with it yet again, I’d go crazy. My father will put me at a gunpoint for what I gained, but I was scared since I was too comfortable.”

You look up to him, feeling the urge to give him comfort somehow. You do realize how contorted Jungkook’s face is now, he is literally so upset that it makes you feel horrible. “I had a fight with my father, as he forced me to move from the small startup I built with my friends to join his partner’s company in Investment Banking. When I rejected, he took a different approach and convinced my friend to cut me off the team. I confronted my father, and it was literally the greatest fight I had with him. Then the plan I purposelessly created became true. I fled to Korea.”

“So..” You whisper, looking down and clear your throat. “Are you still in contact with them?”

“My mother, yes. My father, no.”

“You must be missing them.” You whisper low while caressing his side. “But.. is it worth it? Are you happy now?”

He grins. “It’s worth it, of course—but not yet. But I’m getting there, I think.”

“The more I think about it, being happy is non-negotiable.” You whisper, more to yourself. Before it was just a far dream, but when Jungkook is here beside you to listen, it’s already a true-hearted promise. “And when I get that chance, I will surely prioritize it. At all cost.”

Another twenty minutes of silence just enjoying each other’s warmth, Jungkook’s whine is heard. “Can’t you hug me?”

You mindlessly glance at Jungkook who is now intensely staring you back. But seeing your noticeable confusion, he rolls his eyes and puts your arm around his waist. The blush is inevitable, you are literally holding him with no distance whatsoever. If you just straighten your head, your lips will be locking into his and you’ll lose your breath that easily. Your heart is too fast for your liking, but truth to be told, you wouldn’t trade this moment with him for anything else.

“Did you remember, we literally did this.” Jungkook chuckles, stroking your hair in somehow a very affectionate way. “That time, during the party and you force me to take you in after your parent’s fight. We were back to my room, and then we just hugged it out and you told me everything that happened.”

You nod with a distant smile, remembering how you literally came crying when Jungkook was in the middle of a beer pong with his friends, but he didn’t even wait another minute in complying to your request, seeing how hysterical you were. “Yes. I remembered how after we watched Bruce Almighty. It’s freaking nuts.”

“Let’s watch it again.” He giggles after refilling the glass for wine. “For old time sakes.”

The next five minutes you are scrolling down your netflix, Jungkook is contemplating whether he should ask the question that has been bothering his mind. The alcohol on his spine did help though—it is easier to just go with what he wants to say regardless of the rationality his mind would stop him.

“So tomorrow, you’d be with Taehyung? To your mother’s house?”

Indifferently nodding, you click on the movie. “My mother has been asking a lot about him, and I just reasoned that he moved away and was busy. I don’t want to let her know we’re not… close anymore.”

“Taehyung is actually that important, huh?” Jungkook asks, staring down to his drinks. The fact predictably settles strangely inside his chest, and it is fucking suffocating that he knows he has nothing and no one to blame but himself for feeling this way. “Understandable, though. Four years—I wouldn’t say I am shocked.”

“It is a long time indeed.”

“I hope I have someone like that too.” He stopped for a while, eyes faraway. “So at least I can tell you that I stopped thinking about you after you left.”

That statement literally freezes all your movement—to the point that you think it’s all just your drunk hallucination. “What are you talking about?”

“I never stopped… thinking about you.” He dubiously murmurs, eyes trailed down his lap. “After I broke up, I’m still thinking about us, what could have been, and… regret?”

“Regret?”

“I know this might sound creepy, but.. After you left, I tried finding your whereabouts and what you’re up to. And after knowing what you’ve been through, I felt tremendous regret for being such a jerk to us.”

Suddenly, just when you’re about to turn around as you’re desperate to see through his eyes, he clutches on you, latching on your back. “I lied when I said I loved you, because I am still in love with you, Y/N. I know it’s silly—we were only a month together, not even official—but I just can’t shake the feeling away. Especially after seeing you again, talking to you again now..”

“And if you asked my last night why I worked in your company—it’s because after arriving, I was in a phase where I don’t know what I should do. At least if I work with you, I can see you again, and apologize, but at first we were not in the best term. But even then, I was happy to see you and talk to you again.”

Then, at once, you feel the back of your shirt is soaked wet. Your heart clenched with pain and sadness at how pained Jungkook must have been all these times. “Y/N, I am very sorry…”

“You told me you’re staying! You said you’ll stay with your father, with me here.” Jungkook cried when you told him you needed to move back to Seoul with your mother after the divorce. “You said your mother is horrible, Y/N. You are not doing this for yourself. You can’t leave.”

“Fuck, don’t act like you care about me now, Jungkook. You know, I was always wondering why you suddenly introduced yourself that night, but it’s because of Alex, right? Because I rejected him—and you wanted to check for yourself!”

Jungkook slammed the table in front of him that made you flinch. “Don’t you dare to change the topic. You’ll leave your father, your life here and me, because of your horrible mother that always made you cry, feel alone and horrible. Why are you so naive, Y/N?!”

You were already crying by then, the frustration built up in your chest. You knew the reason was already on the tip of your tongue—your mother is terribly sick and needed you the most—but you couldn’t let it out. Jungkook didn’t deserve to know. “Don’t act like you know me. One month fucking and you already think you can read me like a book? Grow up.”

“One month.. Fucking?” Jungkook weakly whispered, the tears were building up on the corner of his eyes. “Fine. I don’t fucking care about you. Fuck off to wherever, I don’t care.”

“Sure. You only cared about me because of a fucking bet anyway, right?!” You cried, the grief and constant fear of the end approaching, when Jungkook walked away.

It was the end.

The memory of your separation with Jungkook flashes inside your mind like it was just yesterday. You remember every word, every feeling, every tear spent that day. You couldn’t even count how many times you wished everything was different.

Jungkook is crying on your back, and you force to turn and see him right through his eyes. “Apology accepted, Jungkook. I was at fault too. I should’ve been clearer. I should’ve said it better. I am sorry too..”

You wipe his tears with your two palms and hug him, your chest against his, your arm around his waist. “Please don’t cry, hmm?”

Another seconds of light sniffles until he opens his voice. “You know, this is better than what I expected. With how many years has passed in guilt, I could’ve been puking with tears.” He lightly jokes and you giggle. Fuck, how is he so cute now?

“By the way, just in case you forgot—I just said I love you. It still stands.” Jungkook thinly smiles, his fingers fixing the strands of your hair falling in front of your eyes. Your heart is beating unhealthily fast now. “I don’t need you to answer now, of course. I just… I just want you to know.”

“I know.” You whisper softly, leaning into your will to tiptoe and press your lips against his. Jungkook instinctively closes his eyes, feeling the wondrous taste of cherry chapstick and wine from your lips. The feeling is addictive and wondrous that he seriously thinks he is hallucinating right now.

You are about to release the kiss, when his firm palm secures on your back, pressing your waist against his, his lips are chasing yours to engage in another breath-taking kiss. You welcome it at once, arms settling around his neck. “Tell me if you want to stop.” He murmurs into the kiss, but you’re way into cloud nine to stop. You’d be insane to let him go now.

His palm travels south to grab the flesh off your ass and pushes his hips closer to yours—if it’s even possible. You can make out the hard-on he has nurtured for a while now, and instantly suck your breath. “You can feel it, babe? It’s because of you—being such a minx tonight. Are you really going to keep on teasing me like this?”

You grin, feeling the adrenaline rush with the realization that you have Jungkook here, beside you, whispering you all these dirty words to your ear. You shift to press butterfly kisses to his neck all the way to his collarbones—encouraged by the bemoan he is letting out, intending to suck marks on his sun kissed skin until he gruffly pushes you away.

“Who gave you rights to mark me now, huh kitten?” He throatily purrs, swiftly scooping you into his arms, both your legs are crutched around his waist with his painful erection knocking on your clothed entrance. You spend no more second to entangle your lips with his again, his tongue gladly seeking warmth from yours—and god, he feels amazingly sweet, the taste of wine vivid on your taste bud. Fuck, he seriously can’t drive you crazier than this.

“Don’t want Namjoon to see my dry cum on your sofa, right babe?” Jungkook hoarsely wheezes, and those words literally screws all leftover sanity inside of you. Fuck, you missed this so much. Drowned in lust and desperate for friction, you find yourself continuously rubbing your core to his erection, until he paces you for himself. “Stop. I didn’t bring extra pants with me, babe—don’t wanna go home with pants wet with cum now.”

Jungkook hurriedly pushes your bedroom doors and throws you away on bed. “Y/N. Tell me to stop now, or I’ll never get a grip until I can finally have you.”

Instead of giving an answer, you inch closer until your fingers are in contact with his pants’ band. “You need help with that?” You brave yourself to whisper, gazing innocently right to his lust-darken eyes.

“Fuck, you’ll be the death of me.” He gratefully bemoans, as your finger moves to detached his pants and boxer to the ground—his erection immediately springs like never before. It is such a pretty, thick and long dick that your saliva literally pools. You instantly get on your knees, closing with eagerness to have a taste until he stops your advancement by pushing you to the bed.

“Not today, kitten. Maybe tomorrow—I need to have you now or I’ll go nuts.”

You pout, stubbornly moving to give a good caress on the length, satisfied with how Jungkook’s pupil immediately dilates at your ministry. “Are you sure, baby? I can do anything for you, though. My throat is ready for you to choke on.”

“Stop it. I want to be inside you now.” He hastily howls, so close to creaming your palm now that he needs to stop you. Jungkook’s mind is on cloud nine with your warm fingers around his girth, but he realizes he needs to have his dick pushed inside your cunt now, not even your hand or mouth can make it up. “Take off that fucking dress.” He orders.

“Yes, anything for you, sir.” You literally do not know what kind of courage is seeping through your vein, but seeing how affected he is literally made you ecstatic to tease him more. You briskly moves the satin night dress to your head and throws it across the room, baring all your lower body area.

“No underwear? Fuck, kitten, you better not act this carelessly when your roommate is here.” Jungkook breathily irks, enjoying the view of your almost naked body against him, yet spends no more second to detach your bra until your breasts are dangling freely. He immediately sucks a breath at the amazing sight.

“You are so fucking beautiful.” Jungkook throatily whispers, more to himself before he engulfs both your breasts with his palm. He moves to pinch your hardened pebbles, feeling high with your moans that is literally a green light inside his mind that you are indeed enjoying his act. He swiftly buries your right nipple inside his mouth, giving it a light suck, flicking it with his skillful tongue which turns you to a moaning mess. You close your eyes, feeling the tension inside your body build up while cradling his face closer to you, your fingers pulling the hair on his scalp. You do not even realize his left hand has left your breast, now moving to circle your bare clit, and you instantly mewl in pleasure.

“What are you so wet for, kitten? Tell me.” He breathily hisses, moving to coat his two fingers with your remnants, dips it inside his mouth and licks it dry. Your pupil dilates at such a dirty act, but still Jungkook is unhappy with your lack of response, he hits your throbbing cunt. “Use your fucking tongue to answer.”

You instantly mewl to reply, albeit stuttering when you feel his forefinger finally buries inside of you. “Of course you, sir. I am wet because of you.”

Jungkook grins in satisfaction, before he wastes no mercy and buries three fingers inside you, stretching you deliciously until you whimper in satisfaction. “So freaking wet, I bet I can slide right in. Are you going to let anyone do this to you, kitten? Hmm?”

“No, sir...” You groggily answer, your head is soaked in all kinds of lust.

“Louder! Let your fucking neighbors hear it.” Jungkook growls, pushing his digits further inside until you claw on his clothed shoulder. Fuck him for still being in his shirt—you’d do anything to mark him now.

“No, sir. Only you can make me like this…”

He sinisterly laughs, pleased with your easy compliance. “You better not be lying, kitten. Don’t you let anyone do this to you, especially fucking Kim Taehyung.”

Your eyebrows immediately scrunched at the name, but it could probably be the last thing you can contemplate now that his fingers are still beautifully moving in and out of your wet cunt. “I will, I fucking will. But get this fucking shirt off and fuck me, sir—I need to feel you bare against me.”

As he is about to enter you, he suddenly freezes. “Do you have a condom here?” He breathily asks, realize that he did not take even one with him—as fucking you was literally the last possibility he could think of before. God, does he really need to stop now?

“I don’t have a condom—but I am on the pill and safe, I swear.” You whisper, the ache on your core starting to cloud your head and better judgement. Fuck, Jungkook better be fast or you’ll be dead by then.

“Me too. I tested myself back in the States, and haven’t been sleeping with anyone since.”

“Really? How can?” You unconsciously ask, seriously flabbergasted with the fact that Jungkook hasn't fucked anyone after he moved into the city. The Jungkook you knew was so much of a god of stamina—he literally lasted five rounds with you before and still managed to have an erection after, when you can’t even feel your legs. He is that crazy for sex.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’ll tell you all about it later, but I need to fuck you raw now or I’ll go insane.” He hurriedly answers, instantly throws his shirt away as his whole body is bare against yours. Jungkook reaches for his dick, as his fingers move to give it a few strokes. He is now coating it with your remnants by hitting your entrance lightly with his dick. Even with such action you are already a moaning mess, as you bit your lips in anticipation.

Yet when the head is about to dip inside you, you reach for the bed sheet, clenching the fabric harshly. You haven’t been sleeping around for months now, you’re sure it’s going to hurt a bit—especially with that excessive size of his.

“How are you so freaking big? Fuck, don’t go too rough on me, Jungkook..” You softly whisper, and Jungkook instantly nods. No matter how crazy and a true dom he is, he would not hurt or go against your consent—that’s just how much he loves and respects you.

Even with the heavy urge to fuck you senseless like he wants to, he surely takes his whole joyful time in making love. His length pushing inside you, stretching you wondrously that the pain turns into pleasure in no time. You let out a breathy moan when he flicks your nipple to keep you on the edge. “Damn, you are wonderful. I can’t believe I was able to live those years without this taste.”

“Fuck, Jungkook.” You moan, biting your lips as you nearly can’t hold yourself from screaming. How can sex with Jungkook be this mindblowing? You had one night stands previously with other person, but sex with him is like on another level—that’s probably what feelings can do to sex. “Faster, now. Don’t hesitate.”

At the invitation, the worries that he’s going to hurt you dissolve as he fastens and follow his own pace, his dick fucking you senseless with ragged breath. God, how he wishes he can do this every second of the day, buried inside you, looking at your pleasured face drowned in lust and pleasure, your beautiful moans and fingers scratching his back. He’d trade anything to have you like this again.

“Fuck, kitten, how are you so tight? I am fucking close.” Jungkook groans as he chases his high, sensing your walls are now clenching him tightly. He inches closer to engage you in another kiss, his tongue pushing inside you while his digits are circling your clit. You claw his back, letting out all sound with no holds back as the pleasures are too much now—the orgasm building up inside you, and Jungkook definitely can sense it coming. “Cum now, kitten.”

While Jungkook and you are still engaged in another heated kiss, your high finally comes as you cum on his dick. “Good girl.” He whispers with one last kiss before he chases his own, and not even another second he pulls out, squirting his cum all over your stomach.

You frown, looking at the liquid on your stomach. “Damn it, you should’ve cum inside me. I’m on the pill anyway.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes at your remarks, yet he is grinning from ear to ear. He lays beside you, engaging you in another soft, slow kiss as you close your eyes, your palms settled on the side of his face. “I love you.” He whispers after letting go, his beautiful doe eyes literally shining with the creases that is apparent whenever he is smiling wide. It seeps warmth to your heart.

The reply for his confession is already at your tongue, but Jungkook quickly scoots away to stand on the floor. You bit your lips, disliking the fact that he is too far from your reach, no matter how fast he’ll be back. You need him here, to ensure that everything is not just a wet dream of yours. “Come back, don’t leave me.” You whine, and Jungkook giggles breathily.

“Let’s get you all cleaned up, clingy McGee. I’ll get you a wet towel.”

Another minute and Jungkook is back with what he promised, as he closes beside you and wipes his own cum off your stomach.

“What a waste. You should’ve cum in my tongue and let me swallow it all.” You mutter half joking half seriously while yawning, as your eyes follow his every movement. He sends you a warning glare, unhappy with your constant teasing.

“If you don’t want me to pin you against the matters now and fuck you against the wall until you’re screaming for mercy, stop it.”

“Geez, sooo grumpy.” You giggle, scooting closer to him as in chase of heat after he settles beside you, draping the blanket to cover both your bodies.

“I’ll take you up on that tomorrow, though.” He lightly giggles, and you’re the one now rolling your eyes on him. He envelopes you around his arm, pressing another kiss on your forehead before caressing your head to sleep—just the way he remembers would instantly send you to slumber.

But no matter how tired you already are, your body are still high on adrenaline due to the great sex you just had—you just cant seems to sleep. Not when Jungkook is here holding you close, looking at you like that with evident love in his eyes. And suddenly an idea pops inside your head, until you smirk in mischief.

“Why are you smiling like that? I told you to sleep.” He asks cautiously. You shrug to pretend innocence, before scooting closer until your bare waist is glued on his own, slightly rubbing it against his semi-hard dick. Wow, the self control on this guy is impressive for not initiating a second round.

Jungkook immediately curses at your teasing, yet the pleasure in his face is unmissed. “Fuck, what are you—“

“I’m sweating, Jungkook. I want to take a shower.” You whine seductively, your fingers stray to the lower parts of his body now, caressing his semi. Jungkook’s eyes are now unmistakably dark, as you realize that you might just awaken the true dom in Jungkook.

“I was literally being civil since you got to go back home with fucking Taehyung tomorrow, but damn—I’ll fuck you so bad anyone know who fucked you tonight, huh? I’ll make sure you can’t walk straight tomorrow, kitten.” He smirks, and that literally sends jitters right to your core in deep anticipation. You missed it—the feeling of Jungkook mercilessly fucking you like there’s no tomorrow.

Jungkook instantly scoops you out of bed in one movement, the blanket falls on the floor. Your legs are linked around his waist, your throbbing entrance pressed against his erection as you rub it for relief. His mouth aggressively attacking yours for domination, as his firm legs walk towards your shower.

“Let’s get my kitten thoroughly cleaned, okay?” Jungkook teasingly moans to your ear, his thumbs are now pinching your hardened nipples. Your whole body shivers.

Thus begin the best sex you ever have in your whole life.

You wake up groggily with the sunshine seeping through your window. What happened with you, why are you feeling the biting pain all over your body? The memory of last night instantly hits you like an explosion.

You had sex with Jungkook—which lasted three freaking rounds.

And fuck wasn’t he holding back. He literally was just like you remembered, a true dom that sent your knees weak, pleasuring you like nobody could. He took care of your body like it's the only thing on his mind—and you would be lying if you say you didn’t enjoy his true dom self released, marking you all over your body with love bites, forcing you to plead for his mercy and leaving you breathless nearly all the time.

But he is not here now.

You gaze to the cold side of your bed where Jungkook slept last night. It must be long since he left, only with a small note on your bedside that ensures you that what happened last night isn’t just a mere dream.

Hi, thanks for last night. I had to leave, something urgent came up. See you around.

Fuck, if that wasn’t such a lousy note to start the day with. Such a fool you are to expect the sex matters to you as much as it is to him.

Regardless of the ticked off feeling you had for Jungkook, you scoot off your bed, trying to use both your throbbing legs to stand up. The pain instantly shoots up that you instantly bite your lips, limping your way out of the door. Fuck Jungkook, you loathe that fucker so much now.

“Whoa whoa—slow down babe.” Namjoon instantly shouts after you’re carelessly limping out of the door closer to him. “Someone got a good dicked down yesterday.” He teases, and you sent him an annoyed expression.

“Why are you so grumpy? You finally had sex after months, you should be glowing.” Namjoon giggles while stirring his coffee. You flip him off, settling to sit on the sofa. “You want some coffee?”

“Yes, thank you.” You mutter. “What time did you come back home?”

“Around two, maybe? Wasn’t really in my best state of mind, so that could be wrong too. What’s up?”

He walks closer to you, offering a cup of coffee with scent that succeeds in relaxing your mind a bit. “I did not meet the guy, you don’t have to worry. Who was it anyway? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Around two? He left before two? “Did you check up on me when you come?” You ask dubiously, knowing Namjoon has always checked up on you when he arrives in the apartment.

“Yes, there was no one. I saw you sleeping, and went to my room right after.”

“Fuck—he really left that early?!” You hiss, not liking the fact that he left you just later after you sleep with such a lousy note that clearly indicates nothing—he probably uses the same note for all his previous one night stands.

“But.. You know, it could be weird for strangers to stay the night after sex—“

“But he’s not a stranger.” You vengefully replied, the hurt evident in your tone. “It’s Jungkook. Jungkook slept with me yesterday and fled right after with a fucking lousy ‘thanks for last night’ note.”

“Jungkook? Jeon Jungkook?” He asks with goggling eyes. He seriously thought he misheard your words. “But you hated him.”

“It was complicated. We.. We had a past together. And these few days just rekindled those feelings, and.. I thought he was really serious about it.” You whispers, the tears are welling in the corner of your eyes. “I tried thinking positively, that he really had something to do, but he left so quickly and also with this note.. got me thinking. Was it too fast? What if everything is just in my head, and he’s only after sex?”

Namjoon looks at the yellow note on your grasp, taking it to read the messy handwriting for himself. Yet no matter how hard he thinks about it, he understands your doubt. It was indeed a messy, hurried note that he indeed heard people often leave their one night stand.

“It’s still uncertain. Just talk to him, okay?” Namjoon asks, his palm resting on your knees and giving it a light squeeze. “There might be something you don’t know yet.”

You sigh, crumpling the note and throwing it carelessly. “I fucking hate him.”

“Hey, by the way you left your phone here, and Taehyung called this morning.” He informs, but you know that expression he wears—something is troubling his mind.

“What is that face?” You instantly point. “You always use that expression when you have something to say.”

“You know me so well.” Namjoon grins, eyes trained on the coffee on his grasp. “I had a drink with Taehyung and others yesterday. And yeah, after the drink, I just think that he.. He might be still in love with you.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows scrunched, severely confused.

“That’s all I can say. If you want to know, better ask the man himself. You’re meeting him soon, right?” Namjoon reminds you, and you abruptly stand up—still holding back the pain, after being reminded that Taehyung shall be here in no time.

“And, Y/N?”

You halt your steps, looking back to the guy. “What?”

“Just.. don’t hesitate. Go with your heart.” Namjoon advises. Your throat constricts. Follow your heart? You don’t even understand what that idiot wants. Your heart is a drunk fool, doesn’t really know what’s good for itself, and always foolishly seeks something that is not going to happen. Why should you go with it?

He is apparently not done, and clears his throat and points to his own neck. “And maybe, put some concealer on? Don’t want your mother to have a heart attack seeing those marks on your neck.”

And that’s how in forty minutes, you ended up wearing navy green turtleneck and long skinny jeans—thankfully the chilly weather does support your outfits—descending your apartment building after Taehyung said he’s already parked in front. You were distinctly nervous, going back to your family home with Taehyung after the longest time. Just being around him sends you on your edge, and you could only wish nothing is going to mess everything up.

The first thing you see when the elevator is opened is Taehyung’s face that you abruptly take a step back in shock. His face immediately lightens up. “Good morning. You’re here.”

“Yes. I thought I’ll see you in your car?”

“Sure, I just thought it would be great to see your apartment.” Taehyung answers, a soft smile appearing on his lips. Namjoon’s sentences instantly pass through your head as a warning. You clear your throat.

“Namjoon is upstairs, though...”

“So? Is that a problem for me to see your apartment?” He mischievously teases, pulling you to exit the apartment. “What were you thinking, huh?”

“Nothing!” You abruptly answer, silently letting Taehyung hold your palm against his, no matter how conflicted it makes you feel.

“By the way, are you okay, babe?” Taehyung asks in concern after arriving at the car, reminding you to put on your seatbelt. Your eyebrow raises.

“I think so. Why?”

“Did you fall or anything? You are.. Kind of limping.” He questions in deep concern, looking straight to your eyes. At once, your breath hastens with anxiety. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes! Of course—I fell in the shower yesterday, and got hurt a bit, yeah..” You tightly mutter. At least it was not a hundred person lie.

Gosh, how you wish you can punch that annoying motherfucker now…

“Taehyung! You’re here!”

You glare at your beaming mother slightly skipping to welcome both of you from her tended yard, crushing Taehyung in a big hug. “Mom, I’m right here too. And last time I checked, I’m the one who is related by blood to you.”

“Don’t be such a party pooper, Y/N.” Taehyung giggles, affectionately hugging back your mother. “I’m sorry mom, Y/N is soooo grumpy this morning. She may have woken up on the wrong side of the bed.”

“It’s just I haven’t seen you in so long. How is my precious son doing?!” Your mother beams, instantly welcoming Taehyung inside the house, leaving you alone to pick up the fruits and cake you brought from Seoul. But not even long, the scowl changes into a contented smile on your lips.

You are grateful that nothing really changes, especially with Taehyung. He is still the one person you can depend the most in this whole world.

Suddenly, among your wandering thoughts your phone rings. You hurriedly pick up, not even checking the caller. “Hello?”

“Hi, is this Y/N?” You notice the change of language, and silently checks the number. Abroad numbers? Suspicious.

“Yes, this is she.” You doubtfully answer.

“Hello, This is Jess. I’m here in Seoul today, can we meet?”

Jess? Who is Jess? You can’t literally remember anyone called Jess beside… your friend back in the States. You were not even remotely close, so there’s no way it could be her.

“Sorry, but which Jess?”

She instantly clears her throat, probably embarrassed at the possibility of you not remembering. “We went to the same high school back in the States, before your parents divorced and you moved to Korea.”

So that’s the correct Jess then. But that still doesn’t explain why she is calling you right now, especially with that unnecessary mention of your parent’s divorce. “Ah, I remember now. But why? Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Yes, I am in Seoul now. I have to talk to you about something, I promise it won’t take a while.”

“But why? We haven’t talked in years, what could possibly be the reason why we should meet?” You annoyedly point out, not even caring that you have turned hostile to her. You really don’t want to waste any time, especially with Taehyung now at the door, signing you to come in.

“It’s about Jungkook.” She curtly answers, and your heart literally skips a beat at the name. What’s with Jungkook? Your heart clenches with the fear rising in your chest.

“His family and I are here now to take him back to the States, so I have to let you know something. Let’s meet.”

It is not long until you and Jess are already sitting in front of each other inside a cafe near your family home. You left Taehyung at home with your family, and promised them you’ll be back in no time.

“You want to order something? My treat.” The girl says after ordering her drinks. You shake your head, not even enjoying the seconds uselessy passed with her. You are just desperate to get it over with and head home.

She shakes her head. “I didn’t remember you being this uptight, Y/N. Loosen up, will you?”

“Well, you don’t know, probably because we weren’t even that close?” You shoot and sigh. “Can we just go straight to the point? My mother is waiting at home.”

Jess hums. “And Kim Taehyung too?”

You glare at her, the uneasiness rising in your head. You have no idea why she should know anything about Taehyung. “What the—”

“I’ll cut to the chase. Jungkook is his family’s only son. His father already had his future all planned out, but then one day he ran away to work in a country far away, with a job that probably pays a quarter from what he could have back home.” She halts after the waitress serves her drinks. “And then we finds out that he is here because of you, a fucking ex—who was just a mere fuck buddies. So we need you to think straight and stop seeing him.”

You stare at her for a full minute until you break in laughter. “What’s funny?” She irks.

“Fuck, this is all just like a midday telenovela, that’s what.” You giggle, still finding mirth in her previous statement. You clear your throat, and send her an not amused look. “Let me fill you in. I don’t fucking care. He’s here because himself, you’re thinking too highly of that one month we fucked. And who are you to say that anyway? You’re his mother or what?”

Jess condescendingly smirks in triumph. “I am his girlfriend. We have been dating all through college before he moved here. I have all right to tell cockroaches like you to scoot off. Besides, you already have Kim, no? Are you really that thirsty for lots of men?”

That statement literally catches you off guard. Girlfriend? Jungkook never mentions anything about a girlfriend. He literally said that he hadn’t been with anyone and that he thought about you most of the time. Was it all… just a lie?

It was like a knock to your chest, but you won’t let it show. “Then you should know better that if you dated all through college, there is no way he could move here because of me.” You calmly explain, the anger and sadness of betrayal building up in your chest. It feels hard to even breathe, and you feel so stupid for believing his words could be true—now that you rewind literally made no sense whatsoever. Jungkook is not with anyone for years, only because of you? Fuck, that’s literally nonsensical.

“And if you’re his girlfriend, you should know he’s here because he is depressed—feeling the inadequacy and constant restriction in doing whatever he wants to do. If you’re his girlfriend, you should support whatever he wants to do for his happiness, instead of teaming up with his father that literally treated him like a fucking robot.” You spit out in dismay, the tears are welling up in your eyes. You hated the fact that you’ve foolishly put your trust on someone undeserving, yet again.

It’s clear now that you have left the girl speechless, and you quickly stomp out of the cafe inside of Taehyung’s car you borrowed. You quickly drive out, with tears freely running on your cheeks, your heart turns hollow and vacant now that you know.

You are a fucking idiot, that’s what.

It’s already eleven pm, you are now resting in your room in the family home. Your mother successfully tricked you into staying the night, but Taehyung said he needed to go back to his apartment because he doesn’t have any shirt to change to—denying your mother’s forward offer to let him stay the night with you in your room. The level of trust your mother has in Taehyung is seriously ridiculous—but still he said he’ll be back tomorrow morning to pick you up, as he needed to work in the headquarters for a full week next week.

‘Are you okay?’ Taehyung queried when he was about to drive back, hand clasped against yours. ‘You seemed a little bit upset after that meeting.’

Even then, you could only answer him with a vague shrug, a hug and you cried. Taehyung didn’t ask any further, patting your back calmly while whispering calming words to your ear. He understood you need your space more than anything, and you were thankful.

But now, flipping on your bed for hours hasn’t drifted you to dreamland yet, especially with a head filled with Jungkook and overwhelming queries on how he’s doing right now. And you hate yourself for still caring—it’s freaking Jungkook, who left you after he had enough, who easily lied to you just to sleep with you. Why can’t you just ditch him like that?

Maybe you’re really in love. A total dumbass.

Suddenly, your phone rings. Unknown numbers. Call with Jess did traumatize you, but not taking it will leave you close to no wink of sleep, so you do.

“Hello?” You warily questions. There are around ten seconds before the familiar sigh is heard on the other side of the call.

“Y/N, this is Jungkook.” The familiar voice is close to whispers, and all you can hear is how tired he sounds. Something definitely stirs inside of you. “Are you in your mother’s home? I’ll be there in ten. Can we talk?”

You know it. You know it very, very well. He might as well done it over the phone—it may hurt less. “Is it urgent? Can’t.. can’t we just do it over the phone?”

“No, we need to talk directly. It doesn’t feel right doing it on the phone.”

Fuck, it’s really is. Jungkook is breaking up with you—with no relationships to begin with. The tears are clamming up on your eyes, and you can only hope you’re strong enough to pretend everything’s okay. Cause you hate to show him how weak you are for him.

And not even ten minutes, Jungkook messages you he’s already waiting outside. You walk outside your room to see that your whole house is already dark—your family must have gone to sleep. Good, so they don’t have to see you bawling your eyes out.

When you are at your porch, you can already make out his silhouette from the car. His hand is on the wheel, other hands are resting on his temples—the lines of his face are harsh and cold. Taking a deep breath, you give yourself one last warning and enter his car.

“What is it?” You curtly ask, and Jungkook looks at you with a weirded out stare.

“Why are you angry?”

You roll your eyes, arms folded on your chest. “Because I know clearly why you are here. Jess explicitly told me about everything—you don’t need to waste both of our times, going all the way here just because you want to break up with me. That too if anything of what we did was more than something to you.”

Jungkook stares at you like you’re spluttering nonsense, which you actually are and it leaves you disconcerted. “What—what the fuck are you saying now?”

You scowl. “No need to lie. I know exactly what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna need to move back, right? And you’ll leave your whole life here—” The tears choke you up. “You’ll leave me here. But let me say it, do whatever, Jungkook. It will be just like before, right? It’s not like we've never done this before.”

If you’re really doing it to hurt him, you succeed. Because the pain is literally insufferable. “Is that what we mean to you? Are you going to just let everything like this like not a shit happened to us?”

“You’re funny, Jungkook. There’s never been an ‘us’, you know it.” You vex with a sarcastic grin. “There’s never been us. Because you lied to me, fuck me and stood me up like nothing happened, right?”

“That’s not true.” He firmly said. “I left first because of my father, Y/N. He told me he’s in town. I need to meet him, why can’t you understand?!”

“I know that! But you expected me to believe all you said when Jess literally came all the way from the States to tell me to fuck off and that you’re in a relationship with her all through college.” Jungkook freezes on his spot, but you’re not done. “Is that wrong, Jungkook? Tell me she lied and I’ll grovel at your feet for forgiveness.”

At Jungkook’s silence, you can feel a stingy pang inside your chest. It was true, he lied. “So she was right? You lied to me—telling me there was no one, only to sleep with me?”

“It’s not true, Y/N. Jess was just… someone I affiliated with. We were not in a relationship.” He hurriedly tries to explain, hand scratching his hair in frustration. “And why does it matter anyway? It’s all in the past, it doesn’t matter now. I only care about you, you know it.”

“It matters! Because you told me there was no one. Because you lied to me, Jungkook. Why can’t you see how wrong it is?”

“She was just someone I fucked with all through college. Even if she thought there was something else, there was none. I set it straight to her, but she never understands.” He softly whispers now. “I regretted it, Y/N. But you can’t hold it against me. I had no feelings for her.”

You know his words should’ve brought reassurance, but the words clearly strike something inside you—a remembrance of pain. You croak. “You know what, that’s exactly what Taehyung told me that time.”

“What-what’s that fucker doing here in our talk?” His voice raises in displease at your mention of another man during your serious talk. “So was everything about Taehyung? All of this—even when we’re fighting, you’re thinking about him. It was all about him all along.”

“No, but the exact thing happened again. You were being dishonest to me. You hurt me, Jungkook.” You whisper softly, cheeks already flowing with tears that it literally throws him off at how fragile you look. “I can’t… I can’t shake that feeling. How I felt when she said everything, like she owned you, like… like she has rights for you. Like I was someone you played with behind her. It was exactly.. that.”

“Hey, I’m sorry you had to feel that way.” Jungkook whispers and pulls you closer inside his arm, heart clenched in guilt at your weak sob. He hates himself for doing that to you—to let you enter the maze of problems he has tried to escape from a while now. You don’t deserve that. “I’m sorry for being such a jerk. I know I should’ve been clearer about everything.”

Ten minutes of crying your concern and heart out inside his arms before you open your voice. “So, she was right? Are you leaving, then?”

He dubiously hums. “I have to, otherwise my father will never stop trying to get me back. I’ll try finishing whatever I can there, and come back right after.” He whispers, palms buried on your hair. “I promise it won’t take long. Can you wait for me?”

You look at Jungkook's hopeful eyes and the ‘yes’ is already at your tongue—when something awakens you. You cannot do that to yourself. You cannot let yourself be miserable, waiting for him again like a broken clock. You cannot gamble your way to mend everything when he leaves, not when there’s any possibility like he’ll leave you again like he did. You’re not that strong.

“I can’t.” You shortly reply, and at the unexpected answer, Jungkook is visibly aggrieved.

“Why? Why can’t you? I’ll be back soon, Y/N—Why do you give up on us that easily?” Jungkook is peeved at your easy surrender. He loves you, he is willing to work it out for you, and it weakens him to see you’re not on board to fight for any feelings you both have for each other. “I know you, Y/N. I know me. We had something together. Please, don’t give up on us.”

“I can’t, because I don’t want to let you hurt me again, Jungkook. Happy?” You shouts, carrying the long pain you have carried throughout your days. “I hate myself for letting myself trust and ending up getting hurt. If I wait for you, I’ll always feel insecure, Jungkook. I’ll always wonder if you’re going back, if you have found someone else, if we’re just going to hurt each other. Because that's what people did to me—to my mother, to us… I can’t.”

Jungkook shudders at the mention of your family. Did he hear it wrong? “Did you mean… your father? But I thought… I thought—”

“Yes.” The hurt multiplies, palpable on your face. “My father lied to me. He is a manipulative jerk who never gave a shit about his family, and made my mother the bad guy in front of me. He didn’t care at all—my mother was struggling with cancer and he didn’t give a shit and still went with the divorce. I just knew after my mother went to find me, beg me to come with her after the divorce.”

The regret at his old self, patronizing you without knowing the truth hits him like a brick. “God, Y/N, I’m sorry. I was—”

“I know. It was such a stressful time, and the pain my mother had to endure because of him—I hated him so much I could die, Jungkook. He hurt me, he hurt us. And he is now living well with his new family, the one he cheated with before. It is not fucking fair.”

Jungkook moves forward to hold you close, his heart wrenching in pain to imagine how agonizing it must have been for you and your mother. “I’m sorry for everything. I was a stupid jerk who thought I knew everything, you had every rights to hate me. I am very, very sorry, Y/N.”

“That’s why I have trust issues. I know very well that one bad apple doesn’t define everything, but it made me more cautious above anything. I can’t afford being weak now, I can’t gamble on the future whether what we had now is gonna last. I don’t want to be naive.”

No matter how he wants to refute your words, he can’t. Because Jungkook understands where you’re coming from, and how traumatizing it must have been. He’d be insensitive to shrug your concern away. “I understand. But I won’t ask for more, Y/N..”

“I’ll be back before December ends.” Jungkook determinedly claims, holding you closer that his nose point is touching yours, warm palms against the side of your face which sends your whole being to instant chaos. His eyes are like a deep sea, that you’re willing to fall in and never out, and all you want to do is hold him close, kiss him and never let go.

“And when we finally meet, I’ll let you know that I will still be loving you then and I’m going to fight for us. No matter what happened.”

After having breakfast with both your mother, grandma and Taehyung, you hug the goodbyes. You regret it though, the days passed so quickly and you don’t really have much time to completely be in the moment with your family since your mind is wandering far. If your mother knows, she doesn’t comment—but you know that soft gaze she endows, she is worried for you.

“Goodbye, son! Do visit us regularly, okay?” Your mother beams, hugging Taehyung. She glances at you walking to your room to grab your purse and continues. “I’m very worried for her. Can you please make sure she’s okay?”

“What happened?” Taehyung asks in concern. He did notice something changed after you met your friend yesterday, but it’s definitely getting prominent this morning.

“Someone came to our house yesterday, and spent some time in the car. After, she walks out crying.” Your mother frets, squeezing Taehyung’s palm. “I’m worried. Can you keep an eye on her?”

“Of course I will.” Taehyung smiles in a comforting manner, tapping on your mother’s palm. “You can count on me, mom.”

Your mother instantly smiles, as she understands by heart she really can count on Taehyung for you. “Thank you. Get going now!” She gestures to walk you out to Taehyung’s car.

Sitting inside the car, your eyes are trained out the window, minds wandering far to last night’s encounter with Jungkook. He said he’ll be back, and you shouldn’t believe him—you told him you won’t, but deep inside you never stopped wishing his words are true. You foolishly believe him with all your heart.

“Hey.”

Taehyung’s call abruptly takes you off your wandering thoughts, shifting your gaze at him. You clear your throat. “Yes? Sorry, I was daydreaming for a while there.”

“I think you’ve been daydreaming all the time we’re here.”

He said the words softly and didn’t mean anything, yet it instantly hits you with guilt. “I’m sorry, I was—”

“Was it about Jungkook?”

“What?” Your eyes widened, heart literally skips a beat. Are you really that obvious?

Taehyung stares at you for a few seconds, then focusing back on the street. “It’s just a lucky guess. And seeing how shocked you were just now, it must be true.”

“It is.” You look down to your lap. “I’m sorry for concerning you.”

“What are you sorry about.” Taehyung chuckles, tapping the top of your head. “He is finally here. The one you’ve been thinking about all through college, your first love, your first heartbreak is here. You should be happy.”

It’s true though. You can’t even count how many people you have pushed away only because you’re thinking about Jungkook. In the period where everyone is just desperate to find love or mere sex, you are not even remotely close to it. You weren’t with anyone all through college. All because you’re thinking about how it feels right to be with Jungkook, how in love you actually were and how foolish it could be to let go of one thing that could have been true just because you were too deep in emotion.

And Taehyung was one of the people that lived through that phase of shutting any possibility of love. He couldn’t even forget how his college friends, or even strangers asking him why are you so closed off, refusing any advancement anyone did. But Taehyung shrugged it away, because he knew how you still couldn’t forget your first love. He didn’t even know how or why you are still able to hold into that love for such a long time—not until he fell for you himself.

When he asked you to be his girlfriend a year ago and you said yes, he really thought you were ready to move on. Finally. And maybe you were, before he messed up everything and it’s already too late. Because Jungkook is back, and how can he compare to the first love, which vaguely ended and still left a sour taste of regret in your heart.

When he saw Jungkook that morning, he knew. He knew that he didn’t stand a chance. Because it’s apparent how head over heels he is still with you, like you are with him. And he just needs to accept it.

“Go with your heart, Y/N.” Taehyung croaks, holding the deep urge inside him forcing him to stop being such goody two shoes. Taehyung is still in love with you. Madly. He loves you for quite a long time now, and he wanted to be yours. But how can he be selfish when you are clearly struggling like this?

“Do you know? The biggest regret I have is to let you go.”

You glance at Taehyung, as something stirs inside your heart with him addressing your past. “I regret not making everything clear. I regret not fighting for us. I regret not being honest with you, because I was selfish and too much of a coward.”

“I still love you.” Taehyung whispers, the grip on the wheel tightened. You stare at him, speechless while Namjoon’s past words suddenly run through your mind. “But it’s okay. Because above anything, I want you to be happy. Seeing you being miserable makes me extremely sad, Y/N. Please, just go with your heart and be happy.”

Another minute passed in silence, before you mutter gloomily. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to say..”

“Let me guide you, then.” Taehyung smiles, his palm resting over yours and gives it a light squeeze. “Thank you for loving me, Taehyung. I know we’ll get through this, as best friends. And you are right, I’ll go with my heart and try to take risk in love, because even though it might hurt me, at the very least I followed my heart instead of my fear.”

His words literally punch you in the gut, because now that he’s the one saying it to you, it never felt clearer. You indeed have been following your fear, discarding how you truly feel for anything or anyone. You love Jungkook, but being afraid has shielded you from following what you really want to do.

Another ten minutes before you give his hand a light squeeze. “You know, I never thought you'd be that much of a bigger person.” You lightly joke, in which Taehyung responds with a snort. “You were not usually like this. Where’s my selfish and self-righteous bestie at?!”

“Well, don’t consider I’m letting you go just yet.” He shrugs jokingly, rolling his eyes. You heartily laugh at that. “Besides, life is still long, right? Don’t count it on me giving up just yet, Y/N. I might just steal your heart away, and that lucky bastard Jungkook should be nervous.” You gaze at Taehyung who is looking back at you with his signature boxy smile, and your heart lightens. God, how lucky you are to have such a great companion like him.

“You know what? He really should.”

7 Weeks Later…

Jungkook is looking at the watch on his wrist. It’s already 4PM in his time and 8AM in Seoul. You must be preparing for work, he thinks to himself, unconsciously smiling. That’s what he does whenever it concerns you. He’ll be adored at the thoughts of you walking hastily inside the office, throwing all your belongings on your desk before you begin working. He always finds it endearing. And then, he’ll miss you. He will miss looking at you, talking and bantering with you again.

But not today, since he’ll be over in Seoul in no time.

All seven weeks back in the States were dreadful, but he managed. He knew that it was longer than expected, but he managed to steal the time to find you again. Because in all sincereness, all that he can think of is you.

blueberry_25 : good thursday morning! Soo happy gonna end the week soon! [16:05]

blueberry_25 : what are you doing this weekend? Do you wanna meet? :) [16:06]

It’s funny how he gives you the space you deserve, yet still manages to talk to you again nearly everyday. All because of the pen pal event held by the company which he has resigned from. He needed to take a long break, and had to resign after. The company did give him an option if he wanted to return back, but with the current condition, he is not really sure whether he can return for good.

But at least he got some time to see you again. Which is good.

91snowball : hi, blue, hope you have a great day today too! :) [16:07]

91snowball : we’re going to meet tomorrow. The christmas event, remember? [16:07]

blueberry_25 : I nearly forgot! So hectic today since that finance guy resigned and caused such chaos again. Thanks for the reminder though lol [16:08]

Jungkook literally winces, as you haven’t stopped complaining about the sudden resignation of the finance guy that is literally him regarding your overwhelming work caused by a certain prematurely resigning self-centered jerk. Even one time he mistakenly apologized for it. Nevertheless, it was all fun and games before he thought about how to break it up to you. That he is a snowball, the person you’ve been chatting with anonymously for months, and nearly everyday now. Talking to you were the highlights of his days, and he couldn’t stop. Even for a day.

And he is in the dark on how to break the truth to you.

The soft chimes of his phone takes him away from the busy thoughts. Jungkook looks down and finds another message from you. The heartfelt smile instinctively appears on his lips.

blueberry_25 : did you get me anything? ;) Can I set my expectations high? [16:10]

91snowball : haha hope so. See you tomorrow, okay? [16:10]

The announcement for passengers to onboard is heard, so Jungkook raises from his seat to join the queue. An anonymous feeling shot through his chest, a heartfelt smile formed on his lips. He is going back. Finally. He finally is going to see you again and it feels terribly unreal.

Right when another message arrives, and at once the corners of his mouth instantly flattens.

Mom : Son,don’t forget. I’ll pick you up next week. [16:12]

“Bye, Y/N, Hoseok!”

Another person from your team has escaped the dreaded office, yet you and Hoseok are still not showing any sign of moving from your respective places. There are still a few action items on your list that need to be checked off by the night if you want to have a peaceful weekend, and you are determined to have them finished asap.

Because you are going to meet Snowball tomorrow. And you’re going to spend your whole weekend with him too.

“Y/N, why are you not going home?” Hoseok asks in worry while glancing at your screen. “This report needs to be submitted on Monday. You can finish it tomorrow.”

“But tomorrow we are having that Christmas event. I want to finish this before then.” You answer nonchalantly, still typing agilely on your keyboard. Seeing how befuddled Hoseok looks, you roll your eyes. “That pen pal secret santa event. Remember?”

Hoseok instantly turns silent at the mention of the event. God, how could he forget? Tomorrow the office’s Christmas party will be held, along with the first meeting of the anonymous pen pal buddies. Jimin and his team have everything planned out, in which the pair would give a gift inside a box which includes a card to describe and help find who is their pen pal.

It was indeed a brilliant idea. But maybe not to the fact that Jungkook is literally your pen pal, and the fact that you are unaware of how close he has been even after he left.

It doesn’t even need an exquisite skill to guess that something happened with Jungkook and you, especially discernible after he left. You turn greatly silent, and he found you zooming out more than you’d like to admit, and you’re shine dimmed. It was incredibly saddening for nearly everyone, but it’s not for long since you found someone to take your minds off things—who turns out to be your pen pal, or ironically, Jungkook.

And Hoseok has multiple times warned Jungkook that it’s not going to work. You would be furious to find out—who would adore the fact that someone is indeed lying?

“So… your partner will be coming?” Hoseok hesitatingly asks, looking down his lap. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. I know he’ll be coming.” You shift your gaze to Hoseok and beam. “He’ll give me a present and I’ll finally meet him.”

Hoseok nods, but something urges him to continue. “But… what if he won’t come?”

Your eyebrows scrunched. “What do you mean?”

He clears his throat. “Maybe? You know, he might have something to do tomorrow, urgently. Or maybe he is not that invested in this like you are? Because let’s be real here, Y/N, you are too deep into this.”

You send a thriving punch to his shoulder that Hoseok immediately winces and. “What is that for?!”

“For being such a source of negativity. Seriously, Hoseok, you used to be sooo positive. Stop hanging out too much with Yoongi.”

“I’m not kidding, Y/N.” Hoseok sternly gazes at you. “Don’t put your hopes too high. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

You smile at him, not even an ounce of doubt seen on your face. “Snowball won’t disappoint me, Hoseok. He’s not like Jungkook.”

At such ironic statements, Hoseok immediately turns speechless—something inside him literally withers. God, how he wishes he could cease you from hurting...

It’s already eight pm, and Jungkook is still settling inside his car in front of the building where the Christmas Event is held. His right hand is tapping lightly on the wheel, inside his left grasp is a midnight green colored box in which is the present he prepared for you.

The event will be starting soon, but he’s still waiting for a cue from Yoongi—the only person who knew about his arrival in Korea—when he should be entering. Attract attention is the last he would want, especially when too many people or the bosses are around, as he is obviously not invited now that he has resigned.

Yet needless to say, it is not the main issue concerning his mind. He couldn’t even care less if he is going to be kicked out of the event, as long as he can see you and be with you again. But how can he hope so? All kinds of scenarios are running through his mind about how you would react to him being Snowball, your anonymous pen pal in which you have told him about nearly everything. And it's foolish to even think that you would be fine about him catfishing you—hopefully it’s not the correct term for that.

At first, it was just a mere idea during work, Jimin was joking about how he would make you as his anonymous pen pal after he was informed of a small piece about your past with Jungkook. And Jungkook was not going to think about it more, but he was desperate. He wanted to talk to you again without any resentment—but it could probably be the least thing you want to do in this lifetime, so he begged Jimin to arrange it for him. Even if it was merely anonymous.

But now it could probably be the best yet the worst thing that he had done to you. You are the thing that keeps him sane after being locked again in his hometown, but he is now gambling with the relationship you both have. He is literally lying to you again—just like the worst fight happened in front of your house porch. God, everything is literally a mess.

Suddenly, the sound of an incoming call disrupts his trainwreck thoughts. Min Yoongi.

“Jungkook, the event will be conducted in half an hour, you need to submit your present. The bosses are gone. Come.” Yoongi calmly informs, conflicting to the thoughts on Jungkook’s mind. The fear and insecurity instantly strikes him.

“I don’t know whether I should do this, I mean—”

“Look at your chat.”

Yoongi has an authority tone on his voice that Jungkook immediately obeys, opening his chat. Yoongi has sent a picture of you, lively talking with your friends. You look exquisite, wearing a red ball gown dress that falls on your knee, the blush is apparent on your cheek. You simply look.. stunning.

“She has waited and prepared all this shit because she believed her idiot, fucking selfish so-called pen pal is here. Seriously, you’re not doing any good by pretending again. Just come, Jungkook.”

At once, it was like a knock to his heart at how selfish and undeserving he is to you. It’s okay if you’re angry, he’ll grovel at your feet. And if you don’t want to see him again? Well, he just needs to wait again. He waited for five years to see you again—what is another waiting, right?

Heaving a deep breath, Jungkook finally steps out of his car. He cannot lie that he is excessively frightened, the image of you crying and pushing him away is vivid and it stings. But he promised you he’ll be back before the year ends, and he’ll live up to that promise.

Walking out of the lift, the first person he sees is Jimin, sitting behind the front table from the ballroom. He is now receiving gifts from various people, which Jungkook assumes must be for the pen pal event. He walks closer, until Jimin can finally see him, and somehow, upon meeting your face, he literally falls a few steps back, face bleached like he just saw a ghost.

“J-jungkook?”

Jungkook smiles and rests the gift on the table. “Hi, Jimin. This is my gift for her.”

“B-b-but how—why? How can you’re here? I thought—I thought you’re moving and—”

“Yes. But I’m here now.” Jungkook thinly smiles. “May I know what I should do next?”

“Y-yes. So, the pair will be divided into two rooms, and when we cue, we will let you find each other, with the stuff and card inside the gift.” The panic is still evident on his face, but Jungkook just shrugs it away. Jimin can be overreacting at times.

“May I enter my room now?”

Jimin instantly nods as an answer, and points to the room on his right. “You can enter the room on the right. But Jungkook?”

Jungkook stares at Jimin, waiting for the continuation. “Good luck there. And I’m sorry.” He clears his throat, and points to the room. “You go now.”

Jungkook doesn’t even know if that’s really something for Jimin to be sorry about, but he literally couldn’t care less when he’s just minutes away from meeting you. “Thanks.”

Inside the room, there are a few people who are high chance waiting for the pen pal committee as well. The moment he enters, he can see a few confused eyes staring at him, but the moment he finds Namjoon, he can finally breathe. Namjoon is not too different though, staring at him with weirded out eyes.

“Jungkook, you’re here?” He blinks a few times, rubbing his eyes. “Am I drinking too much champagne or are you really here?”

“I am.” He chuckles. “I came back to fulfill a promise, I guess.”

“Y/N? Because she’s your pen pal, right?” Jungkook nods slowly. “God, do you know there’s a very high chance that she’ll kick your ass for all this bamboozling shit?”

“Affirmatively.” Jungkook grins, yet his fingers are nervously fidgeting, a habit he inhibited since a month ago. “But, I just… I am trying, you know?”

Namjoon nods and taps on Jungkook’s back to relay comfort. “She loves you too. Even if she’s furious, she’ll come around.” Jungkook can only hope so.

At that time, the committees enter with a trolly of boxes that must be the pen pal gift. One of them hands Namjoon and Jungkook’s respective gifts. “You can start finding your pen pal now.”

Jungkook looks down on the blue box on his grasp, and he flinches with palms turning clammy from cold sweat, heartbeat too fast he could even hear it with his ear. Step by step, he enters the other room. Scanning the room, his sight instantly falls to you, smiling while looking down to the familiar box on your grasp. Your wavy hair settles perfectly on your shoulder, a serene smile formed on your lips.

‘I can’t, because I don’t want to let you hurt me again, Jungkook. Happy? I hate myself for letting myself trust and ending up getting hurt.’

Just when he is about to take another step closer to you, the remembrance of that night hits him straight in the gut. He is hurting you. Again. And you’ll leave. You’ll never want to see him again.

The weight on his shoulders triple at the petrifying scenario running through his mind, and Jungkook instinctively takes a step back and runs outside the room. No, he can’t do this. He is too scared. He thought he is ready to take every chance, but it turns out not much has changed, because he’s still the coward he was nearly five years ago.

Jungkook walks to the hotel balcony, heaving several deep breaths. The sky is exceptionally beautiful, the full moon is wandering in the sky and it invokes a memory within his mind.

About the night you cried in front of him for the first time.

“Are you afraid?” Jungkook whispered that night, gazing down at you. The loud blazing sound of bass was faintly heard, but both of you are sitting near the gate, looking out to the sky. You stare at him and shift back your empty gaze to the full moon. You despise that no matter how strenuous you tried to suppress the pain, it kept on rising back and numbs all your feelings.

“I am not afraid of you.” You weakly replied, the exhaustion vivid on your tone.

“I know.” Jungkook followed your gaze. “Are you afraid you’ll cry in front of me?”

You gazed at him, eyes filled with sadness and animosity. “What?”

“It’s literally a party inside. And you’ve been looking like you’re in a freaking funeral—well, beside the drinking part.” You were surprised with how susceptible he was. The day had indeed been counted as one of the worst days of your life, and it’s not even over yet. And you were fucking tired of crying, hence you decided to numb everything and wasted all your energy to alcohol instead. So at least you won’t remember again.

“Just cry.” He tranquilly whispers, his palm settles on the side of your face. “Those tears—I’ll catch them for you.”

And you just did.

Looking down to his lap, he is looking at the box on his grasp from you. Huffing a deep breath, he moves to open the box with not much thoughts—yet his mind abruptly turns blank after seeing the items resting in the box.

What… are these?

“Are you afraid?”

Turning on his heel, Jungkook’s strained gaze fell on the eyes he thought would never see this up close again. It’s you. You are literally just a distance away in front of him right now, that he might need to pinch himself to ensure everything is not a piece of his hallucination.

“What?”

“Because you look like you’re about to cry.” You whisper calmly, arms folded on your chest. “Are you that afraid to meet me again?”

Jungkook is now staring at you, face conflicted. He is at haze on everything that just unfolded. “How did you—how did you know?”

“You think I won’t find out that you’re snowball?” You took a step closer, glancing at the items on the box. A basketball keychain and a frame of photo taken five years ago, the two of you side by side with a shy smile on both your faces. It was something he never thought would receive from his pen pal, even in his wildest dream.

“You think I won’t recognize you?”

Jungkook stutters. “What do you—”

“I know everything.” You cut him right away, face still expressionless. “I know it. You are snowball, I know you bribed Jimin into arranging, I know you are hiding by talking to me anonymously with snowball as an identity—everything. I know it’s you who I’m talking to these past seven weeks.”

A good five minutes passed before Jungkook could even let out a sound, let alone a coherent statement.

“Are you… angry at me?”

“Yes.” You respond, not even missing a hint of hesitation in your tone. The physical pain is even more evident now. “I hate you. I hate you for fabricating lies about us. When I found out for the first time that it was you, I was furious. I felt played, like an idiot. I told you, I hate when someone lies to me. Do you remember?”

“I know.”

Another minutes spent staring each other, then you sigh in tiredness. “But more than anything, I missed you.” You continue, your tone falters as your eyes are far away, the sudden weakness stirs something inside his chest. “I miss you like crazy, and I took it. I took the lies, if it means I can talk to you again. Like an idiot, I didn’t think straight.”

Jungkook stares at you, waiting for you to continue. “I know I decided not to wait for you, but it was foolish. Waiting for you—that’s not an option I could make. And no matter how much I decided I need to stop thinking about you, I can’t. I am an idiot, who—”

At once, Jungkook is now hugging you close, not even a breath between the two of you. The feelings are familiar, yet so strange since the butterflies are knocking your stomach with nerves now. Jungkook is here. He is finally here, hugging you close. It’s literally the dream you’ve been having for a while now.

“I came back.”

You hum.

“For you. For the promise I made us.”

You hum.

“I am sorry. For everything. I shouldn’t have lied. I shouldn’t have bribed Jimin.”

You hum.

Jungkook lets you go, anxious at the possibility of you lying and suppress all your feelings just for the sake of him. “Can you say something? Anything. Please be mad at me, or anything, because you have the rights to. But please don’t be silent, I beg you.”

“I love you.”

Those three words are most absolutely not the word he is expecting. He confusedly searches your eyes. “If you said I can say anything, I want to say that for the first time. I love you, Jungkook.”

Jungkook stares at you, still in disbelief of the possibility of his hearing deceiving him. “What?”

“I love you. And I want to fight for us.” You whisper, squeezing his palm against yours. “ I am sorry too. I let my emotion and fear take over, and I hurt you. I am in this just like you are, so don’t blame yourself alone, hmm?”

“I love you too.” Jungkook responds, as he pulls you close by the nape, crashing his lips on yours and taking your breath away. “I love you more than anything. I love you more than anyone. I am sorry, I am very sorry.”

You hold him closer by the waist, minutes passed just to feel how warm he is against you, the familiar scent seeps inside your brain that disoriented your whole being. As he lightly bites your lower lips and instinctively forces a moan out of you, you shivers. Jungkook swiftly takes the chance to push through and leaves a beautiful taste on your tongue. Your fingers run through his hair, feeling the soft hair falls between your fingers. Giving it a light tug, you are more than satisfied to find Jungkook is just as affected as you by the way he bemoans.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Jungkook creakily whispers, not even hiding the lust and desire lacing his tone and not even a second thought is spent, you nod. You are desperate to have him again like the way it was before, to leave nothing between the two of you, to feel him close and beg for him to take you again, pleasuring you like no one could.

“By the way, you look beautiful tonight.” He smiles, squeezing your waist with his palm. “You always do, but maybe the fact that I haven’t seen you for seven weeks, now that you are wearing this beautiful dress—It’s just.. breathtaking.”

You roll your eyes, but are unable to suppress the beam on your lips. “You better keep that mindset, okay? Don’t you fucking dare say I look better naked later.”

Jungkook grins at that. “You know what? You just get me.”

“You know, I need to tell you this, but… I actually threatened Jimin to confirm that you are indeed snowball. And I have to say that it wasn’t pretty, and I wasn’t proud of it. We haven’t really been talking with each other after that..”

“What?!” Jungkook literally shouts, the imagination of you threatening Jimin with a knife forms on his head. No wonder he looks like a ghost after seeing him attend the event. “What did you do to the poor guy?!”

“Well, I may or may not… have caught him getting a blowjob from his teammate in the office one time.. And yup, you know the rest.” You wince, and hold out your palm together. “I swear, I have no intention to let anyone know, it was just a self defense method—”

“You just told me, you know.”

You pout, tugging on his blazer. “But you’re my Jungkook! It’s different.”

Jungkook sighs, but it’s foolish to lie that the possession terms you used before his name literally sends him into a blushing mess. He is unable to resist to steal a kiss from you once again. The moment your lips touching, you are left speechless—and wanting more that you still chase for his lips even after he pulls himself. You frown, folding your arms in indignation that you caught him grinning after. “Looks like someone is missing me too much, huh?”

“I hate you.” You obnoxiously spit.

“No, you love me.”

“Yes, but I’m starting to regret it now.”

Jungkook giggles, caressing the side of your pouty face. God, how is it possible to be luring and cute at the same time? Being with you is all kinds of emotions lured into one, and it left him wanting for more and more.

“I feel like I didn’t say this enough, but I love you, Y/N. I really, really do.” Jungkook whispers, as his finger pushes strands of hair to behind your ear, and you give him a smile which brightens his whole world. The moment he looks at you like this, he know he is sold. You’re his only sole chance, nothing and no one else.

“We’ll fight for each other, right?” Jungkook whispers and you stare at him back with a smile, and unlike before, this time you reply with a determined nod. One thing you know is that you’ll do anything to make the best out of each other—you’ll finally fight for what you feel instead of following your fear. Because you love Jungkook, and he feels the same way.

Oh, how he would trade everything to have this moment last forever...

===========================

I should have write this better lol was too distracted with life and kim soo hyun that its 🅱razy. I wish I have will to edit this too, tho

If you wonder if there’s an epilogue, there is! kindly follow me and slide into my ask box! stay safe, all! 💜💌

UPDATE : Find the Epilogue HERE !

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hes-writer · 4 years

Text

Under the Table

Summary: harry eats y/n out under the table

Warnings: smut, public sex, oral, female receiving

Word Count: 2744 words

A/N: my submission to the 'sex bucket list fic challenge' hosted by @berrynarrybanana !! so many wonderful writers have participated in this and their works are out of this world ✨

___

Y/N had never been to this restaurant. The fanciness and seemingly high-end decorations should be enough explanation as to why. She stared at Harry in complete adoration as he touched the small of her back, gently pushing her forward to follow the waiter. They walked near the back of the restaurant. The waiter unlocked a door, gesturing for them to enter.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes to get your order,’ He placed the menus on the mahogany table. The round furniture draped with black cloth, accentuating the starch white plates and crystal silverware. A bottle of wine stood to the right, candles lit in the middle of the table. They nodded at his statement.

“Gosh, H. This must be so expensive,” She glanced around the room in amazement, dazzling lights reflecting in her irises. He pulled her chair out for her like a proper gentleman. She smiled in appreciation.

“Only the best for my girl,” He planted a kiss to her temple, settling himself on his seat. Harry tried his best to focus on reading the description of each dish but Y/N was more interesting. Her hair curtained as she faced down to read the menu. She bit her lip in thought, her stomach growling in anticipation.

“Think ‘m gonna get the steak with mash,” She stated, folding the menu closed. Harry immediately glanced down to pretend like he wasn’t just staring at her beauty, imagining dirty thoughts. Her thighs parted around his head. Her juices dripping past her clenching hole, looking for something thick and big to fill her.

“I’ll get the same but with a side of peas,"

“Copy cat,” She teased, filling her glass with white wine. The stain of her lipstick on the rim made him absolutely mad.

___

“What’s gotten into you? Aren’t you hungry?” Y/N asked, slicing her steak, popping a bite in her mouth. She moaned at the taste, releasing a satisfied moan and even letting her eyes roll a little. “It’s so good,”

Harry dug his blunt fingernails on his outer thighs to prevent himself from gripping her hair and fucking her into oblivion. She had no clue of her effect on him. Y/N raised a brow at him, utensils paused to wait for his answer. He glanced at his plate, clearly untouched except for the small spoonfuls he scooped of his peas. “I am,”

“Why aren’t you eating then?” She questioned, easing another forkful in her mouth.

“‘M hungry for somethin’ else,” He drawled out, suggestiveness dripping from his tongue. His lustful gaze eyeing the pucker of her lips.

She widened her eyes, freezing at his statement. “We’re in public!”

He shrugged, gesturing to the private room he had booked for them that surely was about to be handy. “And? Y’can’t tell me you don't want my head between your thighs,” He leaned back against his seat, one arm resting on the opaque table cloth draped over the table. “That you don’t want my tongue licking your cunt,” He bit his lip, watching her take a sip of her wine nervously.

“Stop it, Harry,” The waver of her voice indicated to Harry that she was being affected. Her thighs squeezing tightly for the slightest bit of friction against her core. She tucked a strand of hair, shifting uncomfortably at the growing wetness. The fabric of her satin red dress suddenly feeling too heavy on her skin. Warmth crawling up her legs despite the shortness of her dress. Despite the exposure of her cleavage from the deep cut, she couldn’t help but feel completely naked under Harry’s scrutiny.

“Don’t you?”

She heaved a deep breath, stabbing her steak in frustration for letting his words affect her so much. “No, I don’t.” She gritted her teeth, hating the way his dimple deepened with the curve of his lips upward.

“That’s a lie,” He pushed his elbows forward, making her instinctively rest her back against the seat in intimidation. “I know you’re squeezin’ your thighs right now. Wanting to feel something touch your pussy. Bet you’re wet, soaking your panties,” His tongue darted out to lick his lips, glistening his mouth and making it almost impossible not to kiss him. “Want me to go on?”

Her utensils clanged against the plate. A shot of arousal flooding her body. If she focused, she was sure that she could feel the moisture on the apex of her thighs. She wondered if it would be a good idea to tell Harry that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath her scarlet dress.

“I-I,” She stuttered, “I’m not wearing anything underneath,” Her whisper was attentive as if there was an ear pressed up against the door.

“Jesus, fuck,” He seethed through his teeth, rolling his head back at the thought of her dripping on the chair. The stain of her slickness flooding between her thighs. It was enough to make his mouth water, “You’re making it hard not to drop on my knees right now,”

As much as she wanted his lips around her clit, tongue prodding between her slit; Y/N knew that this wasn’t the place to do it. She failed to stay quiet when his mouth attached to her core. He was way too good at eating her pussy. Feverishly mouthing her wet skin into his mouth as if he hadn’t eaten in days. Groaning in pleasure like seeing her eyes closed in pure bliss was bringing him satisfaction. “Don’t,’

He tilted his head, saying in a mocking tone, “No?”

She shook her head, watching as he disappeared under the cloth, “What the hell is he doing?” Y/N mumbled to herself. The opaque table cloth prevented her from seeing him. Harry crawled underneath the table, the light from the room seeping through the cloth, allowing him a great view of Y/N’s shaking legs, bouncing up and down.

“H-Harry,” His warm palms pushed her legs apart, her scent engulfing his senses. She gripped the corners of the table, keeping her eyes glued on the door directly facing her. “Nghh,” She moaned, extremely turned on, throwing caution in the wind.

He pushed her dress up, bunching the silky fabric on the tops of her thighs. Y/N was grateful that the table cloth was long. Harry pulled on her hips, asking her to move closer to the edge of the chair. He spread her thighs further, creating a little nook for himself between her legs. He nipped at the plush skin, making Y/N straighten her back.

“Oh my god,” She whispered. Mixed feelings swirled in her; the rush of being eaten out under the table in a private yet public place spiking her arousal. He gripped her calf, placing her legs over his shoulder for a better position. She tried to appear as normal as possible; not like her boyfriend was about to grace her with his talented tongue. He fisted the fabric of her dress to get it out of the way, balancing her as he traced the tip of his tongue against her slit.

“No fuckin’ panties. Tryna kill me, I swear it,” Harry growled lowly. Y/N sucked her lips into her mouth, eyeing the hinge of the door. A knock sounded from outside, the waiter probably checking in on them. He lifted the table cloth to meet her frantic eyes, “Try to stay quiet for me, yeah?”

The door opened less than a second later. The waiter entering with a tray of wine for a replacement of their empty one. “Hello there, where’s your date?“ A friendly smile directed to her.

Y/N nodded in response, a tight-lipped smile was returned, “In the bathroom,” She inconspicuously reached down to tug on Harry’s hair, warning him to not do anything. Of course, he didn’t listen.

“I’ve brought our finest selection of wine,” The waiter’s gloved hands gestured at the bottles, proceeding to explain each wine’s flavour and history. Y/N tried her best to appear present despite Harry’s warm tongue flattening to lick her deeper. Languid licks stroking her wetness from her fluttering hole to her sensitive clit, depositing the wetness under the hood. His plump lips puckering around her nub. He sucked softly, trilling his tongue.

“Which one would you like?”

Y/N’s lulled eyes snapped open, “The second one,” The waiter nodded, turning his back to uncork the bottle open. Y/N took the distraction to wet her dry lips, Harry peeking a slit from the cloth to stare at her throat bobbing as she stared at the ceiling. He smirked at the sight, dropping it to get back to work. His fingers dug on the skin of her ass planted on the chair. Heavy breathing filtering through his nose and hitting her mound as he stretched his lips to fit her whole pussy in his mouth. Y/N couldn’t help but release a whimper at the sensation.

“What was that?” The waiter turned around pouring the wine in hers and Harry’s empty glass. Harry bit her thigh as a warning to stay fucking quiet.

“Just...can’t wait to taste it,”

“Is there anything else you need?”

Y/N shook head immediately, “No, you can leave now,” Barely holding on to the moan she wanted to release. The door closed shut, exhaling a sigh of relief. “Holy shit, Har,”

“Great job, baby. I can’t wait to taste it too,” Harry tightened his wet muscle, firming the tip and using it to outline circles around her entrance. He traced the rim of her opening, gathering all the sweet juices that he had yet to savour, humming low in his throat as he swallowed it down. Groaning heavily against her core, his nose pressing into her clit in added stimulation. She wanted to scream. Her throat ached to yell out his name instead of being forced to experience this much pleasure without an outlet. Y/N wanted to see his face but she was too fucked out to reach over and hold the cloth. The mystery of not knowing his next actions heightening her anticipation, clenching her stomach with the unknown sensations. She balled her hands into a fist, slamming them against the table that had Harry chuckling

He curled his tongue inside of her, feeling each groove of her core, slicing each wall with an intimate stroke of his tongue. He dropped his legs from his shoulders. She just about shrieked when Y/N felt his middle and ring finger prodding her tight hole, petting her slit as he kissed around her body. She felt frustrated at him for taking away his tongue. She felt absolutely insane and out of control when his fingers plunged into nudge at her swollen g-spot, tapping his tongue rapidly against her button, “You’re so good to me,” She sighed, allowing her body to slouch, her thighs shaking with his abuse. She was sure that the waiter won’t be entering for a while.

“Taste so good for me,” He muttered in response, moaning at the way a clear, thick liquid attached to his bottom lip. He swiped his tongue to break the string, savouring her taste. His fingers curled up, jolting her hips along with the wave of pleasure he was providing her. Silent whimpers littered her mouth, desperate pleas of his name escaping her lips in breathy gasps. Her hand grabbed the back of his head, encouraging him to continue his actions.

Harry made out with her pussy--a full lip-smacking, tongue grazing session with his fingers toying inside of her. He pulled his fingers out of her. She hissed in response, mumbling quiet begs.

“What was that?” He asked arrogantly, instructing her to hold the cloth so that they could see each other. “Want somethin’ from me? Tell me what,”

Sweat dripped on her chest, slipping under her dress. Her eyes clenched shut as she tried to collect her heaving pants into a calm breath, “I want your tongue on me and your fingers,”

“You want my tongue, honey?”

She whined at the nickname, pushing her hips up to feel something. Anything. She was so desperate to cum that she nearly forgot where they were. Her half-eaten dinner was cold from being untouched. The meal was probably in the hundredths yet the only thing she cared about was coming undone.

“Yes, please,”

He granted her wish to stick his tongue further in her pussy until a pull at the back of his throat prevented him. He explored her center with ominous hunger, cheeks wet with spit and arousal. He pressed his face closer, a newfound determination to make her cum right under his nose. Strong strokes of his tongue planing up her nerves almost to the point of pleasurable pain. The harshness of his licks splitting her pussy around his tongue. His mouth pulled her clit, harshly sucking at the nub until it popped from his mouth. Leaning into taking it into his mouth again, humming low in his throat to push her further over the edge. Watching the engorged bundle of nerves redden with his deep sucks and trilling licks. He shook his head, dipping the tip of his tongue into her core, letting his movement prod her walls.

“C’mon, puppy. Cum for me,”

She sobbed feeling the electricity sparking. The coiling spring in her stomach tightening to the point that she could feel the heat radiating from her body. The chilling in her spine buzzed with each flick of his muscle stroking her up and down. Tiny pricks of pins and needles flickered her bum, the rough movements of her hips rubbing her ass against the coarse seat. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, white noise filling her ears. She hadn’t had the sound mind to muffle noises with her palm, leaving every cry she had to release in the open air. Luckily, Harry snaked his arm to cover her mouth just as she heaved a tortured sob. His palm getting wet with tears that exuded from her strained eyes from the force of her orgasm exploding from her center to the rest of her body.

Her fingers twitched with the need to ground herself. Toes curled in her high heels while Harry continued to prolong her orgasm with slick rubs to her clit. His fingers spreading to squeeze the nerve in between, catching the nub at its most heightened sensitivity until she had to push him away, using the tip of her heel to nudge at his torso.

Harry slipped out from under the table, knees cracking from being bent for too long. He stretched his arms over his head. He used his napkin to wipe his dripping fingers, sipping his wine while Y/N panted tiredly.

“You’re insane. I can’t believe you did that,”

He rolled his eyes, “I can’t believe you almost got us caught,” He inspected the questionable stains on his maroon velvet suit, clicking his tongue as if to say ‘oh well’.

“You’re the one who kept going!” Y/N defended, crossing her arms over her chest. She stood up on shaky legs to give him a hug, burying her face in his chest. “Next time, it’s going to be you,”

Harry pushed her back by her shoulders, “Me? What do you mean?” Y/N swatted his chest in annoyance. As if he didn’t know what she meant.

She glazed her eyes over with innocence, a pout on her lips, “I dunno. Might just duck under the table and lick your cock. Maybe even suck the tip. You know how much I love your taste,”

He tensed in her arms, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, “You wouldn’t,” He chuckled in denial, knowing full well that she wasn’t the type to do something as dirty as that.

“No?” She mirrored Harry’s words from earlier, tilting her head to the side. “But I wanna watch you squirm in front of everyone. Wanna feel your big cock deep in my throat and they’d have no idea that you’re letting your little girl suck you off under the table,”

The hardness in his pants nudged her lower stomach, forming a discernible bulge in his black trousers. He was not only a narcissist. Harry wasn’t one to shy away from exploring his sex life with Y/N, wanting to do anything and everything with her. Uncomfortable blurts of precum soaking his boxers at the thought of having to act as if he wasn’t quite literally getting his dick sucked by Y/N’s heavenly mouth.

He can’t wait for their next date.

____

do y’all wanna see what happens on their next date 👀

____

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#harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles drabble #the buckelist fic challenge

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shedobewritingalittle · 3 years

Text

Bath Time

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Reader

Summary: The Mandalorian watches as the reader gives his foundling a bath (set post Chapter 12).

Word Count: 1.7k

Rating: R

Warnings: slight breeding kink?, mentions of anatomical parts, hint at masturbation

The Mandalorian wished he didn’t enjoy watching her do things like this.

Y/N was carefully giving the little green being a bath in an small metal oblong shaped tub that was purchased for this exact reason. Mando was supposed to be cleaning and polishing his various weapons, but he kept stealing glances at her. There was a smile stretched across his partner's face as the Child splashed around the bubble-filled bath water. His movements were causing Y/N's shirt to become soaked and while Mando would have scolded his foundling before if got to that point, she didn't mind it in the slightest.

When the Child puked up the cookies he had been eating, Y/N became very concerned. As soon as the Crest had evened out, she took the kid into her arms and disappeared down into the hull. When he climbed down under the guise of cleaning his weapons, she almost immediately held her hand out and asked for his cape. Y/N was already scrubbing the turquoise stain out of the Child’s robes. He wanted to tell her that the little stain from cleaning his foundling’s mouth was nothing compared to what else was on his cape, but he knew better then to argue with his companion. The Mandalorian immediately unclipped his cape, having it over. With the Child strapped to her chest, she started to scrub at his cape, the water quickly becoming murky. The scene in front of the Mandalorian is incredibly mundane, but for some reason he finds himself trying to discreetly hide the fact that he is enjoying watching this.

He’s fucked and he knows it completely.

The cape and the Child’s clothes were hanging up to dry in the back of the hull. In all honesty, the Mandalorian probably wouldn’t have cleaned up his foundling as quickly as she did. While he was concerned about the green child’s well-being, she took it to a whole other level. Y/N kept asking the Child if he was feeling well or telling him this is the reason why he isn’t allowed to only eat sweets. Every time the Child made a noise, her eyes would look down to him and her voice would be filled with concern as she asked the green little baby if he was feeling okay. Every time Y/N asked, the Mandalorian would pause what he was doing to look up at the two of them.

"You know the whole point of the bath is to keep the water inside of the tub, kid." Y/N teases as she carefully washes his big ears. There's just something about her being so motherly that the Mandalorian just has to stop what he is doing to watch. She must've tickled the kid with the washcloth, because he erupts into a fit of giggles, which then causes Y/N to laugh. The whole scene makes the Mandalorian feel warm all over.

"Aren't you being awfully sweet today? Maybe being so dirty made you cranky." Y/N continues her one sided conversation as she rinses the soap off carefully. Mando feels like he shouldn't be watching this, but he can't help it. His hands are still moving, cleaning the same blaster he has been cleaning for twenty minutes. He hopes she doesn't notice, but the Mandalorian knows that Y/N won't. She's completely focused on the child.

"Alright, we should get you out of the water before you catch a chill." Y/N grabs a towel before lifting the green child out of the water, carefully wrapping it around him. Mando can hear her humming an unrecognizable song softly as she swaddles his foundling, looking at him almost lovingly. The scene in front of him makes the bounty hunter swallow hard. He cannot understand why Y/N taking care of the Child is affecting him this much-no, that's a lie. The Mandalorian knows why, but he rather not go down that route. He's trying to keep the relationship between him and Y/N professional. Maker, is he trying-

"Mando? Mando, are you listening to me?" Her voice yanks him out of his thoughts and the Mandalorian is incredibly glad she can't see the blush that's most likely on his face. He makes a grunting noise in response-something that he'd use to respond to anyone else. Y/N shakes her head, trying not to smile. The Mandalorian hopes that his companion cannot see the semi that he’s currently sporting.

"I was saying that I'm going to take the kid and feed him in cockpit so you can eat and clean up." She informs the bounty hunter, the bundled Child resting on her hip. That's another thing that's making this whole situation even more difficult: Y/N taking care of Mando himself. When he had hired her on, she was tasked with looking after the foundling and taking care of the ship. Yet for some reason, Y/N also likes to make sure her employer is doing okay. Every time she shows him even the slightest bit of kindness, the Mandalorian suddenly turns into a teenager, his knees getting weak and his stomach twisting and turning. He forced himself to quickly recover.

"You don't have to." He tries to argue, but he knows it's futile. Y/N is already walking over to where the meal rations are stored, grabbing the kid's plate and utensils. She hardly takes no for answer and he really doesn’t want to fight her. The Mandalorian loves it when she takes care of him, when she shows that she cares for him too, but he’d never say it outright.

"I know, but you smell as good as the kid did before his bath." She teases him, full on grinning now as she walks to the ladder. Y/N fucking teases him and Maker, the Mandalorian wants more of it. He's forcing himself not to smile underneath his beskar as she holds the child close to her chest, somehow managing to climb up the ladder. The bounty hunter would love to pretend that he doesn’t sneak a look at her ass as she climbs up ladder, but of course he does, which then causes his flight suit to get even tighter. Maker, pull yourself together.

The Mandalorian waits until she's seated in the pilot's seat before he lets out a sigh, his feet carrying him to the meal rations. He wishes that he could just chalk her kindness as naivety, but it's not that. Y/N only acts this way around the Mandalorian and his foundling. Hell, the bounty hunter has watched her bring a man twice his size down to the ground just because the creature was looking at Y/N funny. That very same woman will walk around the Crest, making repairs with the small green child strapped to her chest, telling the kid a story. Both actions had the Mandalorian thinking about his partner in a way that was far from being appropriate.

Yet, there was just something about watching her taking care of his foundling made the Mandalorian want to grab Y/N and fill her belly with his child. The bounty hunter never had such archaic thoughts before he hired Y/N to watch the Child, but they always pop up whenever she’s around. Once again, the Mandalorian tries to readjust himself, telling himself that he’ll take care of his problem in the ‘fresher.

As the bounty hunter took off his helmet in order to eat, he forced this thoughts far far away from his female companion. The Mandalorian tried to make himself think about what the ship needed or what supplies he had to pick up on their next outing, but somehow his thoughts kept finding their way back to Y/N.

Y/N is humming again when the Mandalorian climbs up the ladder into the cockpit an hour later, his stomach full and just out of the ‘fresher. She's sitting in the pilot's chair-his chair as she holds his foundling. The bounty hunter tries to ignore that as he takes a few more steps, trying to keep his thoughts clean. The Child is fast asleep in her arms. It's like the Galaxy itself is mocking him.

"He likes you, you know." The Mandalorian says quietly, his eyes on sleeping child on her chest. The kid adores her, almost to the point where Mando thinks his own foundling favors Y/N over him, but in all honesty the Mandalorian can't blame the child. It’s extremely hard not to like her. Y/N chuckles softly, the stars streaking across the sky was illuminating both her and the Child.

"I'd hope so. I like him too." Y/N replies, her eyes on Mando as she smiles. There's something about the way she says it makes his heart beat a little faster in his chest. He hates this feeling, hates the way she's making him feel. No-he doesn’t hate it. It’s just different. It’s something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager.

"Thank you-for letting me..." His words trail off. The Mandalorian isn't a man of many words and his companion knows that. Y/N nods, her smile still stretched across her face.

"Someone has to remind you to take care of yourself, Mando." Y/N tells him, her voice soft. Her hand is resting on his foundling's back, holding him to her chest. The Mandalorian's head is full of images of Y/N holding another child to her chest, cradling a different baby while he holds the kid. Mando swallows hard, forcing those images away. He turns his head towards the Galaxy, but he can still feel Y/N's eyes lingering in him for a few seconds before she too turns her head. Out of the corner of the visor, the Mandalorian watches as she looks down at the sleeping child, one of her fingers smoothing the white hairs on top of the kid’s head.

"You should go get some rest. I'm more than comfortable up here with him." She announces, leaning back further into the chair. Once again, it's not really a suggestion and once again, the Mandalorian finds himself trying not to smile under his helmet.

#the mandalorian x r #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin #star wars

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ubemango · 3 years

Text

delicacies of the season (m)

part 3: days apart

note: hey!! What’s up!! first, I officially have named this series!! it’s right up there for ur viewing glory! ok anyway here’s something before I disappear for the next four weeks because I am drowning in school!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also just a side thingie for this story: I’ve already established that oc isn’t on birth control but here I’m implying that they’re doing natural planning (i.e. fertility awareness where the person who menstruates keeps up with their cycle and thus only has sex when their cycles allows for it). PLEASE DO NOT DO THIS UNLESS YOU KNOW THE RISKS!!!!!!!! Oh Lord putting your impregnation chances up to God?! I couldn’t do it. But also this is fanfiction and nothing bad will happen to this couple so let’s all just... suspend disbelief for a second ok

PAIRING. taehyung/reader GENRE. romance, farmer au RATED. M WORD COUNT. 2.5k WARNINGS. kitchen sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, a good ol’ creampie bc wot is the ubemango experience without one :/ SUMMARY. Taehyung missed you.

Auntie Gaeul comes over when the rooster crows to tell you to check out the passion fruits today. They’re ripe not because she’s seen them but because she just knows. Call it the Elder Instinct for Ripened Foods. You tell her you’ll give her half the harvest, and she swats at you before she leaves.

“Stop being so polite, I’m not that old,” she spits in jest. “And make some of that honey iced tea your grandma makes. If there’s extra, then I’ll have some.”

Taehyung would probably like some, too; he chugs down anything with passion fruit like he’s about to go into hibernation. And when you come back home from the fields with a basket-full perched heavy on your back, you resolve to make some tea right away to bring over to his house to see if he’s there. You haven’t seen him in five days—his cousin had the stomach flu, and his aunt needed the extra help with tending to the livestock. Being the eldest nephew (and the only one who can drive a motorcycle) had him obligated right from the get-go.

“Grandma! Can you show me where you put the honey jars, I can’t remember where they are. And can you help me peel these—um. You’re not Grandma,” you stop.

Taehyung looks up from where he’s perched on the stairs of your awning, flicking bits of strawberries to the ground for Danbi to eat. Your little puppy scrounges it up so fast she nearly falls over on her fluffy bum.

“I told her to go play bingo with the rest of the granny crew, someone’s betting chicken feet,” he says. You smile wide when he trods over to you for a short kiss, slipping the strap of the basket off your shoulder to put on his. The hand he keeps low on your back is as warm as the ten AM sun. “Hi. I missed you.”

“I was just gonna go see if you were home,” you say. He smells like the wind. Something you’d scrunch your nose at but he makes it work. “When d’you come back? How’s Daeshim now?”

“An hour ago. And he’s better. He ate up all your ice cream, only thing he could keep down.”

You frown. “Poor baby.”

“I know. You gonna clean these now?” He nods his head toward the water basin, carved rock he’d installed for you on your third anniversary.

“Yeah. Can you start? I’ll just wash up quick,” you offer. Suddenly you’re aware you’ve got an ugly shirt with oil stains and holes in random places—nothing Taehyung minds, but the occasion probably deserves better.

“Got it, boss,” Taehyung says. He slaps your ass before you run to the bathroom. A familiar signal of his intentions but he’s too polite to bring it up so quickly.

“Hey!”

“Hurry up,” he calls. As if you’re going to take another five days to get back to him but you get it. You missed him, too; a little more than you’d like to let on. Your grandma is great company but she watches her TV too loud and she hates when you’re not there to sit with her because she might need your help switching channels. It’s a miracle you didn’t jump Taehyung the second your eyes landed on him.

You change into whatever shirt you’ve tossed on the floor that looks semi-presentable. It’s too early for your sweat to reek like it does under the afternoon heat, but you spritz some perfume on your neck anyway. Just for upkeep, because you’d be lying if you said you weren’t anticipating sex, a sloppy makeout session at the least. Danbi’s too hyper to be left alone, plus your grandma likes making surprise visits at your house because she’s a forgetful woman.

By the time you’ve come back from scrubbing the dirt and dead ant bits caked under your nails, Taehyung’s a third of the way through the basket, tossing the clean passion fruit into a bucket Danbi is trying so hard to climb into. She yelps when her fat paws slip at the edges.

“Danbi! Mama’s gonna be mad if you get hurt. I’ll give you some later.”

“Go play with your toy,” you call out to her. “Danbi! Go!”

Her ears perk up at your command, and she pants and pants till she decides to go in the complete opposite direction of the ball and into the patch where all the potatoes are. She hasn’t hit her teething phase so you’re safe from her snuffing anything out with her mouth. It’s her fur you worry about. She’s such a nice shade of white amongst the semi-wet dirt, it almost hurts seeing her get soiled.

“Like a little cotton ball,” Taehyung says. He points to the bucket. “This good?”

You nod—it’s enough to have extra for Auntie Gaeul. “Yeah. Wanna carry it to the kitchen like a good man?”

“As if I’m not one already,” he snorts, grabbing the handle. “Danbi, come!”

This is how it always goes. Taehyung ogles from over your shoulder (usually he’s off to the side but he’s a lot clingier, not that you mind) while you do your business because you don’t trust him with a knife. Not since the time you’d tasked him with chopping garlic and he’d nearly sliced his palm open when he tried crushing them first.

And now you’ve got a new addition to the routine: Danbi sniffs around the dried leaves for the fire, sneezing when she breathes the ash in too hard. You hear her collar jiggle as she explores the earthenware stacked on the side. You made sure Taehyung left the door open because she gets antsy fast.

“Can I just say that I have a thing for seeing you use a knife,” Taehyung says, hands stroking your tummy because he’s got nothing better to do.

“You’re really bad at hiding how turned on you are.”

“Who said I was trying to hide?”

You laugh. “What are you trying to get at, mister?”

“I’m saying I missed you,” he says simply.

“So that’s why you kicked Grandma out the house,” you tease. Taehyung splutters in your ear.

“No! They really are betting chicken feet. What do you think I am?”

“Horny.”

“Ugh.”

You turn your focus back to the chopping board. Taehyung lets the sound of the knife smooth down the goop of the insides fill the space.

“...Are you mad if I am?” He whispers tentatively.

“Oh my god. It’s ten in the morning.”

“You think my dick cares?”

“You think I care?” you joke.

Taehyung gasps. Like his heart just shattered from your vitriol, but all you want is to finish cutting up these damn fruits before you’ll allow his hands to touch you. “Wow. You—? Okay, fine.”

“Wha—”

“I appreciate your hard work,” he coos. He wraps himself around you even tighter, traces a slow kiss on your neck. “Really. But don’t pretend you didn’t miss me too.”

“I never said I didn’t.”

“You’ve got a fucking mouth on you.”

And that gets you to shut up. Taehyung only swears when he wants you to stop talking. Not for the sake of real anger but to show you he’s got something brewing, and you’re here to take whatever it is he’s about to give you.

“I just wanted to be a good fiance and visit the one I love the most after five days because I missed them so much.”

His teeth catch the lobe of your ear. Biting down softly because he’s still aware you’ve got the knife in your hand, but you’ve lost all motor skills the second he started his little bit. You drop the handle slowly. At the last second you push all the shit you’ve laid out on the counter to the farthest corner. Something tells you this space is being defiled this morning.

“Good. Are you wet?”

“N-No.”

“Then we’ll have to do something about that, huh.”

You watch his hands glide up, and you’re half-expecting him to fondle you gently, the way he teases you when you think he’s taking it slow. But instead he goes right for the kill: using those long fingers to pinch right at your tits just to get you to gasp into the feeling. You roll your eyes shut, let your head fall back on his shoulder.

“You like that?”

“Mhm,” you whine.

“Take your shirt off for me.”

You’ve never exposed yourself to kitchen utensils and rice wine on the pantry shelves before but Taehyung makes you want it. He shows his appreciation for your compliance with another hard grope of his hands, this time with his mouth sucking on your neck too. Craving your skin like he’s been absolutely deprived. The calluses on his fingertips rub your nipples raw.

“You smell good,” he croons. “Come here.”

You nearly tip over from how fast he spins you around, but he catches you easy, tongue on yours in the next second. The desperate tug of his lips on yours, the smack of your spit when he pulls you in deeper, all the intricacies of needing someone else to save your own sanity—it culminates here, and now your ass is up on the cold of the counter, Taehyung pulling back from one last kiss to drag that same heat down your body.

“Please let me eat you out here, holy shit.” He tugs at your pants, slides your underwear down with it. Mouthing hungry at your mound because you haven’t answered him yet, so you just groan a quick please, yes and he doesn’t even look at you before he presses his tongue inside you.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, the guilt of ruining this space with your (embarrassingly) uncontrolled libido is raging. But you could care less with the way Taehyung swipes his tongue around your clit, gets you clawing at his hair for brief respite. You’ve most definitely exceeded wet boundaries. His chin practically shines.

And he knows it’s because of him. Not just from his mouth but the knowledge that he wants you trembling towards a heady orgasm, the kind that consumes you whole. His laving gets bolder with every stroke, every moan you try to keep stifled but it’s useless. “Taehyung. Oh my g-od, fuck—no d-don’t use your fingers, I’ll come.”

He laughs, adjusts your thighs so you’re not cramping. “Think you’ll tap out?”

“I wanna come on your dick,” you pants.

“Oh my god,” he groans. “You’re perfect. Oh my god. I’m so fucking hard. Can I come inside you?”

“Yes yes yes yes, just get inside me already.”

Taehyung’s foot gets caught on his pants when he shoves them off, nearly crashing face first into your pussy again. And he laughs and you snort and when he’s naked waist-down he kisses you again, a little slower this time, a breather for just a moment.

“I know it’s only been five days but I missed you. A lot.”

You trap his hips with locked ankles on his back. “I know.”

“It’s just—I had to shovel so much horse shit—”

“Oh don’t say that!” You bat at his chest.

Taehyung snickers. “Sorry. Ahh, I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“You can stick your dick inside me and we can go from there,” you suggest.

“I like the way you think, missus.”

It’s almost laughable when he sinks right in. No resistance, just the slick of your arousal and his spit, an unholy mixture for this thick sacrilege. Taehyung’s eyes stay locked on the sight.

“Fuck yeah. Oh baby…”

If it’s got him uttering curses this early in the round then you’re definitely worse off. You’ve got one profanity for every inch he’s claimed inside you, all lined up behind your teeth but you don’t have the brain capacity to get them out. He fucks you straight to incoherence.

Your delirium keeps you mum. Taehyung will make up for it. He slots his hand up the back of your thighs, hits deeper when you arch through the pleasure. “Holy fuck that’s so good,” you whine. “Taehyung—oh god.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just pants hard with every moan you’ll give him, and you watch the sweat glow on his collarbone, the thick of his neck. Places you claim with your mouth when you lean forward because it’s too hard to keep balance without his gravity.

Taehyung breaks when you bite. “Sh-it. Oh fuck you’re so hot. ‘M not gonna last, shit.”

“You’ll fuck me when you come?” you plead, hold his gaze. He’s just as gone as you are. “You’ll fuck your cum inside me?”

“Yeah baby. I’ll give it to you. So fuckin’ good.”

He never lets up. Just keeps that steady fucking, stiff with every drive into your slick till he adjusts your knees with one push. Pussy open to the angle that gets you begging for his thumb on your clit because it’s right there. You fall back on your hands, no steady grip because Taehyung’s faltering too.

“Oh—!” You flutter your eyes shut to pending ecstasy. “Tae—please—harder—right there right there don’t stop!”

“You gonna come for me?”

It’s a rhetorical question. You know he sees the way your chest collapses, the rub of your clit in quick gestures for your high. He’s got you right in his hand.

“Fuck—ohhh yes!”

“Ugh,” he whines. It’s nearly lost to the ringing in your ears, the clench of your pussy from his pounding. You cream him so good when the orgasm’s strong enough, pulsing hot, the rough intensity. And that’s not lost on him when he cries: “God your pussy’s so wet. Holy shit.”

Usually you’re spent by the time your vision’s cleared to the sight of Taehyung fucking you through it. But he’s promised you something, and you’re greedy for it.

“Come inside me,” you urge, guiding a hand through his hair, pulling hard at his nape. He keeps his eyes on his dick priming you for those final strokes.

“I’ll fucking come,” he snaps. “You ready? I’ll come so good for you baby. Come so fucking—good—!”

He stiffens with a shout, grinds his teeth, lets his orgasm splash inside with so much heat you mewl. And he keeps minimal movement, thrust for soft thrust because it’s too much with the squeezing you tease him with.

“I.” Taehyung clears his throat, panting to a stop. “I… wow.”

Your ass is rubbed raw against the counter. But you’ll risk it again to see the glint in his eye when he pulls out and watches his cum drip down your hole, onto the floor for you to clean when your legs aren’t jelly.

“Wow,” you repeat.

“Do… Am I… Am I ovulating?” He looks genuinely confused. “I don’t… I’ve never been that horny before.”

You snort. “Five days felt like forever, huh.”

Taehyung kisses you slow. “If it means we get to fuck like that again then I’m going to the city for a month.”

“Hey!” You pinch his arm, using his bicep to stand up, tiptoeing around the mess on the floor. “God. Help me clean up here, please. And where’s the dog?”

(Danbi sleeps peacefully in the wicker basket, head lolled on one of the passion fruits. You make sure to bring her over to Auntie Gaeul’s for extra snacks.)

#bts smut #taehyung smut #v smut #bts scenarios #taehyung scenarios #v scenarios #ubemango fic #f: farmer!tae series #f: delicacies of the season

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no-droids · 4 years

Text

The Sun on Both Sides

Summary: Cassian Andor is your very close companion. He says best friend, you say pain in your ass—neither one of you are entirely wrong. But then one night you smoke some unfamiliar spice with him, and everything you once thought you knew goes sideways.

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Cassian Andor/fem!Reader

Word Count: 11.2K

Warnings: SMUT, sex pollen (therefore DUB-CON by default), recreational drug use, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, dirty talk, oral sex (both male and female receiving), penetrative sex, me just making so much shit up honestly

A/N: All phrases in Festan are taken from other Star Wars conlangs. I don’t even know if that’s the name of the language people from Fest speak tbh. Probably not. None of this is real. Anyways this is Cassian as a young rebel pilot long before the events of Rogue One. This oneshot will likely be deemed obsolete by Cassian’s new Disney+ show but whoooooooops~

—knock knock knock knock knock—

You know that knock. It’s too quick, too rapid and annoying to be anyone else.

“I’m sleeping,” you huff with your mouth full, sitting on top of your mattress in a hoodie and sweatpants, legs crossed.

“I have gifts,” Cassian’s muffled voice asserts from the other side of the door.

“I don’t care,” you return, swallowing and shoveling more slop together with your tiny little biodegradable spork. “S’the middle of the night.”

—knock knock knock knock knock—

“Stop it.”

“Knock knock,” he beckons vocally, as if you didn’t hear it the first ten times. “Come, open the door. Please—I will get into trouble.”

It’s exhausting being Cassian’s friend. Truly exhausting. It doesn’t matter what Maker-forsaken time it is, as soon as he comes back to base from patrols, he’s at your door. You don’t know why he chose you as his sole victim to personally inflict this torture upon, but regardless of reason, he’s called you his close friend ever since you first offered to help the lanky, dark-haired six year old with his Basic and his best friend ever since your junior year of flight training. Apparently with the promotion came the lingering, severe misfortune of his present company, almost always.

“Can I put in for a transfer?” He also technically outranks you.

“Open the door and we will talk,” Cassian bargains. Bantha shit, you and him both know it. He’ll rip the papers in half before you can even finish filling them out.

You let out a dramatic groan just loud enough for him to hear, dragging yourself off the bed and padding over to the door. “If I accept your gift, will you leave?”

“Maybe.” No.

“If I accept your gift and trade it for the rest of this, uh,” you look at the MRE packet in your hands, “rice and shredded tauntaun meat in glockaw sauce, will you leave?”

“Maybe.” No.

“Good call, not as great as it sounds. What if I—”

He says your name impatiently, accented and sharp. You roll your eyes as his knuckles rap on the door once more. “Quickly, quickly—before someone sees.”

“It’s the residential quarters and it’s two in the fucking morning, Cass, nobody’s going t—”

He cuts you off once more. “Open the door and I will submit for your transfer work, yes?”

You throw your spork prong-down into the beige pouch in your hands and pop your hip, narrowing your eyebrows at the thick slab of metal separating the two of you skeptically. “No, you won’t.”

“No, I will not,” the voice behind it concedes immediately. “But for you, I will pretend.”

As soon as you the door slides open and disappears up into the ceiling with a quiet shhhft sound, his dark silhouette quickly slips past you and sneaks into your room, immediately bouncing his bony little butt down on top of your sizable but thin box-spring mattress without a word. You press the button to close the door behind him with a long, drawn out sigh, turning around and resting your back against the wall panel.

Cassian meets your tired, expectant gaze head-on and wide awake, perched on your bed and huddled around something hidden in his thick jacket. “First. You cannot tell anyone. Understand?”

You raise an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. “Are we children, Cass?”

“Secondly.” He blinks up at you. Maker, his eyes are so… wide. Dark and warm and bright, framed with thick, long lashes. “If you do not want it, just say. Okay?”

Your expression suddenly narrows. This is new. It’s… still bantha shit, but it’s… new. New bantha shit.

“Because the word ‘no’ holds so much meaning for you,” you tilt your head to gesture at the door to your right, “clearly.”

“Come. Sit here,” he ignores you, patting the space next to him as if that isn’t your own fucking bed he’s inviting you to join him on. “We will look together.”

“I will literally murder you,” you tell him genuinely, though you push off the wall to move toward him all the same. “If that’s not a cute little mini-lothcat in your arms you got me for my birthday, Andor, I will literally murder you.”

“Today is your birthday?” He glances up at you in surprise just as you’re lowering yourself down onto the mattress next to him.

“Two weeks ago, but you were off-base.” You dig around inside the pouch for your handy little spork, not looking at him. “Quit avoiding the subject, my death threat still stands. Where’s my cat, asshole? Who do I have to tolerate in my bed this late at night to push that kind of paperwor—oof—”

The second you catch the hard little end piece of it between your fingers is the second he reaches around you and pulls you into a tight, one-armed hug. You fumble with the packet of food as you’re abruptly jerked forward, trying not to let it get squished it between you.

Stars, he smells good. His parka smells just like him, the fur lining its hood so warm and fluffy and soft as it tickles your nose. It’s still slightly damp from the wet sleet outside, but it smells so good. The smallest undercurrent of clove and spice hidden beneath the sharp, clean scent of fresh snow.

“Happy Year-Over, caraya,” Cassian says next to your ear, quiet and fond. “I know it is late, but I have your gift now.”

“‘Caraya’ better be Festan for ‘here’s your cute little lothcat, birthday girl’,” you warn him, moving to rest your chin on top of his padded shoulder and trying not to sound as breathless or affected by his sweet talking as you feel. He’s never called you that before. Caraya. What does it mean?

It’s… it’s bantha shit, you remind yourself, trying not to close your eyes or lean into his half-embrace. It’s all bantha shit.

“No,” Cassian acknowledges with a small head tilt, pulling his shoulder back but still keeping his long arm wrapped tight around you. “No. Not a… a cat, but…” He slowly opens his other hand between the two of you, finally showing you.

You blink down at the thing in his palm, cradled carefully in thick gloves from the sub-zero temperatures outside. It’s. No, he’s right, it’s not a cat. It’s a… a stick. Reddish-pink, ground up plant matter wrapped in a semi-transparent binding. Rolled up in a nice, even cylinder, a filter secured around one of its ends.

Spice. Hand-rolled. Expensive. Probably swiped off a supply raid, whether by Cassian himself or another rebel fighter he bought it off of. Ludicrous he got his hands on it, much less brought it on base. Here, to your fucking quarters.

“I was wrong,” you eventually say, taking the joint from his open palm and holding it up to examine its strange color in the dim light. “You don’t think we’re children. You think we’re teenagers.”

“I think we are adults,” he corrects, swiping the MRE from your other hand, “with a reason to celebrate.” He releases you and takes his arm back, sitting on your bed and digging two fingers around in your half-finished packet for your spork.

“You’re a bold pilot, Cass,” you tell him, studying the spice. You’ve never seen any strain even similar to this before. “It was one thing to do this during flight training, but now? What happens if we have a piss test tomorrow? Or, well—today, actually?”

“Different kind from before.” He doesn’t sound bothered by the thought, though his mouth is currently full of tauntaun and rice in glockaw sauce. “Only five hours high, not detectable after. Piss tests are expensive, the rebellion has no money.”

“X-wings are expensive, too,” you counter, turning to look at him. “You crash one of ‘em ‘cause you smoked this shit and your ass will be dead before you can even survive.”

“You hurt me.” He uses the utensil to dig around the bottom corners of the packet for more slop, not looking hurt in the least. “Also—you were right. This one is… horrible.”

“Not to mention I have a oh-nine-hundred call.” You both watch each other with matching looks of distaste as he continues to eat your food, clearly neither one of you enjoying it. “You’re giving me barely two hours to come down before I got orange jumpsuits crawling all over me.”

“You did not hear?” Cassian swallows. “Reassigned Dreis during debriefing. I will be leading red squadron tomorrow. Or, today.”

You blink at him. “You’re kidding.”

“No,” he shakes his head exactly once, throwing the spork into the empty packet and flattening it. “No, I would not do that to you.”

“Course not,” you agree diplomatically. “You’d just barge into my room at two in the morning, eat my food, offer me drugs, and then tell me I’ll be taking orders from you tomorrow.”

”Today,” he corrects. “But I could not get our call changed, and for that I am sorry.” He lifts an eyebrow at you, quirking the side of his mouth up and pushing the empty MRE pouch into your hands to throw away. “But only for that. Happy birthday?”

“We’re going to lose this war,” you tell him honestly, sliding off your mattress with a sigh to trash it. “We’re all going to die horribly, and painfully. The Rebellion is fucking doomed. You and I will be but a mere footnote in the Empire’s endless reign of terror, you realize. A footnote. Our names at the very, very bottom of the page, in tiny little six point font, and it’ll link to a one sentence obituary for the both of us. Died horribly and in pain. Did you bring a lighter?”

“Here,” Cassian shifts to one buttcheek and pulls an arc lighter from his back pocket, offering it to you when you come back. “Okay? You will start it then? Birthday girl.”

“You said five hours for one person, right? So that’s two and a half each if we split it,” you reason with a shrug, putting the filter to your lips and talking through the side of your mouth. “Two o’clock right now, nine-hundred call. At least four hours to come down, and thirty minutes to shower if we’re both lucky.”

“We will be fine.” He waves your careful calculations away with his hand as you flick the lighter. “Because we are lucky feetnotes, yes?”

***

You’re not fine.

It’s fucking boiling in here. Maker, you’re on fucking Hoth; why the fuck are you boiling? It’s never even been warm in your quarters before, much less this hot. You feel like you’re sweating buckets through your hoodie, your hair sticking to your neck in thin little curls.

And… and Cassian.

He’s sitting so unbelievably straight on the bed across from you, parka and gloves long abandoned on the floor. His dark eyes flick over to you occasionally, though it looks like he’s trying really hard not to move a single muscle other than that. His hands are clamped tightly between his thighs and he just… holds there. A compact, rigid statue perched upright on the mattress, looking far too still and tense to fit the comfort of his surroundings.

“Are you okay?” You ask him, blinking at how hoarse your voice comes out sounding. Holy fuck, your mouth feels like a desert.

Cassian stares at you, and for some reason, his large, expressive eyes seem even wider now. They’re glassy and a bit red, but also so big and lovely and framed with long, dark lashes.

“This is not.” His accent sounds thicker, words coming out deeper in his throat. It settles down inside you just right and you feel a spark of heat at the base of your spine. He blinks twice. “This is not how it usually feels.”

“Should we stop?” You look down at the half-finished joint in your hand, tilting your head thoughtfully as you consider the drug pulsing through your veins. “It’s… it’s different, but I think it feels good.”

“Yes—I…” He closes his eyes. “Th-that is the problem, I think.”

He shifts a bit on the mattress and bites down on his bottom lip, and you must look so fucking dumb as you stare at him with your jaw slack, watching his lithe body stretch and handle the spice. He’s fucking gorgeous. Stars, you always thought he was gorgeous, but this is something else. He flutters his eyes open to look at you through his lashes, and—

—oh. Oh. You see now. You see what he meant. Warmth pools deep down in your tummy as he looks at you with impossibly dark eyes, slowly drags his glassy gaze down your body. Fuck, you’re getting turned on. You go red and blink softly at him while he stares at you, trying to control your breathing.

“You need to—” your voice jumps, trying to remember the right cadence. How do you speak to him normally? “You can… take—take my pillow, if you want. Lay down. You’re too tall, your eyes are too big. Look like a… like a Kaminoan. Heal any—heal any clones recently?”

Bad joke. Maker, he’s so beautiful. Rich, dark features taking you in, blinking slowly at you and clearly not hearing a single word you said.

You shift your weight and throw him the cushion you’re partially sitting on without waiting for an answer. You both need to calm the fuck down. Hopefully the pillow will help. Even if it’s squished and warm from your butt. “It’s warm ‘cause I was sitting on it, m’sorry. Fuck, it’s warm in here. Do you think it’s warm in here?”

It’s like he still doesn’t hear you. Cassian just takes your flattened pillow in his lap and looks at it for way too long, slowly rubs the fabric on the corner between his fingers and examines it, like if he tries hard enough he’ll be able to see through it.

“Cass,” you eventually call his name in reminder. “Lay down, put that under your head—”

“Do you feel turned on?” He asks quite suddenly, whipping his head to the side to look at you. You almost drop the spice.

“No,” you say immediately, acting on impulse alone and trying to rearrange your face into something… something negative. Something just generally negative, because you can’t even think of a negative emotion specific enough with the way your heart is pounding at the thought of something like this actually happening right now. Holy fuck, you’re sweating. What the fuck is in this shit? “No, of course not.”

“Of course not,” he nods, turning back to look at your pillow. “Me too. Not.” He shakes his head. “Neither. Either?”

“Lay down,” you tell him once more, desperately needing something else to do now, something to distract yourself from the way your lower muscles are starting to cramp up with heat and arousal. “I’ll get us some water. We need water.”

You’re off the bed and setting the smoldering spice on the small metal counter without another word, grabbing two empty cups and beginning to fill them up in the tiny little sink with your back to him.

Stars, he was right. It’s not supposed to feel like this. It feels… it feels like everything is burning inside you, but such a good burn. Like your mind is being seduced by your own body right now instead of the other way around, and the paradoxical sensation is manifesting itself in an unprecedentedly strong urge to jump your best friend’s bones. The urge has always been there, granted, but it’s never been this shameless before. Never arced and pulsed so brilliantly in your veins before, never been steadily fed by such a tempting outside source. Not the drugs—but him. The tangible fuck-me vibes Cassian is radiating towards you right now, staring at your back with those big, gorgeous brown eyes of his, silent and unmoving behind you as he watches you from your bed. He’s never done anything to encourage your desire for him like this before. He’s never wanted anything more than just platonic companionship and playful banter in the midst of war zones from you, and yet you can feel the heat burning from him too, feel it start to intensify your own high.

It’s bantha shit, you have to realize. This whole Maker-forsaken situation—it’s forced; none of it’s real. Cassian is your best friend, and he’s only looking at you like this because spice is chemically altering his hormones right now. You can feel it doing the same to you, just steadily stirring deep in your floor muscles and amplifying your baser desires, but you need to snap yourself the fuck out of it and be the levelheaded one here. Despite the arousal burning hot in your tummy, at least you know your thoughts are still fundamentally sound—in contrast, you have no fucking clue what’s going on in that hard head of his right now. At least one of you needs to buck up, handle your drugs, and be the adult before things get out of hand. If it falls to you, then so be it.

You focus on your breathing and do as much as you can to mentally will the tingling sensation down deep. Taking a second to put a comfortable expression on, you finally turn around and start walking back to him.

When you raise your head and make eye contact with Cassian again though, the look in his eyes almost immediately threatens to undo everything you just decided. Fuck, he looks like he just had an internal pep talk of his own, but in the entirely wrong direction you went. He’s a bit more relaxed now, same as you, but his gaze is now searing hot on your body, tangible enough to stop you dead in your tracks in front of him. It burns through you, and you literally feel the sweat drip down your back as a shiver rolls down your spine.

No. Hold strong. Maker, irresponsibility has always been appealing but never so fucking seductive as this is, has it? Taking such a gorgeous fucking form. You take a few more steps forward, quickly trying to gather composure.

“Should we stop?” You ask him once more and stars, you were aiming for calmer and gentler and with more lung support—not this breathless scrape of a sound that feels like sandpaper in your throat. He hasn’t said a fucking word and your resolve is already wavering. You try not to make eye contact as you carefully hand him one of the cups. “We’re only twenty minutes in, barely halfway through it. We can stop and coast, it’s not a big deal.”

Cassian takes the water from your outstretched hand, letting the tips of his fingers brush lightly across yours in the process. Your heart skips in your chest. “Do you want to stop?”

You absolutely should fucking stop. Just standing here and handing him water without ripping your clothes off is a challenge; you’ve still got half a joint left and you’re not even sure you’ve reached the come-up yet. What if this is just the beginning? What if this is just laying the foundation? What happens when you actually peak on this shit?

“It’s not a big deal,” you repeat instead, keeping your answer as ambiguous as possible and taking a sip of the blessedly cold liquid. At least the water is responding correctly to the frigid environment on this horrible fucking planet. You feel ready to burn up. “Just wanna make sure you’re cool.”

Cassian flicks his eyes over to the joint still cherried and smoking on the metal counter behind you. “We can keep going.”

Your breathing picks up slightly. Does he know what he’s really asking right now? He has to have figured out what that spice does by now, right? But no, he’s so steadfast in the way he looks at you, blinking up at you confidently. Fuck, you should stop. You should stop.

You should… compromise?

“If we keep going, no more of this,” you tell him, gesturing to the way he still hasn’t moved or drank any of the water in his cup. “You need to. Chill out, alright. Act normal.”

Fuck, you’re normally so blunt and outspoken with him, so why is it that everything happening here is so fucking unsaid? Everything is transpiring right below the surface, a conversation taking place within another conversation. You’re telling him to cut the heart eyes, lay back on the bed and spend some rare quality time with his best friend. Regardless of the weird side effects, this spice is still giving you an incredibly strong body high. If he could just stop looking at you like that so you can stop rhythmically clenching and pulsing between your legs, you’d probably be incredibly relaxed right now.

“I will lay down,” he finally agrees, breaking eye contact with you and grabbing the pillow from his lap so he can throw it down next to him. “Go, get the rest of it.”

“Drink.” You stay rooted to your spot.

He gulps down the entire cup of water right in front of you, and something about how sassy and exaggerated it is makes you unwind just a bit and head back for the spice.

This is better, you think. Butting heads with your strong personalities is better than whatever mind games you two were playing before, more familiar and grounding. Cassian sets down his empty cup on the floor as you pick up the joint, and then you sit on the edge of the mattress across from him when you come back.

“So how were patrols?” You ask him, taking another hit of it and studying the strange color it burns as you hold the smoke in your lungs, almost a light pink.

“Not bad,” he says, scooting back to lay lengthwise across the back of the bed. His long legs stick off the end but he looks way more comfortable now, settling back into the pillow and watching you with a calmer, more easy-going look in his eyes.

“Where’d you get sent this time?” You have to lean forward quite a bit to hand him the spice.

“The Lothal Sector,” Cassian responds casually, taking it from you.

“Oh, fuck off,” you snap, already unamused before he’s even started to mess with you. “I will shoot down red leader tomorrow, Cass, don’t you dare fucking test m—”

“A local was trying to sell kittens to the pilots,” he goes on, completely ignoring you and relaxing back down into the mattress with the joint between his fingers. “They were very cute. But then I tell him no, because I did not know of anyone who could care for one.”

“That’s not fucking funny.” Cassian smiles slowly at you as you glare back at him very, very sternly. “This is a no lothcat joking zone, I’m sensitive about this.”

He keeps smiling even as he takes his hit, gentle and fond and lovely on his face, but his eyes eventually go softer and a bit melancholy on the exhale.

“I am sorry I missed your birthday, caraya,” he says to you truthfully, something sincere and tender in the way he looks at you. “But I will get you something better than a cat.”

“What does that mean?” You lean forward and grab the spice from him when he holds it out for you.

“No idea,” he admits during the careful exchange. “Maybe something with less claws and teeth, I think.”

“No,” you shake your head, settling back on your butt once more. “Caraya. What does that mean?”

Cassian quickly opens his mouth to reply, but then pauses and takes a second. As if he’s debating on what exactly he wants to tell you. You inhale from the spice held between your fingers and wait patiently for him. Probably something to do with birthdays, right? Since he only started calling you that after you told him he missed yours.

You end up waiting for his answer so long, you actually feel like you should take another hit. But when Cassian does eventually speak, it’s incredibly calculated and slow, like he’s actively trying to find the correct words to translate its exact meaning into Basic.

“Fest is part of a binary star system,” he finally tells you, breaking the silence. “It is… it is what my people call the times when… when one of the stars sets while the other is rising on the opposite horizon.”

You pause with the joint halfway to your mouth, staring dumbly at him.

“It is rare. I have seen it only twice. Each time, for less than a minute. It is very rare for them to match up perfectly, but when they do.” His eyes go a bit softer, losing himself in his memories instead of concentrating so much on the words. “The sky shines with every color. Reds, yellows, and pinks to the west; blues, indigos, and violets to the east. It is… it is also… something we call the ones close to us,” he continues, blinking his gaze slowly back to you. “Caraya na cotâ vi zas iz’búsdari. To care and be cared for is to feel the sun on both sides.”

You… you just keep staring at him. Blank, unmoving, not really even breathing. Your chest suddenly feels incredibly tight. He looks back at you and stars, he looks so fucking gorgeous; long lashes dusting over his cheekbones at this angle, one hand resting lazily over his abdomen as he relaxes on your bed.

“It sounds…” You sound winded. “Lovely.”

“Yes,” Cassian returns softly, tilting his head on your pillow and blinking at you. “It is.”

You don’t know why the fuck you thought this would be okay, honestly. This whole thing was such a horrendous fucking idea right from the start. You’re surprised you haven’t set the both of you on fire by dropping the lit spice between your fingers. You were a fucking idiot to think you could resist him. You were overconfident, underestimating him the way you did. It’s like… like he’s approaching this in surges, almost. Lulling you into a false sense of security for a bit, and then carefully pushes forward, toeing the line between best friend and person he wants to fuck and seeing how much you’ll let him get away with.

You’re… you’re a weak, spineless little thing.

“Is it—is it your turn?” You eventually ask him, looking down at the joint in your hands. It’s barely above a whisper and it’s vaguely squeaky and it’s probably one of the dumbest fucking things you’ve ever asked in your life. Of course it’s his turn, who the fuck else’s turn would it be?

Cassian would normally rip into you for being such an idiot, but he doesn’t. He just blinks softly at you, pupils dilated and glassy as they take you in.

“Would you like to…” He sounds equally breathless now, swallowing thickly before he speaks again. “You can… come closer, if you want. Here. With me.” He pats his belly. “No more reaching.”

What is… what is happening right now? Is Cassian Andor actually, like—for real making a move on you? His best friend? The one he’s never looked twice at?

“You want me to…?” Your cunt clenches. Stars, you’re so wet already. You can feel it, dampening your underwear as his eyes flutter slightly at the rasp in your voice.

“Come,” he pats his stomach once more. “Lay down with me.”

You slowly begin to shuffle over to him on shaky knees, trying to move normally as he watches you. He stretches out across the back of the bed, giving you a perfect spot along his open torso to relax into. Your heart pounds as you carefully hand the spice to him before settling yourself on your back with your head on his tummy, making a little perpendicular t-shape with him on the mattress, vision slightly blurry but pulsing at the same time.

Maker, he smells so fucking good. He smells like fresh snow and something warm at the same time, so lean and long above you. You’re almost panting now, burning up in your thick layers as you try to get comfortable.

“Maker, it’s so fucking hot in here,” you whisper, using your sleeve to wipe the sweat gathering at your temples. “Fuck.”

“Take off your shirt,” Cassian suggests quietly, and your mouth instantly goes bone dry, your chest forgetting to rise again after it collapses with a quick whoosh of breath. “You have something on underneath, yes?” He adds quickly before you can completely ignite in flames. “Take off the top one.”

You… you have a thin undershirt on, but nothing underneath that. It’s nearing three in the morning, of course you don’t have a bra on right now. And the undershirt is white, and you’re sweating buckets, which means—

“It… it might show some…” You have no clue how to phrase this, but Cassian quickly responds.

“It is just me,” he reassures, carefully reaching his arm around your head to hold the joint up to your lips for you. You inhale the drug deeply, watching the pink light illuminate the tips of his fingers. “We are best friends, and this is your room. You should relax.”

Maker, this is… this is dangerous. He’s dangerous. He’s smart, choosing to go at it from this angle. He’s not toeing the line anymore, he’s just… blurring it until it doesn’t exist anymore. Or better yet, just walking over it and pretending it doesn’t exist at all. Pretending nothing at all is happening between you right now. Trying to see whether you’ll be more willing to give in if he comes at you from the side like this, not necessarily catching you off guard but refusing to outright confront you about it either.

Apparently precedent rules. You’re a weak, spineless little thing, especially when presented with such a compelling out. He’s… he’s totally right. You are best friends, this is your room, and you should relax. Nothing sexual about it at all, right? Furthermore, relaxing trumps overheating any fucking day of the week, so… so that’s why you tell yourself it’s okay to sit up and immediately reach behind your head, grabbing the hoodie and beginning to pull the thick fabric off.

Only, it’s damp and clings to your thin undershirt, dragging both of them up the length of your back as it goes. You stop when the lower hem pulls up just below your breasts, trying to reach back behind your head even further and separate the two materials but struggling with the angle.

“Cass,” you eventually prompt, trying not to flush. Not like he’d be able to tell, though; you’ve been unbearably warm and fidgety this entire time, your embarrassment conceals itself without your assistance. “You wanna help me? Or you just wanna keep watching?”

“Do not ask me such stupid questions,” he tells you plainly, unmoving. “What did I say? We are best friends. Of course I am not going to help you. You are…” he trails off when you lift your shoulders upright just a bit to see if the angle will work better that way. It does, but the fabric drags further up your ribcage from the shift, “…You are nice to watch.”

Your heart pounds, and you’re even clumsier knowing he’s staring at your exposed tummy right now. Maker, this should not be as difficult as it is. You swing your arms back around behind you, arching outwards and trying to separate them from the bottom this time, but gravity doesn’t appear to work in your favor.

Maybe you can do like, some sort of weird, half-and-half thing to get them apart? Maybe? Where you hold the undershirt from the bottom with one hand and pull the hoodie from the top with the other?

Yes, okay—that could possibly work. Cassian inhales more spice as he lazes behind you, getting a front row seat to watch this subsequent genius unfold.

You get into your monkey-like position, beginning to pry the two materials apart from behind like you planned. But then—oh, your undershirt still sticks to your hoodie at the front, pulling up a few inches with it and flashing the lower curve of your breasts to the room before you immediately halt and switch tactics, reaching back down and trying to pull them apart from the front withou—

A large, warm palm comes up to settle on your bare spine, right in the middle of your shoulder blades.

You freeze. But Cassian doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything more than that. He just holds his hand there, steady and solid against your upper back.

Neither one of you move. It’s like… it’s like you’re both trying so hard to get a read on each other that your reactions are equally stunted. Is he doing this to bring you to a still so he can help you? Is he simply as blazed as you are right now and not thinking about things before he does them? Is he—

But then Cassian starts slowly dragging his hand down your spine, carefully riding the gentle curve of it downwards as your breathing subtly picks up. Your arms are halfway caught in the fabric, not able to stop him unless you untangle them and reach behind you. So you just hold there statuesquely as his palm inches down the sweat-slick muscles of your lower back, thumb just barely brushing the hemline of your sweatpants.

Fuck, you feel like you’re about to vibrate out of your skin. Heat pools deep in your tummy, spidering outwards and sending pulsing shocks down your legs when he keeps his hand there for just a second.

Until… until he traces all the way back up and carefully hooks a finger around your undershirt.

Your heart pounds as Cassian gradually pulls it over the top of your head with your hoodie, guiding you to bring both of them around your arms. He pushes against your shoulder wordlessly, urging you to lie back down with your head on his stomach once more, the fabric stretched tight over your upper-body and the entire length of your spine now fully exposed as it touches the mattress.

“C-Cassian,” you breathe, fluttering your eyes up at the ceiling.

“Yes, caraya?” He murmurs, and you completely forget what you’re going to say when he continues to pull the hoodie and undershirt down over your arms, exposing your naked breasts to the open air.

Your cunt pulses between your legs and you hear him throw the thick bulk of fabric carelessly on the floor. “I—I-I don’t—”

“You will stay like this?” Cassian tells you softly, brushing your damp hair back from your shoulder so that your bare chest is completely unobstructed as it faces the ceiling. Your nipples are hard, a thin sheen of sweat covering your entire body, and you can feel his gaze drag down your naked skin, even if he doesn’t actually touch you. No, he just takes another slow drag from the spice in his hand and tilts his head back to rest on your pillow, relaxing into the mattress with a gentle shuffle of his shoulder blades. “If you are too warm, you will stay like this, okay? Be comfortable.”

Is it possible to die from arousal? Your clit is fucking pounding; everything from the waist down is unbearably tight and cramped. Stars, you feel like you’ll cum if you even move wrong right now. He told you to be comfortable, but you’re not—you’re boiling from the sensation, topless on your bed, trying not to close your eyes or squeeze your legs together. It’s too fucking casual and unacknowledged, how he’s going about this. You feel like you’re going to explode.

Cassian gently taps your bare shoulder to get your attention and shifts his head slightly to look down at you. You bite your bottom lip and flutter your gaze sideways to meet his after a second, hoping you don’t look as flushed and tight with burning arousal as you feel. Deep brown eyes look back at you, hazy and dilated. He takes a second to slowly drag his gaze down the length of your half-naked body once more, now that he knows you’re watching him. Your breath comes audibly now, quicker and shallower than it should be after laying flat on a bed for this long.

“Here,” Cassian prompts, holding the smoldering joint out for you to take. His voice sounds raspier now, but still so… casual. Like he’s out here talking about the weather with a mildly sore throat, not because your tits are out while you stare at each other and neither one of you is saying a damn thing about it. It’s like he’s determined to hold onto the splitting tension, drag it out between you as long as he can. “Want more?”

You know what he’s really asking, and it cramps your lower muscles up even harder. He’s asking if you want more of this spice that’s currently getting you naked in front of him. More of this madness, twisting up your insides with need and jumbling your thoughts. More of him treating you like this, like there’s not a damn thing out of place in the universe right now, like you’re still just best friends so that’s why it’s okay you’re both doing this together.

Stars, do you want more? Do you want him to keep winding you up like this? More of this torture, this agonizing foreplay, wondering when he’ll finally give in and touch you? Pretending like this is still completely platonic, like what’s happening here isn’t wildly unprecedented, insanely inappropriate, and so fucking hot?

You can feel your eyebrows pull up in the middle as you look at him, almost pleading with him to… something. To stop, maybe? Stop altogether, or just stop… fuck, stop ignoring the way your cunt feels clamped around itself tighter than a vice between your legs? Stop neglecting your burning desire for him, even when it’s right in front of his face. Stop refusing to acknowledge the way you’re just letting him look at you right now, how you haven’t once stopped playing along with this fever dream just in case you aren’t imagining it? Fuck, but Cassian just looks back at you, his expression completely blank except for the smallest little glimmer in his eyes. A silent, heated glint as he just barely quirks an eyebrow at you.

So you make the decision all at once. You carefully reach over for the spice with your far hand, feeling your breasts shift towards him slightly with the slow movement. Cassian doesn’t even feel like he’s breathing as you gently take it from him. He just stares down at your naked chest and swallows thickly, eyelids dipping slightly as he moves to meet you halfway.

You let your nipple brush up against his knuckles just slightly with the exchange.

When you face back towards the ceiling again and readjust your shoulders flat on the bed, he lets out a slow, shaky breath under your head as it rests on his tummy. The tension rockets up to eleven, weighing heavy and unspoken and ready to snap.

But then like that, the moment passes—it’s just another invisible spark igniting between the two of you, just another thing buried beneath the silence and yet ringing so unbelievably loud because of it. You’re both emitting and absorbing the same buzzing energy, amplifying it back to one another in a slow, endless feedback loop of rising pressure.

The spice comes up to your lips, and Cassian’s fingertips carefully trail along your other arm as it rests by your side.

“This is better, no?” He asks you quietly, the rough tips of his fingers just barely gliding across your skin in small, mindless patterns. They dance down your skin like feathers, tracing a small arch over the ridge of your elbow so lightly you almost feel like you might be imagining it. Your eyes flutter when he gradually skims down the length of your forearm and brushes his thumb in a smooth circle around the bone in your wrist. “Or you are still too warm?”

You bite your bottom lip when one of his fingers carefully stretches all the way up to your hip, running along the hem of your sweatpants.

“Yeah, m’still a little—” you gasp, trying not to stutter when Cassian starts to draw up the length of your waistline, pausing right when his fingers reach your drawstrings. “Little w-warm,” you finish hoarsely, painfully aware of how fucking wet you are, how your nipples are peaked and glistening with sweat as they move with your soft, shallow breathing.

He slowly dips one finger below the elastic wrapping across your hips, dragging it back and forth under the damp waistband.

“This fabric is heavy,” Cassian remarks, just the slightest husk in his voice. “You… you will take this off, too?”

“I-I don’t—” You’re about to say have anything on underneath except you immediately go quiet, because he’s suddenly slithering his entire hand down into your sweatpants and brushing his knuckles along the gentle slope of you.

He pauses once more when his longest finger reaches the very top of your slit.

But then he just holds it there for a second, tracing small arches back and forth along gentle give of it, the slight dip that separates your soft curls from your soaking heat. You tighten up and wait in breathless anticipation for it, before the tip of Cassian’s finger finally comes to a rest over the soft split of flesh.

And then he’s suddenly pushing in, and down—

—fuckfuckfuckfuck—don’tcumdon’tcum—don’t—

You make a soft, vulnerable sound in bliss as he slowly slides his finger through the hot, slick cleft of your pussy.

“You are warm down here, too,” Cassian murmurs quietly. Your eyes roll back when he drags the entire length of it up against your clit, letting you feel each individual ridge and joint and crevice across the swollen bit of flesh. “Is it the spice?” He asks, sinking his finger back down into you once more. “Or are you always this wet between your legs?”

Neither. Both, maybe? Mostly it’s just him. Cassian, whispering softly to you through the hazy darkness, lazily dipping his fingers into your cunt and letting it drench and engulf his skin in its heat.

“Tell me,” he prompts when you don’t say a word. His finger pulls up and begins tracing slow, gentle circles around your clit.

“No,” you breathe haggardly, arching your hips up just slightly as he touches you. “N-No, this is…”

“This is different,” Cassian confirms when you don’t finish your sentence. He keeps circling your clit, and it’s like he’s just casually, carelessly stirring a pot that’s about to boil over and set everything on fucking fire. You pulse threateningly under the tip of his finger, swollen and tight and just trying your best to control your breathing. “So it is the spice. Why you are this hot, this… this soaking.”

“It’s…” Don’t you say it. Don’t you fucking say it. Don’t you turn this into something it isn’t. “Yeah. It’s—it’s the sp-spice.”

His finger follows the hard curve of you down to where you give, where you’re leaking wetness and heat from the source, before he’s suddenly shifting his wrist and pushing the entire thing into you down to his knuckle.

Now you do arch your hips, spreading your legs and helping him go deeper even as Cassian hums, stretching his finger and feeling you clench hot and tight around him. He says something softly, something in a language you don’t understand.

And then he’s pulling out and rubbing circles around your clit again, the tip of his finger steady and firm as he steadily drags the pleasure out of you.

“We need to finish it soon,” he eventually reminds you, and it takes a remarkable delay for you to realize he’s talking about the lingering quarter of the joint still clenched tightly between your fingers. “Take your hit. We have a nine-hundred call, remember.”

Fuck, you bring the spice up to your lips with a shaky hand, trying to remember whether you should inhale or exhale first. Cassian’s finger just keeps circling your clit, winding you up tighter and tighter. His motions are so repetitive and predictable, but they’re somehow still lighting you on fire from the inside, slowing you down spectacularly as you try to take a steady breath in through the filter.

“Stars, you are so wet,” he remarks after a moment. “Are you going to cum soon? You feel like you are so close already.”

You are close. Everything is swollen and slippery and tight, and hearing him say it out loud like that makes the pleasure rocket up even tighter inside you. You don’t even feel him reach around with his other hand and take the spice from you. You just lose yourself in the mindless sensation of Cassian’s finger on your clit, rolling your eyes back and reaching your hands down to fisting the sheets at your sides as he touches you.

“Does this feel good, caraya?” He whispers quietly to you, inhaling deeply from the spice. “You are usually so… mouthy with me. Is this helping? Do I need to rub your clit like this more often?”

“Fuck—Cassian, I’m gonna cum,” you tell the ceiling raggedly, chest beginning to arch up and hips bearing down.

“Do it,” he murmurs, reaching his thumb through your slick lips to pinch and roll the pulsing bud between his fingers. “Right here. All you can.”

And then wild, painful bliss stabs through you, launching you headfirst into a blinding orgasm. A desperate sound tears from your throat as you cum hard all over your best friend’s hand, agonizing pleasure shredding mindless rapture through your veins. It rings white noise through your ears and rips you apart from the inside out, arcing lightning down your spine more bright and explosive than ever before. Fuck, it’s unprecedentedly powerful. You’re drenched but your clit is hard and pulsing and swollen, and he’s able to keep it between his fingers the entire time your hips writhe desperately on the mattress.

Cassian inhales from the spice once more and massages your clit through the torturous, blazing hot aftershocks. He drags the pleasure out of you until you’re a trembling mess, exhausted from the spasms wreaking havoc on your body.

But then… but then you’re still so hot. It’s like your limbs have no energy left but your cunt is still pulsing and wanting more from him. You feel your wetness coating his hand, your inner thighs, probably soaking through your sweatpants, but fuck, you want him to keep touching you like this—you want him to keep doing this.

It’s the spice, something tells you in the very back of your mind. It almost made you black out with a wild orgasm and now it’s quickly preparing your overheated body for another one. Your feet come up to brace against the mattress and your eyes close, jaw going slack as you grind feverishly against Cassian’s hand.

“Again?” He whispers to you, fingers continuing to pinch and roll your clit and then—and then another debilitating wave of euphoria is suddenly slamming through you, pulling your chest up and flooding his hand with another series of wet, powerful contractions. Cassian rasps something in his native tongue and rides you through the second one just as steady as the first, your pussy spasming uncontrollably as he slowly wrings the pleasure from you.

Fuck, it feels so good. You’re worked up and trembling and trying not to whimper for him, desperately wanting him to keep his hand right here forever, buried right between your legs like this. But you also—you also want Cassian to feel it too, feel the way the unrestrained hedonism practically burns you alive when you cum.

So you carefully turn over on your side and shuffle forwards a bit, resting your head on his lower stomach, right in front of the mouthwatering bulge in his trousers. His fingers can’t fully reach your cunt from this angle, but Cassian is resilient. He just drags his hand over your hip and slithers his fingers into your pussy from behind while you start unbuckling his pants with shaky fingers.

He’s unbelievably hard and throbbing and leaking when you pull his cock out of his underwear, the pulsing urgency of his erection not lining up with the way he’s still relaxing on your mattress, still hasn’t moved under you. So you just hold his length up to your lips and open them, slowly sliding your tongue around the tip of him three times before taking his curved head into the hot cavern of your mouth.

Cassian takes a deep, shaky breath as you suck softly on the head of his cock, fluttering your tongue along a bead of precum he leaks from the slit. He drags his fingers through your drenched pussy lips from behind as you carefully move your head down his tummy, opening your jaw wider and letting him fill your mouth deeper.

“Fuck,” he breathes, and you hum softly and lift your back palate slightly, sliding your tongue drift down his shaft and taking him a bit deeper still. He shudders under you and pushes the tip of his finger up against your clit.

And then you shudder because Cassian completely bypasses your hood at this angle, bumping into the swollen bit of flesh without any resistance or protection and just… holding it there. Barely moving an inch while you begin to slowly bob up and down just slightly around his cock, just keeping his fingertip right up against your clit and sparking heat down through your legs.

You move your hand down to cup his balls and start to roll your hips against his fingers. Cassian’s breathing stutters as you lazily suck his cock, rubbing a tight little circle on your clit in silent encouragement.

“We should—” his voice is hoarse now, now that you’ve got his dick in your mouth and you’re gently swirling your tongue around it, almost as unhurried and casual about the act as he was bringing you to your first orgasm. “We should do this. More.”

You slowly pull off him, kissing the tip of his cock and mouthing at the way he’s steadily releasing thick drops of precum for you. Cassian’s finger rolls firmly against your clit in response.

“You just want your dick sucked every time you come back to base,” you counter breathlessly, brushing your lips against him while talking with his cockhead resting on the edge of your tongue.

His hand shifts, and then he’s suddenly pushing two thick fingers deep inside you. You moan around his tip and prop one leg up on the mattress so he can fill you easier, going back to sucking and swiping your tongue over his frenulum.

“I would not mind it,” he admits with a shaky exhale. “You are. Very g-good. Fuck. And wa—” he gasps, feeling you clench tight around his fingers, “—warm. Fuck, every… everywhere.”

Fuck, it feels so good like this. Laying here, topless and being penetrated two different ways by Cassian, feeling him throb in your mouth while you rest your head on his tummy, feeling him stretch your cunt walls with his fingers while you hold your legs open for him.

You pull off him to drag your slick tongue over your palm, coating your fingers in saliva. Cassian groans when you wrap your hand around the thick base of him, and then he lifts his hips slightly as you start to slowly jerk him off into you mouth.

“Fuck—caraya, if you keep doing that, I will—” he whispers after a moment, curling his fingers inside you in warning. You just tighten your grip and add just the slightest twist to your wrist and “Wait—wait—” Cassian grunts, starting to pull his fingers out of you—

You pull off him just enough to murmur the words against his throbbing head. “You’ll want more than one, okay. Trust me. Cum like this, okay? Cum just like this, right in my mouth.”

You wrap your lips around his cock once more and keep jerking him off slow and tight into the heat of your mouth, and Cassian’s abdominal muscles go incredibly tense under your head. And then you squeeeeze your lower muscles around his fingers, and all the tension suddenly snaps.

His cock goes rock hard on your tongue and starts pulsing steadily as he groans out your name like it hurts, fingers stuffed deep in your cunt. You swallow around him and moan, clenching rhymically around his fingers and letting him slowly empty himself into your mouth. Fuck, he takes forever with it, shuddering and gasping and pumping cum down your throat, his orgasm clearly as powerful as yours was. The spice drags it out, makes you both lose yourself in the raw heaven of release for far longer than normal.

The spice also prevents him from softening when Cassian finally stops spurting hot cum in your mouth. You suspected as much—which is why you keep sucking his cock even as he stops throbbing, you keep him in your hot mouth even when he’s laying trembling and exhausted under you. And he still stays rock solid on your tongue, swollen and needing more.

Cassian’s voice sounds shredded when he finally speaks. “I—I am going to crash my x-wing tomorrow,” he tells you hoarsely, fingers finally slipping out of your channel with a vulgar, slick sound. “You were right.”

You pull off him and kiss the tip of his cock one final time, making sure you’ve cleaned up the mess completely. “Today.”

“Fuck. Today,” he acknowledges tightly, adjusting his hips when you lift your head off his stomach. “Fuck. In a few hours. You will make me crash, just thinking about this.”

“Why is it,” you turn around and blink at him, “that after literal decades of my friendship, you only acknowledge my perpetual rightness after I make you cum for the first time?”

Cassian just smiles softly at you, and his fingers are drenched as they rest lazily against your thigh. “Caraya. Two suns. Twice the illumination, no?”

You bite your lip and try not to smile back at him, wanting to blush and roll your eyes in equal parts. Stars, why is he so… so lovely? Speaking to you so sweetly, looking back up at you from your pillow like you’re every single color in his sky. Your heart seizes in your chest, staring at him with the same kind of fondness and admiration his beautiful eyes are shining with. Fuck, you want… you want to…

“Can we… can we have sex now?” You whisper. Not really shy, but… but it almost sounds shy in its quiet, breathless hope.

“You do not want me to taste you?” Cassian immediately asks, reaching out with one hand to offer you what’s left of the spice while the other stays firmly wedged between your legs. “I want to. I have…”

You bite down on your bottom lip and take the nearly finished joint from him, feeling his fingers curl against your pussy lips at the same time and knowing you’re going to regret letting him finish his sentence. He swallows thickly.

“I have thought about it,” Cassian eventually tells you, carefully admitting the words like he never expected he’d ever say them aloud and is completely unprepared. “Sometimes. Sometimes when… when I am about to sleep. I think of… of you. What you taste like. Right here.” He barely slips the tip of his finger back between your folds, fluttering his eyelashes at the way you’re still dripping in his hand. “I bet you are so sweet. Will you let me find out?”

Except. Except you’re suddenly blanking.

He’s… he’s thought about you before? Like this? Fuck, he isn’t just… just saying that, right? Just telling you what you want to hear? Because fuck, it’s almost too good to be true; like everything out of his mouth since you first put his cock in yours has somehow sounded even better than the last. You feel like you’re dreaming, and it. It makes you almost frantic with need, overcome with the desire to solidify your connection with him before it can be ripped away like it always is.

You don’t respond to him. You just quickly wiggle out of your sweatpants and get on top of him, swinging one of your legs around Cassian’s hips. The spice is held in one hand while the other reaches down and aligns his cock right up against your opening.

Cassian grabs your thighs tightly and takes a long, shuddery breath under you. Fuck, he really is a dream, isn’t he? Long and lithe and beautiful, still throbbing and pulsing and ready for you after you already swallowed his first load. You straighten your back and slowly sit down on his cock, letting the thick, hard length of it break you open slowly.

His hands trace up to your hips and then slide along the gentle curves of your sides, measuring the size of your ribcage before eventually grasping both of your tits in his palms. You breathe through the pleasure and the stretch, letting Cassian pinch and roll your nipples between his fingers as you gradually slide down him and come to a rest flush against his pelvis.

Fuck he feels spectacular. You can feel him pulsing inside of you, fitting and stretching the contours of your slick cunt perfectly. You shiver and clench around him, finishing off the last hit of spice as you roll your hips slightly to adjust to the tight fit of his cock.

You twist your shoulders to carefully toss the smoldering roach into the sink when it’s done, really taking your time with aiming it to make sure you don’t miss. The second it lands in the metal basin is the second Cassian grinds his hips up into yours while giving both of your nipples a gentle tug, and a jolt of pleasure rocks its way down your spine.

“Im-impatient,” you whisper, trying to scold him but it comes out sounding all wrong, far more needy and breathy than you wanted.

“I wanted my tongue in your pussy,” he whispers back in reminder, squeezing your tits as you start to circle and grind against him, letting you both enjoy the sensation of each other without any solid aim at the moment. “You could not wait.”

“Later,” you gasp, tipping your head back and just—fuck, just enjoying his cock. Enjoying how it feels, pressing up deliciously tight against something inside you that just absolutely loves the pressure. You scoot yourself back just a bit, just so he is really shoved up hard against that spot as you grind and roll your body. It ignites sparks deep in your floor muscles, makes you clamp tighter around him as you slowly ride your best friend’s cock.

And stars, Cassian just watches you. He drags his hands over your naked body as it swells and rocks back over his hips like waves in the ocean. He’s still completely clothed, and while something inside you wants you to get him as naked as your are, rub your exposed skin against his and make sure he never forgets how you feel against him, most of you is just fucking burning at the eroticism of being so bare and tall above him while he looks at you.

“Later,” he eventually repeats after you, definitively confirming what you said. Cassian’s voice is somehow soft and rough at the same time, quiet but tight and hoarse in his throat. “I will taste you later.”

You jerk a nod in agreement, starting to gain just a little bit of a rhythm on top of him. Your eyes flutter closed as you lean your weight back slightly and begin to pull up when your hips twist in towards him, and then sinking back down on his cock when your hips circle back around again.

“Fuck,” you hear Cassian grit as you keep doing that, relaxing your lower muscles as he’s thrusted into you and then clamping down on his length as it’s slowly dragged out. “Fuck, you are—a-amazing, caraya. You are. You are—fuck—”

A sinful heat starts simmering deep inside you as Cassian cuts himself off with a gasp and squeezes his eyes shut, starts rocking his pelvis up in time with your slow, sensual rotations. Both of his hands clamp down hard over your hips as they continue to undulate in slow circles around his cock.

“Maker,” you whisper, trying to focus on your rhythm instead of the terrifying, building sensation inside of you. Fuck, you can literally feel the threat of your orgasm start to carefully wind itself around the base of your spine, simmering and sparking with dark pleasure as it gradually spreads its electric claws outwards. It’s huge. You can already feel it gathering together inside you, culminating into something monstrous and fierce.

Cassian says your name, and you suddenly blink your eyes open at the unexpected urgency and tightness in his voice. Your vision takes a second to focus on his gorgeous face, and when you immediately see the same exact storm of swirling desperation in his eyes, your jaw goes slack as you speed up, trying to chase him as Cassian all but hurtles towards the blinding explosion nearing its detonation.

“Fuck, I—” he gasps, and then he’s suddenly going rigid under you and cumming deep in your slick heat with a desperate sound, shuddering and gasping for you as his thumbs dig into your thighs. Fuck, you grind harder, trying to find and focus on your favorite angle now as Cassian whimpers through the bliss and writhes under you, throbbing and pumping in steady, helpless jolts.

You whimper, too—fuck, you’re almost there, you’re gasping and trying to surrender to the swelling sensation, but it’s so intense and overwhelming and you’re close to tears because you’re fighting it just as much as you’re seeking it out, and—

And then the breath is suddenly knocked out of you when Cassian reaches up to grab you and flip the both of you over, your back coming down hard against the mattress. He kneels between your legs, hooks both of your calves over his shoulders, props his arms next to your head, and then he starts thrusting.

You sob brokenly, slapping an open palm against his chest. Fuck, his cock is still so hard and it shreds up achingly deep against that blinding spot so perfectly, you can’t focus on anything anymore. The dark, evasive build immediately twists up sharp and impending as Cassian fucks you steady and deep, and you start to muffle your cries and gasps into the back of your hand.

But then, oh—words are coming, too. Oh Maker, you can feel the urge to say them rise up along with the ferocious stirrings of your orgasm, clawing its way out of your throat before you can do anything to stop it.

“Fuck—” you tear your hand away to sob brokenly, not being able to stop yourself as the tsunami begins to peak, “oh, fuck—I love you. Oh, fuck, I—I love you, Cassian—I love you, I—IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou—”

His cock splinters up against sheer euphoria inside you as you cum with a desperate wail of his name, pussy clamping down hard as it erupts into searing hot ecstasy around him.

—and then suddenly Cassian is lurching against you and bringing his lips down to yours, licking into your mouth and cumming deep inside you once more. Maker, you nearly scream at the sensation, your tight cunt milking the throbbing length of him with endlessly wet, hot contractions as he grinds you both through the aching bliss. He kisses you like he’s wanted to do it for years, bites your bottom lip as you whimper and spasm wildly around him.

Fuck, you can hear the mess you’re both making. It’s obscene, filling the room with the slick sound of your desperate coupling. Cassian eventually pulls his mouth away to look down at where he’s rocking into your drenched cunt, the evidence of his own pleasure slicking up hard lines of his erection.

Your eyes roll back when he doesn’t stop thrusting.

***

You lose track of everything.

Time, direction, responsibility—nothing matters, because Cassian goes on like that. For hours, taking you apart every single way you can imagine. You fuck the effects of the spice out of your body until nothing exists but him—Cassian’s cock stretching you, his tongue gliding along your skin, his whispered words of broken praise murmured against your neck.

Strangely, your body feels absolutely amazing when you finally manage to gain the slightest bit of awareness of your obligations again. You feel like you’re floating above everything, almost dreamlike in how unbelievably satisfied you feel.

You slowly blink up at the ceiling, and then suddenly remember the nine-hundred call you have to make. You’re both naked, sprawled out on top of your mattress, and Cassian—

“Cass—” you rasp, pulling on the thick waves of hair tangled between your fingers and feeling his hot tongue slip out of your pussy. It’s still slightly dark in your room, but that could just be the horrendous weather blocking the sun. “What—what time is it? Did we miss—?”

“Almost eight,” Cassian rumbles low against your thigh. “We still have some time before we need to get up.”

You lurch into startled awareness, getting go of him to prop yourself you on your elbows. “But that’s—no, we have to shower, and—”

“A ten minute walk to the hangar from here, yes?” Cassian reasons, pressing a lazy kiss to your thigh and not sounding bothered in the slightest. “Twenty minutes to shower together, ten minutes to get dressed. We have at least ten more minutes before we need to think about getting up.”

You shudder and blink down at him, naked and relaxed as he mouths over your skin. Maker, how can everything change and yet still be so familiar at the same time?

“I think I might crash my x-wing today,” you finally breathe out, dropping your shoulders back down to the mattress once again.

“No,” he returns, turning his head to kiss your other thigh. “You will not. Because I checked my holopad earlier, and they sent the coordinates for red squadron’s patrols.”

You narrow your eyebrows at the ceiling. What does that have to do with anyth—?

And then you suddenly go shock-still under him, trying not to let the blind, overwhelming hope surge up inside you.

“Bring extra credits, caraya,” Cassian murmurs, lowering his head back down between your legs. “We are going to Lothal.”

#Cassian Andor x reader #Cassian Andor x you #Cassian Andor #Smut #fanfic #no-droids

4K notes · View notes

qitwrites · 3 years

Text

a numbers game

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Kiribaku

(AO3)

Bakugou knows his personality and general rage-filled disposition towards everything, in general, isn’t winning him any favours, but the texts have made him contemplate just how shitty he must’ve been in a past life to deserve a fate like this.

Because no one - and Bakugou knows such assholes as Monoma - but no one deserves to be on the receiving end of unsolicited dick pics. From random numbers. At all times of the day. For the last 3ish months.

“I am going to throw my phone out the fucking window, I swear on all that is good and pure, fucking bull-“

“More dick pics?” Camie interrupts with a wide grin, plucking the phone out of Bakugou’s hand.

“What the fuck else?” Bakugou snaps, trying to pull his phone back in vain. Camie holds it just out of reach, eyeing the disgusting penis with a critical stare.

"Hmm,” she says, passing the phone back to him before taking a sip of her terrible grass juice that smells like a badly mowed golf course, “the lighting is bad and he hasn’t done like, any grooming at all. 3/10.”

“You’re being generous,” Bakugou huffs, deleting the picture immediately and swallowing the still raging urge to fling his phone at the nearest wall. “It’s unsolicited. And his fingernails are fucking filthy. -100/10.”

Camie rolls her eyes. “You’re being dramatic again Kitkat.”

Bakugou counts to 10 in his head, tries to find that last shred of patience he knows is somewhere deep in his dark pit of a soul and breathes out in a rush.

“I need to fucking figure this out before I actually lose it and track down one of these fuckers and choke the life out of them.”

Because here’s the thing- Bakugou has been receiving dick pics and dirty text messages like hi bby want sex? and imma dick you down gud boo – he’s positively swooning, what a lovely way to be wooed – and he has no idea how to stop it. Yes, he could cancel his number and get a new one, but all of his bank details are linked to this one. He’s had it since he first got a phone in middle school, and now all of his documents are attached to the damn thing. The very idea of going to the banks and the DMV and every other stupid establishment to get it changed makes him grimace hard enough that he decides to bear with it.

Except, every time he receives one of these horrible pictures, his urge to blow up the phone, nay, the entire world, simmers at dangerous levels.

“Cool it kitkat,” Camie croons, giving his forearm a squeeze, “you’re making your homicidal face. That cannot be good for wrinkles.”

“Like I give a fuck,” Bakugou grunts, flinging his phone away carelessly and watching it skitter around on the kitchen counter before halting dangerously close to the edge. “I just want it to stop.”

Camie puts her atrocity for a drink down and pulls the fridge open, rummaging around as she says, “I have a theory about all this.” She pulls out a jar of jalapenos and places it in front of Bakugou. The blonde yanks a fork out of the admittedly cute utensil bucket in the middle of their counter before snapping the lid off and spearing a good 3 pieces in one go. He chews on them slowly and directs a raised brow at Camie.

“Well,” she muses, picking her drink back up, “as a woman that receives a LOT of numbers from guys and gals and non-binary folks alike-“ Bakugou makes it a point to roll his eyes hard enough to knock his head back; Camie’s laughter is loud and boisterous “- I have a tactic for when I don’t know how to say no and don’t want to give my digits.”

Bakugou has another forkful of jalapenos in his mouth when he narrows his eyes at her.

Camie shrugs, “I usually change the very last digit of my number. Works like a charm. I never meet the person again, and they can’t contact me. Win-win.”

“Win-win my ass,” Bakugou seethes. “Do I look like I’m winning right now? I am this fucking close to killing someone, because of stupid tactics like yours.”

Camie finishes the last of her drink, and speaks around her straw, “You say that, but do you know how many people, and especially dudes, don’t take no for an answer? The only reason I give out any digits at all is when I can’t guarantee my safety. I know it’s not like, the perfect solution or anything, but I’m giving you facts right now.”

And Bakugou does, in fact, know that. He’s met those pushy assholes- people that don’t back down, people that don’t take no at face value, people that push and prod and get up in his space. It pisses him off to absolutely no end.

“Whatever,” he concedes. He spears another forkful of jalapenos before grumbling, “So, what the fuck do I do?”

Camie grins, minx like. “Why don’t you text the number one ahead and one behind your own and ask? I mean, in the best-case scenario you figure it out and get it all to stop, in the worst case, you get to yell at like random people. Isn’t that your second favourite pastime, right after yelling at that pigeon outside our balcony, the one with an agenda?”

“Don’t talk about that fucking pigeon,” Bakugou fumes, “fucking piece of shit bird and those dark, robotic eyes. Something is up with that; you can’t convince me otherwise.” He mulls over the rest of her suggestion before relenting, “Well, I guess I could spare a moment to yell at the fucking extras giving out my number to perverts with no manners and gross penises.”

“I find it so funny when you say the word manners,” Camie says as she walks to her room, “It’s almost like you know what it means!”

She isn’t even looking at him, but she manages to dodge the jalapeno that sails at her head. It hits the wall with a sick squelch, and when Bakugou hears Camie’s door shut, he drops his head on the counter with a loud, resounding thunk and muffles a scream into the marble.

He forgets to send out those texts, and when he receives yet another picture, not three days later, of someone holding their disgusting penis in their hand, like it’s an accomplishment or some shit, he sends out a text message to two different numbers typed with shaky, sweaty fingers.

>> xxx-xxx-xxx6 , xxx-xxx-xxx4

I don’t know who the fuck you are, and you don’t know me, but it’s possible that one of you assholes gives out my number to random people who, in turn, send me fucking dick pics. It’s been over 3 fucking months, so knock it the actual fuck off. And in case it isn’t you, fuck you anyway.

Bakugou wakes up from a restless sleep to sunlight sloping in through the blinds of his room, a dry mouth, and three new text messages from an unknown number.

Because his brain takes time to boot up in the mornings, he foregoes the phone entirely and makes his way to the kitchen in search of caffeine. Camie is always up before him, and he gratefully pours himself a mug of her insanely strong black coffee, the kind to palpitate your heart and make you vibrate in your seat. She calls it jet fuel, Inasa calls it death, Todoroki just blinks.

When he’s half a mug down, he finally retrieves his phone from his room and takes a seat in the balcony, surrounded by plants of all kinds. The sun is bright but not harsh, and he takes a second to enjoy it before opening his messages.

He doesn’t even recall sending the messages last night, and for a moment he’s enraged at the idea that someone sent him even more dick pics, but there’s no photos waiting for him, just three messages.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 omg omg OMG I didn’t think anyone actually used this number im sorry D:

xxx-xxx-xxx4 no really im so so sorry holy shit I was just following this idea that my friend gave me cause im terrible at turning people down but I didn’t realize they were messaging an actual other person OMG

xxx-xxx-xxx4 ofc I wont be giving your number out anymore im just so sorry bro, god, this is so damn UNMANLY of me

At least the person has the decency to sound apologetic. Not that it tempers Bakugou in any way, shape or form, but he takes note of it somewhere in the distant recesses of his mind.

Bakugou you better not give it out anymore fuckmunch. I should sue your ass for putting me under so much psychological distress.

The guy replies startlingly quickly. Bakugou opens the message with a quirked brow.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 shit can you actually do that?

Bakugou has no idea, but the key to selling anything is confidence, and he’s got enough to spare.

Bakugou try me

xxx-xxx-xxx4 IM REALLY REALLY SORRY OK TRULY D:

xxx-xxx-xxx4 and not just cuz you might sue me or anything, it was a terrible move on my part :’(

xxx-xxx-xxx4 can I make it up to you somehow??

Bakugou huffs, deflating a little. He’s angry yes, positively incensed for the most part, but the guy sounds genuinely sorry, and he’s finding it increasingly difficult to stay mad at someone that’s just being so damn decent and taking full responsibility.

Bakugou I don’t fucking know.

Bakugou just stop giving out my no.

Bakugou I swear to god if I get ONE MORE NUDE

Bakugou I will find you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 you don’t have to find me ill come to you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 cuz ill def deserve it at that point

xxx-xxx-xxx4 anyway, im sorry again. really ☹

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I gotta get some sleep, so tell me later about how I can make it up to you!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 goodnight

Bakugou checks the clock at the top left corner of his phone screen. It reads 8:31am.

What the fuck does this guy do for work anyway? And does Bakugou care?

He decides no, he doesn’t, because he’s really too busy to care about anything, especially assholes that hand out his number to horny strangers because they’re too chickenshit to say no.

He nods at his own conclusion, downs the rest of his death-in-a-cup, and walks back inside, ready to start another long day of work. Bakugou gives himself an hour before he puts this all behind him, fully forgotten and finally taken care of.

Why the fuck haven’t I blocked this fucker yet, is the first thing Bakugou thinks when he gets more texts from them.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 heyyo!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 did you think of anything????? How can I make it up to you??

Bakugou stop texting me, that’ll be a great start

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I will as soon as u tell me how to make it up to you!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I was being so unmanly and cowardly, I need to fix it!!

Bakugou good for fucking you, leave me alone

xxx-xxx-xxx4 y don’t you keep thinking abt it and lemme know !!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 if it helps, I can hook u up with some free drinks!! I co-own and bartend at a place downtown!!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 just think abt it

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I gotta get back to work, talk soon!

Bakugou stop texting me dammit

Bakugou isn’t a naïve person, but he somehow convinces himself that this will be the end of things.

It is, predictably, not the end of things.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I just realized I didn’t give u my name

xxx-xxx-xxx4 Kirishima eijirou!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 and you are?

Bakugou blocking you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 aww come on man, don’t be like tht ☹

xxx-xxx-xxx4 wait, r u a man?????

xxx-xxx-xxx4 PLEASE AT LEAST TELL ME THAT I DON’T WANT TO MISGENDER U OMG

Bakugou can you calm the fuck down holy shit

Bakugou yes I’m a dude, you’re fucking fine dumbass

xxx-xxx-xxx4 oh phew!!!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 ok my dude

xxx-xxx-xxx4 please come down to the bar??????

xxx-xxx-xxx4 do you actually drink though?? If you don’t we still have great mocktails

xxx-xxx-xxx4 and I can whip up some awesome protein shakes

xxx-xxx-xxx4 ohhh and our food is bomb,,, I promise

Bakugou do you ever just stop talking

xxx-xxx-xxx4 NOPE :D

Bakugou Not a compliment

xxx-xxx-xxx4 what can I say

xxx-xxx-xxx4 im an opportunist

Bakugou you’re telling me

Bakugou fucker

xxx-xxx-xxx4 IM STILL SO SORRY

xxx-xxx-xxx4 PLEASE COME TO THE BAR LET ME MAKE IT UP TO YOU

xxx-xxx-xxx4 actions speak hella louder than words

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I must action you

Bakugou what the fuck

xxx-xxx-xxx4 you get what I mean!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 <location> this is the place

xxx-xxx-xxx4 its name is RIOT, u cant miss it

xxx-xxx-xxx4 just lemme know when u can make it

Bakugou I haven’t agreed to shit asshole

Bakugou stop assuming things

xxx-xxx-xxx4 free food, free drinks, free live performance of whatever band’s performing

Bakugou …………………

Bakugou I’ll think about it

xxx-xxx-xxx4 HELL YEAH

xxx-xxx-xxx4 whats your name btw?

Bakugou like id tell you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I need it for the reservation!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 so that I don’t accidentally serve the wrong gentleman all your free perks

Bakugou didn’t say im coming yet

xxx-xxx-xxx4 im super optimistic

Bakugou I can tell, you’re giving me a headache

xxx-xxx-xxx4 so………… name?

Bakugou no

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I’ll get it out of you eventually

Bakugou try me

Bakugou fucker

If Bakugou finds himself smiling at the end of the exchange, well, that’s his business.

“So, you finally figured out who was responsible for the penis pictures?” Todoroki deadpans around his cosmo.

“That’s wonderful Bakugou!” Inasa booms, slamming his beer down on the counter with gusto. Bakugou throws a spoon at him.

“Shut it Baldy,” he grunts, going back to chopping veggies. “And yes, I did, but now this fucker won’t stop texting me, insisting on making it up to me or some shit.”

“And this is a bad thing?” Todoroki summarizes slowly. Bakugou turns around in time to see him mouth why to Inasa before taking another generous sip of his drink. Inasa shrugs his stupidly large shoulders before asking, “Why is that a bad thing?”

Bakugou throws another spoon at him. “Because, I texted them so I could stop people from texting me. Now this person’s volunteering information to me about being a bartender and shit and constantly apologizing and it’s fucking annoying.”

“You know what’s interesting?” Camie muses, stirring her bloody mary with a long ass celery stick. “You’re getting all these text messages from this bartender, and you can like, so easily block this one number and be done with it, but you like, keeping responding. And keep, you know, not blocking.”

He can’t see it, but he knows Todoroki is nodding, the fucker.

“That is a good observation!” Inasa booms again, and Bakugou has to resist the urge to fling his entire cutlery set at the man’s thick skull. “Do you like this person Bakugou?”

“What’s there to like, I don’t even fucking know him!”

“Well,” Camie starts, takes a bite out of the celery stick, continues, “he’s well-mannered. Clearly good looking, because you got a LOT of penis pictures these past three months, and that also leads us to believe the business is doing really well, if so many patrons come in begging for a number. All good things, don’t you think?”

“I hate you,” Bakugou says, stirring the curry with barely repressed rage. “I hate all of you. I hate humanity. Fuck people.”

“Or fuck this person in specific,” Camie says gleefully. “You haven’t gotten laid in like 8 months boo, you need to get some.”

“You’re the actual fucking worst.”

“In all seriousness,” Todoroki interrupts, putting his empty glass down delicately, “why haven’t you blocked the number? It seems like an easy enough solution.” The asshole has the audacity to sound genuinely curious, if not slightly amused.

Bakugou hates everything.

“I don’t, I don’t fucking know, ok?” He finally admits through clenched teeth. The blonde kills the heat and places the curry on the counter while Camie brings out the rice and some pickled vegetables from the fridge. She pulls out a beer and twists the cap off before handing it to Bakugou, who snatches it away and takes a quick swig before continuing, “He’s actually kinda nice to me, I guess. And I like watching him be so sorry about all those penises. I may have also mentioned suing him for psychological distress.” Bakugou catches Todoroki’s gaze. “Can I do that?”

Todoroki hums, “You can try, but I don’t think you’ve got that solid a case. Plus, haven’t you deleted virtually all the evidence?”

Bakugou grips the neck of his beer bottle harder. “I fucking hate everything.”

bartender asshole <image attached>

Bakugou what the fuck

Bakugou why are you sending me cat pics?

Bakugou also that cat is stupidly cute

bartender asshole I know right?????

bartender asshole her name is ruby

bartender asshole and id die for her

bartender asshole i just figured ud be a cat person

Bakugou ………….

Bakugou I hate u

bartender asshole :D :D :D

Bakugou ugh

Bakugou Bakugou Katsuki

bartender asshole :D :D :D :D :D

bartender asshole HI BAKUGOU SO NICE TO KNOW UR NAME

Bakugou I hate everything

bartender asshole except ruby. Its not allowed

Bakugou …………………………………

Bakugou except ruby

bartender asshole :D :D :D :D :D

Kirishima, it turns out, is a ray of fucking sunshine. Bakugou has a distinct feeling that looking at him directly would be a blinding experience.

Not that he knows who to look for though; he has no idea what this guy looks like. He guesses that he’s buff, with all the times he tells Bakugou about the gym showers running out of hot water and beating his best weights doing bench presses, but he knows nothing else.

He does know that he’s sweet as fuck, making it impossible for Bakugou to stay mad at him. He doesn’t blink at Bakugou’s cussing, and he sends him cute pictures of Ruby.

There is a part of him, small but steadily growing, that wants to meet this stupidly nice bartender.

Bakugou hates everything.

dumbass bartender so what do you do???

Bakugou front-end development and web design

dumbass bartender oh damn!!!

dumbass bartender so youre like smart smart

Bakugou obviously

dumbass bartender have I seen your work anywhere??

Bakugou I recently redid the website of that protein powder company you don’t shut up about

dumbass bartender ????????????????????

dumbass bartender that’s amazing!!!!!!!!!

dumbass bartender I just revisited the website, it looks so cool

Bakugou duh

Bakugou im the best

dumbass bartender I don’t doubt that!!! :D :D

Bakugou don’t you have work?

dumbass bartender aww bakubro are you looking out for me <3 <3

Bakugou call me that again and I will fucking end you

dumbass bartender before the free drinks??? That you are yet to redeem? ?? at my wonderful establishment?????????? :D :D :D

Bakugou I hate everything.

dumbass bartender D:

Bakugou except RUBY DAMMIT

dumbass bartender :D

“Just to recap,” Kaminari says with an incredulous look in his eyes, “this guy cusses like a sailor, is constantly insulting you, never initiates conversation, and you still like him?”

Kirishima’s answering grin is bashful. “I mean, when you put it like that it sounds not so great, but he’s really not that bad! He’s super funny and confident, and he LOVES Ruby. Plus, I don’t like him like that, I just think he’s cool.” Kirishima picks up another glass from the washer and starts carefully drying it with his dishcloth before saying, “And, you know, I did put him through a lot by giving out his number. His behaviour is kinda warranted if you ask me.”

“I mean, in the beginning maybe, but haven’t you guys been texting for over a week now?”

“Denki, are you forgetting that giving out another number was your idea?” Kirishima mutters, narrowing his eyes at his best friend. “I’m in this mess because of you.”

Kaminari suddenly seems to find the glass in his hand a lot more interesting. Kirishima’s laugh echoes around the empty bar.

‘What’s so funny?” Ashido muses, bringing a crate of bottled beer behind the counter.

“Kirishima is going gaga over angry dick pic man.”

“I’m not going gaga, what the heck-“

“I think it’s cute,” Ashido says with a big smile. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you actually be interested in somebody; it’s really cute!”

“I don’t like him like that,” Kirishima stresses, though his cheeks are a little warm. He can blame that on the lack of air conditioning, he thinks.

“We talking about angry dick pic man?” Sero asks with a shit-eating grin. “10 bucks say he’s actually a middle-aged guy with a cheese fetish.”

“That’s so random-“

“You’re on!” Ashido yells, slapping her hand into Sero’s. “I think he’ll be a hottie.”

“He hasn’t even said he’ll come,” Kirishima says, eyes downcast.

“He’ll come,” the three chorus, going about doing their tasks. Kirishima shakes his head fondly and finishes up with the glasses. Just as he’s put all the shot glasses away, he feels his phone vibrate.

Bakubro just finished a massive project

Bakubro could use a drink this weekend

Bakubro know any good spots?

Kirishima’s face breaks into the biggest smile as he rushes to answer.

Kirishima I know a bar that serves free drinks with your name on it!!!!

Kirishima amazing food, dope music, the bestest drinks

Kirishima ive heard the bartender is a great guy too

Bakubro way to toot your own fucking horn damn

Kirishima :DDDDD

Kirishima bt seriously

Kirishima please? ???? ??

Kirishima PLEASEEEEEEEEE??????????????????

Bakubro ugh

Bakubro fine.

Bakubro Friday night at 8

Kirishima looks up from the screen and calls out, “Denki!”

“Yeah?”

“Switch shifts with me, I’ll do Friday.”

“Um, ok, why though?”

Kirishima doesn’t respond, just goes back to texting, his heart thudding in his ribcage.

Kirishima YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Kirishima cant wait :D

Bakubro I’m bringing my stupid friends btw

Kirishima wait

Kirishima you have friends???????

Bakubro I am going to end you

Bakubro you know what? Fuck you im not coming

Kirishima BAKUGOU NO

Kirishima IM SORRY OFC U HAVE FRNDS

Kirishima please come

Kirishima how big a table should I reserve????

Bakubro don’t bother

Kirishima IM SORRRYYYYYYYYYY

Kirishima <image attached> <image attached> <image attached>

Bakubro bastard

Bakubro you playing dirty by sending me pics of Ruby

Kirishima need to weaken your guard somehow

Kirishima pls tell me it worked

Bakubro ugh

Bakubro ill be there

Bakubro reserve a table for 4

Bakubro your stupid bar better be worth it

Kirishima I promise it will be!!!!

Kirishima whoops in joy, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He looks up to see three sets of eyes looking at him with varying degrees of amusement.

“You get a really mushy look on your face when you’re texting him, it’s almost gross,” Sero points out with a laugh.

“Hush you,” Ashido admonishes, whipping her dishcloth at him. She walks over to Kirishima and gives him a big hug. “I think it’s very, very precious.”

“What did he say?”

“He’s coming this Friday!” Kirishima beams, holding Ashido closer against his side.

The three giggle.

“10 bucks say Kirishima messes up the drinks at least once.”

“HEY!”

Ashido squeezes around his middle. “Hon, I love you, but I’m not dumb enough to go against that.”

“HEY!”

They end up laughing and fibbing at each other for the rest of the prep time, and Kirishima feels his heart absolutely soar.

Friday brings with it crunch time, running lines and lines of code, having a mini-breakdown because the stupid text block keeps floating around on the webpage like it’s in outer fucking space, being forced into one of Camie’s ridiculous vlogs and having an existential crisis about what to wear on a non-date get-together with the guy that ruined Bakugou’s life for close to three months.

Camie spends most of the day laughing at him. Bakugou throws more condiments at her.

“Fucking help me at least, you useless wench,” Bakugou growls, shifting to clothes as he throws a pair of jeans at her. Camie dances out of the way and doubles over, laughing till she tears up from the force of it all.

“I can’t, I just can’t,” she wheezes. “Did you just say wench? What era are you from babe?”

“FUCK OFF,” he roars, leaping towards her. Camie shrieks and ducks away, making a beeline towards his closet.

“Ok, ok, let’s get you dressed! What kinda look are you trying for?”

“Fuck if I know,” he grouses, feeling oddly out of his depth. He wants to look good, but he has no idea for what.

That’s a lie, he knows why. He just won’t admit it.

“Well, why don’t we pick something simple but flattering? Plus, if it's in your style, you’re bound to be more comfy.” Camie pulls out a pair of black jeans that are ripped at the knees, a black fitted round-neck tee shirt, and some black boots. While he’s changing, Camie pulls out a silver chain, some bands for his wrists and a collection of rings.

“Do you want me to do your eyes?” she offers, holding up some mascara and an eye pencil. Bakugou shrugs and sits on the edge of his bed. Camie’s smile is soft as she stands between his thighs, gently but efficiently applying his make-up. When she’s done, he walks over to the mirror to look at himself, and he has to admit- he looks good. Always one to take care of his body and his figure, Bakugou is lean muscle packed into a 5’10” body. His blonde hair is as messy as ever, but the combination of his make-up, the accessories and his clothes give him an edgy look like no other. Camie throws a dark fitted jacket at him before sauntering over to her own room.

He continues to reply to some work emails when his phone buzzes.

dumbass cant wait to see you!!!

dumbass just ask for me at the bar

dumbass or I might be the one to greet you!! :D :D

Bakugou I know dumbass

Bakugou what, are you nervous or some shit?

dumbass I mean, kinda????

dumbass it’s our first time meeting afterall

dumbass I don’t even know wat you look like!!!!

Bakugou blonde wearing all black

dumbass redhead wearing a shirt with the riot logo!

Bakugou whatever

Bakugou ill be there at 8

Dumbass cant wait <33333

Bakugou dumbass

Bakugou scoffs, his own nerves calming at the thought that he’s not the only one that’s a bit out of sorts. It’s nice to know that sunshine Kirishima is jittery about all this.

Also, interesting to know that he’s a redhead. Bakugou can’t quite imagine it, but in a few minutes, he won't need to.

His stomach roils with anticipation, and Bakugou hates every single thing.

Camie pops out of her room at half-past 7 in a maroon romper that cuts above her mid-thigh, hair done in a loose bun, makeup absolutely perfect. Her heels put her at a height taller than Bakugou, but he’s gotten used to being the shortest in their stupid posse. Doesn’t piss him off any less though.

She gets a phone call just as she pushes a tube of lip gloss into her purse.

“We are downstairs!” Inasa’s voice rings through her speaker, stupidly loud.

“Can it, baldy,” Bakugou grunts with a roll of his eyes, “we’ll be there in a sec.”

“See ya!”

Before Bakugou can usher Camie out the door, she pushes her clutch into his hands and walks over to the kitchen cabinet, pulling out two shot glasses and a bottle of tequila.

“Wha-“

“Liquid courage, my dude,” she says, pouring two generous shots and pushing one at Bakugou. She picks her own glass up and gives him a devilish smirk, “Bottoms up bitch!”

Bakugou picks the glass up with a resigned sigh but smirks back equally devilish. They cheers, smack the glasses against the counter and drain them smoothly. Camie puts the glasses in the sink, places a smacking kiss on Bakugou’s cheek and laughs brightly as she dances out of the way of his rage.

They finally load up in Inasa’s range rover, Todoroki plays classical Japanese music over the speakers and Bakugou regrets everything.

Riot is apparently something of a beloved establishment in its neighbourhood, and Bakugou growls when he sees how long the line leading to the bar is.

“Holy moly, that’s a lot of people!” Camie points out helpfully as she disembarks from the car.

Todoroki straightens his two-tone denim jacket and runs a hand through his hair as he says, “We have a reservation, so I think it’ll be fine?”

“Yes, I agree with you Todoroki,” Inasa beams, locking the car behind him as they walk towards the building. The outside is made of exposed brick and neon lights, and the RIOT sign is a deep red colour, eye-catching and beautiful.

They bypass the people in the line and walk up to the bouncer, who eyes them warily. He’s built like an absolute tank, broad and block-like, and his silver hair shines in the artificial light.

“Can I help you?”

“Bakugou, table for 4,” Camie says cheerily. The bouncer looks immediately enamoured with her before his eyes go wide.

“Wait, Eijirou’s Bakugou?”

Bakugou’s ears burn at that.

“I’m not fucking anybody’s!” he snaps. The bouncer immediately looks at him, and his face breaks into an even wider grin.

“Well, I’ll be damned! Can I see some ID real quick?”

Bakugou cusses colourfully under his breath but pulls out his license, and after a quick check, the bouncer, whose name is Tetsutetsu, steps aside to let them in.

“Have a good time!” he says happily, almost too happily. Bakugou feels his hackles rise.

“What the fuck?”

“It appears that Kirishima talks about you at least as much as you talk about him,” Todoroki observes, walking next to Bakugou.

“I don’t talk about him, fuck you!”

Todoroki’s delicately raised brow makes him want to punch something. Or someone. Preferably both.

“Fuck you all,” he reiterates before stomping inside.

Now, Bakugou is a relatively creative soul – his job kinda demands it – so it’s not his fault that he’s actually quite captivated by the interiors of this stupidly popular bar co-owned by a stupidly nice person.

The inside has exposed brick as well, and most of the furniture seems to be retro. There are large pipes and barrels behind the bar, made of what seems to be pure copper. Black marble covers the bar tops, and the lights are a mix of neon and muted whites, bright enough to see but still bathing the room in an alluring aura. There’s music thumping through the speakers, loud enough to dispel any silence but still at a bearable volume.

“Swanky,” Camie whistles, taking it all in.

Bakugou nods begrudgingly before setting his eyes on the bar.

“I’ll go get us a fucking table,” he mutters before walking over, hands digging deep into his pant pockets. He sees a lanky black-haired guy and a girl with tan skin and pink hair behind the bar, talking animatedly with the patrons as they serve them drinks at a dizzying pace.

When he finally gets a spot at the counter, the pink-haired girl finishes up with a customer and bounds over to him.

“Hi,” she greets, smile wide and happy, “haven’t seen you around before! What can I get you?”

“Kirishima,” Bakugou says because apparently, his brain to mouth filter has decided to abandon him in his time of need. The girl tilts her head in confusion and Bakugou feels the life drain out of him.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m fuckin here because of dumbass Kirishima,” Bakugou barely grits out, fingers digging into his palms painfully. “The name is Bakugou, table for 4?”

He sees it all in slow-mo- the way her mouth goes slack, the way her eyes light up like firecrackers on New Year’s, and then the way her smile becomes positively blinding. He hates her already.

“Holy shit,” she breathes, “of course! So glad you’re here! Oye, Sero?”

“What?” the black-haired guy says without looking, topping up a perfectly poured glass of beer.

“You owe me 10 bucks.”

This gets his attention- he hands the drink off and looks at her, “Why would I-“

The girl just gestures at Bakugou and winks, “It’s him.”

Sero – or plain face, Bakugou’s brain helpfully supplies – immediately looks at him, his eyes widening. “Shit, seriously? Aw, man.” His smile becomes mischievous. “I’ll get Kirishima.” He opens the door behind the bar and disappears.

“What the fuck was that?” Bakugou snaps, beyond irritated to be so out of the loop.

“Nothing, nothing,” Pinky sings, raising her hands in a placating gesture. “Kirishima will show your party to your table. Do you want anything in the meantime?”

“… a beer,” Bakugou concedes because he’s not dumb enough to not get a drink before he sees Kirishima if he can help it.

“Coming right up!”

He waits at the bar, watching as his group of dumbasses ooh and ahh at the place, looking delighted. A bottle of cold beer hits the counter with a satisfying thunk, bringing his attention back to the bartop.

“Enjoy!” Pinky still has a stupid smile on her face but before Bakugou can say anything, the door behind her is thrown open and plain face steps out.

“The restocking can wait, literally the only thing you’ve talked about for the last 3 days is finally happening.”

The guy following him is all tanned skin and thick muscles under a fitted deep red tee shirt. His hair is a bright unnatural red, pulled into a high pony with a few strands still framing his face. His eyes are a softer red than Bakugou’s own, his cheeks sharp and high, and when his eyes meet Bakugou’s, a zip of electricity races down his spine and along his limbs till he can feel it in his toes.

When the man makes his way over, Bakugou also notes how damn tall he is- easily around 6’4”. His smile is shy, and he smells like sandalwood.

“Bakugou, hi,” he breathes, hesitantly holding his hand out. Bakugou takes it in a daze, still amazed by just how stupidly beautiful this stupidly kind bar owner is.

“Heyyo, you disappeared fam, how’s it going?”

Bakugou hates everything.

He reluctantly slips his hand out of Kirishima’s warm, firm grip and turns to Camie with venomous eyes. “I literally just met him Cam, shut the fuck up.” He turns back to Kirishima, “Can you show us to our table?”

Kirishima shakes his head once before his smile turns blinding, and Bakugou finds himself fighting the urge to shield his eyes. “Of course,” he says in a voice that’s deep and warm and honey-like, “right this way!”

Bakugou snags his beer off the counter and takes a quick swig before Camie steals it and takes a few sips of her own. He growls at her but otherwise behaves, watching Kirishima’s back as he leads them through throngs of people engaged in cheerful conversation.

“Ok, well, he’s hot,” Cam says around the lip of the bottle. “Total beefcake. Whaddya think, boo?”

“I think you should fuck off,” Bakugou hisses, his face burning.

“If you wanted to go on a date, you probably shouldn’t have invited us,” Todoroki says, taking the offered bottle from Camie.

Before Bakugou can explode in their faces, Kirishima stops and turns around. “Here ya go!” He gestures to a table behind him, tucked into a more private corner of the bar. It’s large and cushy, and when Bakugou gets in after Camie, he’s surprised at how soft the material is.

“So?” Kirishima says, eyes trained on Bakugou.

“Fuckin what?” Bakugou snaps, voice lacking any heat.

Kirishima laughs, head thrown back to reveal a long, thick neck and Bakugou is so damn weak.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”

Bakugou clicks his tongue before gesturing at each of them, “Camie, marketing expert by day, YouTube beauty vlogger by night, pain in my ass always. Todoroki, environmental lawyer and a soba obsessed weirdo. Inasa, physiotherapist and resident dumbass.”

Kirishima gives them all a wave before saying, “Kirishima, co-owner of Riot and the reason why Bakugou saw more unwarranted penises than strictly necessary in a lifetime.”

“Asshole,” Bakugou grumbles, earning him another laugh and a bashful hand ruffling the back of Kirishima’s head.

“Still so sorry about that man,” Kirishima offers, “everything’s definitely on the house for you all! Speaking of ordering-“ Kirishima moves on to explain their ordering system-

“You can scan the code with your camera app,” the redhead says, pointing at the barcode on the centrepiece of their table, “and it pulls up our bar and food menu. Just enter your order and your table number,” he points at the large digits on the side that glows a bright 15 back at them.

Inasa pulls his phone out to order. Before he leaves, Kirishima says, “Can I get your drink order before I go?”

Camie asks for a LIIT, Inasa gets a Soju bomb and Todoroki starts off with his usual- a cosmo.

“You good on that beer?” Kirishima asks Bakugou warmly, his eyes dancing with mirth.

“I’m fine,” he grumbles, sliding lower into his seat. “Maybe get me another, your choice?”

“Coming right up,” Kirishima beams before stepping away, and Bakugou’s heart splutters around his chest at the sight of sharp white teeth and cheek-aching grins.

“He’s so cute!” Camie squeals, stealing the last of his beer. “And he’s totes into you too.”

“I have to agree, he’s very attractive,” Todoroki says impassively.

“Certified hottie,” Inasa rounds up, flashing his own biceps for some reason.

Bakugou is so done, and they’ve been here all 5 minutes.

“Kirishim- Kirishima, the beer is overflowing,” Ashido says, pushing him away and taking over. “God, you’re so gone for him, it’s almost embarrassing.”

Kirishima snaps out of his stupor and moves to take the glass back. Ashido hip checks him away.

“You’re being a little stupid, go help Satou with plating and take the food to lover boy’s table.”

“He has a name, you know,” Kirishima mumbles, but Ashido simply laughs, and Kirishima feels his neck and ears go warm.

Because who let Bakugou walk into his bar looking like that? Looking so damn gorgeous in his all-black get up and his perfect eye make-up and that fierce scowl?

Kirishima’s heart had pretty much stopped at the sight of him, and it was yet to regain its usual rhythm.

The redhead rests his forehead against the wall and mumbles, “I’m so screwed.”

“We know buddy,” Sero says, patting his back sympathetically, “we know.”

For all that Bakugou hates outings and people and outings in places filled with people, he finds himself having a moderately good time.

Because the food is delicious if lacking a little heat, the alcohol is mixed perfectly and the music is fantastic, filtering through old rock classics with some alt stuff mixed in.

And then there’s Kirishima- tending the bar with ease, laughing along with his co-workers, and sending Bakugou wide, happy smiles that sets his entire face on fire.

“This place is awesome,” Camie whoops, banging another shot glass on the table before knocking it back with ease. Todoroki joins her, his impassive face not so much as twitching at the taste of strong tequila before he bites into a lime. Inasa is already beer drunk, cheeks dusky as he hums along to the music.

“Insufferable,” Bakugou mumbles around his 4th-ish beer. He likes to keep up his grumpy act till his last shred of dignity melts away cause of the alcohol, and he’s probably pretty hit already because he lets Camie pull him into her side with her arm around his shoulder, his nose suddenly privy to the scent of her mellow perfume.

“I love you guys,” Camie beams, picking up her beer and waving it in front of her. Todoroki and Inasa clink their drinks against it, and Bakugou silently waves his own bottle around before downing it.

“You guys good on- oh my god, are you Camie? THE Camie?”

It’s Pinky at their table and her eyes are so comically wide that Bakugou can’t help his snort of laughter. He feels Camie straighten up, but her arm around him stays, holding him close.

“Define THE Camie,” she says with a smile in her voice.

“The beauty blogger that I’ve only been following for the last 3 years, holy shit I love your videos.” And then suddenly, her eyes narrow on Bakugou before she snaps her fingers. “NO WONDER YOU LOOK FAMILIAR! You’re the angry blonde in all her videos!”

“Haan? You wanna go pinky?” Bakugou growls, moving to stand up. Camie keeps him firmly by her side, her laughter shaking them both.

“That’s us!” Camie says. Bakugou finally fights his way out of her grip and throws her a withering look, or his drunken attempt at one anyway. She winks, and he fake gags. “I don’t get recognized in public all that often LOL, this is fun.”

“Did you just say LOL in a verbal fucking conversation?”

“What do you mean you don’t get recognized; you literally have like 3.2million subscribers.”

Camie ignores Bakugou and shrugs at Pinky. “I guess my primary demographic aint here fam. Speaking of which,” she thrusts her hand out, “what’s your name?”

“Ashido Mina,” she says, taking her hand firmly. Camie introduces her to the others, and Bakugou looks back at the bar, disappointed to see that he can’t find Kirishima.

“Can I top you guys off?” Kirishima says, suddenly right next to their table, effectively startling the shit outta Bakugou.

Camie chirps an affirmative, Todoroki asks for a water and checks to see if Inasa’s breathing as the big olf continues to sleep, curled up in the corner of the booth.

“And you Bakubro?”

“Don’t call me that,” Bakugou frowns before adding, “I should probably stop, I’m already kinda tipsy.”

“Lightweight,” Camie teases.

Bakugou gives her the stink eye. “Woman, the one time I tried keeping up with you, I ended up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning and you didn’t have so much as a hangover, so fuck off.”

“Seriously?” Kirishima says, eyes wide.

“That’s amazing,” Ashido murmurs, her smile crooked and dangerous.

Bakugou. Hates. Everything.

“He had no lasting liver damage, we’re all fine,” Camie reassures before diving into a conversation with Mina about beauty hacks and good mascara brands and global warming.

Kirishima leans close to Bakugou, bathing him in that warm sandalwood scent. “How about I get you some water and one last beer? A Hefeweizen?”

Bakugou turns to look at him, and his breath hitches in his throat when he notices how close they are, when he sees just how red Kirishima’s eyes are, how the heat seems to radiate off his skin. He exhales in a rush and looks away, answering with a jerky nod.

Kirishima gives his shoulder a friendly squeeze – he’s so warm, his hand is fucking huge – before walking to the bar and picking their stuff up.

When pinky finally meanders away from their table to serve other customers, Camie leans her head on Bakugou’s shoulder and says, “We’ll leave soon, ok?”

Bakugou nods again, leaning some of his weight back into her. Todoroki catches his eye and flashes him a warm, tipsy smile, and if he returns it with one of his own, well, he’s drunk out of his skull and has approximately no fucks to give.

Long after putting Bakugou and his posse in a cab, before which they insisted on paying pretty much the entire tab since they ate and drank a LOT, Kirishima and the rest are cleaning up when Ashido whips him with her cleaning rag.

Kirishima looks at her with betrayed eyes, “Wha-“

“Ei, you better text him again.”

“About what?” Kirishima says glumly. “I did what I said I would do, and I promised to leave him alone after that.”

“Boy please,” Ashido scoffs, roughly wiping down one of the tables, “ya’ll made such gooey eyes at each other all night, plus I’m pretty sure he paid the entire tab just so you could keep up whatever façade you guys have going on to cover up the fact that you have INSANE chemistry with one another.”

“Yeah, the tension was palpable bro,” Sero chimes in, throwing an arm around his waist. “I think you should text him too. He seemed really amusing, and his whole group was a riot.”

Kirishima rolls his eyes at the pun but smiles at them, feeling a new burst of energy in his limbs.

“You guys are absolutely right! Worst case, he blocks me. At least I won’t have any regrets.”

“Yeah boy, get it with that optimism.”

Bakugou wakes up to a slight headache, a mouth that tastes like ash, and a profound sadness that settles atop his sternum, weighing him down and pressing him into his mattress.

He sees the glass of water on his bedside table with ibuprofen placed neatly next to it and downs them both without so much as a second thought. As his brain slowly comes back online, he takes a moment to finally navigate his messy feelings and comes to a crushing realization-

Kirishima doesn’t have to text him anymore.

The redhead had said that he’d leave him alone after making it up to him, and yes, it was Bakugou’s standoffish nature that got them into that situation in the first place. And yes, Bakugou had paid the tab mostly because it was too high a bill to be footed by the bar and Bakugou made bank, but also because a small, minuscule part of him hoped that the gesture would make Kirishima insist on another outing or something to ‘make it up to him'.

The blonde doesn’t even bother to acknowledge the fact that he forgave Kirishima almost two days into texting him.

He almost avoids his phone out of fear alone and makes it through a whole cup of coffee and 3 chapters into a novel recommended by Deku before finally picking up his phone to check for emails and notifications.

He expects none from Kirishima.

So, of course, there are 3 from the redhead.

Bakugou’s heart leaps to his throat and he can’t seem to unlock his phone quite fast enough.

fuck he’s cute hi Bakugou, thank you for coming last night!!!

fuck he’s cute it was actually really cool 2 finally meet you. U didn’t have to pay the tab tho :’D

fuck he’s cute bt since u did, I still owe u. can we figure it out later??? Also, what did you think of the place???

Bakugou dumbass

Bakugou you’ve got a swanky place, I’ll give you that. Food was fucking good too. could be spicier.

Bakugou you got cam completely hooked

Bakugou and yeah, you better make it up to me later. Asshole.

Kirishima replies a few hours later, just as Bakugou finishes up a yoga routine that stretches out his back in the best way possible.

fuck he’s cute :D :D :D :D :D

fuck he’s cute can’t wait

fuck he’s cute <image attached>

fuck he’s cute ruby says hi

It’s a selfie this time, not a picture of just the kitty. Bakugou can appreciate how cute the mutt is, but for once, he has no attention to spare her. Not when Kirishima’s eyes are crinkling around the edges from how hard he smiles up at the camera, not when he’s wearing a tank top with relaxed arm holes, showing off bulging muscles and hints of ink, and not when just the mere thought of him makes Bakugou’s stomach flop around uncontrollably.

He barely manages to reply coherently.

Bakugou the only bright spot in this shitty world

He presses his phone to his forehead and quietly contemplates just how gay he is. Camie pets his head on the way to the kitchen.

It takes Bakugou some time to get used to waking up to Good Morning texts and a stream of random thoughts from Kirishima all day. The flutter in his stomach disappears a few weeks into talking to the redhead, instead replaced by a bone-deep warmth that always manages to make him feel a little better.

dumbass kirishima GOOOOOOOD MORNING :D

dumbass Kirishima someone threw up on my fave shoes last night

Bakugou HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Bakugou suffer

dumbass Kirishima y u so mean to me ☹ ☹

Bakugou cause its fuckin hilarious

dumbass Kirishima ☹

Bakugou ugh

Bakugou <image attached> [it’s a picture of Bakugou’s balcony, and all his plants look vibrant green as the sun hits them just right]

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D

dumbass Kirishima legit felt my serotonin just spike

dumbass Kirishima thxxxxxx

Bakugou whatever

Bakuguo dumbass

---

Bakugou if I plan a murder can I count on your stupid muscles to help me move the body

dumbass Kirishima D:

dumbass Kirishima at least take me out to dinner b4 involving me in your crimes

dumbass Kirishima what a lack of manners

Bakugou stfu

dumbass Kirishima :”D :”D

dumbass Kirishima youre joking right?

dumbass Kirishima right??

dumbass Kirishima RIGHT?????

dumbass Kirishima BAKUGOU THIS IS A BAD TIME TO LEAVE ME HANGING BRO DO NOT DO THIS

Bakugou don’t call me bro

dumbass Kirishima THAT IS NOT THE POINT RIGHT NOW

Bakugou lol I didn’t do shit dumbass don’t worry

Bakugou or did I?

dumbass Kirishima BAKUGOU NO

---

dumbass Kirishima <image attached> [it’s a gym selfie; Kirishima is crouching in front of the mirror shirtless, hair pulled into a bun atop his head. He’s glistening with sweat, and he’s got a more serious look on his face. He’s not actively flexing any muscle, but the pose makes his thighs, calves and biceps bulge. One hand holds the phone, the other is resting on his bent knee]

dumbass Kirishima working on deez gainz

Bakugou what time do you usually workout

dumbass Kirishima depends on my schedule actually

dumbass Kirishima I prefer the morning, but when I take the late night shift I usually go be4 work the next day

Bakugou hmmm

Bakugou let me know

Bakugou maybe we can go together

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D

Bakugou ugh I changed my mind

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D :D

dumbass Kirishima no takebacksies

Bakugou fucking fantastic

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D

---

“So, let me get this straight- you guys gym together at least once a week, you talk every day, your stomach flutters at the mere thought of him and Cam swears he’s making googly eyes at you all the time, and you still haven’t asked each other out yet?”

Bakugou flips his phone off, “Fuck off Deku, don’t be a little shit.”

Midoriya’s face morphs into an amused smile on the other end of their facetime call, “Are you being bashful Kacchan? That’s adorable.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“NOOOOO,” Midoriya bemoans dramatically. “I can’t believe I’m missing all this.”

“Yeah, well, who the fuck told you to teach kids English halfway across the world dumbass?”

“I miss you too Kacchan,” Midoriya beams, making a heart with his hands.

“I truly loathe you.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Midoriya puts a few papers away before sighing. “So?”

“So what?”

“So, are you going to make a move? How do you plan on doing it?”

“I don’t,” Bakugou ruffles his hair and ducks his head to hide his rapidly warming cheeks, “I’m not asking him out Deku, fuck that.”

“Why not?” the asshole whines, eyes wide and innocent. “You deserve happiness Kacchan. Plus, he seems like a really nice guy.” Midoriya leans forward and adds in a whisper, “I’ve heard he has a fantastic butt.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes and flips him off again, “Fuck off, you can’t say that without actually meeting him.”

“I’ll be back before then. You guys better be dating already when I get there.”

“Stop telling me what to do, shitty Deku!”

“Never Kacchan, that’s what you do for the people you love.”

“Ugh, how are you so gross when you’re so far away, I hate you.”

Midoriya’s laugh sounds tinny over the phone speaker, lacking its usual body and warmth. Bakugou huffs again before picking his novel back up to read.

“Hi Zuku,” Camie calls out from over Bakugou’s shoulder. “You need to come back soon and help me with Kitkat, he refuses to make the first move!”

“Butt out of my fucking love life, you freaks!”

“Can’t butt out of something that doesn’t exist Kats,” Camie deadpans.

Bakugou feels extremely justified in flinging a stress ball right at her. The kitchen fills up with raucous laughter, from his phone and from the person standing in front of him, and Bakugou thinks that adding a deeper, warmer laugh to the mix, coming from a specific redhead might not be the worst thing in the world.

Kiri bakugouuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

Bakugou what?

Kiri just wanted to say hi <3

Bakugou wth

Kiri we still on fr the gym tomorrow?

Bakugou obviously you dumbass

Bakugou I need you to spot me

Bakugou im beating my personal best tomorrow or im going to die trying

Kiri so manly :O :O :O

Kiri I’ve got you bruh

Bakugou don’t call me that

Bakugou and I know you do

Kiri <3 <3

---

Bakugou <link>

Bakugou that playlist you were asking about

Kiri u da bomb katsuki

Bakugou katsuki huh?

Bakugou getting cocky I see

Kiri I mean, weve known each other for like 4 months now???

Kiri ur one of my closest pals

Kiri I don’t have to, I just thought ud like it more than bro

Bakugou I do like it more than bro

Bakugou eijirou

Bakugou I guess ur not terrible

Eijirou ????

Eijirou did you just?? pay me????? A compliment??

Eijirou who r u and wat have you done to katsuki?

Bakugou fuck you

Bakugou just fuck you

Eijirou <3 <3 <3

Bakugou wakes up one morning, approximately 5 months after meeting Kirishima for the first time, with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

His work goes smoothly. The coffee tastes potent and fresh, his body feels fine, his plants are thriving, Camie is busy with her own deadlines and therefore not bugging him, even the sun is mellow and warm; the perfect weather.

The pit in his stomach worsens with every hour.

It doesn’t help that all of his messages to Kirishima have gone unanswered; he hasn’t even been online all day. In the months that they’ve communicated, he’s never gone a day without texting the man, and now it’s like he fell off the face of the Earth.

When it gets closer to 6 in the evening, Bakugou decides to call if Kirishima doesn’t get in touch himself. Because the pit in his stomach is making him nauseous, and he needs to know if the redhead is ok if only for the sake of his own damn health.

He gets a call from an unknown number at 5:20 in the evening. The pit in his stomach becomes a yawning chasm as he picks up the call.

“Hello?”

“Bakugou, it’s Ashido, from the bar.”

Bakugou pulls in a deep breath. “Where is Kirishima?”

“Um, there was an incident last night, at Riot.” She sighs deeply before continuing, “Kiri got jumped in the alley outside by a bunch of really drunk homophobic assholes that saw him turn down some guy’s number. He actually fought them off for the most part, but he’s sustained a broken nose and some fractured ribs. We’re at the hospital right now.”

Bakugou sinks to the ground, his stomach plummeting with him. “Are you fucking serious right now? Fuck-“

“I’ll text you the hospital details, ok? I’m sorry we didn’t call sooner, between talking to his moms and the hospital folks, it slipped my mind.”

“I’ll be there,” Bakugou says, standing up on shaky feet and stumbling back to his room. “Just don’t leave him alone.”

“Never in a million years.”

They hang up and Bakugou changes, hails a cab, and gets to the hospital in a complete daze.

His affection for the redhead, brimming and spilling from every crevice, makes itself evident when he lays eyes on him in the hospital bed and feels a surge of protectiveness. He wants to kill the people that did this, he wants to gather Kirishima in his arms and hold him tight, he wants to crawl into bed with him and talk about stupid shit and see him smile again.

“He’s pretty high on pain meds right now,” Ashido says from somewhere behind him, pointing to his IV lines, “so he’s been saying really funny stuff. The doctors did a full evaluation and said he should recover completely in 5ish weeks.”

Bakugou nods and swallows thickly. Ashido squeezes his arm before leaving the hospital room, shutting the door behind her softly.

Kirishima hasn’t seen him yet, so Bakugou approaches his bed carefully before placing a hand on the guardrail. The noise pulls Kirishima’s attention towards him, and Bakugou’s gut tightens when those large, warm eyes go completely soft at the sight of him.

“Kassaki~” Kirishima slurs, his smile large and dopey.

“You absolute dumbass,” Bakugou chokes out, his hand moving from the rail to grip Kirishima’s tightly. Kirishima’s fingers twine with his own with practised ease and his smile turns gooey.

“Hi Kats, you look beautiful today.”

Bakugou half-laughs, half-sobs and rubs his eyes fiercely. Kirishima’s face is a bit bruised, and there’s a huge bandage on his nose, but he doesn’t look nearly as bad as Bakugou had first feared. The pit in his stomach finally calms, slowly loosening until he can breathe normally again.

“Shut up Eiji,” Bakugou grumbles, sitting down on the chair beside the bed. He leaves his hand in Kirishima’s.

“Ok,” Kirishima agrees easily. It takes 10 seconds for him to break the silence again.

“Hey Kats?”

“What?”

“Are we dating?”

Bakugou startles at that, eyes snapping over to Kirishima’s. He doesn’t look accusatory or hurt or weirded out or anything- merely curious.

“No, we’re not.”

“Oh.” Kirishima frowns, “Why not?”

Bakugou huffs out a small laugh, “Because we’re both idiots.”

“Oh,” the redhead says, then nods. “That kinda tracks.”

“HEY!”

Kirishima’s smile becomes dopey again, eyes crinkling in the most endearing way.

“I really like you Kats. You’re so smart and funny and you always smell like fabric softener, and you’re just like. Really pretty.”

Bakugou feels his face heat up completely, his grip on Kirishima’s hand tightening.

“Just rest, you dumbass,” Bakugou says weakly, his entire body too hot for comfort. He watches Kirishima’s smile become something warm and loving in a way that hits his heart, and he doesn’t let go of the redhead’s hand, right up until the end of visiting hours.

When he exits the hospital alongside Ashido, he feels the last of his energy drain.

“I cant believe we didn’t get to him sooner,” Ashido mumbles, rubbing at her eyes fiercely. “The bar was noisy, and he just wanted to dump out some trash. Hanta noticed he was gone a while before we went out back and found him punching the last dude.”

Bakugou purses his lips. Truth be told, he cant believe Kirishima had gotten so badly hurt so close to his own bar, and he’s pissed as fuck that the idiot brigade had even let it happen, but the sincerity in Ashido’s voice tugs at his chest painfully.

“I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Bakugou laughs humorlessly. “He’ll probably say there’s nothing to forgive in the first place.”

Ashido’s laugh is hollow, “That’s our Eijirou.” She looks at Bakugou again. “You coming tomorrow?”

He flashes her his best sneer. “You best believe I’m going to come by every single fucking day till he’s discharged.”

Ashido’s smile becomes a little more genuine, a little more well-rounded.

“I’m really glad he has you.” Her voice goes all soft and gross as she continues, “You mean a LOT to him, in case you didn’t already know.”

“Fuck off,” Bakugou mumbles, before waving her off and walking away.

Because he does know.

He also knows he’s falling madly in love with him, and that he’s completely and utterly screwed.

And he finds that he really doesn’t mind all that much. Some people, he rationalizes, are worth the horrible butterflies and the too hot too cold feelings down the back of his spine.

Some people, he realizes, are worth loving with everything you’ve got.

It takes Kirishima five weeks of house arrest to recover completely. Bakugou spends every weekday and a few of the weekends with him, staying over more often than not. He fusses over the redhead, forces him to take his medication on time, and cooks him everything under the sun.

“You’re spoiling me,” the redhead whines when Bakugou serves him what smells like the best mapo tofu he’s ever going to have.

The blonde grins triumphantly, “You’re damn right I am.”

They bicker and banter constantly, but they also curl up and marathon old bond movies at night. Kirishima goes over the bar’s paperwork while Bakugou works off his couch, and they take turns making the coffee. Ruby falls in love with Bakugou and curls up on his chest every chance she gets, and Bakugou laughs at Kirishima’s look of betrayal. The redhead’s couch is ridiculously comfortable, and he leaves his memory foam pillow with the blonde.

“You refuse to take my bed,” he grumbles, “so you damn well better accept my stupid pillow.”

Bakugou’s neck thanks the redhead profusely.

It’s new and weird, living with someone for the first time. Kirishima’s posse are in and out through the day, and Camie comes by just as often, bringing a change of clothes and gossip with her. Todoroki drops in with some high-quality tequila sometimes and Inasa brings his infectious energy, and through all of this, Kirishima remains in high spirits, even if he goes a little stir crazy sometimes.

It’s new and it’s weird, going from casual touches to more loving ones, more comforting ones. It becomes commonplace for Bakugou to rest his head between Kirishima’s shoulder blades on the days that he has a bad time at work. It’s normal for Kirishima to place his head on Bakugou’s lap while they watch shark documentaries. It’s easy for them to bump knees and press their calves together while enjoying their morning coffee.

It’s new and it’s weird and it’s amazing.

Because Bakugou finds himself falling in love with the little things. The way Kirishima sticks his tongue out when he’s smashing the PS5 controller during an especially intense game of Mario party, the way he makes the coffee with a sleepy smile on his face, the way he hums off-key to a song that’s stuck in his head, the way he can understand Bakugou- can differentiate between his frustrated fuck, his bashful fuck, his angry fuck, his sleepy fuck.

And how he accepts it all without so much as a hitch in his step.

Bakugou watches himself fall in love, slowly, and then all at once.

“How is it that he lived with you for almost 5 weeks and you STILL didn’t ask him out? Or kiss him stupid? Or something?”

Sero has a finger pinching the bridge of his nose, the other flexing loosely in front of his chest as he tries to fathom the stupidity of two people that could not be more into each other if they tried.

“I, I uh-“ Kirishima hangs his head, “I have no excuse.” He sighs deeply. “I was scared he’d give me a pity answer cause I was injured and everything.”

Ashido looks over her shoulder with incredulous eyes. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“Eiji, I know you love us so like, if any of us were hurt like this you’d take care of us till we were better too. But do you think someone like BAKUGOU would practically move into someone’s house to make sure they were ok if he wasn’t nuts about them? Really?”

Kirishima’s face flushes, and he waves her away. “I don’t want to read into it. He’s just a really, really, really good guy. And what we have is good, it’s great! We’re bros. Pals. Friends. It’s all good.”

Ashido continues to stare at him for another moment before throwing her hands up and yelling, “BOYS!” She stomps into the kitchen to help Satou with prep for the day.

They continue to stock up the bar, Kirishima assigned to prepping limes and the ice machine, when the door opens and someone steps in.

“Sorry, we’re not op- Bakugou?”

And there stands the blonde with the biggest bouquet of flowers – chrysanthemums and sunflowers – that Kirishima has ever seen. The redhead distantly hears the sound of a door close behind him, and suddenly they’re alone, the tension positively stifling.

“Bakugo-“

“Go on a date with me.”

Kirishima sucks in a startled breath, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Go on a date. With me,” Bakugou repeats, his neck and ears tinging the loveliest shade of red. “The romantic kind. Where we dress up and get food and drinks and fight over the bill and walk each other to the door and get super awkward before we kiss. All that shit.”

Kirishima isn’t sure how it happens- one moment he’s on this side of the bar, the next, he’s jumping across and gathering Bakugou into a tight embrace, mindful of his newly healed ribs but still unwilling to release the blonde until Bakugou returns his hug, burying his face into Kirishima’s chest.

“Is that a yes?” Bakugou mumbles when they finally pull away, his hands fisted in Kirishima’s shirt.

“In every possible language out there,” Kirishima answers, ducking down to softly kiss Bakugou on the cheek. He laughs as the blonde cusses and shoves him away and laughs even harder when Bakugou’s own smile covers his entire face, bright and open and oh so breathtaking.

That smile is Kirishima’s and Kirishima’s alone.

Eiji hiiiiiiiiiiii

Bakugou I swear to god Ei

Bakugou if you’re late for our first date I will find you

Eiji and give me a kiss? :*

Bakugou I don’t kiss people that don’t have good time management

Bakugou so fuck off

Eiji still so mean to me ☹

Eiji I want that kiss tho

Eiji so ill be ready

Eiji promise

Bakugou good

Eiji <3

Bakugou <3

Eiji :D :D :D :D :D :D

Eiji YOU LIKE ME ENOUGH TO SEND EMOJIS HU H <3333

Bakugou it will never happen again

Bakugou so fuck right off

Eiji :”D

Bakugou im outside

Eiji be right there

Eiji <3

#bnha #kiribaku #bakushima #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #flustered #boku no hero #mha #they're idiots your honor #giving out the wrong number au???#if that's a thing??????#this one's a monster y'all

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