#raised the bar masterlist
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wet nights | joel miller
pairing/AU: bfd!joel miller x female!reader – no outbreak
summary: getting beer spilled down your dress at your best friend sarah’s birthday party might not have been so bad– not when her dad can help you clean up.
warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! reader is 25 and joel is 47, reader is described as wearing a dress, swearing, use of pet names, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, exhibitionism, praise with a dash of degradation kink, one small touch of your clit, soft dom!joel, use of sir, cum play, no use of y/n
a/n: mom said it was my turn to write bfd!joel lol. basically this is just me wanting to write joel getting his cock and balls sucked bc it's what he deserves 😌 as always thank you to @dustydaddyyy for reading through this for me! and happy reading <3
main masterlist / ao3
Nodding your head to the beat of the music you gulped down a cooling sip of beer. The bar was stuffed to the brim tonight for Sarah’s birthday. Every chair and booth occupied, large groups huddled together against the walls, and a growing crowd of brave, seemingly deep enough down their drinks, dancers moved across the makeshift dance floor. Leaning against the bar right at the end, you were shielded from the continuous line of people looking for a drink to sate their thirst on this hot summer night.
You’d missed Sarah since graduation. She’d moved back to Austin to be closer to her father – a man you had still to meet even after all these years of knowing Sarah. You’d met in undergrad where you’d had a couple of overlapping classes the first year. She’d been one of those people where you’d just clicked, like a hand in a glove, you two just fit together.
Now you had moved to Austin. It wasn’t exactly planned, but you’d applied to a postgraduate program at the University of Texas, not necessarily thinking you’d get in– but then you had. Sarah had been ecstatic when you’d told her. You hadn’t seen her in person in over a year, but you couldn’t wait to live in the same city as your best friend again.
But first, her 25th birthday party.
Tonight would be your first night out as a new Austinite. Sarah had invited all her closest friends and family to her favorite bar to celebrate. You’d dreaded it a little, you weren’t gonna lie. That nagging anxiety had bubbled under your skin all week at the prospect of being the only one at the party who didn’t know anyone already. Sarah had told you not to worry though when you’d voiced your concern to her a few days ago – she’d introduce you to everyone – nothing to worry about, and she’d been right.
All Sarah’s friends had been extremely friendly and nice, and you’d been taken under their wing immediately. Quickly, your anxiety had melted away, condensing into nothing as you’d started to have a good time.
It was deep into the summer, and Austin had shown itself from its hotter side the last few days. Inside the bar everything ran hot, even with the AC on blast and with the amount of people who’d made their way inside in the last hour, looking for a good time on a Saturday night, it never stood a chance.
Trying to cool off you’d excused yourself from your new group of friends to order yourself a cold beer. One of the ACs blew cold air directly towards the bar, keeping the frantic bartenders cool as they pushed out order after order of drinks. You watched them from where you stood perfectly in the wind of the AC, glass raised to your lips when you felt a hard bump against your shoulder.
“Fuck,” you cursed as your full glass of beer spilled all down your front, staining your white summer dress.
“Shit– sorry, sweetheart.” You didn’t have time to react as your beer was lifted out of your wet hand and placed on the rough wood of the bar.
Looking up from your ruined dress you took in your beer thief as he reached across the bar for some napkins. He was older, forties maybe, maybe older if you were to take the sprinkle of salt and pepper in his hair into consideration, but he was gorgeous. A strong jaw and sculptured nose. Clad in a t-shirt and a dark pair of jeans, you thought he looked casual– not like he belonged to the rest of the birthday party. The material of his t-shirt strained against his bicep as he leaned back from over the bar – a stack of napkins now in his hand. Standing to his full height before you, you noticed just how broad he was, and it made a drop of desire pool in your core.
The man’s previous frantic movements came to a halt as he took you in for the first time; his dark brown eyes rolling down your body and leaving a trail of heat. His fist full of napkins stalled when his eyes landed on your dress, quickly diverting them with a loud clearing of his throat.
“Um– here,” he said, voice strained as he handed you the napkins.
Pulling your eyebrows together in a frown, you looked down at yourself again. The fabric was completely soaked through, and you felt a prickling heat tickle your cheeks as you realized you now looked like a walking ad for a wet t-shirt competition.
“Oh shit,” you muttered, taking the napkins from the man as you tried your best to cover yourself.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart– bumpin’ into ya like that.”
Pressing the napkins to your dress you shook your head at him, “It’s fine– eh,” you looked up from your body.
“Joel,” he introduced himself.
“It’s fine, Joel. It was an accident. I’ll just go to the restroom and try to get the stain out,” you said with a grimace, and reached for more napkins.
“Let me help ya,” he offered as he placed a friendly hand on your elbow.
As Joel guided you through the crowd towards the toilets, hand hovering at a polite distance behind your back, he continued to apologize.
“I feel terrible– let me at least pay for it if it ends up needin’ replacin’.”
Inside the bar’s toilets, you jumped up on the stone countertop lining the wall, turning the closest sink on.
“It’s okay,” you repeated as you busied yourself with trying to clean yourself up, “This isn’t the first time I’ve gotten beer spilled all over me,” you said with a teasing laugh, trying to lighten the mood a little.
Standing beside you with his hip leaning against the stone and a knee popped, Joel huffed out a strained laugh, a laugh somewhere between embarrassment and relief.
“Yeah?” He questioned, eyes falling to your working hands.
“Tell you this much– I’ve had plenty of wet nights.”
A sound escaped Joel at your words, one he quickly tried to cover up with a cough, and you realize your innuendo a second too late. When you looked up from your hands, eyes wide, you noticed that Joel’s cheeks had flushed slightly, like he was embarrassed that he’d even caught onto the innuendo you hadn’t meant to make.
“Oh! No, not like that–” you rushed, tone slightly mortified as your eyes met his, trying very hard not to stutter through the rest of your sentence, “I–uh... I only meant that I uh–... I‘ve had plenty of situations in which I’ve gotten wet–”
At this sentence, Joel raised his eyebrows in a look that seemed half-surprised, half-amused, and your stomach dropped even further into your ass in embarrassment.
“–with water!” you clarified quickly, before you scrunched up your nose in embarrassment, closing your eyes as you huffed out a laughing sigh, “There’s no way I’m getting out of this gracefully, is there?”
You heard Joel’s chuckle to your side, deep and syrupy, like the stuff you’d liked to pour over your pancakes in buckets when you were a kid.
“You’d have gotten away with it if you hadn’t started explainin’, I think,” Joel told you, his tone joking, and you chuckled bashfully, nodding before you looked up at him.
There was a moment in which you exchanged a look, before you felt the smile break over your face and you dissolved into embarrassed laughter, shaking your head as Joel laughed, too.
“Off to a great start,” you muttered in between chuckles, “First week in Austin and I’m already making passes at handsome strangers in bar bathrooms.”
“I never said I was complainin’,” Joel said jokingly, and you let out a chuckle, “First week in Austin, hm?”
“Yeah,” you said with a nod, “Here for a postgrad.”
“Smart and beautiful,” he mused, “Reckon I should spill beers more often if this is what I get in return.”
Delicate wings fluttered in your tummy at his words as a feeling of excitement filled your chest. Looking up at him with a raised teasing eyebrow you said, “Not sure spilling beer on someone is the tried and tested formula.”
“Well, that depends, really,” Joel answered back in a teasingly contemplating voice, “‘s it workin’ on you?”
Your stomach dropped slightly at his words, and when your eyes moved to meet his, he was looking at you with a look that made your insides burn.
“Maybe,” you told him with a teasing smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.
You were never usually this bold, but there was something in the way he was looking at you and the syrup-y tone of his voice. You could tell he knew what he was doing, knew exactly what to say, and you wanted more. Biting down on your bottom lip coquettishly, you leaned backwards on your arms, giving Joel a full view of the soaked front of your dress, and more specifically, everything he could see underneath.
“And what works on you, Joel?”
You watched with some satisfaction as Joel's eyes ran over the length of your chest, before he quickly redirected them to your eyes.
“You’re making it very hard to be a gentleman here, sweetheart,” he almost whispered, his eyes as dark as the Austin summer night sky. You gave a noncommitted shrug as a teasing smile tugged at your lips. Then, you leaned forward so that you were closer to him, feet dangling slightly.
“I never asked you to be,” you told him, your voice low but not quite a whisper as you looked up at him through your lashes.
Behind your rib cage your heart quickened with excitement as Joel’s darkening gaze bored into yours, and you knew you him right where you wanted him. His eyes danced over your face for a moment, before they flickered down to your lips. It almost made you stop breathing for a second, the tension in the air between you so thick you could cut it with a knife. There was just something about this man, something about Joel – and in this moment you wanted him more than you’d ever wanted anyone before.
Maybe it should’ve scared you, the speed at which you’d fallen under his spell (or was it the other way around?), but right now, with Joel’s darkening eyes staring into yours, you couldn't bring yourself to feel any fear. You could only look at him, could only feel his breath fanning over your lips and the intensity of his gaze on your face.
“You’re trouble, aren’t ya?” Joel’s voice was low, not quite a whisper, but full of deep bass.
You felt the expanse of his hand fall on your bare knee, rough and calloused over where your sundress had ridden up.
“Nothing you can’t handle.” You batted your eyelashes semi-innocently, spreading your thighs slightly, which made Joel’s mouth twitch in amusement.
“’s that so, darlin’?” He asked, taking his place between your legs, your face now only inches from his as he looked down at you with a raised eyebrow.
“Mhm,” you nodded slightly, your hand falling over his to guide it slowly up your thigh, “Don’t you wanna find out?”
As Joel’s index finger made contact with the side seam of your underwear, he closed the space between you and pressed his lips against yours. The hairs of his mustache tickled your cupid’s bow as he dove deeper, lips rolling over yours. You sat up slightly when his other hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him, your core rubbing up against his growing bulge. You whimpered against his lips at the contact, and Joel inhaled it, consuming every breathy moan and whimper.
His hand slid slowly downwards to your ass where he gave it a nice squeeze, pulling you even closer when your legs came up to wrap around his waist. He licked at your lower lip hungrily, and you opened yourself up to him to allow him to deepen the kiss. It was hot, and suffocating, and all-consuming, all at the same time. He was a great kisser, probably the best you’d kissed. His lips moved expertly over yours, soft and firm at the same time as he guided you through it.
The grip on your ass tightened again and soon you were half-way to hanging off the counter as he rocked his front steadily against your core, where your arousal had started to pool. The kisses turned needier then, shorter and desperate between quiet whines. You could feel the shape of him against you, hard and thick, and big. A wave of tickling arousal washed over you as you imagined yourself on your knees before him, the weight and taste of him on your tongue. He was so fucking hot, and you wanted him so fucking badly.
“Can I suck your cock?” you panted through frantic kisses.
Joel pulled back slightly, head tipped back to find your eyes.
“You wanna suck my cock?” he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice. You only nodded, head tipping slowly with the bite of your lip.
Joel tsk-ed, “Dirty girl,” he said and rocked his hard bulge against your core, which earned him a moan. It made a wicked grin spread across his face, like he’d just proved a point.
His hands left your body as he slowly stepped backwards – that same cocky grin adorning his features as he nodded towards one of the stalls. Jumping off the countertop, you almost tripped over your feet to follow him inside.
“Relax, baby– ain’t no need to get on your knees until after we’re inside,” he teased, holding the door open for you, bicep bulging against the fabric of his t-shirt. Fuck, he looked so hot.
“Ha-ha,” you fake-laughed at him with a teasing roll of your eyes as you stepped past him and into the bathroom stall. When the door clicked behind him, followed by the unmistakable sound of the lock turning, you felt a pair of strong hands land on your hips as he pressed his body against your back.
“I’m only teasin’,” he reassured you in your ear, his breath fanning over the shell and sending a tingle down your spine. Turning around in his hold, your own teasing smile spread across your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Yeah?” you queried with the raise of an eyebrow, “Well two can play that game, sir” you teased as you slowly sunk to your knees, missing the way Joel reacted to the title you’d assigned him.
From above Joel watched you, body relaxed and composed like he wasn’t about to get his dick sucked, but the lust in his eyes gave him away. Your teeth caught on your bottom lip as you fumbled with his belt, the sound of metal clinking bouncing off the tiles as you focused on popping the button on his jeans and pulling the zipper down. You couldn’t take your eyes off the shape of him hidden behind the denim, and it made your mouth water, your thighs squeezing together. You were mesmerized as you let your pointer finger run over the covered length of him, the cotton fabric of his boxer briefs soft under your fingertips.
For a moment, you couldn’t believe what you were about to do – suck a man you’d just met less than an hour ago off in the bathroom stall of some dingy bar? But then again, something excited you about it.
Maybe it was Joel? Or maybe it was the thrill of it all– of maybe getting caught?
“Go on, darlin’, it’s okay– be a good girl n’ take it out f’me,” Joel ordered from above, his voice dropping an octave. You looked up at him, caught the way he studied you, gauging your every move and reaction.
Then something shifted in his eyes, a flash of insecurity making its presence known, “Or don’t– we can stop f’you want– if you ain’t feelin’ it anymore.”
You shook your head before he’d even finished his sentence. God, no! You sure as hell didn’t want to stop.
“I wanna keep going, Joel,” you smiled, your fingers hooking into the elastic band of his boxer briefs.
A genuine smile bloomed across his face then, his rough hand coming down to cup your chin, “That’s good, baby,” he said, swiping his thumb slowly over your skin, before he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.
“Know you’ll be good f’me, won’t you?” he whispered against your lips, drawing a breathy whine from you at the praise.
“Yes,” you sighed, almost breathless as he kissed you again quickly before he murmured against your lips, “Yes, you will, darlin’– you’re gonna choke on my cock ‘n thank me for it, won’t ya?”
He was driving you mad with all these questions. In just a few minutes, this man had turned you inside out, pushed every button to turn you on– you were practically swimming in your panties, your mind clouded in hazy arousal.
You didn’t know what to do, and not thinking clearly, you chased his lips.
“Nuh-uh,” Joel chuckled, pulling away slightly, “lemme hear you say it, sweetheart.”
“Yes,” you sighed again, “thank you for giving me your cock.”
“Thank you for giving me your cock, what?”
This manwas relentless.
“Thank you for giving me your cock, sir?” you tried, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip.
Pleased, a satisfied grin pulled at Joel’s lips. He rewarded you with a quick kiss before he pulled away, standing to his full height again.
You couldn’t wait any longer, you needed to touch him. Hooking your fingers into the elastic band of his boxer briefs again, you slowly pulled them down, revealing inch by inch of the base of his fat cock.
He was big, and the sight made your mouth water, but what excited you the most was the weight of his heavy balls.
“Fuck,” you whispered, eyes wide with fascination.
His hand found the back of your neck in a grounding hold as he guided you closer, your lips bumping against his tip. “Give it a kiss, baby… just like that,” he praised as you did exactly what he wanted, placing a kiss to his cock the same way you’d kissed his lips.
Over you, you could hear Joel release a content breathy chuckle, “That’s so good, baby, such a good girl.”
Egged on by his praises, you shifted a little on your knees, steadying your hands on his thighs as you pooled a blob of spit in your mouth that you let drip down the head. Joel watched you intensely as you used your dominant hand to slowly work the spit over his length, earning yourself a strained grunt. He grew even harder in your hand as you familiarized yourself with the weight and size of him in your hand.
“Wanna taste it, sir,” you said and placed another soft kiss to the head, swiping your tongue over the slit to taste the precum that had started to pearl.
“Yeah?” he taunted, almost degrading, “You wanna taste my cock that badly?”
“Y-yes,” you whined, looking up at him through your lashes.
Joel watched you for a beat before he tapped at the hand wrapped around him, shooing it away as he fisted himself. “Open wide then, honey, ‘f you want it that bad,” he said, slapping his cock against the side of your face.
Your mouth dropped open in an instance as Joel stuffed his cock inside your mouth slowly. You opened up as wide as you possibly could, relaxing your jaw to accommodate the size of him in your mouth. It was a wide stretch, and the tip touched the back of your throat far too soon, making you gag around the head.
He pulled back to let you breathe for a moment, before he sunk back down your throat again, a large and grounding hand resting at the back of your head. The second time you were more prepared to take him, holding him in your throat for a few moments longer before you started to gag. Over you, Joel let out a strained grunt; the noise sending a bolt of arousal straight to your core.
After that, Joel let you take the lead.
You started out slow, taking the head into your mouth as you let your spit-covered fingers glide over his shaft in an experimental tug. Under your fist, a slick sound echoed off the tiles with every jerk of his cock. You made sure his cock was thoroughly coated in your spit as you set a steady rhythm. You let your tongue glide over the underside of his tip, his hips bucking when you dipped your tongue into the slit.
It was sloppy, and wet, and the noises coming from your throat were entirely too obscene as you started bobbing your head, taking him down your throat.
“That’s a good girl,” Joel praised you, helping guide his cock down your throat with the hand resting at the back of your head. “You love suckin’ cock, don’t you? Love havin’ a big cock fill up that tight throat?”
Suddenly, you heard the muted music coming from the bar grow louder before dying again at the sound of the door slamming shut. You stilled your movements in panic as you heard someone slip into the stall to your right. Your eyes met Joel as you slipped his cock out your mouth, but to your surprise he looked far from concerned about the new audience.
Stretching his neck he turned his head in the direction of the occupied stall, while he wrapped his fist around the base of his cock. Even in his hands it looked big, and you started to wonder how you’d ever managed to fit it down your throat. A beat passed before he turned his head to look at you again, a wicked grin coating his lips as he bobbed his cock in your face, rubbing the head over your closed lips before he slapped it lightly against your cheek.
“Open up,” he mouthed with another light slap to your cheek. His actions made a tingle of arousal spread throughout your body, and you realized in shock how much the thought of getting caught turned you on.
You did as Joel said and opened your mouth for him to feed you his cock again. He watched you very closely this time, letting you ease yourself down his cock at your own pace, trying your best to be quiet. When the very tip of your nose made contact with the thatch of coarse dark hair at the base and your lips were snug around his cock, Joel couldn’t help himself. The grounding hand at the back of your head held you down as he shoved himself as deep as he possibly could down your throat, his balls bouncing against your chin at the movement.
To your right you heard the unmistakable sound of a toilet being flushed and a lock being twisted. Your eyes welled up with tears, your vision fogging over as you tried your best to fight against your gag reflex. Over you, Joel watched you with a proud smirk on his lips. When the sound of the sink turning on echoed through the restroom, you allowed a whimpering gag to escape you as you squeezed your eyes shut.
It shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it did, but the thrill of getting caught choking on an older man’s cock, a man who was essentially a stranger, made you wonder if you could come untouched. You were so close already, just a flick of your clit would send you off the edge of bliss.
Your eyes were about to roll back into your head when Joel finally pulled back. You gasped violently for air at the exact moment the door opened, filling the toilets with loud music for a moment before you and Joel were locked away again in your own little world. Like you were on autopilot, your hand slipped between your thighs to find your clit, and soon you were withering with your orgasm.
“Oh, there you go, honey, come all over those fingers f’me, just like that,” you heard Joel say, though the force of your orgasm made it seem like he was far away, like your ears were filled with cotton.
When you finally calmed down, you steadied yourself with a tug at Joel’s jeans – the fabric rough under your fingertips. Over you Joel fisted his cock as he watched you with a wild look in his eyes.
“Goddamn, baby, you’re so fuckin’ hot comin’ like that just from gettin’ your throat fucked.”
“Thank you, sir,” you managed to let out, your voice strained and hoarse.
Realizing he must’ve been close, you sat up straighter on your knees, ready to pull him off the edge too. Leaning forward, you stuck out your tongue, licking a fat strip up the seam of his balls to the underside of his shaft. His cock jumped in his hand as Joel let out a breathy laugh.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he muttered, “Look me in the eyes honey– look me in the eyes when you lick my balls.” Joel jerked his cock above your face as you continued to lick at his heavy balls – your eyes locked with his.
“Look so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he choked out through groans, “Suck on ‘em, baby, suck on my balls.”
Blinking up at him you tried your best to fit one of them in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and sucking greedily and lapping at the skin, before you moved on to treat the other with the same amount of love.
Joel’s mouth dropped open in a gape, his breath coming out quicker and more staggered. He squeezed himself harder at the base with each jerk before skating his thumb over the swollen head, massaging it.
“Fuck,” he panted, “I’m gonna come, baby, I’m gonna fuckin’ come.”
Popping his balls from your mouth you hurriedly sat up in front of him, the tip off his cock brushing over the plump of your bottom lip with every thug of his cock.
“Please, sir,” you begged, “Please, come in my mouth.”
Joel wasn’t one to deny your request, especially not when you were sat so pretty in front of him with your tongue sticking out.
A second later, Joel shoved his cock in your mouth and came – balls drawn tight as he shot his load down your throat. The force of it made you gag a little at first, the restriction around his sensitive cock only making him come harder. He groaned above you as you sucked him dry, before he pulled back when it was too much, and caught his breath.
“Say Ah,” he said, a gentle but firm hand cupping your jaw. The squeeze of his fingers made your mouth drop open to reveal the cum coated on your tongue and where it pooled at the back of your throat. “Don’t swallow– Let me see, darlin’.”
Your smile fought against his grip. Sticking your tongue out the best you could, you let him see the state he’d left you in; chin coated in saliva, tears starting to dry on your cheeks, mouth puffy and fucked, and marked in this stranger’s cum.
“Pretty as a picture,” he tutted before he let go of your jaw, and with a pat to your cheek finally gave you permission to swallow.
After that it was like the spell had broken between you. Joel helped you to your feet, both of you giggling when your legs wobbled like a foal unsteady on its feet. He held you upright with a strong hand to your waist, while the other one traveled up the length of your body to cup your face, and bring it closer to place a slow and sensual kiss to your lips.
“Would you believe me if I told you I’d never done anything like that before?” You asked him a moment later as he helped you clean your face by the sink.
Joel gave you a look in the mirror.
“You don’t?” you exclaimed.
Joel gave you an infuriatingly casual shrug, “It ain’t your first time suckin’ dick that’s for sure,” he teased with a pinch to your side which made you jump.
Giving him a playful shove, you said, “I’m not lying! I’ve never had a one-night stand.”
“Well, the night’s still young,” Joel joked, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and dipping his head to place a soft kiss to the column of your neck.
You leaned into his touch, feeling the soft grip of his hands on your body, and the soft presses of his kisses as you watched the two of you in the mirror. You found that you liked the reflection looking back at you, and if you were lucky, you hoped he liked it too; maybe enough to want to see you again.
“I can’t go back out there like this,” you said after a moment.
Your dress had finally dried, but so had the beer – staining it yellow.
Joel lifted his head from your neck to rest his chin on your shoulder as his eyes scanned your body in the mirror.
“I have a flannel in my truck I can borrow you?”
“More layers in this heat?” you questioned, already sweating at the thought.
A wide grin spread across Joel’s face, full of mischief, “I guess I’ll just have to take ‘em off of you later, then.”
Turning around in his hold, you wrapped your hands around his neck, your fingers toying with the hair curling at his neck as you met his eyes. “That doesn’t sound so bad,” you whispered, painfully aware of the wet stain of arousal soiling your panties and sticking to your cunt.
“No, it doesn’t,” Joel hummed, his eyes crinkling as he smiled.
“Wanna get out of here?” you asked and brushed your lips over his.
A moment later Joel guided you out the restrooms with a protective hand resting at the small of your back. Weaving through the crowd, you’d made your way almost to the exit when you heard a shout of your name over the music.
“There you are!” Sarah shouted again as she moved through the crowd towards you and Joel, arms reached out to the sky.
“Oh! And you’ve finally met my dad!”
i hope this was okay and that someone liked this? as always feedback as a comment, in the tags, as an ask or reply is very much appreciated, and they make me super happy! <3 i'm very curious to hear your thoughts about this! <3
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller one shot#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us smut#tlou fanfiction#tlou smut#bfd!joel miller#dom!joel miller#pedro pascal#*writing
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HAPPY MARRIAGE
- nanami kento x reader
“you don't deserve to be unhappy. and i don’t want to be unhappy, either.”
you have always wondered where did you and kento go wrong. in the wake of your divorce, as you both returned to single lives, you and kento would come to realize what constitutes a happy marriage is... and it takes more than just love
genre:
post-divorce angst, crack, misunderstandings, arguments, hurt/comfort, bestfriend!gojo is going to help your love life, and fluff in the end!
note:
this fic... goes through a major change overnight after i was struck with a wholly different plot *sobs* and then i went through a major writing block for at least a week before i know what words i'm going to write :') anyways, this isn't really proofread so please forgive any typos
to the anon who requested this and others, i do hope you'll enjoy it! tagging @tiredkitten as per request <3
listen to: today more than yesterday - kim jong kook
a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
No divorce ever comes easy.
When couples enter into marriage, they do so with the dream of a lifelong bond filled with love and compassion. You too did once. And even until now, you still want that for yourself.
When you married Nanami Kento three years ago, you thought it was for eternity. He was your dream man, the only man you could see yourself with. He embodied everything that was just and righteous, and he was also kind man, who would always put you first, shielding you from any sort of harm.
Even if the source of that ‘harm’ turned out to be himself.
“You don't deserve to be unhappy. and I don’t want to be unhappy, either.”
Strangely, you didn't resent Kento that much, in the end. At that time, both of you had come to terms with it and you couldn't blame anyone. But now, six months later, as you sat in this shabby bar, downing shots of gin with your thoughts swirling in an alcohol-induced haze, your emotions were all over the place, and moreover, the presence of a certain clown before you was just particularly irksome, and you knew that he was someone you could blame—
“Gojo, you prick!”
Gojo raised one righteous eyebrow. "Who, me? Sorry, but I'm not your ex-husband?"
Gojo Satoru was the witness to several milestone in your life. Insufferable as he was, somehow you clicked with him ever since your early days as a jujutsu sorcerer. You remembered sending him your handpicked wedding invitation, having him celebrating your promotions, and then coming to him with tears running down your face in the middle of the night, telling him, “We are getting a divorce.”
"You!" you snapped, slamming down your glass of gin, whipping your head around to face the blindfolded idiot that was your longtime friend. Your index finger accusingly aimed at him. "This is all your fault!"
"Wha—"
"Because of you!"
"Okay, now it's clear that you're just too far gone—"
You hiccupped, your tone laced with fiery emotion. "If it weren't for you—if you hadn't been so adamant about setting us up back then—!"
Gojo grimaced. Ah, so this was the so-called drunken musings. While it was amusing to see his friend of 7 years in this state, even he couldn't deny how a tad bit pitiful you were.
"...then maybe," you started to deflate, eyes watering and lips trembling, sniffling. "I-I won't have to go through this..."
Correction, you were so pitiful you had no idea. But still, as a longtime associate, he couldn't bring himself to abandon you there, wallowing in your sorrows all alone.
He sighed and patted your back. "There, there... what about I introduce you to other guys, hmm? See if it'll lessen the pain away?"
You shot him a look so hateful despite your bleary vision. "No! Last time you did, it ended in a divorce for me! I refuse to let you turn me into a two-time divorcee!"
"I'm pretty sure your marriage is far from my business, I'm just your kind-hearted, handsome broker—"
"Bah! You— tasteless prick!"
You burped loudly afterwards and Gojo winced, and then you suddenly (and theatrically, he might add) slumped face-down onto the table with a thud, passed out in all your drunken glory.
And Gojo could only stare at you in somewhat disbelief.
. . .
He thought then, that you were definitely going to owe him one after this.
More often than not, throughout the past six months, Nanami also found himself thinking about you too.
Despite his calm exterior, separation with you didn't come easy for him. There was a reason he married you in the first place—he had loved you, and he too wanted it to last. You used to be the reason he went home on time each and everyday, the reason he eagerly anticipated spending his weekends with.
Everything had fallen apart before either of you realized it. Some disagreements suddenly spiraled into lonely nights, no updates during longer missions, your tears, and then ended with both of you filing the papers in the city hall to end it all.
Six months ago, he thought he was final with his decision. He thought it was the best as he was faced with the sight of your tear-streaked face.
“Kento, I’m not asking m-much, am I?” you asked between sobs, wiping your tears harshly. “Aren’t w-we family? Shouldn’t we be doing a lot of things—together?”
Recalling that moment now, it tugged at his heartstrings anew. Yet, despite everything...
“I’m telling you, I know my limits—”
“Is that all you have to say? Don’t you know how sick with worry I am?” you ended up shouting at him, voice quivering. “Put yourself in my shoes and think: how can I possibly sleep at night, constantly fearing that my husband might—” your voice broke, fresh tears flowing freely. “—might not come back?!”
He was the one who backed away first, who made you lose all hope, and ultimately, placed the sentence upon you.
“If you don't have it in you to... then, perhaps it's for the best that we... just get a divorce.”
"Nanami-san, you okay?"
He looked up from the sizzling barbeque grill pan to his junior, Ino Takuma, who looked concerned as he flipped the meat. "You have been staring into space for a while..."
"I'm fine, Ino-kun." He looked down and grabbed the tongs, flipping his side of beef.
Ino let out a sympathetic sigh. "Honestly, lately, you seem down."
Words he was holding back were "ever since your divorce", but Ino was pretty sure his senior understood the implicaton.
Nanami hummed. "Sometimes life just doesn't go as swimmingly... I'm fine."
Ino never really knew you that well and was curious. In fact, he was so very curious. When it comes to Nanami Kento, everything he does and has done is always with justified and sound reason, but he might be biased because the 7:3 sorcerer was his role model.
It might verge on invading his privacy, but—
"They said... Gojo-san was your matchmaker back then?" he went through with the question anyway, testing the waters. "I don't mean to pry, but I just thought it's cute."
To Ino's surprise, Nanami's lips curled into a small smile. "It's fine, Ino-kun. I think it has become common knowledge by now. Yeah... he was."
"For you to have fallen for someone who was Gojo's acquaintance... it speaks volumes about how charming Y/N is."
"Mmm," he nodded slightly as he indulged in the grilled meat. "She is."
"Nanami-san." Okay, Ino was starting to think that he wouldn't be getting his point across if he went the roundabout way. He would shoot it straight then. "I don't mean to patronize you... but if you're really that miserable, then I think you should go back to her and talk things out, no?"
Nanami put down his chopsticks and let out a soft sigh, making Ino to immediately regret his blatant suggestion.
"Before arriving at such a difficult decision, of course we did try to discuss some things," he explained, his gaze meeting his calmly. "I don't take matters like divorce lightly, Ino-kun."
"But still... now—"
To drove the point home, Nanami chose to vocalize the conclusion that still left a bitter taste in his mouth to this day:
"She is unhappy with the way things are, and I have to come to terms with the fact that I can't provide what she needs."
Ino's gaze fell in dejection. "Nanami-san..."
Nanami chuckled fondly. “I appreciate your concern, Ino-kun. Thank you.”
In front of his junior, he could maintain composure and narrated the collapse of his own marriage as if he were a mere spectator. But in his heart of hearts, Nanami Kento wasn’t at all the stoic man he made everyone believed he was—the fact that he had failed to give you the life of happiness he promised on the day he proposed to you still stung him to this day.
It hurt him, but echoing your words, he couldn't subject you to a marriage that felt like a dull cohabitation with little understanding.
“We never really talk anymore, do we...? We never really work on our problems too. Kento, lately, I feel like... things have changed.”
Suppose what he had to do was letting you go now.
It was easier said than done, because when Nanami saw you the next day at the school—this being the first time in several weeks—he almost couldn’t keep his cool.
"Ichiji, don't be too stiff!" you slapped the poor guy in the back with a giggle. "It's just me, it's been a while!"
You didn't look much different than the last he saw you—still the chirpy self he unwittingly fell in love with, staying on top of the latest fashion trends and all. Yet, there was definitely something different about you, something he just couldn't quite identify...
And then those cheerfulness deflated when your gaze met his, eyes widening as you tried to get your bearings. "Oh—h-hi, Kento."
That's too forced. It was so unnatural that made him almost wince.
"Hello." But the tremble in his voice, too, betrayed him. "Have you been well?"
You shifted your gaze away from him, and right before you answered, you let out a cough, and that was when he spotted it: you looked kind of pale.
"I'm fine."
"Oh, that's good then."
Silence. This was the absolute worst.
Nanami exhaled. It was you he was talking to, his ex-wife. He knew you inside out—or at least, he used to. He knew you didn't like this dryness as much as he did. He had to say something.
He braved himself. "Are you here for a mission?"
You looked at him in slight surprise. "Oh... yeah."
Darn it. Another dry reply.
"There... is a cursed totem in North Tokyo," you elaborated, not really looking at him. "Gojo's out from tomorrow until next week. I'm substituting for him to assist the first years."
"Are you sure you're up for that?" Nanami found himself asking before he could stop. "I mean no disrespect, but you look a bit pale."
"I am," you snapped, leaving him surprised. It was as though he had unintentionally struck a nerve, quickly turning your mood sour. "I'm fully capable of handling this, Kento."
"Please, I don't mean to upset you. I'm just..."
Worried about you. Somehow his throat closed in, it didn't really feel right to say that now.
"—I know how rash you can be." He regretted his words as soon as they were out.
It was clearly a bad choice of words as you took offense, your expression quickly turned into one of disdain.
"How rich... that it's coming from you," you scowled.
Memories of your failed marriage flooded your mind's eye. The long nights your ex-husband didn't bother to leave you a message. How he would return home with wounds and blood staining his clothes. And now... he had the nerve to insinuate that you were the reckless one?
"I can take care of myse—"
"That's a whole load of bullshit!"
Good grief. Why must Gojo pick this exact scene to show up?
The blindfold took big strides and halted between the two of you, pointing one finger in your face.
“Last night, she got wasted. Like totally wasted! She could barely walk straight afterwards and then she had the audacity to blame me! Me! For all her mess! Goodness, I’m just a very chivalrous friend and yet—”
"Shut up!" you were horrified, face flushed with embarrassment. "Gojo, you complete jerk!"
Nanami wouldn't admit it, but there was always something between you and Gojo Satoru that made him a bit uncomfortable, even way back when the two of you were still married. Perhaps the closeness, the candidness you shared. He knew you wouldn't harbor anything for someone as elusive as Gojo Satoru, but still, it remained an uncomfortable sight for him.
Like there was nothing pleasant about knowing Gojo Satoru was the one taking care of you in your drunken stupor. You shouldn't have in the first place. If it were him, he wouldn't let you hurt yourself. If he were still the one by your side—
Despite himself, thoughts like that swirled in his mind far often than he would've liked.
Suddenly, the air felt stifling. Nanami didn't like this at all, and even as you two were still harmlessly bickering, he chose to leave.
"Oiii, Nanami!"
He had barely left the room when the person he disliked the most emerged from the door, following closely behind him. Gojo evidently knew what his thoughts were. As irritating as he was, the bloke was smart, he wasn't the strongest for nothing.
"Na-na-mi! You can't just leave like that! We're going to have lunch together—"
"Gojo-san," Nanami stopped in his tracks and let out an exasperated sigh, throwing the white-haired idiot a glare so hard it would curse him if only glares could. "Please stop bothering me."
“How cold-hearted,” the blindfold replied in a mocking scoff. “No matter how, she was once your wife. How could you not care one bit?”
“We have gone on our separate ways, and if she is good with the way things are, then so am I.”
What a lie. He still couldn't help but to care. If you ever needed his help in whatever way even now, he would still move heavens for you.
“And that’s where you’re wrong, Nanami,” Gojo suddenly interjected in a less playful manner. “She is really missing you, you know.”
But you had your best friend by your side, didn't you? Someone perfect, without equal. Surely, you wouldn't need him anymore.
Gojo raised an eyebrow. "How are you so sure that she's good with the way things are?"
"What exactly is she not good with?"
"Everything? You never ask her."
This was getting irritating, and before Nanami really lost control over himself, he finally drew a line.
"Gojo-san, I'm tired of people assuming things about our current relationship," he said, leveling a piercing look at him. "We are both adults. We reached the decision to separate because we both know why. If this is your way of showing concern, then thank you—but I'd prefer if you didn't interfere any further. We're handling this just fine, and by all means, I think people should stop associating us anymore."
With that, he left. Even when he wanted to stay longer with you, even when, in his wildest dreams, he wanted to rebuild everything with you again—
He knew you were there, hearing all of this.
Gojo clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed. "Grr... You're so stubborn..."
. . .
There was a reason why you went to the school. Yaga's sudden request and of course, the chance to see Nanami again.
But when your conversation ended in a bitter note and he walked away, a part of you plunged into instant panic, compelling you to eavesdrop on his conversation with Gojo.
But as expected from you cool ex-husband, he was all rationale and logic.
By all means, I think people should stop associating us anymore.
Nanami would think so, wouldn't he? And he wouldn't be bothered either.
You shouldn't have expected more. This was no television drama in which the couple would get back together that easily. You were living in the harsh reality of jujutsu world, which basically, was the cause of your divorce in the first place.
At one point, you found it all to be exhausting, but upon reflection, it was more painful to acknowledge that he never truly fought to keep you by his side.
Tears welled up in your eyes unbidden, and you walked away quickly, brushing them away.
This is it. There is no use hoping anymore.
If you weren't on missions, then you'd likely be drinking. This had been the undeniable truth over the past few weeks.
Gojo found both you and Nanami to be irritating. The way both of you would evade each other was just plain stupid by this point, since it was clear to anyone with eyes that you were still not over each other.
"Nanami! Why don't you join us for dinner tonight!"
And since you were such an irritable drunk, he chose to keep poking the easier target.
Nanami shot him a scathing look, definitely done. "I have a prior appointment. Goodbye."
"Hoh?! But! They'll have free drinks!"
For the life of him, Nanami just wanted to go back home. He had minus interest in free drinks and even less in Gojo himself, and he would make his points clear.
"For the last time, I'm telling you, I don't want any part in your—"
Ring! Ring! Ring!
"Ooh, wait a minute, Nanamin! I got a call!"
Nanami gritted his teeth in pure annoyance. He truly didn't care about his call and seized the chance to walk away quickly, eager to flee.
Until—
"Hello? Yes. Yes... what? Huh— Y/N is rushed to hospital?"
...and that caused him to halt abruptly. Suddenly, his entire body went rigid, as if he had been doused with a bucket of cold water.
You're hurt?
"I mean why—the hell? Severe bleeding?!" Gojo's voice dramatically rose, seemingly in surprise. "Whoa, uh, traffic accident?!"
Within seconds, everything as he knew it came to an end. He spun around, yanking the phone from Gojo's grasp, indifferent to whether it caught the latter off guard or not.
"Which hospital is this?" he demanded from the person on the other end, his voice rough and harsh. Suddenly, the fog in his mind dissipated, and he was consumed by panic.
"I'm sorry, sir, that's not—oh, it's Tokyo General Hospital—"
"Thank you." Nanami shoved the phone back to Gojo and broke into a sprint, in search of taxi.
At this moment, everything was a plethora of chaos—his surroundings melded into a blur, the constant honking of nearby vehicles echoed in his ears, and the relentless pounding in his chest threatened to overwhelm him. Nothing else held any significance. Nothing, except you.
Why did you get hurt? How did you even get into a traffic accident?
This was maddening. His world was falling apart hard and fast. The beginnings of heartbreak, stirring and churning in the depths of his stomach, once again threatened to drown him whole—
To others it may seem laughable that he was this shaken over an ex-wife, but precisely because you were his ex-wife was why he was running through the streets of Shibuya, opting not to take the cab as the traffic jam was at its peak.
Oh, how Nanami regretted it. He regretted a multitude of things; those long nights, silent treatments, your tears, divorcing you. If he could turn back the time, he'd do anything in his power to prevent that divorce from ever happening. He'd treasure you better, he'd make time for you more—
Because what if, now you were really slipping away from him for good? What if, he would never see you ever again?
Within minutes, he arrived at the said hospital, haggard, spooking the nurses, demanding your room number.
Thank heavens that the visiting hour wasn't over yet. He marched towards the said room, all of his logic and rationale flying out of window as he threw open the door.
And then he saw the pristine bed, IV drip, and you—
Sitting upright on the bed, turning a page of a magazine, your eyes widening and blinking at him in complete confusion—
Huh, what?
The last thing you would expect after waking up in the hospital was your ex-husband barging in unannounced, looking as though he'd just survived a whirlwind.
"Kento...?" you almost squeaked, taken aback at the sight.
His hair was a sweaty mess, his usually immaculate suit was crinkled and his tie was loosened, but it was the look in his eyes that grabbed your attention—as if expecting the worst.
“Are you alright?” he grounded out, approaching you in deliberately slow steps. “How long has it since you woke up?”
“Um... yes? Since about an hour or so.” You frowned. “Kento, what are you doing here?”
“They said you have severe bleeding, involved in an accident—”
“What! No! Did the hospital reach out to you?” you felt a bit uncomfortable at the thought. “I was sure I have removed you from my emergency contacts—”
“Gojo did—”
Suddenly, understanding dawned on him, and he cursed under his breath. “That rotten bastard!”
You blinked, unsure of what he meant at all. To his credit, Nanami didn’t dwell long on his thoughts and faced you once again with another fresh batch of confusion. “Wait, Gojo is your emergency contact? Why?”
“Should anything happen to me and a payment is required to settle it, he can handle the bills first?”
If Nanami didn’t look exasperated before then he sure did now. “Y/N… you…”
He released the deepest sigh imaginable before settling onto the sofa, further tousling his hair and removing his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.
“Did you know I ran to get here because I thought something bad happened to you?” Nanami stated in a strained voice.
Why did your heart skip a beat? Why was Nanami suddenly playing the part of a concerned husband when the time for it has long passed?
Feeling suddenly irritated, you rolled your eyes. “I just passed out due to high blood pressure. It’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal?” his eyes squared on you, quiet anger behind them. “In what sense does you passing out ever ‘not a big deal’? What have you been doing?”
"Why does that even matter to you still?" you contested. "You were the one who said everyone should stop linking us together by now."
"Y/N, you're missing the—"
"You divorced me!" you screamed, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as the urge to cry threatened to consume you. "You... h-have divorced me, Nanami Kento!"
Nanami felt as if a blade had pierced and twisted his chest at the sight of you—your quivering form, the stifled sobs. He had never wished to see you in such despair again.
"So why!" you finally broke down and sobbed. "Why did you play the caring husband now? Why not before? Why do you keep toying with my feelings...?"
"I'm not." Nanami grunted, getting up and approaching your bed. "I never meant to. That was never my intention. I never—"
"Then what!? What are you doing? Why did you throw me out just like that and why now—"
"Believe me when I said that I never want you to be miserable!"
You halted mid-rant, eyes wide as you gazed at him. Blinking, you felt a tear roll down your cheek. It was the first time Nanami had ever raised his voice at you. Even in the past, he never had.
But suddenly, a sharp pain pierced through your abdomen, causing you to instinctively clutch it. You whimpered, a nearly involuntary squeak escaping you, feeling the intense burn inside.
Nanami immediately got a hold of your hunched form, alarmed. "What is it? What hurts?" When all you could manage were pained sniffles in response, he swiftly hit the nurses' button and enveloped you in his embrace.
"Hold on," he comforted, placing a hand over where you clutched your abdomen, trying to offer some relief in any way. "They'll be here soon, don't pass out!"
"Mmngh," you gripped his hand in response, squeezing it as you slumped into his chest. For the first time in six months, you were enveloped in his warmth once again, and despite everything that had transpired, you were deeply moved by his gesture.
It took seeing you in such distress to dispel any doubts Nanami may have had. You were so petite against him, so delicate as you squirmed amidst your tears.
Had you experienced pain like this in the past six months? The thought made his heart lurch. Did no one comfort you at all?
. . .
And that was when he decided it.
He never, ever wants to see you in any sort of pain, ever again. And should it happen, then he'll be the one staying by your side, just like this.
Alcoholic gastritis. You consumed so much alcohol that it irritated your ulcer and causes a really painful tummy ache.
You could feel Nanami's judging gaze on you as your attending doctor explained your predicament. Truth to be told, you were quite ashamed. Your unhealthy lifestyle were laid bare before your ex-husband and it made you feel like a kid being scolded for misbehaving.
After the doctor left, Nanami sighed and pulled out a chair next to your bed. "Are you feeling better now?"
"Yeah..." you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. "Sorry, that... you have to see that."
But thankfully, he was unflappable as ever. "Nothing to be sorry about. It's fine."
You were kind of embarrassed of your outburst earlier too. While you didn't regret expressing your feelings, you pondered if could've done it in a less confrontational way.
At this point, you'd accept anything. Even if Nanami told you off after this—
"Let me continue from what I was saying earlier," he suddenly began, catching your attention. You perked up, and looked at him expectantly.
Nanami released a deep sigh, and the words he spoke next were ones you never thought you'd hear from him again.
"Did you remember what I said when I proposed our divorce?" he asked, somewhat rhetorically. You wordlessly nodded, because it was one of the lines that made you unable to hate him completely.
"I said, you don't deserve to be unhappy." Nanami looked you right in the eyes, undaunted. "And that still stands until now."
Now fully engrossed in his words, the rhythm of your heart intensified, echoing in your chest.
"It wasn't a decision I blurted out lightly. I know you're hurt, because I am too. I married you with a reason. I have loved you. and if you were to ask me now, my answer would be the same—I am still in love with you."
Why did it feel like your vision was beginning to blur once more?
"But," Nanami's face contorted into a frown, gazing hard at you. "If staying with me is what makes you miserable—if waiting nights after nights, hoping I can make it each time haunts you so much—then I'm more than willing to release you from that burden. I don't want to subject you to that life."
Warm tears slid down your cheeks. Sniffling, you averted your gaze, looking downwards.
"Look, I make you cry again," he sighed, a mix of fondness and sadness in his voice, as a bitter smile graced his lips. One of his thumbs gently lifted your jaw, while the other tenderly wiped away your tears.
"Kento, I—" you quickly looked up, swallowing the lump in your throat. You had made up your mind. "I don't want you to leav—"
"I know," he cut in, his voice solemn, as he stroked your tear-streaked cheeks. "I know, and that's exactly why I'm going to say what I'm about to say next."
And with his next words, your heart burst into complete, utter warmth—
"Let's start over." Nanami Kento's voice was your lifeline, anchoring you and keeping you afloat. "We can take our time. There's no rush—we can return to how things were in the beginning. And when you're ready, then and only then... will I ask you to marry me again."
The one person who has your heart in his grasp, someone whom you are willing to care way more than yourself... You were openly sobbing now and yet a radiant smile broke through your tears.
There was only one answer you had in mind.
Five years later
"Yes! Yes! Yay!"
Today was sunny, just like the day of your wedding. Memories flooded back as you glanced at the grand wedding portrait in the foyer, a snapshot of yourself and your husband in blissful celebration.
A smile tugged at your lips as you stared at the gentle smile on Kento's face amidst his typically stiff posture. You remembered his vows to you.
The one person who I will look for the rest of my life... is you. I have never met someone so important and precious to me that it hurts.
The sound of a car pulling up snapped you out of your reverie. Oh, he's home.
As you opened the door, your smile grew even broader, until a small figure darted past you at such speed that you were left gawking.
"Daddy!" your daughter's voice rang out with pure delight, leaping into your husband's arms the moment he swung the car door open, catching him off guard.
"Oh my, why are you so sweaty?" Kento inquired, scrutinizing your daughter with a puzzled frown, yet holding her close. "I thought we're going to the playground after this?"
"She's so excited for it that she keeps running and jumping around all the while," you chimed in with a gentle sigh, affectionately ruffling your daughter's hair as she beamed up at both of you.
Before long, the three of you set off to the playground, fulfilling the promise you had made to your daughter. As she entertained herself with the slides, Kento's low chuckle drew your attention. "What's so funny?"
"She takes after you a lot, you know," he remarked, a fond smile on his face. "The way she is just full of energy."
"Really? But sometimes she'll get this wrinkly little scowl on her face when she's annoyed—she looks like you then."
"Wrinkly...? No, surely I don't have that many wrinkles yet..."
Your laughter filled the air, a testament to the joy found in these simple, everyday moments.
Unexpected moments of joy, the comfort of family, and a love that had grown and evolved, stronger and more resilient with time...
And this, is what you'd call a happy marriage.
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Best I Ever Had
Jackson!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 2.3k
Summary: Someone tries to hit on you on your night out with Joel, insulting your man in the process, and oh you don't like that. You blow off some steam in more ways than one.
Content/Warnings: Reader is able-bodied, no physical descriptions. Feminine perception of reader and feminine pet names (Joel calls you mama and babygirl), but no pronouns used. Reader's a fucking badass and can hold their own fights (probably Joel's too, tbh). Slight description of reader getting physical/violent with another person (bby has some anger issues). Established relationship. Implied age gap (exact number unspecified). A bit of insecure Joel. 18+ MDNI! Dom!reader !! Sub!Joel !!!! P in V unprotected. Slight breeding kink (reader just likes being filled, no children talk). Joel has a fast refractory period (don't think too much on it, just enjoy). Definitely some overstimulation. Cockwarming. Riding..straddling.. Teasing. Begging. Edging. Sloppy making out. Multiple orgasms. Please let me know if there’s anything I missed that should be up here!
A/N: Some get post-nut clarity, but I get post-nut lust. This was the product of that. Hope you enjoy, my angels. Thank you @honeyedmiller for beta’ing 🩶 also I picture both game Joel or hbo Joel, so it’s entirely up to you what you wanna visualize ;)
masterlist | updates blog
It was a busy night at the Tipsy Bison. Everyone was out. Everyone was mingling, getting to know each other. As if it wasn’t a small town already, but hey, it wouldn’t hurt to make sure you really knew the people living in this little forever-town.
Except, Joel was not one to mingle—especially on nights like tonight. Tommy insisted that he come, it’ll be nice, he tried to reason.
He eventually agreed. Not because of Tommy, though, but because of you.
You knew Joel was a certified grump, through and through. And you love Joel, you really do. But the post-apocalyptic world caused you to react differently than your man. Yeah, you’ve become tougher, harder to break, harder to trust. However, you crave any sense of normalcy you can find. So on occasion, you like to go out and get to know the people of the town. You like human interaction.
And when they say opposites attract, the saying couldn’t have been more true. Joel was absolutely smitten the day he met you. It’s been a long time coming between you two—with his vulnerability, or lack thereof, and his initial unwillingness to accept that he can finally relax and unclench his jaw—but you’re together now, stronger than ever, and everything is worth it.
You are worth it.
Which is exactly why all you needed was to give one raise of your brow during his protesting before Joel promptly shuts his lips and takes a defeated breath, fixing his answer to Tommy. “Oh, hell. Alright, brother, we’ll be there.”
And to be quite honest, Joel would go as far to say that tonight’s little get together was actually decent for once. That is, until he sees you waiting on the bartender for his beer and your old-fashioned, and a man—a boy—approaches you.
“Hey,” you heard a voice beside you say. Not realizing it was meant for you, your attention stays on the bartender. Still, the voice persists. “I was thinking, uh-” you look at the guy then, eyes staring him down in a way he perceives as a challenge.
He clears his throat. “I was thinking I could buy you a drink?”
“No, I’m good,” you say shortly. The bartender comes up to you, pulling you away from the guy’s feeble attempt at flirting. You tell the bartender your order, and before you can take another moment to speak, the guy pipes up.
“Put it on my tab,” he smirks triumphantly, taking a closer step to you.
You pull yourself away on instinct— out of disgust, but your eyes stay trained on his gaze. You’re pissed, but this naïve little boy has no idea. Both of what you're capable of and what the older man, your older man, across the bar is capable of.
“Thanks,” you smile, “my boyfriend’s gonna appreciate the free drink,” you tell the guy, turning to Joel and giving him a sweet smile. You’ve been feeling his stare the second this waste of space walked up to you.
Joel would pounce if you told him to. He knows you can handle yourself, though, and you confirm it through that pretty smile you flash him. He can’t deny the way his cock twitches at the way this scene is unfolding. Part of him is begging for the guy to try something more, to test you—to unleash you.
The guy scoffs the second he sees Joel. “That old man is your boyfriend? Come on, baby,” his hand reaches for the crook of your elbow. “You can do so much better than that,” he taunts.
And that was the something more you needed. Immediately your hand takes hold of his wrist, twisting the man to face the bar in a rough fashion as you lean him over the bar counter, his arm twisted behind his back, shoulder ready to snap out of his socket with the tiniest of movements.
“Wanna say that again?” You seethe, knocking the breath from his lungs as you push him into the wooden counter.
“I said—”
He’s cut off by his own high-pitched scream. You push his arm higher, a sharp pain shooting through every nerve center in the guy’s arm.
“Sweetheart,” a southern twang says softly, but it’s not your man. Tommy. “I know he probably deserves it, darlin’, but it’s not worth it,” he says, not wanting to aggravate you more. Everyone knows not to test you.
Well, apparently not everyone.
You roll your eyes, knowing Tommy’s just trying to keep up the liveliness of tonight. “Fine,” you mutter. Leaning closer into the guy, you whisper into his ear. “Talk about my fuckin’ man like that again, and I’ll snap your shoulder so fuckin’ hard, Jackson’s doctors won’t even know what to do with ya. Ya hear me?” You’re not from the South, and before the outbreak, you’ve never even been. But get angry enough, and Joel’s twang possesses you.
You release the crying boy with a shove, and you back up, wanting to pull yourself away from the situation. Your back is met with something hard, and immediately you know who it is. You soften in his touch as his arms immediately wrap around your waist. “You alright, babygirl?” Joel rasps in your ear. You can feel his fucking hard-on pressed against your back.
The guy looks at you and Joel, chest still heaving as his face turns into disgust, a fuck you muttered under his breath, an aftertaste of jealousy on his lips.
Smiling wildly at the guy in front of you, you snake your hand up to wrap around Joel’s jaw before you turn your head back and tilt your head up, pulling Joel into an open-mouthed kiss, your tongue pushing into his mouth as he eagerly sucks it, lapping up your spit. He groans into you, his arms pulling you impossibly tighter into him.
You pull away with a harsh nip to his lip, feeding off the little whimper Joel lets out. “Baby,” he whines.
You look back to the guy, and the silent audience you’ve accumulated. “Come on, cowboy,” you breathe. “I’m not done with you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replies happily, spinning you two around and walking out with you still pressed against him.
The bar stays quiet after a beat. Tommy’s hand slaps the bar counter before he speaks. “Well. Get the music back going unless y’all wanna hear ‘em goin’ at it all night!” The bar roars in laughter, the music coming back to life.
Before returning back to Maria, Tommy turns to the guy. “You. Out.”
He scrambles without looking back.
“Oh my God, baby.”
“Fuck— I- I can’t, baby, I can’t hold it much longer, baby, I need to come.”
“Just one more second, baby.”
“Mama, please,” he cries out, his head lolling from side to side on his sweat-soaked pillow as you grind your hips into his pelvis, lifting yourself on and off him every other moment. His hands hold onto your hips, not in a way to control your movement but to simply feel you.
“Oh, come on, be a good boy for me, baby,” you moan, your hand fixing itself onto his jaw to make him look at you. “Just wanna feel you twitch inside me a little bit more ‘fore you make a mess inside me, okay?”
“Oh, fuck— yes, yes, mama, yes, okay,” he rambles, trying his hardest to breathe through the pleasurable pain as you take and take and take.
A particular grind sends your back arching, his pubes soaked in your arousal nudging perfectly against your clit, sending an electric pulse up your spine. You cry out in ecstasy, your climax hitting you instantly. “Oh fuck, oh shit- fuckfuckfuck, baby, come with me— come inside me, baby, fucking fill me,” you nearly scream, hoping that boy can hear you now.
“Shit, baby, oh my God- fuck- I’m coming, mama, holy fuck- I-” he stutters, his thigh muscles shaking underneath you as you bounce on him through his climax, the mix of his spend with yours bouncing lewdly across the walls of your shared bedroom.
Your hips come to a slow but never stop, your chest heaving as you lean down to bring your lips to Joel. You let them ghost across his lips, but you don’t let them touch. He knows better not to chase it, not yet, anyway. He can still feel you fuming.
You can do so much better than that.
“Can you fucking believe him?” You whisper against his lips, barely audible yet fucking scary nonetheless.
Joel thinks that boy is right, deep down. Even though he’d never want you to leave him, and you’d never want him to leave you. Joel thinks that there’s a crumb of moral rightness in that statement. But he keeps that to himself.
Nevertheless, you know Joel like the back of your hand. He doesn’t need to utter a lick of anything to you. You already know what he’s thinking.
“Joel,” you say again. “I asked you a question.”
All questions must be answered.
Fuck.
“Y-yeah, baby,” he rumbles, too distracted by the comments from the bar, but mainly still caught up in the way his softening come-covered cock is still nestled inside of you.
You sit up now. A whine leaves his throat at the movement. “So you do believe him?”
Only then does he realize what he said. His eyes shoot up to yours. “W-wait, no, baby, ‘m sorry, no. No, I don’t believe him, baby,” he panics.
You quirk your eyebrow at him.
“The fuckin’ audacity on ‘em,” he adds for good measure.
You’re silent for a beat. Then—
“You’re lying.”
Joel’s heart starts to race. “No, baby. Please. Mama, I’m not lyin’,” he tries.
Still straddling his hips, you grab onto his bicep, pulling upward. He gets the hint and sits up. He’s still inside you, his cock slowly growing to full mast again the longer you sit here.
You’re face to face now. His arms are loosely wrapped around your waist, your arms tightly around his neck.
“Look me in my eye,” you whisper, “and tell me you’re the best I ever had.”
Joel audibly gulps.
Slow— so slow, your hips begin to move again. A breathy little moan escapes your mouth, and he lunges forward for you, his tongue dancing along the tip of yours, swallowing your breath. You allow it.
“Tell me,” you groan into his mouth, practically swallowing his tongue as you shallowly bounce yourself on him.
“Baby,” he whines, getting lost in this dance of heat and sweat he’s become utterly addicted to.
You break yourself away from his mouth, not allowing him the option to reach for you anymore. He pulls back, eyes wild and sad. His mouth turned down into a literal pout.
“My poor baby,” you mutter. “Tell me what I wanna hear,” you say again. “Or you’re not getting my lips nor are you coming for the rest of the night,” you tell him, switching back into your grinding motion to stimulate your sensitive bud, letting him feel the way your pussy flutters around him.
“Baby,” he begs again as you grind, your warmth forcing him to another climax. Please don’t make me say it, he’s trying to convince you.
Your fingers find their home at the base of his salt and pepper curls, tugging them in warning. “Tell. Me.”
You force his body down to lay flat on the bed again, towering over him, allowing your body the space to lift yourself off of him, only his tip inside of you. He takes a sharp breath in, knowing what’s coming.
You drop yourself down on him, fucking yourself on his cock at a bruising pace. You grab his hands and drag them up to your chest, wrapping his thick digits around you encouraging him to squeeze.
“Fuck- mama, I’m gonna—”
“No the fuck you’re not, baby,” you moan, lost in the pleasure but still rightfully in charge. “Swear to God, Joel, gonna leave you fucking swollen and pulsing for a fucking week— oh fuck,” you cut yourself off, a familiar sensation building at the base of your spine, sending you convulsing around his length yet again.
Joel’s eyes clamp shut, finally giving into your request so he can finally let go. “I— shit, I’m the—” a rugged moan forces itself out, “—the best you ever had, mama, please, the fuckin’ best, baby,” he cries out, his hips bucking up into you as he covers every inch of you with his spend.
“Shit,” you moan, his words affecting you a lot more than you anticipated, your hips doing overtime, unable to find it within you to stop even as he begins to soften. “Yes, fuck, that’s my boy, shit—” you breathe, “—the fucking best, always make me feel so fucking good, baby.”
His hands finally use their strength, trying his best to slow you with ease, his nerves reaching the point of painful overstimulation. “Alright, baby, alright,” he winces.
Recognizing his limits, you immediately begin to slow, lowering yourself onto his heaving chest. You let him slip out of you this time, giving him an actual break. “I’m sorry,” you whisper into his chest.
“For what, baby?” Joel responds with a kiss into your head.
“Did I go too far?”
He couldn’t help the belly laugh that shakes the both of you. You immediately sit back up, your hands on his chest to keep your limp body up. “What?” you glare at him.
“Too far? Which part, darlin’? Nearly breakin’ that guy’s shoulder or my dick?”
A belly laugh erupts out of you this time. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you respond. “...Both.”
“Mmm…” Joel puts on a fake thinking face. “Maybe to the former, but not at all to the latter,” he hums, his hands finding the back of your head to pull you in for a chaste kiss.
You hum into his lips, a smile stretching across your cheeks.
Resting your head on his chest, you let a few moments pass before you speak again. “Tommy’s not gonna invite us to another one of those, huh?”
“Probably not, mama,” he smiles. “Probably not.”
I’d love to hear what you think!! Any feedback or interactions with you all truly brightens my day. So so so much love for you all. Thank you for being here 🩶
I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.
graphics by @saradika-graphics (middle divider in fic by me)
#endless thoughts fics#pedro pascal#pedrohub#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#smut#pedrostories#one shot#fic#smut fic#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel x reader#joel miller fluff#joel miller one shot#joel miller x female reader#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#tlou smut
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Inked Desires - Part 2
Read Part 1 right here
Summary: After your one night stand with a stranger turns into a regular hookup, feelings begin to develop between you and Natasha. A night out at the bar with your friends has her begging wanting more with you.
Pairing: gp!Natasha x fem!Reader
Tags MINORS DNI: natasha has a dick, buff out this world & covered with tats and piercings, little bit of yearning and pining, mentions of alcohol, smut, blowjob, unprotected sex, breeding, begging, miscommunication
Masterlist
A/N: Part 1 blew up like crazy! I never ever thought I would EVER get that many notes. Especially for, essentially, a smut piece I wasn't used to writing. After being asked a few times, I agreed to make a part 2, buuut I've been in a (bad) writing rut lately. So I wanna shout out the person who gave me so many good ideas and an actual plot to work with. Y'all can thank just her for there actually being a part 2 cause there almost wasn't one 🙏 Thanks for helping, kisses for your big brilliant brain.
Hopefully, she and y'all like it? It's a bit longer. Let me know what you think, please, and thank you thank you so much for reading 💞
That being said, there will be a part 3 😄
"Split? Like down the middle?" Kate asks with a look of shock on her face. You walk in step beside her along the concrete path on campus.
"Right down the middle," you laugh and adjust the bag on your shoulder, thinking back to just a few days ago when Natashas skillful tongue worked its magic on your body. Your cheeks heat up at the memory.
That first night you met, Natasha had given you a kiss goodbye and gave you her number before you took a very drunk Kate Bishop home. Since then you had seen the redhead multiple times over the course of the last few weeks. Neither of you seemed to be able to keep your hands off of each other. Each time you met it was for sex, and even the time she had taken you to dinner it ended with you getting fucked into her mattress again.
You knew the basics about each other, where you lived, eachothers jobs... the more you thought about it the more it upset you. The physical level the two of you were on was heavenly, but really, well, you barely knew her.
Kates voice interrupts your thoughts as you enter the English building, and you stop walking as she does.
"What was that?" You ask, looking to the smirk plastered on her face with curiosity.
"I said, speak of the devil," she chuckles and nods her head in the direction of a very tall Natasha striding your way. "See you in there," Kate says and walks into the classroom, leaving you in the hallway.
You want to drown in the sight of her, wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt with old, dirty vans on her feet. You smile, trying not to drool at the way you can see the pops of color show from underneath her shirt or the way the sleeves seem too tight against her biceps as she grips the strap of her backpack.
"Hey there..." Natasha greets you with a smile, head pointing down as she stills before you. "Been a few days, haven't heard from you," she adds, her eyes baring into yours. You want to slap yourself for not replying to her text by the almost hurt look in her eyes.
"Well it hasn't even been a week, you miss me already?" You ask her with a little tilt of your head up at her, biting your lip as you see a blush spread across her cheeks. Her hand moves to the side of her neck, scratching at the ink awkwardly.
"No, no. Wait, I mean -" She lets out a sigh and shakes her head as you giggle at her. It was interesting, the difference in her appearance verses this nervous demeanor. "Maybe I did?" Natasha raises an eyebrow, the silver ring lifting higher.
"I might have missed you too," you shrug casually and watch as her face eases back into a smile. "I'm sorry I haven't texted, I've just been so busy with school and work." You point to the classroom next to you that Kate had entered. She follows the direction and nods.
"No worries, you're a busy lady. I actually took Mr. Furys class last year. Maybe I could take you for a coffee and give you some tips? Or maybe just um, talk?" Natasha asks, her tone quiet as she looks down to you.
You smile at the sincerity in her eyes. "I'm free after this class?" You take a step back, towards the room and match the wide smile on her lips.
"Sounds perfect," Natasha nods, and you can't ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest. Instead of taking another step away you walk forward, leaning up on your tip toes to press a soft kiss to her cheek.
Natasha can feel the burn on her cheeks, the affect you had on her drove her wild. You lean back and smile at her flustered state, leaving her alone in the now empty hallway.
An hour and a half later, you emerge from the classroom, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around at the sight of Natasha sitting on the floor. She had a book in her hand, closing it the moment she saw you and Kate walking towards her.
"Have you been sitting there this whole time?" You ask and tilt your head, watching the way her muscles flex as she runs a hand through her auburn hair.
"Uh, maybe?" A small blush hints on her cheeks, and she smiles at you and your friend. "I'm Natasha, by the way," she says and holds out her hand in front of Kate.
Kate chuckles at the formality, and you hit her arm, giving her a look. She shakes Natashas hand, "Kate... nice to finally meet you," She smiles back and looks next to her at you. "I'll see you tomorrow night, you should invite your friend."
You roll your eyes at Kates tease but nod and tell her you'll see her later.
"Coffee?" Natasha asks, and the ridiculous grin on her face is enough for you to agree to just about anything.
As you walk side by side, you can't help but admire her gentle personality. This woman, covered in tattoos and piercings with an intimidating gaze, was the complete opposite. She spoke to you about her schedule and that she was in school for sports medicine with a glint in her eyes.
"Like physical therapy?" You ask her curiously. You watched the way her face lit up at your interest, and she beamed down to you.
"Yeah, exactly that. If all else fails, I'll just be a personal trainer," she lets out a small chuckle, and you take the second she holds the door open for you to admire her toned body.
"How do I sign up? I need a good workout partner," you say with a flirtatious tone, brushing against her as you walk inside. You relish the blush on her cheeks and the small smirk on her lips as the smell of fresh coffee hits you.
"Didn't get a good enough workout last week?" Natasha replies.
"Oh, I had a great workout... but if I had a personal trainer, I'm sure I could get a good workout in at least a few times a week. Isn't that recommended?" You look up to her, seeing her neck redden and her eyes darken.
"I would definitely recommend that," Natasha mumbles as the two of you walk up to the counter.
As Natasha orders, you can't help but notice the change in her posture and attitude. Suddenly, she was standing straight, an impassive and series look on her face. Her tone was low as she talked to the woman at the counter. Natasha turns to you and nods for you to order. You do, and as she hands the woman her card, you smile up at her.
"Thank you for getting this for me," you say gratefully, watching her melt under your gaze. The smile was back, and her eyes came to life again. It seemed she had a soft spot for you.
"Of course, it's my treat," she says and walks you to a small table in the corner.
From there, you spend the entire rest of the evening actually talking and getting to know Natasha. As you already knew, she works out religiously, and you told her how lucky you felt that she had skipped her workout today just to sit down with you. She got her first tattoo at 18 and loved it, so she just never stopped getting them. The first piercing she got was on her eyebrow, and the same there, she just kept going.
It felt as if you were sitting in front of a whole new person than the one you met just weeks ago. The one who pile drived you into the mattress at a party and left you weak in the legs and sore the next day. Natasha was kind and sweet, funny, and surprisingly shy. Any time you made an attempt to flirt or give an innuendo, she would chuckle shyly and blush the slightest.
There were a few times you even had to squeeze your thighs as you thought back to that night. Any time her tongue would wet her lower lip or her eyes would travel to your neck. She loved your neck, you noticed. Every time you had hooked up her lips would go straight for the skin there, nipping at the few small freckles that adorned the area.
"That's a long time to be friends with someone," Natasha states as you finish telling her about yours and Kates relationship. Best friends since the fourth grade, completely inseparable.
"It's nice to have someone so close, who knows me so well. Especially since I'm an only child," you reply and watch her brow lift.
"Oh really? I have a sister, Yelena. She bugs the hell out of me, but I love her to death. She goes to the college just a couple of hours from here. Actually," Natasha looks at her phone, checking the time. "I'm supposed to meet her soon... she came home for the weekend."
You nod slowly and look around, realizing everyone had left and the two baristas were cleaning up. As the two of you stand, Natasha suddenly towering over at you, you feel a little disappointment in your chest. You were having more fun with her than you thought, and you found yourself not wanting to part.
"Hey, Kate and I are going to this bar tomorrow night. A few of our friends are getting together. Joes?" You say to her, smiling to yourself as she once again holds the door open for you.
"Yeah, I've been there a few times before," Natasha says with a grin, standing outside the coffee shop with you.
"If you want, maybe you and Yelena can meet us? You don't have to, of course, but..." You trail off.
"I will definitely be there. Text me a time?" She asks, and you nod happily. Natasha leans down, and you think for a second she's going to kiss you, but her lips land on the soft skin of your cheek. You put your hand on her arm as she does, feeling the tattooed skin burn underneath your touch.
****
Joes Bar is crowded, but that's to be expected on a Saturday night near a college campus. A local alternative band plays loudly on the small stage on one side of the room, and you find yourself on the opposite side sitting at the bar. Kate is nearby talking to friends and a few strangers, but you only had one person in mind.
You glance at your phone again, seeing no notifications. With a sigh, you finish your second drink, ordering a third as you contemplated the possibility she wasn't going to show up. This is why you didn't do this type of thing. You don't hook up with hot strangers. You don't get coffee with gorgeous, sweet women. You stayed to yourself, guarded your heart, and let yourself be safe from any type of rejection or heartbreak.
But God Natasha was worth breaking your rules.
You found your way back to reality as the bartender handed you a drink and said thank you before grabbing it and removing yourself from the bar stool. As you turn, you bump into someone, almost spilling your drink on them.
"Oh shit I'm so sorry!" You apologize, shaking the liquor off your hand as you had spilled a little on yourself.
"It's okay, I was just trying to squeeze in next to you," the woman says, and in your tipsy state, you raise an eyebrow. She seemed about your age, dirty blonde hair, and a familiar grin on her lips. You definitely hadn't seen her in here before.
"I was just getting up, actually. You can have my seat. Is that an accent I hear?" You ask curiously, moving out of the way so she could take your place.
"Yeah, I still have a bit of an accent, I was born in Russia. Lived there for a while," she says and nods. She then orders two drinks before turning back to you.
"Wow, you're a long way from there. You go to school here?" You ask her and sip your drink, feeling Kate stand behind you.
"No, but my sister does, though," the blonde smiles and grabs the two bottles of beer from the bartender. She looks at you and extends her arm towards Kate to hand her a bottle. You give her a confused look.
It's only then you realize, as an inked hand reaches over you to take the beer, that it's not Kate standing there, but Natasha. You turn instantly and look up, a habit your neck was quickly getting used to doing.
"Well, well, look who showed up," you say and take your bottom lip between your teeth. Natasha smiles at your words, noticing the way you take in her appearance.
If it was possible, Natasha looked hotter than ever. She wore a black t shirt underneath a leather jacket. Her flaming hair was behind her in a braid with a few loose strands framing her face.
"I see you've met my sister, Yelena," Natasha chuckles and nods in the direction of the blonde woman.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N. Natty here hasn't been able to shut up abou-" Yelena is cut off by Natasha flicking the bottle cap at her face, a stern expression on the older woman's face.
You smile at the siblings' banter, watching Yelena laugh and shrug innocently. Whether it be the alcohol flowing in your bloodstream or the way Natasha looked at you, you slide your hand into hers. She tenses at first, not used to the public display of affection from you, but quickly relaxes as you intertwine your fingers with hers.
"Come on, come meet everyone," you say and tug on her hand in the direction of Kate.
You find them huddled around a pool table, watching as Kate lines up the pool tip to the cue ball with one eye closed. Carol stands leaning against her own stick, shaking her head and putting out the cigarette she smokes into the ashtray on the edge of the table.
"Anyday, Bishop..." Carol groans, earning a laugh from the group.
"Seriously, how long are you going to take?" Peter chimes in.
Kate ignores them and continues to stare intensely at the 8 ball. Her arm begins to pull back to take the shot, but as Yelena comes into focus on the opposite side of the table, Kate is finally distracted by the beautiful blonde. The cue ball misses her target completely, rolling across the table and sinking into the pocket.
"Scratch!" Carol cheers and high fives Monica. Kate looked up at Yelena, her lips parted as if she was going to speak, but no words came out. Carol then steps up to the table and sinks the 8 ball, ending the game with a dramatic bow.
You smile at the group, raising an eyebrow at the silent state of your best friend. "Guys, this is Natasha and her sister Yelena," you say, receiving waves and friendly greetings from everyone. You introduce them to the Romanoffs a little more before they rack up for another game.
"You any good?" Carol nods to Natasha, who gives a humble shrug.
"I'm decent," she replies with a smirk on her face as she brings the bottle to her lips. Carol hands the pool stick over before going to get drinks for the group.
"Hope you're good, Romanoff. We still haven't beat Y/N," Peter says begrudgingly. You only hum in response as Kate hands you her stick, positioning yourself across the table.
"Is that so?" Natasha watches with playful eyes as you skillfully break, the balls rolling in different directions along the table and a few of them sinking into the pockets.
When you lean up, you smile and reach your hand up to pat her cheek. "Good thing you didn't bet anything," you chuckle.
After a few back and forth turns, Carol returns with shots, to which you all cheer and take at the same time. The alcohol was definitely settling its way into your system now, and you were hot to the touch each time Natasha had to lean down to take her shot. Between the focused look on her face and the way the pool stick slid between her fingers, it was enough for you to want her right there.
You step forward next to her, looking at the direction of the shot she was trying to take. "That's a tough one, baby," you say to her, the term of endearment catching Natasha off guard.
Her body visibly tenses as she looks to you with a visceral reaction and swallows hard. You feign an innocent smile, taking a mental note to call her that again just to see her reaction. Natasha misses the shot and curses under her breath.
"That's not fair," she says and shakes her head as she stands tall. The red head removes her jacket, finding that the room was getting hotter.
You shrug and easily pocket two more balls on your turn. When you look to Kate to make a comment about the shot, you realize she's strayed from the group, chatting up Yelena. With your friends being in their own worlds at the moment, you decide to have a little fun with Natasha.
"You're not so bad, you know. The others have a hard time keeping up with me," you smile as she leans down, and your hand rests on her back, rubbing over her shirt.
"Y/n," Natasha mumbles, the blush on her cheeks evident she enjoyed your touch.
"Yes, Nat?" You pur, watching the muscles flex understand the fabric. Knowing you had this type of effect on her gave you a sense of power that only made you hungry for more. Your hand slithers underneath the bottom of her shirt, nails scratching at her back. She misses. You smile.
"You're a cheater, you know that?" Natasha says in a playful tone, her body naturally leaning towards you.
Your hands rest on her stomach, "I don't know what you're talking about." You lean up and plant a soft kiss on her lips, smirking as she leans down and melts against your mouth. "I'm just having fun," you whisper.
At that, you step away from her, crossing over to the opposite side of the table. You lean down more than you need to, and you don't miss the way Natashas eyes dart back and forth from your breasts to your neck. She finishes another bottle, and you can tell you've stressed her out by the way her hand grips the glass.
You continue to do the same thing for the remainder of the game, teasing her with every shot she took and making sure to bend in front of her any chance you could. It came down to the 8 ball, and you had to admit, you were dragging the game on longer than you needed to.
"Last one," you sigh and put your hand on the back of her neck as she leans down. Your fingers squeeze gently as she clears her throat, trying to ignore the shivers that run down her spine every time you touch her. You lean down with her, your lips brushing against her ear. "Good luck, baby," you whisper and kiss her cheek.
Her neck gets red at your words, and her grip on the stick only tightens. You think it'll snap in half with how hard she holds it. Natasha quickly shoots and misses, causing you to raise an eyebrow with just how quick she took the shot. Instead of stepping back, she continues to stand pressed against the table. "All yours," she mumbles and holds her hand out to the table, shifting uncomfortably as she stands.
You line up the shot and sink the black ball easily, looking up at her with a wide smile. She only gives you a small smile back with a nod. "Aren't you going to give me a victory kiss?" You ask as you step back to her.
Natasha hesitates for a moment but finally turns to face you. Your hands move up to wrap around her neck, your body pressing against her front as she leans in. Before your lips can touch your eyes, widen the slightest. You now realize the reason for the sudden uncomfortable physical shift she had taken when you felt her bulge pressing hard against you.
"Oh... was I teasing you too much?" You ask with a smirk on your lips. She rolls her eyes and moves to pull away, but you don't let her. "What was it?" You ask her.
"What was what?" She replies, her hands moving to your waist. You press your body further into her and relish the hiss that leaves her mouth.
You search her eyes, thinking to the moment her demeanor had changed. Suddenly, there was that power-hungry feeling again when you realized the reasoning. The fact that you could get her hot and bothered by a simple word leaving your lips, by your voice alone, and the thought of you driving someone like her mad. Natasha was weak in the knees for you, and she struggled internally with the way you made her feel. She wasn't used to it.
"Why don't you let me help you take care of your little problem... baby, " you whisper to her, feeling her shoulders tense above you. "Come on." You slide back and take her hand in yours, leading her away from the pool table and towards the bathroom.
As soon as both of you are inside and you lock the door, the two of you are on top of each other just like the first night you met her. Natasha kisses you feverishly, like she'd never been kissed before, with your back hard against the door. You welcomed her tongue into your mouth, moaning as the two halves wrap around your own.
With one hand, you hold onto the front of her shirt, gripping tightly, with the other you slide it in between your bodies, letting yourself grope the hard bulge in her jeans. Natasha lets a hint of a whimper leave her lips, one you hadn't heard since the first time with her, and you smirk into the kiss.
"What's the matter, baby? Do you need some help?" You ask innocently, lips ghosting hers. She breathes heavily and nods as your hands move to undo her belt.
"Sweetheart... please," she says, and you decide in that moment that you need her to say that again. Just the idea that this strong, formidable woman could so easily melt in your presence made you thrilled.
Her hands rest on either side above your head, pressed flat against the door as you slide her pants down. You can see the precum dampening a spot on her underwear, and you feel yourself get wet at the sight of it. She needed you, bad.
"Please, what?" You ask, your hand moves to grab her through her boxers, and you stroke her length through the thin fabric.
"Fu-fuck," she barely breathes out, eyes searching yours. Natasha hadn't begged a day in her life, but she would happily beg for you. She was at the point right now that she was willing to get down on her knees and beg for you. You made her desperate.
"Please touch me, please. You feel how hard I am for you? Just -" You squeezing a little harder makes her gasp before continuing. "I need you to touch me. Please, sweetheart... please, " she begs. You smile at her words, enjoying the way her body melts at your touch and the way she begs for you.
At her words you slide down her boxers, and her cock twitches at the feeling of finally being released. She lets out a sigh of relief as your delicate fingers wrap around her. "Is this what you wanted?" You hum, beginning to move your hand up and down. Natasha nods, chest beginning to rise and fall rapidly at your movements.
When you stop, she looks at you with a disoriented look, eyebrows lifting as she watches you drop to your knees. You take her cock in your hand, letting your other rest on her thick, toned thigh. From here you can see her happy trail peaking from underneath her shirt, making your panties wetter. The way she looks down at you with a breathless expression and parted lips makes you want to live your life on your knees for her. Your lips kiss along the side of her length, teasing slowly with your tongue licking up it. Natasha groans with pleasure at the feeling and her hips instinctively buck towards you.
You give in, not wanting to tease her anymore tonight, and take her cock into your mouth. The moan that leaves her mouth is outright sinful, and her fist hits the door with a thud as you begin to bob your head. Your cheeks hollow out when you begin moving faster, taking as much of her as you could. When the tip hits the back of your throat your eyes sting, tears threatening to leave your ducts. Natasha pants heavily above you, savoring the moment of you on your knees for her, sucking her off.
"Look at you, such a pretty girl with my cock in your mouth- fuck," Natasha speaks low to you, her eyes dark as she watches her cock disappear against your lips. Your fingers on her thigh dig in, your nails digging into her skin to leave crescent shaped marks, at her words. "All night you've been teasing me... this is the only way to shut you up, isn't it?" She says and you moan against her, the vibrations sending her close to the edge.
Her breathing gets heavier and you can tell she's about to cum, but before she can you quickly remove your mouth, your saliva coating her as you release with a pop. You stand, not ignoring the frustrated look on her face.
"Baby, I think you're confused," you say, your hands moving to the top of your dress. "You're not in charge right now," You let out a small laugh and pull down on the fabric, letting your breasts spill out. Natashas face reddens in response, and she immediately moves to kiss your chest. You can feel the marks she leaves as her lips trail across your breasts, her skillful tongue pleasuring your sensitive nipples.
Natashas' large hands move to the bottom of your dress as her kisses begin to litter up your neck. You let her move the material above and over your hips, but stop her as she reaches your panties. "I wanna hear you," you mumble out. She lets out a huff and pulls away from your neck.
"Y/n... please." Natasha says. You only continue to look at her with innocent eyes. The fact that she would beg for you - is begging for you, made you feel instant gratification.
"Please, pretty girl? Please let me make you feel good. I want to fuck you, want to make you feel good so bad..." She begs, and you let her slide your panties down your legs. Natasha slides her tip between your closed thighs, her cock now being coated from the wetness that spread between your legs.
She slips in between your folds, waiting for your words. Her fingers dig into your hips. "You drive me so fucking insane," Natasha whispers as her head ducks to your neck again. "I could cum from just looking at you. Just hearing you say my name. You know how much control you have over me?" Her hips continue rocking against you, your thighs squeezing her hard cock. She begins to pant again, her neck red and hot to the touch as you wrap your arms around it, interlocking your fingers behind her head.
"Please," Natasha whimpers, and the sound is enough to make you moan. You needed to feel her inside you immediately, hear more of those moans leave her lips.
"Show me how bad you want me, how insane I make you feel," you finally say and lean forward to bite her lower lip. She wastes no time lifting you up, helping you wrap your legs around her hips. Your back presses against the door again and with one hand she guides her cock inside of your warm velvet walls, easily ,with how wet you were for her.
Natasha begins to thrust up into you, a feeling you had become accustomed to these past few weeks, although you weren't sure you'd ever get used to her size. She groans against your chest, nipping at the skin. The small bathroom fills with the sounds of her pounding into you, both of you moaning practically in sync with every thrust.
"So good, pretty girl, feel so good wrapped around my cock. I love fucking this pretty pussy," she breathes heavy against your skin as she speaks. You hold on tightly to her, only breathless moans escape your lips in response.
Suddenly, from the outside, someone bangs on the door, Natasha doesn't halt her descent on you. "Can you hurry the fuck up in there?" A stranger yells from the other side. Your eyes widen, a little bit of adrenaline rushing into your chest as she continues fucking into you.
Natasha smiles, now at your flustered state. "Occupied," is all she replies before her thrust picks up the pace. "You better keep quiet, sweetheart. You don't want everyone to know how much of a slut you are for me, letting me fuck you in the bathroom."
You squeeze your eyes closed as she fucks herself into you, trying your best to keep quiet. Each thrust was now hitting that special spot inside of you and drawing you closer to an orgasm. The feeling of her muscles flexing around you only intensified that feeling.
"Fuck I-I can't I'm-" Natasha stutters out as she groans into your neck, feeling your hot cunt tighten around her cock.
"Me too, Nat," you moan along with her, and your legs squeeze around her waist. "Let go, baby... wanna feel you fill me up." You watch her face twist in pleasure at your words, and the fact that it was enough to make her cum only added to your ego in the moment. Natasha grunts against your skin as she does just what you say, filling you up completely.
The sensation alone is enough to make you follow right behind her, the burn in your lower stomach blazing as you scream out her name.
"That's it, sweetheart, that's it... such a good girl for me," she coos as you fall apart in her arms, kissing your face as you breathe heavily. Your head falls against her shoulder, face panting in the crook of her neck as she holds you tightly, letting you come down off your high.
After a few moments she pulls out slowly, and you can feel the mixture of both your arousal dripping down your thighs. Natasha carries you to the sink, letting you rest on the hard surface while she pulls her pants back up and you fix the top of your dress.
"Hi," she says with a smile. You giggle, remembering she said the same thing afterward on the first night at her party.
"Hi," is all you reply, grabbing her shirt in your hand and pulling her closer to kiss you again.
****
"They have eight legs and eight eyes. How are they not scary?" Peter drunkenly speaks to Monica, who sits next to him with an amused look.
After your time in the bathroom with Natasha, the two of you had rejoined the group, and over the course of two hours, you had become increasingly wasted with the rest of your friends. As Yelena joined in on the topic of spiders, you feel Natasha rest her head back against your front.
She sat slouched back in one of the chairs that scattered near the table while you stood behind her, hands stroking her neck and massaging her shoulders. You can't help but smile down at her.
"You're so cute," you giggle and watch her brow raise. Your finger traces the dark lines on her neck.
"Anything but cute," Natasha groans, with a playful smirk on her face. "Why do you say that?"
"You're different than you look, you know? Why are you so nervous around me?" Your words slur, and she chuckles at your drunken state with a shrug, looking at the beer bottle she held in her hand.
"Must be the alcohol?" She says. You shake your head and poke her nose.
"You were drinking when I first met you, and you weren't like this," you point out and watch her swallow. You decide to move in front of her, settling yourself between her muscled thighs. As you stand in front of her, she sits up straighter, the two of you now practically the same height.
You take her hand in yours, playing with her fingers. She smiles a little as she looks at your intertwined hands.
"Maybe I was drinking that night to get enough courage to talk to you... and maybe I- maybe I'm drinking tonight to get enough courage to say I want more with you. More than... the hookups," she says and finally looks back up at you. Your heart races in your chest at her words, panic written on your face as you freeze in front of her.
That was exactly what you wanted. More of her, more of this beautiful person who was even more beautiful inside. To get to know what makes her really tick, what makes her happy, how her day was, how she likes her coffee. She wanted more, too, so why were you not speaking out loud?
"What?" Is all that comes out of your mouth.
Natashas face falls completely, misinterpreting your flustered state for a sign of rejection. She had hoped this wouldn't happen. Part of her wondered if this had just been a hook up, but the other part of her desperately hoped it wasn't.
Before the words could leave your parted lips, Kate calls over to you, taking the attention of both you and Natasha.
"Y/N, you ready to go? You can stay if you want, I'm gonna take Pete home, though," she nods to the direction of where he sat drunk rambling to Yelena.
"No, not -"
"Actually, Yelena and I have a lot to do tomorrow. We should head out too," Natasha interrupts you and stands, her hand moving to your lower back as you stare up at her with a pout.
"Are you sure?" You ask her, your hand reaching out to her side. She tenses under your grasp.
"Yeah, I'll text you later," She smiles at you, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes this time.
You nod anyways and smile back, leaning up to kiss her lips softly. "Thank you for tonight.. Hopefully, we can do it again soon?"
And while you were talking about hanging out with her, Natasha assumes you were talking about her fucking you.
"Yeah, soon," she lets out a breath and grabs her jacket, not taking a second look back at you as her and Yelena exit the bar.
***
A smile fills your face as your head hits the pillow, the soft comforter pulled over you as you lie on your warm bed and mull over tonights events. You wondered why Natasha had left in such a hurry before you could say anything, but you decided not to think too hard on it. She probably did have to go. It was early in the morning by the time you left, and besides, you would hear from her later.
Every morning, she texted you a quick and sweet text, telling you to have a good day.
Your chest swelled at the thought of it, how sweet it was that such a small, simple thing could brighten your entire day. What you assumed would happen tomorrow is that the two of you would talk about wanting more and how desperately you agreed with her about it.
But when the late morning came and the sunshine streamed through the windows, no text came with it.
#natasha romanoff#natasha x fem!reader#natasha x reader#natasha x you#natasha romanoff x reader#gp!Natasha x reader#marvel#marvel one shot#part 2
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best dress * fem!driver
when pictures circulate on instagram of her on a night out in her best dress, the guys start to get curious who she’s out and about with on a saturday night
pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, george russell x fem!driver, lando norris x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver
warnings: none
notes: i may have gotten carried away with this one… and this might have played out a LOT funnier in my head than it does written down
(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)
-> the aftermath
she pushes the door open and steps out of her racing home. she looks left and right cautiously, careful not to catch her colleagues’ attentions. there’s many nights she’d appreciate their companionship but tonight is not that night.
she can only step one down before her worst nightmare comes to life.
“hey, where are you going?” she turns her head, mouth agape as she meets lando’s curious eyes. his eyes scan her body and his head tilts. “and why are you all dressed up?”
she straightens her body and pats her dress down. she flicks her hair behind her shoulder, trying to ignore the awkward tension in the air.
“um,” she trails off, glancing at the group of engineers walking past them without another thought. “i’m going out tonight.”
lando’s smile drops. “oh,” he slouches, “i was here to ask you if you wanted to grab drinks with us at the bar tonight.”
“hey lando, did you f- what are you wearing?” oscar’s jaw drops, nose scrunched up as he points at her in what can only be described as disgust. “where are you even going?”
“out,” she answers with gritted teeth, glancing at the gantries of the paddocks. it’s so close yet so far away. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay? i’ve really got to go.”
“but you never turn down post-quali drinks at the bar,” lando frowns. he presses his palm against his chest and throws his head back. “i can’t believe you’d betray me like that.”
oscar looks her up and down, eyebrow raising as it gets to the heels she’s put on. “why are you wearing heels? seriously, where the hell are you going?”
“exploring the city!”
“exploring the c– we’re here year after year. we know the best spots!” lando defends. “come on! we’re going to have so much fun!”
“you’re exploring the city in heels?”
she narrows her eyes down into a mean glare. of course this is the one time that oscar decides to remember she doesn’t wear high heels for exploration purposes. “yeah.”
“you know you want to come with us.” lando shimmies his shoulders, face hopeful that the driver would change her mind. but she still shakes her head and his smile immediately drops. “fine. be that way.”
“i’m sorry, i already arranged my plans even before we flew to miami,” she laughs sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. “if you guys are going out tomorrow, i’m free to join.”
lando intertwines his fingers. “okay. but if you cancel again, i’m crashing into you the next race.”
“okay,” she chuckles, readjusting the strap of her purse. “i’ll catch you guys tomorrow.”
oscar rolls his eyes, but a smile still stretches his lips. “don’t get lost. it’s a big city, (y/n).”
“yeah, penelope’s doing amazing,” max nods, his arm resting on the back of lando’s chair. one of his legs over the other, he takes a swig of his beer. “she just started school recently.”
“oh, i s-“
“hold up!” lando holds his arm out to max’s chest, his scream startling everyone seated around the table. the light from his phone illuminates his face as everyone turns to him with a puzzled stare. “oh, my god!”
“what?” max answers just as enthusiastically, smacking lando’s thigh to get his attention. lando lifts the phone up into his face, squinting as he tries to make out the person in the picture.
“yeah, don’t cut me off,” george scoffs as he folds his arms over his chest. “i was just asking if-“
“(y/n)’s out on a date!” lando yells, smacking max’s chest. he pushes himself off the chair and throws the phone into george’s lap. “dude, i knew it! i knew there was a reason she’s all dressed up!”
“seriously!” george screams towards his fellow brit.
“a date?” oscar scoffs, in absolute disbelief that his best friend could even have the ability to attract a man. “there’s no way.”
max grins sheepishly, handing the phone over to the australian. “i’m afraid so. someone saw her in a restaurant with a guy,” max states, “it’s all over instagram.”
oscar snorts, slowly analysing the grainy picture of the girl in a restaurant with somebody. sure, it’s similar to the dress she wore when they caught her sneaking out of the paddocks, but how sure can they be that it’s her?
“we should go and find her!” max suggests, his face lighting up and cheeks flushed from all the alcohol. he jumps in his seat and smacks george’s thigh lightly. “dude, let’s find her!”
“are you crazy?” george grabs max’s hand and throws it back at his body. “her date’s none of our business!”
though, lando disagrees with his friend. he clasps his hands together with a loud sound. “let’s go, gentlemen. we’re crashing (y/n)’s date.”
but only max stands up, hands on his hips and chest puffed out. “i’m ready. i’ve got my brave face on.”
“you look absolutely ridiculous,” george raises an eyebrow, “i don’t believe you used to scare off victoria’s suitors when you were younger.”
“me neither, but it somehow worked,” max nods proudly, turning slightly to look at george. “come on! this is practice for when it’s penelope’s turn! i have to make it believable this time.”
“you’re so drunk, mate,” george sighs. yet he still gets off his seat. “but i kinda want to see this with my own eyes.”
lando turns to oscar, still planted in his seat. lando doesn’t get to say a word before oscar starts shaking his head vigorously.
lando slouches. “why not?”
“i absolutely don’t believe that (y/n) is strong enough to take me in a normal fight,” oscar shakes his head, “but i’ve learned my lesson squeezing myself into a scenario that involves her dating life.”
george tilts his head. “what?”
oscar looks up, eyes scanning the three older men towering over him. “she gave me a really bad bruise one time when i scared off this guy that hit on her in the mall.”
“so?” max yanks oscar off his seat. “i’ll protect you. come on, i’ve got to see who’s sweeping (y/n) off her feet.”
“okay, but remember to tell her i tried to stop you,” oscar mutters, letting max push him towards the door.
after many dms sent on instagram, phone calls made, and struggles to find a taxi, the four have finally arrived at the restaurant. it’s a quiet establishment in the further end of the city, heads turning as passersby recognise the huddled men by the entrance.
“are you sure it’s this one?” oscar looks up at the sign. it’s a lot fancier than he expected. “doesn’t really seem like (y/n)’s gig.”
“if i were taking the grid’s princess out on a date, i’d take her to a fancy restaurant too,” max shrugs, following oscar’s stare.
the amount of time it took them to connect the puzzle pieces really sobered him up.
george taps his foot on the ground, craning his neck for a better look through the window. “are you sure it’s here? i don’t see her.”
“the girl that posted it said she was here when snapped the picture,” lando confirms, looking between his phone screen and the sign of the restaurant. “what if (y/n) tricked us knowing we’d come running?”
once the server comes back out, guiding them to their table, each of them does their own part to pick the girl from the crowd.
“i don’t see her,” max sighs, taking one last look at the restaurant’s tables and picking up the menu. “there’s no way we ditched the bar for a wild goose chase.”
“because she’s in the far corner over there,” oscar says nonchalantly, head flicking towards the other end of the restaurant where it’s slightly darker than normal. “i noticed her when we were outside the restaurant.”
george slowly turns his head to oscar. “while we were busting our asses looking for her?”
oscar shrugs, eyes boring into the menu for a snack to fill himself with. “i told you — i’m not getting another bruise for meddling with her love life.”
“nice! there’s a table closer to her!” max suddenly says, already on his feet to follow the waiter. he turns around and beckons his friends to follow him. “come on!”
they keep their heads low as the face of the familiar girl comes into sight. oscar even covers with his face with the menu, having learned his lesson from all those years ago.
they’re a table diagonal from her, menus up to cover their faces from her. “dude, who is she with?”
“i don’t know, i can’t get a look at his face without revealing mine,” george mutters, peeking slightly above his menu. he darts back down and rolls his eyes. “max, your turn.”
“don’t make it look obvious,” lando mutters, nudging max’s elbow with his. “look like you’re looking for a waiter.”
max swiftly turns in his seat, completely twisting his torso to get a look. but the man is faced away, the driver comfortably sitting in the booth seat as she giggles at something he said.
“dude, i can’t,” max shrugs, shying away behind his menu once more.
to the table next to them, a menu drops and reveals sebastian. “what are you idiots doing here?”
george’s jaw drops, pointing a finger at the older man. “we could ask you the same.”
“we saw her getting in a random ass car outside the paddocks.” the other menu across sebastian lowers, revealing logan with his hood covering his head. “we followed her here.”
“so you know who she’s with?” max asks in a hushed whisper, leaning towards their table. he looks down at the empty table. “you haven’t ordered anything?”
“it took us a while to get a table,” logan shrugs, pulling his hood further down to cover his face. “food’s in the kitchen.”
“oh, what did you get?” max asks, now looking back at the menu for something to order.
“mate!” george scolds, rolling his eyes before facing the other table. “who is she with?”
“according to blythe, it’s jacob elordi,” sebastian says, then shrugs with the roll of his eyes. “whoever that is.”
“oh, i’ve heard of him,” max nods, pressing his lips together. “he was in euphoria, wasn’t he?”
the table falls silent, heads turning to look at the dutchman as his confession falls from his lips. max notices their stares and he simply shrugs. “kelly and i like to watch shows over the break.”
“still not a show i expected you to be watching,” lando scoffs, turning slightly to get a glimpse of the girl once more. “isn’t he a bit too old for her?”
max straightens up, stiffly turning to look at lando. his head tilts as an unimpressed expression lands on his face. “dude. easy on the age gap.”
“yours doesn’t count,” lando sighs, “she’s practically a baby!”
oscar clicks his tongue. “but i mean… jacob elordi isn’t ugly, yes? an upgrade from her only boyfriend, right, max?”
max shrugs. “i guess.”
sebastian nods towards the table, his eyes suddenly widening at the empty booth seat. “where did she go? did she ditch him?”
“no, she caught you.” a low feminine voice makes all their heads turn to the end of the table. she looks down and pulls the hood off of logan’s head and shoves him forward slightly. “why are you here? you’re better than this!”
logan shrugs, chuckling slightly. “you were being secretive! i was just curious!”
“this is the last time i’m going on a date from the paddocks,” she grunts, stomping her heel into the ground. “go home, you guys! we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
sebastian hisses as the waiter stops behind her, dishes resting on top of the tray in his hands. “we already got some food.”
she narrows her eyes down, locking eyes with max. “you’re here too?”
max nods. “i suggested this,” his eyes go around the table, “team bonding activity.”
“i just wanted to see what would happen,” george admits. he points at max seated opposite him, “he said he wanted to scare off whoever your date is.”
“it’s true, i heard him say it,” lando nods, a small and guilty smile flashes at her. “we were just concerned about you.”
sebastian grabs her wrist gently, shaking her arm. “don’t be mad anymore. come on…”
“and you!” she points a finger at the australian sitting quietly between logan and george. his head snaps up at the yelp, wide and guilty eyes meeting hers. “i told you to stop meddling with my love life!”
“what?” oscar screams back, dropping his menu. “i was dragged here against my will!”
“i don’t believe you!”
“max!” oscar looks at max, then points at the furious girl as he awaits his explanation.
max stares at him for a second too long, and a giggle erupts from his throat. “right! right… we forced him here. he did not want another bruise, he said.”
“good,” she scolds, turning on her heel. “we’re leaving.”
“but we just got here!” lando squeaks. he cowers into his seat when she turns back around to glare at him, giving him flashbacks to a time when his mother would use it on him. “i mean, enjoy your time and don’t get too tired. it’s race day tomorrow.”
oscar doesn’t bother looking at her again. “see you tomorrow, loser.”
“where are you going?” george asks, a mischevious grin on his face to challenge her. “back to the hotel for some fun time?”
“a walk,” she sighs, dropping her head. she leans on the table. “my heels are killing me.”
“oh, i’ve got you,” sebastian mutters, disappearing underneath the table. out of his bag is a pair of doll shoes, the ones that she keeps in the garage when her time in the race car is over. “i saw these lying around aimlessly and thought i should keep them for you before it gets too dirty.”
she glares at him, hesitantly taking the shoes into her hand. “you took these from my room, didn’t you?”
sebastian shrugs. “you don’t wear heels very often, kid.”
“give me recommendations for date places,” logan smiles. “maybe next time i’ll have a girl out here with me. like you with jacob elordi.”
her mood changes back to what it was before: a mixture of irritation and not one of amusement. “i will kill you guys tomorrow. my date is waiting for me outside.”
oscar waves her towards the door. “i trust you’ll text logan and i about this later.”
“hey, i want in!” lando adds on, completely ignoring the girl walking away to the door.
“dude, this is seriously none of our business.”
taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife
#sebastian vettel x reader#oscar piastri x reader#logan sargeant x reader#george russell x reader#lando norris x reader#max verstappen x reader#female driver#f1 fem!driver#f1 female driver#f1 x reader#f1 grid x reader#formula 1 fem!drive#fem!driver#disneyprincemuke#disneyprincemuke imagine#disneyprincemuke imagines#disneyprincemuke f1
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Boyfriend Material | jjk (m)
☾ Pairing: Hockey Player!Jungkook x f. Reader
☾ Summary: Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material – except when he is.
☾ Word Count: 2,127
☾ Genre: FWB, Hint of Angst, Smut
☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.
☾ Warnings: Friends with benefits who are very obviously pretending not to have feelings, being in a confusing relationship that is basically a relationship without titles, feelings of confusion and self-doubt, lying to oneself, mentions of some toxic interactions with other people/women, repressed feelings, explicit sexual content including oral (f. receiving) in the shower, honestly, in general, some very cliche/stereotypical conflict you’d find in a relationship with someone of status
☾ Published: March 23, 2024
☾ A/N: This is a self-insert of one of the most confusing relationships I have ever had in my life and I will die on the hill that no one should date athletes because 98% of them are the rule, not the exception no matter how much they seem like it! TRAUMA!!! Also, should I have been dating a professional athlete for the sport I worked in? No!!!! This is for all the people who have been in a not-relationship-that-is-a-relationship why the fuck do people do that like it is okay to have feelings and call ur partner ur partner??
☾ A/N 2: This is drabble number six for the Drabble Challenge that I have been utterly failing at! Today I rolled for ‘athlete’ but I didn’t feel like writing actual sports so I was like :) I worked in sports for ten years, I can just share a glimpse of my life when I was 23 years old :) Enjoy
☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.
Main Masterlist ☾ 100 Drabble Masterlist ☾ Ask ☾ Song Inspiration
“Fuck, I’m so tired,” Jungkook groans, leaning back in the chair and stretching his arms. Sun beats down on his golden skin. You feel the heat of it on your back and the top of your head. It’s pleasant, the cool spring breeze threatening to send the napkins on the table running. “Wanna lay out at the pool?”
Finishing the rest of your coffee, you nudge the empty plate away from you. Where once an eggs benedict had stood is now smears of leftover yolk and a single onion you missed when eating your hashbrowns.
“Not sick of me?” you ask, raising a brow.
Jungkook isn’t looking at you, scrolling on his phone. The bill of his hat is pulled low, hiding most of his face as he squints down at the device held low in his lap. You wait patiently for his answer, running your finger up and down the now-empty glass as it sweats from the sun.
“Nope,” he answers, popping the end of the word sharply. “Did you ever get your desk fixed? Yoongi said he would fix it if not.”
“I have not.”
He nods. “He said he’ll swing by this afternoon. We can lay out at the pool at my place and then head to yours after?”
Your mouth twitches. You don’t say it out loud because you don’t want to risk him backing out, but another full day spent with Jungkook is a surprise to you. Not because it doesn’t happen often – it does. But rather because it keeps happening more often.
Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material. He’d established that the first night he met you at a bar. Him being a professional athlete was a warning sign enough that you didn’t want to romance that but what had come afterward has been nothing short of surprising.
Friendship and… well. You don’t know how to explain the extras.
Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material. But you do your groceries together on the weekend. You drop him off at the arena when they’re heading out for a road trip. You take him to doctor's appointments to monitor the knee injury from last season.
You’re not Jungkook’s girlfriend but he takes you to team events. He lets himself in and does your laundry at your apartment while you’re at work so you don’t have to do it when you come home. He has his teammates fix furniture for you and they’ve asked you to babysit their kids.
“Babe?” the endearment makes you blink a few times, realizing you’d been staring into your lap. Jungkook’s dark eyes are focused on you now, phone shoved into his pocket. “We don’t have to go to the pool. We can just nap.”
We. Not you. Jungkook is going to hang out with you regardless if you like his original idea or not. Your stomach flips in that way you hate, the way that you know you’re doing everything you said you wouldn’t.
“Sounds good.”
Jungkook flashes a grin and you become acutely aware that thinking you could be friends with benefits without being anything more was a stupid idea. Jungkook is not made to be resisted, with round eyes that darken when he’s turned on, a giggle that contrasts with the big, broad-shouldered athlete built, a smile that lights up the room and can dispel any tension, a sweet voice that can tempt anyone the moment he pouts or when he decides to pur.
You were fucked - literally and figuratively - that first night you let him in your apartment.
Instead of thinking about it, you hide from the truth. Again. Jungkook is not boyfriend material, despite the fact that he pays for breakfast despite your protests, and reaches over the center console in the car to squeeze your thigh.
“Mmm,” he hums, fingers skating over your flash and making you squirm in the passenger seat. “Warm.”
“I was sitting in the sun.”
“I like it.”
Jungkook likes a lot about you. He tells you all the time, very open about how he likes the way you taste, likes the way you organize your books by color, likes the way you sing in the shower, likes the way you speak in Star Wars quotes.
Perhaps that’s what makes you the most wary about him. He says he’s not boyfriend material, but his actions betray his words. And you let them, every single time.
Jungkook smells like sunscreen, sweat, and a little bit of his cologne from earlier that morning. You’re hyperaware of him as you lounge on the cabana bed together, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his firm body.
His tattooed arm is tossed over his eyes, blocking out the sun as he snores a little. Careful not to knock into him, you lean over him and grab his phone to check the time. You haven’t been lounging in the sun long, but you don’t want him to get a sunburn.
Again.
You wager you can stay a little longer, placing the phone back down under his discarded shirt where it can hide from the sun’s heat. Sitting back in your spot, you pick up your book from your sweaty thighs as the sound of the gate to the pool yard opening catches your attention.
Some of Jungkook’s teammates live in the same apartment complex. It’s easier that way, especially for the players who get sent up and down from the minors. You catch a few of the younger players with a few girls you don’t know the name of tugging a cooler on wheels behind them with a speaker blaring.
Jungkook doesn’t so much as move. He can sleep through anything – has slept through you falling into his gaming setup while trying to get to the bathroom drunk. His slumbering leaves you to watch them head to the beds a few over from yours.
One of the girls notices you. You don’t recognize her specifically, but she recognizes Jungkook. Looks back at you. Frowns and mutters something to one of the other girls, who is not very subtle as she cranks her head around in your direction.
You don’t wince anymore. It’s not an uncommon thing, among these circles. You refuse to engage with any of it. You used to tell yourself it was because a casual whatever-Jungkook-is simply isn’t worth the drama. At night, you know you don’t engage with it because you don’t want to know.
Ignorance is bliss, especially in this dangerously plastic world Jungkook exists in.
Thankfully, you’re not alone in the matter. Jimin appears out of thin air, dropping down on the empty bed next to you. Namjoon – arguably Jimin’s better half and team captain – is nowhere to be found. Jimin lowers his shades and looks beyond you to the group of now rowdy players.
“Gross,” he huffs. He slides his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and stretches out on the bed like a cat. Jimin doesn’t play, but he certainly has the body of an athlete, all fine lines and corded muscle. “Ignore them.”
“I was doing that already.” You lift your book as if to prove yourself.
He snorts. “You were thinking about it, be honest.” Your silence is answer enough and Jimin grins, lacing his hands behind his head as he tilts toward the sun. “Don’t let Jungkookie burn again.”
“I’m not,” you huff before snapping your book shut. Jimin is in the circle of player’s partners that you genuinely enjoy, but he has the keen ability to get under your skin and tell you all of the truths that you don’t want to be voiced out loud. Still, having him on your side has more benefits than just keeping the hyenas away from you. He’s also genuinely nice when he wants to be. “Jungkook, wake up.”
The man mumbles and turns his head away from you. You sigh heavily, squeezing his strong, very sweaty arm gently. “Come on, you’re gonna burn if you stay out here any longer.”
“Mm. Feels nice.”
“A sunburn won’t feel nice.”
“You can rub aloe all over me.”
“I will not.”
“Just five more minutes.”
“Jeon.”
He drops his arm from his eyes, squinting in the bright light at you. His hair is damp with sweat and hangs in his eyes. He’s been growing it out longer and longer, especially since Seokjin keeps encouraging Jungkook by telling him he has the best flow on the team.
“So you don’t want to rub aloe all over me?”
“You don’t need to get sunburned for me to touch you, Jungkook.”
“Bleh,” Jimin grunts.
That makes Jungkook sit up, rolling his shoulders and twisting to pop his back. He sighs for a moment, closing his eyes as though willing himself to get up. When he opens them again, there’s a light in them and he smirks, looking you up and down.
“Wanna shower?”
Your mouth twitches and you roll your eyes to hide how much you want to shiver. “Come on,” you sigh, getting up, the fabric of the sunbed clinging to your sweaty skin.
Eyes cling to you as you pull the sundress over your head and slide your sandals on. You don’t have to glance over at the mini-party a few sunbeds over to know you’re being watched. You suppose they’re watching Jungkook more than anything, but you’re in direct view behind him, grabbing your book.
You know Jungkook notices them. He says nothing, though. Instead, he offers his hand out when you shove all your belongings in a bag, wanting to carry it. You grin and hand it over to him, smile growing as he shoulders it easily and offers his hand again, this time for you to take.
And you do take it. Perhaps the satisfaction that thrums through you as he leads you out of the pool yard and onto the deck that crosses the lake toward his apartment building is a little bit insidious. You don’t care. The momentary triumph that you shouldn’t be feeling at all is far too powerful and Jungkook’s hand is far too warm and safe in yours to care about why you feel good about the public display of affection.
It isn’t like he hasn’t done it before. Jungkook isn’t shy with others in front of you. It’s what makes the whole thing worse, somehow. Because Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material, but he introduces you to people and friends and slides between your legs to lean on you when you’re sitting on a barstool. He holds your hand when you go on a lunch and shopping spree with your mom and he brings her coffee and flowers.
Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material, but you don’t care when the shower hits the warm skin and runs down your back as he presses your chest to the cold shower wall in front of you. The cool stone stings against your nipples, over-sensitive and sending a shiver down your spine as your eyes flutter shut.
Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material, but he curses low under the sound of the shower as he pries your legs apart, tongue seeking the heat between them hungrily. Your mouth falls open as Jungkook’s tongue licks you soft-slow, lips sucking gently against your clit.
“Shit,” you hiss. The difference in temperatures between the hot water and the cold wall makes the room spin. Steam makes it harder to breathe, your head pleasure-dizzy as Jungkook laughs and rolls his tongue lazily around your dripping cunt. “Fuck.”
Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material, but he eats you out slow and hungry. He doesn’t care that the water starts to lose its warmth as his mouth works you, smacking his lips loudly and moaning, vibrations going straight to your core where you drip on his soft tongue.
His hands grip your ass, fingers digging into the flesh as he pries you apart further, tongue delving into your aching hole. He slurps at you, mouth loud and sticky over the sound of your panting and the water hitting the tile floor. His little hums of appreciation buzz through you, making the room spin.
“Fuck,” you whisper, pressing your cheek to the wet, cold stone as you try to ground yourself. You twist an arm backward, gripping Jungkook’s wet hair. He lets out a loud groan in appreciation, always pleased when you pull on his hair. “Don’t stop.”
Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material, but he does whatever you want him to. His tongue delves in, working you to orgasm until you’re shaking against the wall, knees knocking together and nearly collapsing on him. He catches you easily, standing and pressing you against the wall as he grabs your chin and brings your mouth toward him, his to devour.
Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material.
But more than anything, you want him to be.
#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook smut#bts smut#jungkook fic#jeon jungkook fic#jungkook bts fic#jungkook x you#jungkook x reader#bts fanfic#100 drabble challenge
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BLACK CAT GIRLFRIEND | Spencer Reid x reader
request: Hey Congratulations on the 2K! Do you think you could write something with Spencer Reid and a Reader who has lots of tattoos and/or piercings? Like she's the whole "bad girl" stereotype but Spencer and her complement each other so well and have a very sweet and mature relationship. I would love something like that.
description: the team meet Spencer's new girlfriend and she doesn't look quite like they'd imagined
word count: 1.1k
main masterlist
authors note: I officially hit 2k followers this morning!! see my post here for requesting but lets start this milestone off with a bang!! thankyou so much :))))))
Morgan had to admit, you weren’t exactly what he’d envisioned when Pretty Boy had been talking his ear off for months about the girl in his apartment building that had slipped him your number. He wasn’t judgemental, not by a longshot, but Spencer had always seemed like the type to date the preppy, library geek, or even the cutesy geneticist if Maeve had been anything to go off of.
It’s not like you weren’t hot, he could see that you were a mile away, but you looked like you’d sooner break someone’s wrist for so much as talking to you than fall for their resident genius.
You smiled tightly, shaking Derek’s hand with a crushing grip, as Spencer introduced you to his team, the obnoxiously loud bass almost drowning out his words as the six of you stood in the bar.
“Nice to meet you, Spencer talks about you all the time,” You said politely, and no sooner had you let go of the man’s warm hand, two arms were thrown over your shoulders and you were tugged into a hug.
“I’m Penelope- oh you’re so pretty, Morgan isn’t she so pretty? You should marry Spencer then you can be boyfriend girlfriend for, like, life-” The perky voice was all a jumble as the blonde pulled away, cupping your face, rubbing down your arms kindly, sweetly, like you were swallowing a warm spoon of honey.
“Penelope, newbie rules, remember,” Emily chimed in, seeing your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion of personal space. She could see this ending with the pretty pink bows Garcia had plaited her hair in torn to shreds on the sticky floor, right next to her long barbie locks if your intimidating figure was anything to go off, “Not everyone likes hugs,”
“No, no,” You replied, smiling gently at the woman who was softer than cotton candy, “Hugs are nice,”
“We’re going to be very best friends, I can feel it, which is funny because my tarot actually said I’d meet a strong Taurus woman- or are you a Scorpio-” Penny’s smile was dazzling, but she was soon ushered to let go of the bear like grip she had on your shoulders by a chuckling Morgan.
“Let the other kids play with her, babygirl,” He said, and you were pulled in another direction towards Emily who gave a polite handshake.
“Nice ink,” She said with raised brows as she saw the intricate sketches that covered the back of your hands, trailing up your arm and under the band tee you wore. She knew who they were, though they only dragged up memories of her own days of thick eyeliner and rebelling against her mother. “They must have hurt like a bitch, I got one on my hip and could barely sit for one hour,”
You snickered, nodding, seeing her eyes trailing over the ones on your ankles and knees where your ripped jeans flashed them all.
“Bones hurt the most, though the one on my ass is up there for the worst ones,” You replied, and Penny’s brows shot into her hairline, though she giggled like a schoolgirl being told a secret.
“I think we’re gonna need to see the proof on that one,” Morgan teased flirtily, the way he always did, the way he did even with JJ who had a whole child and partner, because it was his natural state of being.
Spencer smiled as his team warmed to you, though he was quick to pull you to him with a gentle arm around the waist. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Derek, that man was practically his brother, he’d taken bullets for the guy, but he liked having you close, even if to just remind himself that you were all his, including said tattoo on your buttcheek that he’d seen plenty of times.
The team didn’t need to know that, but you could tell your words had reminded him of it as he pressed a shy kiss behind your ear.
He was careful to avoid the studs and links that glittered from your ear lobe, wrapping over the cartilage on your helix, though he loved to stare at them on nights where you tied your hair up and he could count every one of them. To him you were a work of art, complex and detailed with every glance he stole. You were an illustration in one of his many books, everything he imagined for himself times a million.
“I’m going to go get a drink, do you want one?” You said, looking up at him with puppy eyes, like a lovestruck teenager, fat adoration in your gaze. It oozed out of every inch of you, and JJ thought for a moment that you looked nothing like the scary doberman woman that Spence had originally brought over to meet them. You looked in love, the saccharine, soft and dazed kind of in love.
“Let me get it for you,” Spencer rooted around his pocket for his wallet, turning to see Morgan’s beer bottle running low, “You having another one?”
“I’m good, my man, you just sort yourself and your lady out,” Derek flashed him a thousand watt smile and clapped him on the shoulder as you entwined your fingers with his, pulling him through the cluster of people and towards the bar, “What a stud,”
Penelope giggled again, leaning towards her adonis best friend with honeyglow cheeks, watching their genius get led like a dog on a leash.
“Oh lover boy had got it bad,” She drawled, watching Reid, their Reid, develop an uncharacteristically protective stance as a few men at the bar shot looks up and down your body. She couldn’t blame them either, you were a sight for sore eyes. “Okay, so do I have to be the first one to point out how hot she is or have I maybe had one too many margaritas?”
“She seems nice,” JJ chose her words carefully, still not entirely sure she would have ever put the two of you together but she saw the way Spence’s eyes got round and longing when he looked over you. He’d clearly said something to make you laugh, and an inked hand raised up to brush his chocolate curls out of his face lovingly, “She seems good for him,”
A murmur of agreement ran through the four of them, Emily taking one more sip of her martini as her eyes roved over your figure returning with something fruity and colourful, “Anyone else dying to know what’s on her ass?”
-
#Spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic
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Grid Kids
Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers
Summary: your adopted family may be chaotic but you wouldn’t change it for the world
Series Masterlist
Max Verstappen: Jailhouse Rock
It’s an ungodly hour of the morning when your phone rings. You groan, fumbling blindly on the nightstand to silence the offender. The name glowing on the screen gives you pause: Max Verstappen.
“Seb,” you mumble, nudging your husband awake. “Max is calling. It’s 3 am.”
Sebastian grumbles something unintelligible, face squished into the pillow next to you.
“You take it,” you insist, poking him again, “I spent three hours on the phone with Lewis last night promising him that Roscoe doesn’t hate him for being left at home this weekend.”
Reluctantly, Sebastian sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He swipes to answer, his groggy voice filling the silent room. “Max, do you know what time it is?”
You hear a hurried explanation from Max’s end, something about a go-kart race, a party, and a tiny misunderstanding with local law enforcement. Your husband’s face becomes more incredulous with every word.
“Wait, you’re where?”
***
Ten minutes later, you find yourselves at the police station, bleary-eyed but amused. Max is sat behind bars, a sheepish look on his face.
“I promise, it wasn’t my fault,” he insists, blue eyes pleading.
You both manage to suppress your laughter. After signing a few papers, Max is free but the smug grin on Sebastian’s face tells you that he’s not going to let him off that easy.
“So, this is our life now?” you whisper to Sebastian, wrapping your arm around his. “Running a day care for unruly F1 drivers.”
He chuckles, giving you a light kiss on the forehead. “I think we make a pretty good team.”
Charles Leclerc: Open the Floodgates
It’s a stormy evening when your phone buzzes again. This time, it’s a text message from Charles Leclerc: Hey, can I crash at yours? My flat’s kind of … flooded.
Sebastian, reading over your shoulder, raises an eyebrow. “Flooded?”
Before you can respond, a photo arrives — Charles’ living room, a sea of murky water with floating furniture: Okay, maybe more than just kind of.
You look at each other, suppressing laughter. “Guess we’re running a bed & breakfast now too,” you comment, already texting Charles back: Come over. Bring a mop.
***
Not an hour later, there’s a knock at your door. Charles, drenched from head to toe, stands at your doorstep, carrying what appears to be a plant pot with a small, equally wet cactus.
“I saved the cactus,” he says, looking as pitiful as a drowned rat, albeit a very cute one. He offers a half-hearted shrug, “I didn’t want it to drown.”
Sebastian bursts out laughing, his contagious mirth echoing around the hall. You can’t help but join in, hugging your sides in an attempt to remain composed.
“Well, come in. We can’t have you and the cactus catching a cold.”
***
Over the next few days, you quickly adapt to the unexpected housemate situation. Charles proves to be a surprisingly tidy guest, always washing his dishes and even cooking dinner one night (although you had to discreetly order pizza after trying his special lasagna).
In the evenings, the three of you curl up on the sofa with Sebastian’s old race replays, laughing and teasing each other. And every night, before he goes to his bed in the guest room, Charles says goodnight to his cactus — the newest member of your eccentric family.
Lance Stroll: The Cat-astrophe
A week later, you get a frantic call from Lance Stroll. “Guys, I found this cat,” he says, panting heavily, “It was all alone in the alley and I couldn't just leave it there.”
The line goes silent for a moment before Lance coughs then sneezes loudly. “Uh, guys, I think I might be allergic ...”
***
When Lance arrives, the culprit — a tiny, scruffy looking kitten — is perched on his shoulder while Lance himself is a picture of misery: puffy eyes, runny nose, and all.
Between his sneezes, Lance pleads, “Can you please keep her until I figure out what to do? I can’t just abandon her.”
You glance at Sebastian, who looks at the tiny furball with a mixture of amusement and concern. He’s been a dog person all his life but how can you say no to those pleading green eyes?
And so, your home expands to accommodate another kid — this time, a four-legged one.
***
The next few days are full of chaos. The kitten — whom Lance named Speedy — turns out to be an agent of destruction, knocking over everything in her path and giving Charles’ cactus a few worrying near misses.
You try to give Lance advice on finding a new home for Speedy while dealing with cat-proofing your own. But, during the ensuing pandemonium, you can’t help but laugh.
George Russell: The Shrunken Sweater Saga
One sunny afternoon, George Russell bursts through the door, a panicked expression on his face. “Guys, something terrible happened!”
Sebastian and you exchange a concerned look, jumping up from where you were cuddled on the couch. “What is it, George?”
He holds up a shrunken cashmere sweater, once a luxurious wardrobe piece, now resembling something only a toy poodle could wear. “I accidentally put all my sweaters in the washing machine! They’ve shrunk!”
As the reality of the situation sinks in, you can’t help but chuckle. “George, you do know cashmere isn’t machine-washable, right?”
“I thought they were!” he laments, looking at his miniature sweater in disbelief.
Sebastian claps a hand on George’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, mate. We’ll figure this out.”
***
Over the next few days, you and Sebastian embark on a quest to save George’s beloved cashmere sweaters. Armed with online tutorials and gallons of fabric softener, you attempt various rescue techniques.
Some of the sweaters regain a semblance of their former glory while others are beyond saving. You present George with a colorful assortment of shrunken clothing which he accepts with an embarrassed grin.
***
A sudden thought strikes you and you can’t help but giggle. Holding up a particularly tiny sweater, you call out to Speedy.
“Look, Speedy! It’s your size!” you exclaim as you gently dress her in the shrunken garment. It fits her perfectly, making her look like the most stylish cat on the block.
The sight of Speedy strutting around in a cashmere sweater breaks all of you into laughter. Even George can’t help but chuckle, despite his heartbreaking loss.
***
In the following days, Speedy parades around the house, flaunting her new wardrobe. George’s shrunken sweaters have found a new purpose, and despite the initial panic, everything worked out in the end.
“This is the most high-fashion cat I’ve ever seen,” Sebastian comments one day, watching Speedy strut her stuff on the living room rug. “She should be on a runway.”
George, watching his beloved sweaters being put to good use, grins. “I think they look better on her than they did on me.”
Speedy watches you with a lazy stare, now comfortably nestled in her new family’s hearts (and cashmere sweaters).
Lando Norris: Call the Milk Man
It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon when the doorbell rings, jolting you out of your peaceful nap. Groggily, you stumble towards the door, pulling it open to reveal a sheepish-looking Lando Norris.
“Hi, I was just wondering,” he starts, shifting nervously from foot to foot, “Do you have some milk I could borrow? I ran out and the shops are closed.”
Suppressing a smile, you nod, motioning for him to wait while you go fetch the milk.
***
When you hand Lando the milk, he seems relieved. But then, he looks at the container quizzically. “Why is it in a glass bottle? Don’t you use cartons?”
Your laughter fills the hallway as you explain your household’s eco-friendly policy. Lando listens attentively, his previous discomfort replaced with genuine curiosity. You can tell he’s taking mental notes.
***
Over the next few weeks, Lando pops by more frequently. Sometimes he borrows more milk, other times he just wants to chat about sustainability, an interest sparked during his first milk visit.
One day, he arrives at your doorstep with a broad grin and a glass bottle in hand. “Look, I’ve switched to glass milk bottles too!”
Sebastian will be proud.
Mick Schumacher: Comfort in Company
One evening, you find Mick Schumacher sitting alone in your backyard, gazing at the stars. His usually cheerful face is thoughtful, his eyes a little glossy.
“Mick, everything alright?” you ask, settling down next to him on the grass.
He looks at you then at the stars again. “I just ... I miss my dad, you know?”
The silence hangs in the air, thick with emotions. You reach out, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay to miss him. You don’t have to hide it. Especially not here with us.”
He nods, wiping his eyes. “I know. It’s just some days it hits harder than others.”
You stay with him, listening as he talks about his dad, his memories both sweet and poignant. You realize that while you’ve adopted your grid kids into your chaotic family, they each come with their own sets of joys and sorrows.
***
Sebastian joins you two after a while and the three of you sit under the stars, sharing stories and remembrances. Mick smiles as Sebastian tells him stories about racing with Michael, the camaraderie they shared, and the respect they had for each other.
By the end of the night, Mick seems lighter, the earlier sadness replaced with a soft smile of remembrance. He thanks both of you for listening and understanding. “You guys really are like a second family to me.”
The Big Announcement
One sunny afternoon, you gather all your grid kids in the living room. The chatter is lively, the room buzzing with energy as they try to figure out why they’ve been summoned.
Sebastian gives your hand a reassuring squeeze as you both stand in front of your unconventional family.
“We’ve called you all here because we have some news,” you begin, heart pounding in your chest.
***
When you finally tell them you're pregnant, the room falls into a stunned silence, their wide-eyed expressions making you chuckle. But then, as the news sinks in, the silence is broken by whoops of joy and congratulations.
“Wow, so we’re going to be big brothers?” Max exclaims, while Lando jokes about teaching the baby to prank Sebastian, Mick looks almost teary-eyed with happiness, and George immediately volunteers for babysitting duties.
***
With your pregnancy announcement, your grid kids go into overdrive. They begin to dote on you in a way that’s both touching and a little overwhelming. From Charles insisting on cooking you healthy meals (despite his previous lasagna disaster) to Max bringing you comfortable pregnancy pillows, everyone tries to make you as comfortable as possible.
Lance even makes Speedy wear a bell around her neck in case she inadvertently startles you. The cat isn’t pleased but the sight of her jingling around the house keeps everyone entertained.
***
As the weeks go by, their concern borders on overprotectiveness. They fuss over you at the smallest things, like Max insisting on driving you to your doctor’s appointments because he’s “the fastest driver” or Lando continually adjusting the house temperature to ensure you’re never too hot or cold.
While their actions are well-intended, they often become hilariously excessive. One day, you find Mick baby-proofing the house even though the baby isn’t due for months. He sheepishly shrugs, “Just trying to be prepared.”
***
Despite the chaos, their actions stem from love and concern, which warms your heart. One evening, you find yourself surrounded by your grid kids as you sit in the living room, their laughter filling the air.
As you watch them, your hand gently resting on your growing belly, you can’t help but feel grateful. These young drivers, your grid kids, have become such a vital part of your life. Their genuine care and, at times, overzealous concern during your pregnancy only emphasize the strong bond you share.
Your family may not be traditional and your daily life may be filled with mayhem but it’s your life with Sebastian and the grid kids. It’s chaotic, hilarious, and unpredictable — and you wouldn’t trade it for anything else.
The Big Day
The day finally arrives when you’re rushed to the hospital. Sebastian is by your side, holding your hand through every contraction, while your grid kids anxiously wait in the waiting room, pacing and biting their nails.
A few hours later, when your newborn daughter makes her entrance into the world, Sebastian walks out to the young drivers, his eyes sparkling with joy and exhaustion. “You can meet her now.”
The joy and anticipation in the room is palpable as they rush in, crowding around the hospital room door in their eagerness.
The sight that greets them is nothing short of heartwarming. You’re in bed, looking tired but blissful, a tiny bundle nestled in your arms.
As they take turns holding the little one, their faces light up in awe. From Max’s gentle cooing to Lando’s finger being gripped by tiny hands to Mick’s unashamed happy tears to Charles’ whispered lullaby in French and George’s soft-spoken promise to be the “coolest brother,” the room is filled with a warm sense of family.
Even Speedy, smuggled into the hospital in Lance’s jacket, gets to sniff the newest human member of the family, much to the nurses’ chagrin.
A Baby in the Paddock
Several months later, the paddock welcomes an unexpected visitor — your baby daughter, wrapped snugly in a cute onesie with a tiny racing helmet print. As you push her stroller through the crowd, your grid kids and their fellow drivers are visibly smitten by the adorable sight.
Your grid kids instantly surround your daughter, their faces lighting up as they coo and make silly faces to elicit giggles. They take turns pushing her stroller and you can’t help but chuckle at their enthusiasm in their newfound roles as big brothers.
Sebastian, ever the proud father, looks on with warm amusement as he watches your daughter bond with her extended family.
***
Amid the hustle and bustle of the paddock, your daughter experiences her first pit stop as Charles and Lando try to change her diaper. Even Mick, the baby-proofing master, hovers nearby to ensure everything goes smoothly.
You can’t help but admire their dedication and the way they’ve embraced their roles as her protectors and playmates.
***
At the end of the day, you gather the whole group for a family photo. Your daughter, held by Max and Mick on either side, steals the show with her toothless grin.
As you look at the photo later, you realize that this quirky, chaotic family has grown and changed in the most beautiful ways. Your daughter has been embraced by these young drivers, who have become her brothers and protectors, just as they’ve become sons to you.
A New Racer on the Track
Years pass in the blink of an eye and soon your little girl is no longer a baby. She’s grown into a lively child with a love for speed, much like her father. Today, she’s ready to participate in her first karting race, and the whole gang — your grid kids now with seven World Championships between them — are here to support her.
As they gather around the track, an old joke resurfaces. Max points at a particular bend in the track, nudging Charles with a smirk. “Remember the inchident?”
Charles groans, rolling his eyes, “Not this again. It was years ago!”
Laughter breaks out among the group, their bond echoing through the years.
***
Before the race, each of your grid kids offers your daughter their sage advice. From Lando’s “always keep your cool” to George’s “remember to enjoy the ride,” her brothers are keen to impart their wisdom. Mick even attempts to show her how to properly do a pit stop, using a toy car and tiny plastic cones.
Your daughter, with a sparkling helmet almost too big for her head, listens earnestly, her wide eyes moving from one brother to the next.
When the race finally starts, your grid kids cheer on loudly, their voices carrying over the vroom of the karts. The sight of your daughter, determined behind the wheel of her tiny kart, brings a surge of pride and a few tears to your eyes.
As the race ends, your daughter crosses the finish line in third place, a beaming smile on her face. She’s welcomed back to the pit by a roaring cheer from her family, her brothers lifting her onto their shoulders.
***
That night, the celebration is filled with laughter, teasing, and an impromptu re-enactment of the inchident by Charles and Max, much to your daughter’s amusement.
Sebastian lifts his glass for a toast, “To our little racer, may you always find joy on the track. And remember, an inchident is only funny if it doesn’t happen to you.”
Laughter fills the room once again, and you can’t help but marvel at the love and joy surrounding you. These are the moments you cherish the most, moments of laughter and unity shared with this extraordinary, unconventional family.
As you watch your daughter being coddled and celebrated by her brothers, you realize that this legacy of love and support will always continue, and for that, you couldn’t be happier.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#sebastian vettel x reader#max verstappen x reader#charles leclerc x reader#lance stroll x reader#george russell x reader#lando norris x reader#mick schumacher x reader#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#sebastian vettel imagine#max verstappen imagine#charles leclerc imagine#lance stroll imagine#george russell imagine#lando norris imagine#mick schumacher imagine#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader
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𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐀𝐢𝐧'𝐭 𝐍𝐨 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 ♡
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐈'𝐦 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐝 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮
Spencer Reid x f!reader || Series masterlist || Series playlist
Main masterlist || can also be read on ao3 || Next chapter
summary: After having worked for the BAU for two years, you have seen and experienced a lot, but after a series of murders of young married couples, you’re asked to do something that you never had thought you would have to do; going undercover, as an expecting, married couple, with Spencer Reid.
word count: 5.8k
warnings/tags: Eventual smut! (18+, mdni!) Undercover as a married couple. Pretend pregnancy. Language. Drinking. Angst and fluff. Slow burn. Mutual pining. Coworkers to lovers. Not set at a specific time, but definitely somewhere in the early seasons. Reader uses she/her pronouns. Mention of canon-typical violence.
The table is a bit sticky, and the music could be better, but the drinks are decent and you’re just so happy to finally be out with your friends after what feels like forever. Your job is demanding, and being an FBI agent in the Behavioral Analysis Unit means that your work-life balance is almost non-existent. But tonight, you don’t want to think about the gruesome crime scenes or the long hours spent profiling and investigating violent crimes, all you want to do is have a good time and catch up with your friends. And finally having an occasion to dress up and feel cute isn’t bad either.
Closing your glossed lips around the straw of your Strawberry Daiquiri, you take a long sip and let the sweet, icy drink cool your throat as you sit back in your chair, listening to the lively chatter of your friends. Michaela and Piper are going back and forth about some new movie that you haven’t had the time to watch yet, and you and Janelle, who is sitting across from you, are laughing at their antics as you listen to their debate with half an ear, but you focus shifts as Janelle gently nudge your shin under the table.
“That guy is totally checking you out,” Janelle says with a playful raise of her eyebrow, gesturing towards the bar with her eyes, as she takes a sip of her Mai Tai, while Michaela and Piper continue their discussion about whether the final plot twist of the movie was too predictable or an actual genius twist.
You can’t help but let out a tired giggle and roll your eyes as you follow Janelle’s gaze, glancing over to the bar and catch the eye of a man who is indeed looking in your direction, but you quickly turn back towards your friend again. “I thought we had decided to just focus on having a girls’ night out tonight, no boys allowed?” you say, giving her a knowing look. She shrugs her shoulders and smiles jestingly.
“You can still appreciate the view, even if you’re not looking to buy,” she teases, taking another sip of her drink. You shake your head, laughing at her antics, but you can’t help but look over in the direction of the guy at the bar again. He catches your eye and flashes you a charming smile. He is cute, sure, but not cute enough for you to want to do anything about it.
But to be fair, he could be the cutest guy in all of D. C. and you probably still wouldn’t do anything about it. You don’t really have the time or energy for dating right now and you are not really currently in the mood for meaningless sex with a stranger either.
Your job consumes so much of your life already, and you’re content with just focusing on your career, or at least that’s what you tell yourself. Sure, it would be nice to have someone to share your life with, but what you’ve learned over the last few years is that most guys don’t understand the demands and emotional toll of your job. They either can’t handle the long hours, and all the time you have to spend on cases, or the gruesome details of your work, or they simply can’t comprehend the darkness that you have to face on a daily basis. And so, you’ve built up walls to protect yourself, to shield yourself from potential heartbreak or disappointment.
“You sure it’s not you who he’s checking out?” you ask, trying to shift the focus of the conversation away from your lack of interest in dating. Janelle laughs and shakes her head.
“No, I think he’s definitely into you,” she says, nudging you playfully.
“Well, I’m not interested, so he is all yours, Nell,” you reply, taking another sip of your drink as you give her a playful wink. Janelle just laughs and shakes her head.
“Nah, I’m good. I’m just here to have a good time with my girlies,” she says, raising her glass in a toast, making Machaela and Piper forget their never-ending debate and cheerfully join in.
Just as you’re about to raise your glass and join in the toast, your phone buzzes in your purse, interrupting the moment. You reach into your bag and pull out your phone, seeing Hotch’s familiar number flash across the tiny screen.
“Sorry, I have to take this,” you say with a sigh, standing up from the table giving your friends an apologetic smile. Your friends nod understandingly, knowing that your job always comes first as you excuse yourself from the table and head to a quieter corner of the bar to take the call. You feel a wave of exhaustion wash over you, knowing that your night out with your friends is about to be cut short.
“Yeah?” you answer, putting the phone to your ear, not bothering with any formalities as you know that Hotch is going straight to the point when he calls you outside of office hours.
“Sorry to interrupt your Friday night, but we’ve got a new case, high priority,” Hotch’s voice comes through the line, his tone serious and professional, but you can also hear the tired edge in his voice. It can’t be easy being the Unit Chief and always having to be on call, but you respect him for his dedication to the job. “I’m afraid I need you and the team back at the office ASAP.”
“I’ll be there as soon as possible,” you say, already mentally preparing yourself to switch back into work mode.
“Great, thank you, agent,” Hotch says, and you can hear the gratitude in his voice before he hangs up. You can only imagine how shitty it must feel to have to call in your team on a Friday night only a few hours after everyone has left the office. But that’s the nature of the job, and you have accepted it a long time ago, even though it means sacrificing your personal life and plans at a moment’s notice.
With a deep breath you take a moment to collect yourself, trying to shake off the disappointment of having to leave your friends behind. As you head back to the table to break the news to your friends, you can’t help but feel a pang of guilt for having to leave them hanging. They all look up at you expectantly, sensing the change in your demeanor. “I’m sorry guys, I have to go. Work…” you trail off, your voice apologetic, you hate having to disappoint them.
Michaela and Piper exchange sympathetic looks, while Janelle just nods understandingly. “It’s okay, we understand,” Janelle says, giving you a reassuring smile.
“I’m sorry I have to cut the night short,” you say, feeling the weight of disappointment settling in your chest.
“Hey, your job’s important, we’ll catch up another time,” Michaela says, standing up to give you a supportive hug. “And we are really proud of you, just so you know,” she adds, giving you a reassuring smile as she pulls back from the hug.
Suddenly you almost feel like you could cry. You spend so much time burying your emotions and focusing on the job that it almost feels overwhelming to be reminded that you have people outside of work who love and care about you. “Thank you, Kay,” you say, smiling back at her. You hug the others and say your goodbyes, before you quickly gather your things and prepare to head out and find a cab.
· · · · ·
Spencer is abruptly pulled out of his slumber by the sound of his phone ringing. The book he had been reading sprawled open in his lap. The softness of the armchair and the long week of work finally caught up to him, and he must have dozed off. He blinks groggily as he fumbles to grab his phone. He squints at the screen, momentarily disoriented from being woken up so suddenly. Seeing it’s a call from Hotch, he quickly answers, his voice still thick with sleep.
“Hello?” Spencer mumbles, trying his hardest to sound awake and alert despite his groggy state.
“Reid, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but we have a new case, high priority. I need you and the others back at the office ASAP, we will have a briefing as soon as you’re all here,” Hotch’s voice comes through the line, terse and serious, but also tinged with exhaustion.
Spencer’s heart sinks at the news, knowing that his plans of spending a quiet Friday night at home, recovering after a hard work week is now dashed, but he quickly pushes the book aside, already mentally preparing himself to switch into work mode.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he replies, removing his glasses that he had swapped his contacts out for earlier in the evening. Rubbing his eyes and sitting up straight, the sense of urgency now kicking in.
“Thank you, Reid,” Hotch says before ending the call, leaving Spencer to gather his things and head out to Quantico without delay.
As he makes his way out of his apartment and towards his car, he can’t help but feel a sense of disappointment at having his night disrupted once again by work. He had really been looking forward to a quiet night in, and finally enjoy a break.
Spencer watches the city lights pass by in a blur as he begins to make his way out of D. C., the reality of his job sinking in once again. He knows that as a part of the BAU, his work is never truly done. The cases are always waiting, the criminals are always out there, and the demands of his job are always pressing. And while he loves what he does and finds fulfillment in helping to catch the most dangerous offenders, and having his mind challenged, there are days when he longs for a sense of normalcy, for a break from the darkness that seems to follow him everywhere he goes.
With a deep breath, he steels himself for the long night of driving and work ahead, knowing that he may not see his bed again for a while.
· · · · ·
As you arrive back to Quantico, you rush into the FBI building, quickly making it through the security check. The heels of your stilettos click loudly against the floor as you hastily make your way to the conference room. The short, tight dress that had made you feel so confident just a few hours ago now makes you feel exposed and vulnerable as you walk through the sterile hallways of the building.
You try to pull down the short hemline of your dress, as you push open the heavy door to the conference room, but it doesn’t change the fact that most of your thighs are on display and that your tits are almost spilling out of the low-cut neckline. It is so rare that you get the opportunity to dress up and feel sexy, so you might have gone a little overboard with your choice of outfit for a simple girls night, or at least that is how you feel now as you’re about to walk into a room full of your colleagues, who aren’t that used to see this side of you, and are about to hear about the details of a violent crime case.
As you step into the room, you see that Derek and Spencer are already sitting at the big round table, waiting for the rest of the team to show up, Hotch is probably in his office getting more details for the briefing before the entire team is here. They turn their heads in your direction as you enter, and you can feel their eyes lingering a moment longer than necessary, seemingly surprised to see you in such attire.
“Damn, princess, you clean up well,” Derek says with a smirk, giving you a once-over. “You had a hot date tonight or something?”
You roll your eyes at his comment, knowing that he always loves to tease you about your personal life. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Morgan,” you reply with a raised brown and a playful smile, taking a seat at the table and crossing your legs and adjusting your dress as you sit down.
“Of course, I would like to know, that’s why I asked,” Derek chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “You come in here looking like that, and you expect us not to ask questions? I just need to know, is he more handsome than me, should I be worried?” he teases, earning another playful eye roll from you.
“Can’t a girl just want to look good for a change, without it having to be for a man?” you shoot back.
“What do you mean, for a change? You always look good,” Derek counters with a charming smile, before he turns to Spencer, who has been awfully quiet this entire time. “Isn’t that right, pretty boy?”
Spencer looks up at Derek and then at you, a faint blush rising to his pale cheeks. His hair is slightly tousled and he is wearing his glasses, making him look even more adorable than usual. You don’t know if it is wrong of you to think of your colleague as adorable, he is a grown man and exceptionally capable of his job, you respect him a lot, but you just can’t help but find Spencer extremely endearing.
“You don’t have to answer that, Spence,” you quickly interject, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable. You know that Spencer can be a bit awkward when it comes to social interactions and you don’t want Derek’s teasing to make him feel even more self-conscious.
You and Spencer have become good friends over the two years that have passed since you joined the BAU team, you and him are the youngest agents in the unit. You have always admired Spencer’s brilliant mind and his ability to remember almost everything he reads as well as his sweet, quirky personality. You have a mutual respect for each other’s intelligence and dedication to the job. You have also noticed the way he sometimes gets lost in his thoughts or stumbles over his words when he’s nervous, and you have always tried to support him and make him feel comfortable in social situations.
But despite being friends and good colleagues, there’s also always been a slightly awkward tension between you and Spencer, at least on your end, it’s not like it’s there all the time, but you do feel it from time to time. You are not even sure where it comes from or why it’s there, but there’s something about Spencer that can make you feel slightly flustered and unsure of yourself, if you ever stop to think about it. It’s probably just because you admire him so much and don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of someone you respect so deeply.
“No, it’s okay,” Spencer says, his usual rambling tone coming through as he speaks. “You do look very nice, tonight. Wait, no, I mean, Morgan is right you always look nice, but you also look real nice tonight,” he stammers, stumbling over his words as he tries to explain himself.
You can’t help but smile at his adorable awkwardness, grateful that Derek’s teasing didn’t faze him too much. “Thank you, Spence,” you say, giving him a kind smile and reaching out to pat his arm reassuringly, hoping to ease his discomfort. “I appreciate it.”
“Oh, so when it is him you appreciate it, I see how it is,” Derek jokes, earning a playful shove from you.
“Shut up, Morgan, you know that I love you,” you say with a laugh, playfully rolling your eyes at him, which makes him laugh, but you don’t get to continue your banter as the rest of the team starts to filter in, Hotch enters the room with a stack of case files in hand, his usual stoic expression in place as he takes his seat at the head of the table to begin the briefing.
“Thank you all for coming with such short notice,” Hotch starts, his voice authoritative and commanding. “We have a new case that just came in and it’s classified as high priority. A series of brutal murders have been reported in Northern California. Local police have finally reached out to us for assistance after multiple cases after two new victims were found earlier in the day. They have all been double murders, with the assumption that the victims have been stalked for a while beforehand, and are then killed in a very specific and violent manner. All have been young married couples, all under thirty, and in all of the cases, the female victim has been between five and nine months pregnant.”
As Hotch continues to outline the details of the case, you can feel the weight of the seriousness of the situation settle in the room. You are usually able to compartmentalize your emotions and focus on the task at hand, but the thought of innocent lives being taken in such a violent manner always hits a nerve and you feel a chill run down your spine as Hotch describes the details of the case, the gravity of the situation sinking in. This is a disturbing and horrific case, one that hits close to home for you as a woman.
As Hotch finishes the briefing he turns to Spencer. “Reid, I would like to have a word with you in my office. The rest of you, start looking into the evidence and see if we can find any leads or patterns that may help us track down the unsub.”
You watch as Spencer nods in acknowledgment, it’s clear that he is a bit confused about being called into Hotch’s office alone, as he follows Hotch out of the room, leaving you and the rest of the team to start digging into the case files and evidence.
· · · · ·
“Please take a seat,” Hotch says as he gestures towards the chair in front of his desk, as Spencer follows him into his office. Spencer feels slightly anxious as he takes a seat, his eyes searching Hotch’s face for any clues as to why he’s been called into his office while Hotch takes his seat behind the desk. Hotch clears his throat before speaking, his tone serious and professional. “I have something to ask you to do, and it’s not a small thing,” Hotch begins, his eyes fixed on Spencer. “I need you to think carefully before you answer.”
Spencer can feel how his heart starts to race, his mind already trying to anticipate what Hotch is about to ask him. “What is it?” he asks, his voice steady despite his growing nerves. Hotch takes a moment to gather his thoughts before he speaks again.
“I’ve spoken with the local authorities in California, as well as our own expert and with the circumstances of the case and lack of leads, we have decided that the best way to proceed is to send in two undercover agents that fits the profile of the victims, and I want to ask you to be one of those agents.”
Spencer’s eyes widen in surprise, his mind racing with the implications of such a task. Going undercover in a case like this would be incredibly risky, not to mention emotionally taxing and it is not something he has much expertise in.
“I understand that this is a big ask, but you fit the profile of the victims and your ability to think on your feet and adapt in high-pressure situations makes you the best candidate for this job,” Hotch explains, his eyes searching Spencer’s face for any sign of hesitation.
Spencer takes a moment to process Hotch’s words. He can see the logic in Hotch’s reasoning with the specific details of the case and the lack of leads; it might be the best way to proceed, and Spencer knows that it is only done when absolutely necessary. “And you’re sure I’m the best agent for the job, I don’t have much experience with undercover work,” Spencer says, keeping his voice as steady as he can while feeling the uncertainty within himself.
“You’re more than capable, Reid. Your intelligence and quick thinking are your strongest assets, and we have full confidence in your abilities. I would never ask this of you if I was not fully convinced that you are fit for this job. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I also know that you have it in you to handle it,” Hotch reassures him, his tone firm and unwavering.
Spencer nods, taking a deep breath as he processes the weight of the task that has been given to him. This is a very serious assignment, one he knows is crucial to solving the case and bringing justice to the victims. “If you believe I can do it, then I’ll do it,” Spencer says finally, his voice resolute.
Hotch nods, a sense of relief crossing his features. “Thank you, Reid. This means a lot to the case, and I know you will do a great job,” he says, his voice showing his appreciation.
Spencer reciprocates the nod, feeling a surge of determination coursing through him. It’s a lot to take in, and it takes his usually so fast thinking mind a second to realize that he won’t be going undercover alone. “Who will be the other agent going undercover with me?” Spencer asks, wanting to know who he will be partnering with.
“I have someone in mind, but I want to make sure that she is on board before we move forward.”
“Is it, Y/L/N?” Spencer can’t help but ask, his mind already considering the possibilities of who he is going to work undercover with, and you are the person in the unit that would fit the profile of the victim the best. He really hopes it’s gonna be you, even though a part of him also doesn’t want you to be put in a potentially dangerous position. Spencer knows that your skills and intelligence would complement his own in such a high-stakes situation. And most importantly he just really likes being around you. You are always so kind to him and you never fail to make him feel included and supported.
Hotch nods. “Yes, she fits the profile as well and I believe that she has the expertise for this kind of operation. I will speak with her and see if she is willing to take on this assignment. I trust that the two of you will work well together on this case and you seem to get along well, and that’ll be important in this case. I’ll have to be sure that the agents I’m sending in can deliver a believable performance.”
And that is when it really dawns on Spencer, the two of you are not just going into a dangerous situation together, you will also have to pretend to be a couple, a young married couple expecting a child. He had been so caught up in the seriousness of the assignment and the potential risks involved that he hadn’t even considered that part of going undercover with you.
The thought of pretending to be a married couple with you, even if it’s just for the sake of the operation, sends a wave of feelings and thoughts through him, too many at once for him to fully process. Sure, it’s all part of the job, but the idea of being so close to you and having to maintain that facade is a challenge he’s not sure he’s fully prepared for. The idea of playing the role of your husband, even if it’s just for work, is both exhilarating and absolutely terrifying at the same time.
But as Spencer looks into Hotch’s eyes, he sees the trust and confidence that his boss has in him, and he knows that he can’t back down now. He has a job to do, and he will do it to the best of his abilities, alongside you.
· · · · ·
After Hotch and Spencer left the conference room, you and the other agents moved back to your desks to go through the evidence and case files. You are now wrapped in the cardigan that usually hangs from the back of your desk chair and you feel a little more office appropriate.
“Damn, this is a tough one,” Derek says, shaking his head as he scans through the crime scene photos. “The level of violence in these murders is just brutal.”
You nod in agreement as you flip through your own stack of evidence, looking up from the file in your hand as Spencer and Hotch emerge from Hotch’s office, Spencer walking down the stairs to join the team, but Hotch stays back, his expression serious and you get a little surprised when he addresses you.
“Can I have a word with you in my office?” Hotch says, his tone somber before he steps back into his office.
You can’t help but feel a sense of urgency as you put down the file in your hand and get up from your desk. You pass Spencer at the foot of the stairs, his eyes flicking down to meet yours. “Everything okay?” you ask, a hint of concern in your voice. Spencer nods, but there is something in his eyes you can’t quite read.
“Yeah, uh… yeah, Hotch will explain,” he says, his voice slightly tense, and a slight crease is formed between his brows but the look in his brown eyes are soft as they meet yours.
“Okay,” you whisper, giving him a small smile, before you quickly step up the stairs, or at least as quickly as you can in your five inch heels. You feel a small knot of anxiety starting to form in your stomach as you step into the office, wondering what this is about.
The door clicks shut behind you, and you feel the weight of Hotch’s gaze on you as you stand in front of his desk. “Please, sit down,” Hotch says, his tone grave as he gestures towards the chair in front of him. You take a seat, feeling a sense of unease settling in your stomach.
Hotch’s expression is unreadable as he looks at you, and for a moment, you can’t help but wonder what all of this is about.
“I have a very big thing to ask from you, agent, and I want you to know that I’m asking this of you because I trust you can handle it. It’s a request, but the choice is fully up to you,” Hotch starts, his voice steady but filled with seriousness. “Due to the lack of leads and the nature of these murders, we have come to the decision to send in two undercover agents who fit the profile of the victims to try and draw out the unsub, and I would like to ask you to be one of those agents. Agent Reid has already agreed to take on the assignment, the two of you match the victim profiles, and I truly believe that with your skills and expertise, you would be the perfect choice for this task.”
You lean back in your chair as you let Hotch’s words sink in. So this is why Hotch wanted to talk with Spencer. Going undercover on a case as gruesome and high stakes as this is not something to take lightly, but with the circumstances of the case and the lack of current leads you can see the logic in it. It’s a risky move, but you know that sometimes risky moves are necessary in order to catch the unsub and bring justice to the victims.
“I know that this is a very big thing for me to ask of you, and I want you to know that I fully understand if you have any reservations or concerns,” Hotch continues, his tone earnest. “But I also believe that you have what it takes to handle this assignment, and your dedication to the job is unparalleled. I wouldn’t ask this of you if I wasn’t convinced that you could handle it.”
“I understand the gravity of this assignment, Hotch,” you say, your voice calm and steady, wanting to reassure him that you are aware of the importance of the task at hand. “I am aware of the risks involved, and if you think I’m the right person for the job, then I’ll do it.”
Hotch nods, his features softening. “Thank you, agent. I know this is a lot to ask, but I have full confidence in your abilities and I truly believe that you and Reid will be able to handle this assignment with the utmost professionalism.”
You nod in acknowledgment, a surge of determination coursing through you by your decision. You also can’t help but feel a sense of relief wash over you at the fact that Spencer will be the person going undercover with you. You trust him implicitly and that makes you feel a sense of ease.
“I will arrange for a briefing with you and Agent Reid to go over the details of the assignment. You’ll also have to go through a training course while we set up a location for the undercover operation, and you will of course be given your undercover identities. I’ll inform the rest of the team about the assignment,” Hotch’s words are firm and decisive, and you can see the weight of responsibility in his expression. “But you better get home and get some rest. You have a long and intense process ahead of you, agent,” he adds, a softer tone creeping into his voice.
“Copy that,” you reply as you stand up from your chair. Soon you’re back down in the bullpen, standing at your desk as you gather your belongings and start to make your way out of the office. Just as you’re about to close your purse, you catch Spencer’s eye from where he’s standing over at his own desk, and as you give him a tired smile, which he mirrors, you swing your purse over your shoulder and walk over to his desk.
“So, Hotch asked you?” Spencer says as you approach him, his brown eyes meeting yours. You nod, the weight of the assignment settling in as you face each other.
“Yeah, he did. Looks like we’re partners in this one,” you reply, smiling at him once again.
Spencer nods, a small smile of his own tugging at the corners of his lips. You both stand there for a short moment, the weight of the assignment hanging heavily between you, before Spencer breaks the silence. “Do you need me to walk you to your car? I know the parking lot is just outside and that we have security, but still.”
You feel a wave of gratitude wash over you for his offer, and you can see the concern in his eyes as he looks at you, but that is also when you remember that you didn’t drive here yourself.
“Thank you, that’s really sweet of you,” you say, feeling touched by his concern. “But I actually didn’t drive here tonight, I took a cab.”
“You took a cab all the way from D. C.?!”
You laugh at his surprised expression. “Yeah, I was out, I didn’t have my car and I also had had a few drinks.”
“You should have called me, I could have picked you up and we could have driven together,” he says, his tone filled with genuine concern. You can’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness.
“I appreciate that, Spence. Maybe next time,” you say, giving him a grateful smile. You know that Spencer is always willing to go above and beyond to help his friends and colleagues, and you can’t help but feel extra lucky to have him as a partner in this assignment.
“Well, you have a ride back home now,” he says, offering you a gentle smile.
“That’s nice,” you reply, with a bright smile, feeling very grateful for his offer. You had expected to get a lift from one of your colleagues when you drove out here, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to get hold of a cab this late out here, but it feels really nice that you didn’t even have to ask for one.
“Of course,” Spencer replies, his smile growing wider. Soon the two of you are stepping out of the FBI building and are met with the brisk night air, your feet are hurting and the cool air makes goosebumps rise on your skin. But almost before you get to register it, Spencer has removed his jacket and offers it to you. “You must be cold,” he says, giving you a kind look. You try to protest, but he insists, draping the jacket over your shoulders.
“Thanks,” you mumble, not feeling like protesting further as soon as the warm feeling of the jacket engulfs you.
Once you reach his car, he opens the door for you and you slide into the passenger seat, feeling a sense of gratitude for his kindness. “You want this back?” you ask, removing the jacket from your shoulder. You don’t really feel ready to give up the warm garment, but you also don’t want to assume that he offered it for more than just the walk to the car.
Spencer shakes his head as he settles into the driver’s seat and you watch him start the engine. “No, you just keep it.” You smile happily as you toe off your shoes and curl up in the seat draping the jacket over your bare legs, feeling like it is enveloping you in a comfortable cocoon of warmth and safety as Spencer starts the car and begins the drive back towards D. C.
The landscape passes by in a blur outside the window as the two of you drive in comfortable silence, the both of you seemingly getting lost in your own thoughts for a little while. The weight of the assignment in front of you settles heavily between you.
“I’m really grateful that you’re going to be my partner on this assignment,” Spencer breaks the silence eventually, his voice soft but filled with sincerity.
“Me too,” you reply, turning to look at him, a small smile tugging at your lips.
Another comfortable stretch of silence fills the car as you continue on your way back to the city. Despite trying to fight it, your eyes start to feel immensely heavy. Fatigue from a long day and the weight of the impending assignment finally catching up to you, and with the gentle lull of the car you never really stood a chance and soon you are starting to doze off, slowly sliding into the sweet embrace of sleep as you sink deeper into the soft car seat.
Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated :) let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapter ♡ edit: it would especially be nice if you reblog when you ask to be added to the tag list ♡
Taglist: @luivisa @babyspiderling @reidsdaisies @eddioto @sadroses98 @lovelyygirl8
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Summary: A year after your divorce, you and Bucky come face to face at your closest friends' wedding. Emotions run high, leading to a fiery confrontation that takes a detour to Bucky's hotel room, where the old flame might just reignite.
Pairing: ex-husband!Bucky Barnes x female reader
Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink, fingering, oral séx, no condom (but f is on birth control), language, a little alcohol, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 7.2K
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
What an ass... He has no shame at all. And the worst part? You’re still somehow surprised by it. As if you haven’t known him for years.
You look away, making sure to take a sip from your wine before focusing on the conversation again. It’s Nat’s big day, and you’re so happy for her, but listening to this story for the seventh time is exhausting. Same reactions, too: “Wow, he’s so well trained.” or “The wedding bands didn’t fall even once. Enzo is fantastic.” He’s a trained dog, you don’t get why they’re so fucking impressed.
You give Nat a smile before you excuse yourself to go to the bar. Maybe you should get a cocktail, the wine tastes terrible. On the way, you notice Steve talking to Miss Sunshine in the right corner, and you just nod toward him politely, trying to look unbothered. It’s his best friend’s girlfriend after all. What did you expect? Plus, maybe it’s just a polite conversation.
“A Sex on the Beach, please,” you murmur to the bartender.
“Vodka so early?”
You turn your head with a sigh just to see a guy you recognize from Nat’s engagement party. A fresh haircut, a simple suit and wandering eyes.
“Is there a time limit for a cocktail?” you respond, rolling your eyes when you notice he is still fixated on your chest.
He immediately raises his hands in defense as he takes a seat next to you.
God, if you hate one thing about being single besides the lack of sex is this… needing to deal with those men. It was perfect when Bucky used to take care of them.
“I didn't mean it like that, sweetheart.” You scrunch your nose instantly. God no!
“Here you go!” The bartender places the glass gently in front of you, and you’ve never been more grateful to see her.
“Thank you!” You smile before taking a huge sip, hoping it will turn him off and make him get away.
“A vodka tonic for me.” His tone is commanding, and you try not to roll your eyes again as he leans in closer. “We’re matching.”
“Huh?” You choke.
“Vodka lovers.”
Alright, time to get out of here!
You quickly grab your glass and stand up, making sure to fix your dress just in case, but his eyes are already on your breasts again. For fuck’s sake! How is he Steve’s cousin?
And talking about Steve, you almost jump when you hear him saying your name.
“Hey.” You’ve never been happier to see him.
You can’t say the same thing about his friend, who’s right next to him, looking the creepy blondie up and down.
“Is everything alright?” Steve asks with obvious concern. “Do you feel okay?”
“Hey, man! The food is great and the company even better. Look at her, such an eye candy, am I right?” He chuckles at his own disgusting comment. “I mean, you’re married. Don’t answer that, I don’t want Romanoff on my back.” And after all of this, he has the audacity to wink at Steve. But before you can throw your cocktail over his shirt and make a scene, Bucky’s already getting in front of you, blocking your view with his huge back.
“If you want to keep your teeth, get the fuck out of here and never, ever get even within three feet of my wife. Am I fucking clear?”
His tone is so cold, harsh, and arrogant at the same time, but also so possessive. It surprises both: you and Steve, because he immediately looks at you confused before dropping his eyes on your hand.
He must be looking for a ring.
God, you never hated Bucky more than when you see blondie standing up and going straight outside just like that. It makes you even angrier because it’s always a man who has to explain the obvious signs to these assholes so they leave. You say no? You are playing hard to get. You are with a man? Then it’s all off-limits.
You sip your cocktail with frustration, the taste of vodka lingering on your tongue.
Then, you take a step toward Bucky, grabbing his arm and turning him so he can face you. “Listen and listen good, I’m not your wife and I don’t need you to play the macho hero! I can handle myself, so back off!” You wanted to leave after saying this, but the way he looks at you makes you change your mind. His eyes softened, showing a trace of your old Bucky, and it only pisses you off more. He labeled you just like that... “I divorced you for a reason, I’m not your property or responsibility. Stay out of my fucking business or I’ll show you exactly how well I can take care of myself!”
You hand him your half-full glass and storm out, seeing red. Or well, blue.
You anticipated that he’d come after you, of course you did. You know him, as much as you hate to admit. You still know him well. Too well.
And when you hear his sigh behind you, you don’t jump.
“You can handle yourself, but he was all over you. Sorry for being a gentleman.” He apologizes sarcastically. “I guess old habits die hard.”
“Too bad, Barnes! I am not your little wife. I am not your girlfriend. I am not even your friend.” You turn your head to look at him as he’s standing on the other side of the balcony. “And I am not that flavor of the month of yours, you have to kill these habits.”
He raises his head. “Flavor of the month?”
“Yeah, your plus one. You know, you should take care of her instead of trying to play hero and calling me your wife.”
“Keeping an eye on me? He smirks. “Thought you divorced me for a reason.”
Fuck him! He thinks he got you... “I did! You couldn’t open your mouth to say what bothers you, remember?”
“Well, I opened my mouth to do something else, far more exciting.”
You gasp, incredulous at his audacity.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You scream, walking toward him. “Seriously!”
“What is wrong with me? You tell me! You divorced me for a reason.”
“Don’t you have someone else to bother? Fuck off already, Bucky!”
“You got angrier with me now than back there with him. Unbelievable!” He shakes his head.
You take a deep breath, trying not to have a crisis. You are not gonna let him get to you. “Look, can you just pretend this didn’t happen?”
He instantly looks at you shocked as he leans in. “This as in,” he waves between you two. “Our marriage? You think I can pretend our marriage never happened?” His voice grew louder, his words punctuated by sharp, angry inflections. “You think just because we divorced, you get to ask me that? How can you...”
You’re taken completely aback by his whole attitude, and it’s like you’re back in time at your wedding as he made you sneak out so he can make you come on his tongue after saying all sorts of things.
You don’t know why you suddenly remembered that, but you need to snap out of it.
“I meant the whole interaction, you annoying man!”
“How was I supposed to know?” He looks much more relaxed now, though, and before you can think about it, you’re poking his chest.
“Why would I tell you to forget about our marriage, Bucky?” You smile. “You are more than free to think about me as you fuck your little flavor of the month. I am not gonna stop that.”
You see his eyebrows raise instantly as his gaze drops to your finger. “My little flavor of the month? How many times did you think about me fucking her?” His hand finds your wrist. “Did you wonder if I’m fucking her from behind as I choke her? Did you imagine me coming all over her tits? Did you-”
You grab his cheeks, just the way he likes it, to stop him.
“You think I have nothing better to think about? I have my own dicks that occupy my thoughts,” you lie through your teeth, and he knows it. God, he knows it as he chuckles right away.
“What’s so funny, Barnes?” You let go, expecting him to do the same, but he’s still holding your other wrist.
“You have no dick to think about. I know you broke up with your last flavor of the month, honey.”
He knows how much you hate being mocked with the word honey, but you bite the inside of your cheeks. “It’s funny really,” you fake giggle, looking up at him. “You assume I don’t have someone already. Maybe I’m just enjoying my life after our divorce... new dick every month since I am a free woman. I don’t even need something serious. You know how much I love sex.”
His smile immediately drops, his face reddening.
“You are absolutely infuriating!” Even his tone carries a sense of irritation.
“Aww, what happened?”
It’s his turn to grab your face, making you gasp. You don’t remember the last time he touched you, and you’re shivering.
“You’re playing a very dangerous game, and you know it!”
“I don’t play games, Bucky, that is your specialty.” You smile, trying to maintain your composure. “Now let me go and get back to your little girlfriend. You can be mad about how many dicks she thinks about.”
“You can’t do the whole non-attachment shit. I know you well, don’t forget that. You’re my...” He talks so fast you’re surprised he stopped. You know what he was gonna say, of course you know. The audacity!
“I am not your wife, Bucky. You literally have a woman with you here tonight. We divorced, we live in separate places, and we fuck different people.”
“Who are you fucking, huh?” He almost spits the last words. “Tell me! Nat said you’re single.”
“You’ve been asking Nat about my personal life?” And she is spilling to him? No way.
“Fuck...” he frowns, dropping his hand from your face. “No.”
“Steve!” You realize. “God, this is pathetic! Why do you keep tabs on me, huh? Can’t you just mind your own business? Is your life goal to piss me off?”
“I’m not the one calling Jessica the flavor of the month.”
“Ha!” You laugh in his face. “Well, you have no success in getting a girlfriend. And they all look pretty familiar.” You can’t hide the venom in your voice. “The differences are they’re just taller and with less in the chest department. Quite interesting, don’t you think?”
“So you’re keeping tabs on me too!”
“You flatter yourself. It’s quite obvious, look at Jessica. Does she know you were married to me? Does she beg you to fuck her mouth? Does she...” You take a deep breath. “Does she call you daddy, James? Does she ride you until you lose control and turn her on her back so you can pound her?” You don’t care anymore. Right or wrong, you’re gonna let it all out. “Do you praise her? Tell her how wet she is for you? How your cock is made for her? Do you... do you tell her you love her while she’s coming? Do you fucking call her your good girl?”
“Jesus-” You don’t let him continue his sentence, interrupting him.
“Does she take you like I did? Does she beg for you because she feels empty, James? Does she? Did any of them?”
“Stop. It.”
“Why? You didn’t stop!”
He sighs, reaching out to grab your cheeks gently. “No one does, are you happy? I don’t even fucking try. I don’t let anyone call me daddy, I don’t choke anyone and I definitely don’t fuck anyone like I fucked you. Are you happy? Seeing me miserable and pathetic? Are you enjoying it?”
You can’t deny the satisfaction and relief you feel when you hear that. Dating post-him was a very bad experience overall, so him not upgrading, indeed, in any way, makes you feel victorious. At least, you’re both suffering.
“Yeah, I actually enjoy that.”
“What about you?” He snaps. “Do you do all of that?”
“I don’t want to be called daddy, James.”
“You know exactly what I meant! You call those losers daddy? You choke around their cocks? Do you beg for their small dicks to go deeper and finish yourself off after it?”
“Like I begged for your small dick?” You ask annoyed, knowing how dumb this lie is, but what else can you say? No one compares to him and never will.
His response shocks you as he reaches down to the zipper of his worn jeans and pulls it down.
“What the fuck are you doing? Are you crazy?”
“Wanted to, you know… give you more mocking material in case you forgot how small it is.”
You have to think twice about what to say because the first thought was: I have enough videos, thanks. But you can’t. You can’t expose yourself like that.
“James, what the fuck are you doing? Are you trying to hurt me?”
“With my small dick?”
You look away for a few seconds, not wanting him to read you. “Why are you doing this? We divorced, you’re seeing someone, I’m good by myself... just let it go.”
He smiles at that, and you realize you indirectly told him you are indeed not fucking anyone.
“Why would I let go of my wife?”
You’re slapping his chest before you realize what you’re doing. “Stop this, Bucky! Just fucking stop.”
He’s hurting you, how can he not see that?
“You said you divorced me for a reason. You said...” he pauses. “You ordered me to leave you alone. Well, what if I don’t want to?”
“What are you, a fucking stalker?”
“No!” He almost screams. “I am fucking in love with you, you infuriating woman!”
“W-what?”
He can’t be joking about this, can he? He is not cruel. He is not vile. This isn’t a game.
“I’m in love with you. I love you. You own me... you fucking control me.”
“How?”
He laughs hysterically, running his hands through his hair before pulling. “I am fucking obsessed with you: how you are, if you’re doing well, if you miss me, if you’re fucking someone else, if your date went great, if you regret being with me, if someone else makes you smile wider. I dream about you, I am so miserable I couldn’t be with anyone. With Mia it lasted a month. I wasn’t... I wasn’t okay. I am not okay.”
You look at him, waiting for more. “Go on and zip your jeans, we’re in public.” You watch him quickly do what you demand before you continue. “And what about Jessica tonight? Or Alexa a month ago? Why are you lying to me?”
“It’s not real. Jessica... I was just trying to make you jealous, okay? I was sneaking looks all night, have you not noticed at all?”
You don’t smile, despite your huge instinct to. Instead, you cross your arms, watching him drop his gaze straight to your boobs.
“Why would I notice, James?”
“Well, how did you notice Jessica looking a little like you, that she’s with me here?”
Fair point...
“Just...” You’re suddenly gripped by this crazy urge to just fuck him right here. You even regret telling him to zip back up. You could have just lifted your dress as he lowered his briefs and took out his cock. And just like that, you could have just fucked against the wall or something. You would have let him rip off your panties too. You just need his cock so badly! “Shut the fuck up!” You snap, grabbing him by his neck so he can lean in enough for you to be able to kiss him. And oh, you kiss him!
You don’t have to fight to dominate the kiss, surprisingly, because he lets you. He lets you bite his lip and almost draw blood, he lets you unzip his pants again and push down his unfit-for-a-wedding jacket, and most importantly, he lets you be his again, as pathetic as that might sound. You feel him emotionally, not just physically.
Without wasting more time, you drop to your knees, making sure only your dress and shoes touch the floor directly. You drag down his pants and briefs at the same time from your position, and he looks at you surprised.
“I thought we’re in public and you were fucking some-” his words die as you bring your tongue to the head of his cock, tasting the precum, but not sucking even a little bit.
“Weren’t you saying something?” You tuck your hair strands behind your ears as you mock him. You love being on your knees for Bucky. He has this dominant energy, but he always makes you feel in power even when he fuck your mouth. And you enjoy it, you feed on it. One of the reasons you missed him so much. And he can take mocking. “Please go on. I am all ears.” You breathe out on his dick. “And tongue.”
“Oh god,” Bucky’s voice is a moan at this point, and you laugh. So easy...
“I’m your god now? Aww! Come on, do I have to do everything tonight?”
He looks down at you confused. His blue eyes are almost grey, and you know he’s on cloud nine already just because you’re there.
“What?”
“Oh, you need translation. Well,” it’s all you say before wrapping your lips around his dick and using both of your hands to push him as deep as he can go inside your mouth. He moans at the same time you gag, and his balls slap you in the face. He instinctively looks at you to ask if you’re okay, but you are more than okay. You are fucking alive. You encourage him to fuck your throat at this point by squeezing his ass cheeks and touching his balls.
“God, look at you! That pretty black dress…” He pulls out and back in not as forcefully as he can, but enough to make you start tearing up quickly. “On your knees for your man. That mouth!”
You find yourself moaning at the feel of his fingers grasping and tugging at your hair. Jesus, how you missed this...
“You have the sweetest mouth.” Does he even realize what he’s mumbling? “I could die right here. Right now,” he says and thrusts harder, which makes you close your eyes. You can barely see anything because of the tears, and he’s already close. “My pretty baby, my fucking girl.”
You’re getting wetter and wetter the more he talks, and it’s crazy. You’re cold and your jaw is hurting, yet you love this.
“Not caring if someone can catch us, just making sure you mark me again. God, I'm gonna come, baby. Gonna... should I p-pull-”
You don’t let him finish his sentence as you grab his ass to make sure you keep him there, in your throat, as he comes while moaning your name.
When he finishes, he immediately helps you stand up, before he kisses you desperately, his tongue immediately licking your bottom lip to get access. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly. You moan in the middle of the kiss because his semi-hard cock is right where you need it, and it’s like torture...
“Need to taste you, okay, baby?” He asks with so much need in his voice. He sounds so whipped. “Need my pussy. Can I take you to my room?”
That is perfect, a dream at this point. But you need to make him a little more desperate.
“But the wedding… They would kill us.”
“I am sure you care sooooo much about this wedding and Nat’s stories. More than about getting my tongue on that pretty clit of yours and making you come all over my face.”
You can’t hold back your laughter.
“Fair point, Mr. Barnes. I deserve my orgasms, especially after listening to you pathetically trying to seduce me by admitting how desperate you are.”
“You dropped to your knees on this balcony just to mark my cock as yours.”
You pull his hair a little. “You said it yourself, it's already mine. Now get that ugly jacket and carry me.”
Bucky snorts, kissing your cheek. “You bought me that ugly jacket.”
“I know.”
*
You don’t know where you left your phone and even though you should feel panicked, you don’t. All you can focus on is Bucky taking off your dress and groaning at the sight of your cups. You couldn’t wear a full bra, so you improvised. They could barely hold your breasts, but no nipples showing? Win.
“Hurry up!”
“Jesus,” he moans and reaches for your cups. Desperate man... you roll your eyes, but let him uncover your breasts and grab them into his hands eagerly. He’s not just holding them, he looks and touches them as if he’s never seen boobs in his entire life, let alone yours.
“James...” You sigh, throwing your head back in pleasure when he finally gets your nipple into his mouth. Your hand finds his hair instantly, and you watch him suck happily while playing with your other nipple.
“You’re quite hungry,” you say with a smile, stroking his hair. You missed this so much. His need to always touch or sleep on your boobs, the way he grabs them while he’s pounding you... You shiver in anticipation when he switches to the other tit.
“Fucking shit, I missed them so much.”
You snort. “My boobs?”
“Mine.” He’s not sucking anymore, he’s eating them, shocking you.
“H-hold on a second, Bucky. They’re breasts, not my clit.”
“It’s been a year, love. Let me get my fill. I died without them. Died!”
As much as you wanted to think only about the part he missed your boobs, you can’t help the jealousy that clouds your mind. You were divorced, yet the image of him sucking someone else’s tits makes you want to hit a wall. Mia all over him... You pull his hair angrily. “You surely had other tits in your mouth, Bucky, for the past year. Don’t pretend this is any different.”
He immediately stops sucking. “You... you can’t believe this. Tell me you don’t believe this.”
You look away, too proud to face him. “What am I supposed to believe, huh? It’s been one fucking year.”
“I’ve been yours this whole year. I’ve been thinking about you, fucking my fist while watching... our videos, as fucked up as it might be. I tried to date, but I failed, and trust me, it has nothing to do with the size of my dick and my age. No one is you. No one smells like you or talks like you. No one is my brat with the god complex.”
“God complex?” You raise your eyebrow, keeping your face straight. “Fuck you.”
“I will fuck it out of you as I usually do, don’t worry.”
“Then why does it keep coming back?”
He chuckles. “Because you want to get fucked all the goddamn time.”
“Like you don’t!” You puff. “Come on, I breathe in your direction and you get hard, Bucky.”
“Did you see yourself? Did you have sex with yourself? You cannot judge me!” He grabs your breasts again. “There is no comparison, okay? You have no rival. Never did, never will.”
“That’s all?” You puff, amused. “My looks?”
“Do I even have to say… Your god complex exists for a fucking reason. You’re the smartest, most sarcastic, and feistiest person I’ll ever meet. One mocking comment, and you know how I get.”
“Pathetic?” You mock him on purpose just to get the reaction he is talking about. You love it when he compliments you.
“Is this why you divorced me? Cause I am a pathetic son of a bitch?”
You take a deep breath. “I divorced you because you refused to communicate properly with me anymore, and you know it.”
“So not because of my small dick, either,” he remarks, making you roll your eyes.
“No, your small dick is one of the reasons I am here.”
Bucky dramatically touches his heart. “So you’re using me for my sex skills!”
“As if you don’t beg me to use you. Come on, put that mouth to good use before Nat comes after us.”
He doesn’t disappoint as he finally rips your underwear off, just like you fantasized about, and you use this as the perfect opportunity to fish for more.
“What happened, Jamie? So eager. Aren’t you a little good-”
The word boy comes out as a moan when you feel his index finger curled up inside you suddenly.
“What happened, honey? Too big for you?”
“Dick!”
“You’ll get that. I just need to erase the memories of having little pencils in here. That must have been traumatic.”
“You’re such a jerk!” You snort, but he’s right. It was really bad.
Bucky shrugs, finally kneeling properly between your legs before lifting them on his shoulders. God, yes!
“Gonna give my pussy some loving.”
“D-didn’t know you have a pussy, James.”
He smiles against your inner thigh. “I certainly keep what I lick.”
“Eww, what the fuck.”
He snorts, kissing your slit. “I am joking, baby. Tried to imitate one of those dicks you thought you could replace me with.”
Petty fucking bitch! You grab him by his hair and push him closer to your pussy.
��Shut the fuck up and eat!”
His tongue feels like heaven, indeed, on your clit. You’ve lost count of how many times you remembered him eating you out so you can come this year. He's just so good at eating your pussy.
You let out a satisfied sigh when he adds a second finger. You start to feel like before… like you and Bucky are still married and with no problem. Like you're happy. He makes you so happy. Made.
So you stare at his hair and stroke it as he sucks on your clit, completely squashed between your thighs, and try to hold back your tears.
When he adds his third finger and starts tracing eight figures on your clit with his tongue before he flattens it, you know you’re about to come.
There is something about the way he always manages to make you vulnerable even if it’s not intentional, to cut you open and get in... and you don’t want it to be over. You can’t let him go again after tonight. You’d suffocate.
Your efforts to delay your orgasm and not tear up are futile because when he sucks a little harder, you come and start sobbing somehow. The orgasm is strong and even though you’d want to watch Bucky, you close your eyes, letting yourself go, and shut your mind down for a second. Everything feels so overwhelming. So amplified…
You’re grateful he doesn’t stop fucking you with his fingers, either, even though you felt him hesitating when he heard you crying. You really needed this.
As soon as you finish, you drop your legs, furiously trying to wipe your face. He knows the difference between crying because of a crazy orgasm and you being emotional. He instantly gets back on the bed next to you and pulls you into the tightest hug you’ve had in two years.
“God, I’m...” You don’t know how to continue this phrase. You should not feel sorry for crying and you’re not pathetic for it. “I m-missed you so much, Bucky. Why did you give up?”
You feel his warm breath on your forehead. “I never gave up, baby, I swear.”
“B-but you did. You didn’t even try for more than six months. When I told you...” You take a deep breath. “That I want a divorce, you didn’t even look at me. Once, Bucky! Not even once…” You show him your index finger. “You simply agreed. You gave up on us. I was waiting for you to say: no, let’s try. No, I’ll communicate. Your words...” You sob. “Your words would have been enough for me. You should know that.”
“Oh my god, baby, please, breathe!” He kisses your forehead over and over again. “I never gave up, I swear. I wanted to say no, I wanted to tell you all of that, but you asked me for divorce. It felt like you wanted out. You were tired of fighting... you were tired of me. And I didn’t want to tell you to stay just so you could either stay with me out of pity or reject me. I would have died... To look at you and beg, and to see you detached.”
You shake your head into the crook of his neck. He cannot...
“How would I be detached if I tried for six months? How would I get tired of you?”
“Exactly. You tried for six months. I thought you snapped out of it...”
“Out of what?” You whisper, scared to say it louder, but he hears you anyway.
“Out of love.”
You immediately lift your head to look at him. He’s crying, too. “Bucky...” You bring your fingers to his cheeks and start to caress them.
“I just couldn’t remember us like this. I couldn’t look into your eyes and see you staring at me like I’m a stranger.”
“Jesus Christ, when did we fail to communicate this much?”
He knows you don’t expect an actual answer, so instead of speaking, he holds you, and kisses you, and makes you giggle.
The more you move into his lap, the better you feel his erection pressing against your pussy. So close, yet so far.
He groans, placing his hands on your hips. “Careful.”
“Well, I don’t want you to be careful. I want you to fuck me raw right now.”
“Right now? He snorts, using his position to his advantage and moving. And just like that, you’re suddenly pressed with your back against the bed, and his mouth covers the valley between your breasts. That didn’t take a lot of convincing.
“Did you fuck anyone else without protection?” You ask unsure how to formulate it without it sounding a little weird. You’re not even sure you want to know the answer if it’s positive, but still.
“No. Only condoms and well... to be honest more my fist,” he chuckles, helping you get on your back again by bringing a pillow under your head. “I tested myself, of course.”
You nod, trying to hide your happiness. You selfishly wanted this: no one but you to feel him without any barrier.
“Good.”
“What about you?”
“No one for me, either.”
You would laugh at his proud face if you didn’t know he might use it to tease you later. You can use it too, though.
“Come on, baby, spread your legs for me. Daddy’s home.”
You laugh surprised, but you do what he says. You really missed having him between your legs.
Needy, you reach for his T-shirt, that for some reason is still on, and you tug it down, showing him you want it off.
He hesitates for a couple of seconds too long before grabbing his T-shirt by the neck.
“Come on, what did you do? Got a tattoo?”
You get your answer as soon as he’s finally naked.
“Oh, God!” You instantly lift your hand so you can grab his necklace. “What the fuck, James...”
“I told you I never gave up on us.”
“So you’re telling me you’ve been keeping it on since we divorced?”
He blushes, looking away. “Yeah.”
“Even when you were with other girls?”
Your heart is racing.
“Never took it off.”
You giggle, touching the surface of the ring over and over again.
“No wonder why nothing worked.”
“I had no intention to make it work.”
You say nothing, just looking into his eyes and letting him see how fucking much you love him, how he could never be a stranger, and you kiss him, wrapping your legs around his ass to show him what you need.
“I want you to pound me, okay? I want to feel you for days, do you hear me? I am so wet and ready. Please, just fuck me!”
You shiver a little when you feel the back of his hand brushing against your clit while he brings his cock to your entrance.
“Gonna make you mine again, alright? Gonna make you forget this year and everyone who,” He finally thrusts inside you. “Tried to get you.”
He’s thick. Really thick, and you can’t believe how you managed to survive without this stretched-out feeling for a whole fucking year.
“I hate you so much!’
He snorts. “I am pretty sure you love me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have my cock inside you after one year.”
“This is the problem!” You hiss when he pulls almost completely out. “One year, Bucky!”
“Aww!” He says a bit mockingly before thrusting all the way in again. Oh my God... you close your eyes. “Is this your bratty way of telling me you missed my small dick?”
“Bratty? You think this is bratty?” You ask him sarcastically before bringing a hand to his ass. “Harder!”
“Harder, huh?” He quickly unwraps your legs and turns you on your belly before you can react.
You gasp, shocked by how fast he is and hating the emptiness, but he ignores it, bringing a pillow under your pussy.
“Ass in the air, come on.”
You comply immediately, staring at his face from the side. He looks like he’s on a mission, with his hair already in all directions and the wedding band hanging around his neck.
The first thing you feel is his mouth on your ass cheek, licking on a spot before biting.
You hiss. “James!” It hurts, not more than a spanking, but you weren’t ready for that.
“Mine.”
You snort, wiggling your ass. “Yeah, yeah. Now gimme my cock.”
And he does. He so does, he’s not slowly entering you, no. He pushes in almost fully with only one thrust, making you bite into your pillow.
“You missed that, didn’t you? The way I fill you up is so good. The way...” He slaps your ass. “No one can make you feel so good. No one can fuck you like the desperate whore you are for my cock.”
You moan loudly into the pillow. You love being called a whore like this. Because he is right and he is obsessed with it, anyway. “B-Bucky...”
“Tell me whose cock you love? Tell me.”
He’s thrusting so fast at this point that you can barely even hear him.
“Bucky.”
“No, no, no. That is not what you call me like this.”
“James...”
He suddenly stops thrusting, and you whine, lifting your spinning head to look at him over your shoulder. No matter how much you try to tilt your hips to make him move, you fail.
“If you want to get fucked, baby, you gotta call me the right-”
“Daddy. Daddy, daddy. Happy now?”
He rolls his eyes, obviously not that happy with your tone.
You smirk.
“I see you need a lot of battiness fucked out of you.”
“Then why are you not fucking me, daddy?”
“Oh, goddamn it!” He’s not holding back now, moving like he used to. “Tell me, baby. Tell me you love me... that no one, fuck- no one is like me!”
His voice tinges with a hint of neediness... maybe even urge. His vulnerability takes you a little aback because it’s stronger than his mocking. He’s genuinely seeking for reassurance as he gazes at you with a mixture of desire, desperation and longing. He’s searching for validation in your eyes the way you were earlier, so you give it to him.
“You’re the only one for me, J-James. I love you forever. I never... I n-never stopped!” You can’t keep your head up a second longer as you drop it on your pillow, moaning.
“We’re getting married tomorrow.”
You half-snort, half-moan. “W-we can’t.”
“We can.” The sound of his balls slapping against your pussy almost covers the sound of his voice.
“We... we have to apply first.”
He spanks your ass again, and you scream, the sudden pain making you feel so good.
“So wet for me. They stood no chance. T-they don’t know how hard you want it.”
“Daddy, please... Please!” You’re a moaning mess. You just need a little harder. Just a little.
You’re not sure if you’re gonna have a voice after this. He’s pounding you so hard.
“My good, good girl.” He’s squeezing your hips, and the sound of your skin slapping is echoing. “God, gonna come for me? Jesus, wanna fill you up with my come too. Please, baby.”
You don’t know when or how he manages to do it, but he sneaks one of his hands under your body and pinches your nipple. You gasp, the wave of pleasure hitting you as he keeps fucking you. You feel your body weakening when he says your name over andl over again, but you don’t open your eyes for a while, letting him fuck you desperately while playing with your breast.
“Gonna- fuck, take my come, wife! Take me!”
He’s coming so much... surprisingly much even for him. You can feel him dripping down your thighs even when he slows down, then stops his movements before he falls on top of you as soon as he finishes.
“James...” You groan. “You’re heavy.”
He places a small kiss on your back, and you giggle.
“I love you.”
You melt, but he moves to the side before you can reach for his cheeks.
“I love you, too.” You kiss him. “So much that I let you drag me out of my best friend’s wedding reception.”
Bucky snorts, brushing his nose against your face. “Pretend all you want, I know you were bored as fuck.” You feel him slowly pulling out of you, and you whine. It’s a little uncomfortable. “Sorry, wifey.”
“I’m not your wife yet.”
“Yet, but you were and you will be again this week.” He takes your ring finger into his mouth.
“Bucky!”
“What? We need new rings.”
You try to pull out your finger. “No, we don’t. I have mine.”
“We need...”
“How about we use all that money for a vacation instead?”
“Neah, honeymoon is honeymoon.”
He finally lets your finger go. “We are not buying other wedding bands.”
“I am not debating a new engagement ring, though.”
You roll your eyes, but you know it’s the best deal you can get.
“Fine, a new engagement ring,” you agree while rolling ro his side and placing your head on his chest. “I don’t wanna move.”
“Don’t want to or can’t?”
You decide to surprise him by biting a spot right above his nipple. He groans while you simply laugh.
“You just can’t be subtle, can you?”
“If you’d wanted subtle you’d have gone for someone like Steve.”
“Eww, Bucky. I have your come dripping out of me and you bring up Steve?”
“You literally talked about Nat a sec ago.”
Then, as if a switch was flipped, your eyes widen. “Oh shit, my phone!”
“Where did you forget it?” Bucky asks casually, so used to gathering your things for you. You really missed that, too.
“Table. God... Do you think they know?”
“Know what?” He giggles, raising both of you until your backs touch the headboard. “That you dropped on your knees in the middle of the wedding to suck my cock? Or how I fucked you raw until you cried.” A sudden realization crosses his face. “You asked me to fuck you raw. Are you... still on the pills?”
You roll your eyes. “You think I’d let you fuck me like this for the first time we talked to each other properly since we divorced if there was a big chance to get pregnant?”
“I assume you are still on the pills, don’t be patronizing!” He kisses your nose, which he knows tickles you.
Ass...
“You are asking a dumb question instead of getting your ass downstairs to bring me my phone.”
“How is that dumb? I wanted to know if I should get you a pill or something.”
“So you don’t want babies with me!” You try not to laugh as you say it, biting your lip to keep your face serious.
“Why do you act as if I told you I don’t want a baby with you?” He chuckles when he sees you pouting. “We’re just getting back together and no way you’d want a baby now. But if I am wrong, let’s go for it. I can give you a baby, just get off the pills.”
“You don’t give me a baby, James. We have a baby together!”
He sighs, getting off the bed to get his clothes back on. “Obviously, but I am the one coming inside you. This is what I meant. I am all in. But we need some adapting time at least.”
You should stop this whole teasing-testing thing. You both have the same opinion after all. You might have a baby, and you know he’d be involved one hundred percent, but not now. Absolutely not.
“I know. Thanks for asking.”
“You’re such a tease.” He snorts, putting on his pants. “Before I go, do you want me to run you a bath or should I bring you a towel?”
“Do you plan on staying there?”
He turns his head to you instantly. “Yeah, sure. I am gonna eat some steak and brag about fucking my wife.”
“Alright, alright. Bring me a snack and we can take a bath together. Actually,” you think about it better. “I’m gonna clean up and wait for you.”
“You want me to fuck you again, don’t you?” He asks as he fixes his jacket.
“Why? Is this all you could give me?”
“Oh, fuck you!”
“Sure.” You spread your legs at the same time you grab your own breasts, making him groan. It’s so easy to get to him. And it’s hilarious.
“Jesus, you’re planning to kill me.”
“Not you acting as if it’s the first time this happened.”
“It is the first time in over a year, baby.”
You feel yourself softening again. “True. Now, please, please, please, don’t give them any details and bring me a snack.”
“What snack?”
“Anything, make me a plate, I don’t care.” He nods before reaching for the keys. “Oh, and Bucky? Tell your flavor of the month you don’t need her anymore.”
“I told you she is not-”
“And tell Nat I’ll make it up to her!” You interrupt him before he can finish his sentence. You don’t need him to defend a random girl’s honor.
“You’re so jealous.”
“Lock the door!”
You giggle satisfied when he closes the door and let yourself scream out of happiness while staring at the bite he left on your ring finger. Mrs. Barnes never got out of style.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#ex-husband!bucky barnes#divorced!bucky barnes#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fluf#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction#my fanfics#my stories
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Gym Buddy
Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You have a hard time keeping your eyes off of your gym crush.
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: none
A/N: Shoutout to my gym girlies out there, this one's for you 🫵🏻
Masterlist
———
“What are we hitting today?” your friend asks you as you both enter the gym. You look over to the receptionist and greet him with a smile. Adjusting the gym bag on your shoulder, you turn to your friend and shrug.
“I was thinking legs?” you suggest as the two of you head to the locker area. You usually go to the gym alone, but today was thankfully one of the rare occasions your schedule aligned with your friend’s so you took this opportunity to invite her to the gym with you— something you used to do back when you were still in college.
Your friend nods in response before beginning to stuff her locker with the stuff she didn’t need, you mirroring her actions. “Quads, hams, glutes, or all of the above?” she chuckles, pulling out her shaker bottle and scooping in some pre-workout.
“I did quads last time, are you cool with hams and glutes?” you ask to which she nods again. “But you can do quads if you want.”
This time she shakes her head, “Nah, you know me. I can never say no to a good glute workout.” She turns to her side and nudges your hip with hers, drawing a chuckle from you.
You walk towards the workout area, your eyes scanning the room and immediately stopping by the benches. You feel your heart hammer in your chest as you watch him do bench presses— his chest puffing out and leaving no room for imagination thanks to the compression shirt he was wearing.
Bucky Barnes started going to your gym a few months ago, and to say you were shocked to see him there the first time was an understatement. Not that you were complaining though, but you practically fell off the treadmill you were using when you saw him walk in for the first time donning an oversized shirt, a pair of sweatpants, and a baseball cap.
Safe to say that he is definitely your gym crush, and you would be lying when you say that you look forward to going to the gym just to see if he was there.
Your gaze stayed on him as your friend led you to the Smith machine. You glance at his face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and mouth letting out huffs of breath as he raises the 100kg dumbells above him.
Goddamn.
Your attention is brought back to your friend as she begins loading the bar with a few weights to start your first exercise. You snap out of your daze and help her by loading up the other side before finally beginning.
Taking turns, the two of you did a few sets of back squats, but your mind was definitely elsewhere. You desperately tried not to look at Bucky for too long, afraid that your friend might notice or worse, you get caught by Bucky staring at him.
“Okay, what’s up? I feel like you left your brain back at home,” your friend joked as you took a break before starting your next exercise. You roll your eyes, taking a swig from your water bottle, ignoring her question.
Your eyes subconsciously trail to Bucky, once again. This time, he was hunching over the bench as he stared at his phone, chest rising and falling at a steady pace. Your friend follows your gaze and hums in realization.
“Ah, I see,” she pipes up with a smirk on her face, “you got hots for the Avenger.”
You laugh softly, turning back to her and shrugging your shoulders. “Guilty as charged.”
“Why don’t you go for it?” she pesters, causing you to rapidly shake your head. “No way, I’m scared he might just glare at me or something.”
She scoffs before beginning to look for other plates to load the smith machine. She looks around your area only to find none that would suffice for your next exercise. So she scans the gym in search of heavier plates only to find a stack of 25’s that were conveniently placed beside Bucky.
She smirks before trudging her way towards him despite your attempts to pull her back. “Come back here!” you whisper sharply, but ultimately give up once she reaches him.
You see her gently tap Bucky on the shoulder, prompting the super soldier to turn and face her. You feel your whole body tense and your face starts to heat up. You watch as your friend points to the stack of plates beside Bucky and you see him nod and begin to stand up.
Oh god, is he coming over here? You thought to yourself. Sure enough, you see your friend and Bucky each pick up a plate and head towards your direction. Your eyes briefly meet his, causing you to turn away and act busy by scrolling through your phone.
You feel your heartbeat quicken as you see them grow closer through your peripheral until they are standing right in front of the machine. “Thank you so much!” your friend smiles as they both load the weights onto the bar. “I would’ve asked my friend to help me out, but the pre-workout hasn’t kicked in for her, you know?” she jokes, earning a soft chuckle from Bucky and a glare from you.
“It’s no problem,” Bucky says, gaze shifting between the two of you, a shy smile on his lips. “Have a nice workout,” he adds, before heading back over to the benches.
Your friend turns to you, a wicked smile on her lips. “See? He won’t bite,” she chides, causing you to roll your eyes before heading to the machine to start RDLs. “Unless you’re into that sort of stuff,” she continues, earning a smack on the shoulder from you.
“I’m never working out with you again.”
—
The next few days were not as uneventful as you’d hoped. You thought by going to the gym alone like you usually do would mean that you’d have more time to just subtly watch Bucky from across the room without worrying about any friends that would force you to interact with him.
But just a few days after your initial interaction with Bucky, you were put in a situation where you had the chance to look at him up close once again.
You were doing tricep pushdowns on the cable machine when you felt a hand tap you on the shoulder, causing you to jump. You turn around to meet the pair of blue eyes you so desperately gazed at all the time.
You were frozen in your spot as you took in how attractive he looked in his compression shirt, arms bulging by the sleeves. You were snapped out of your daze when you realized he was talking to you. “I’m sorry, what?” you asked sheepishly, removing one of your earphones.
Bucky smiled shyly in return. “Are you using the other cable?” he asked, pointing at the machine next to you. You shook your head, heat rushing to your face upon the thought of him working out beside you. “No, go ahead.”
He smiled again before positioning himself beside you and starting his workout. You tried your best not to get distracted by the godly sight next to you, but you didn’t muster enough courage to talk to him after that.
The next time you talk was the week after that. You were doing a particularly heavy set of dumbbell shoulder presses (while keeping note of Bucky somewhere behind you doing bicep curls). It was already your third set, and you were aiming to push out 12 reps until you started to feel your weaker arm give out.
You braced your core harder as you pushed yourself to get the last rep in until you saw Bucky drop the dumbbells he was holding to rush behind you. “I got you,” he mumbled, lightly placing his hands just below your triceps to give you stability.
You tried to ignore your heart that was hammering in your chest as you were finally able to fully lift the dumbbells over your head. You moved to lower them to put them down, but Bucky suddenly wrapped his hands on your wrists. “All you, give me one more.”
Jesus Christ.
You pushed yourself one more time, ignoring the pain in your shoulders as you gave it your all. Once you finally put the dumbbells down, you turned to him. “Thanks,” you smiled, which Bucky returned.
“No problem,” he replied, but before you could say anything else, he was already walking back to his spot to continue his set. You were extra energized to workout that day.
Which brings you to a week after that. You were just stepping out of your car when you spot Bucky getting off his bike. You subtly watch as he took his helmet off, and revel in the way he tied his hair into a small bun by the nape of his neck.
God, you were down bad.
You were too busy trying not to drool and fail to notice that he was actually staring back at you. It wasn’t until he gave you a shy nod when you snap back to reality and return the gesture but throwing him a sheepish wave.
“What are you training today?” he calls out as he watches you take your gym bag from the trunk of your car and slung it on your shoulder. “Oh, I’m doing pull today. What about you?” you ask, silently hoping he was planning to do the same.
“Mind if I join you?” he asks which practically made your heart do backflips. Trying to hide your giddiness, you give him a short nod as you and him begin to make your way inside the gym.
You enter and greet a few familiar faces as Bucky follows suit before stopping in front of the lat pulldown machine. “Are you okay with starting with this?” you ask.
“What, no warm up?” Bucky asks in return, prompting your cheeks to heat up. “I don’t warm up,” you start, “And before you lecture me, I know it’s bad… I’m just too lazy to do it.”
He chuckles softly at this as he begins to take off the sweatshirt he was wearing to reveal that he was wearing a muscle tee underneath, leaving almost no room for imagination. “S’okay. I’m too lazy to warm up sometimes too.”
You laugh as you take a seat in front of the machine, pick a favorable weight, and begin your set. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, the thought of Bucky Barnes standing just beside you to watch you do your set was both nerve wracking and motivating at the same time. Sure, you wanted to impress him with the amount of reps you could push out, but the way he was staring at you was also making your knees grow weak.
Thankfully, you finish your first set with minimal struggle before standing up and gesturing for him to go next. “That seemed a little too easy for you,” Bucky began, “I know you can lift heavier than that, doll.”
You try to ignore the way your stomach flipped upon hearing the pet name and reply with a playful scoff instead. You take a swig from your bottle as he starts his set. While lifting the whole stack, you admire the way his back muscles expand and contract without focusing too much on the soft grunts that were leaving his mouth.
Did it suddenly get too hot in here?
After a few more workouts and taking turns checking each other out, you both decide to end the day with a set of hammer curls. You watch in awe as he begins to work with a pair of 80kg dumbbells, making your weight look puny.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” you huffed as you continue your set. You see him slightly turn his head towards you in acknowledgment. “Given that you literally have a serum that makes you… you know, strong enough to lift a truck—“ he laughs at that, “why do you still work out?”
He ends his set and places his dumbbells back on the rack. “Well it sort of feels like therapy for me. When I go to the gym, it’s like— are you done with these?” he stops, pointing at the dumbbells you placed down while he was talking. You nod and before you could protest, he picks up the pair with one hand and places them back on the rack for you. “Anyway, when I go to the gym, I can forget about everything, you know? It feels nice to leave the rest of the world behind and pretend like everything is normal in my life,” he finishes.
Bucky lifts his metal arm in front of him. “This doesn’t really help with that though,” he adds, letting out a sad laugh. Your heart clenches at his sentiment, but before you know it, you blurt out, “Do you wanna get coffee after this?”
You widen your eyes at your sudden forwardness. A few weeks ago, you could barely approach him to ask help in re-racking weights, but you also never really imagined you would one day do pull with him, too. So this was sort of like a seize the day kind of thing.
Bucky, too, was caught off guard with your invitation. He never really talked to anyone when he went to the gym, preferring to just keep to himself, but there was something about you that pulled him closer. Maybe it was how friendly you were with everyone in the gym or how he saw you continuously push yourself to your limit in every exercise you do, but he was always intrigued by you.
His therapist told him to step out of his comfort zone more, so with a smile, he replies, “Only if you let me be your gym buddy from now on.”
Your smile reaches your ears as you offer him your hand, which he gladly took, “Deal.”
———
A/N: This really gives off crack energy, but hope you liked it either way ◡̈
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#the winter soldier#the winter soldier x reader#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#marvel#the avengers#marvel headcannon
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The Pit
COD masterlist
Part 1/2
Ghost/Soap/female reader
6.3k words - AO3
Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI, dub con, kidnapping, manipulative hurt/comfort, whump, the guys shave you, humiliation, forced orgasm, predator/prey, medical inaccuracies. Clothed males/naked female. The Pit by Silversun Pickups. Horror-ish. Misery inspired.
Winter in the mountains can be cruel.
This is something you’ve always known, even as a child. You were raised with it. Chose to return to it after school, decided to make a go of it, of a life here, as an adult. You knew what you were getting yourself into, long cold winters that felt both bleak and promising, unblemished blankets of snow possessing the ability to be stunning, while also lethal. Winters were dangerous, silent killers that left corpses in their wake and no amount of lupine or paintbrushes, glacier fed lakes or springtime moose calves could make up for the hell that winter wrought. Winter brings most living things to the knife’s edge of survival, forcing most to bow beneath the weight of its fury, backs breaking with the burden of just existing in an environment that truly acts, and feels, inhospitable.
Although, there are those who do more than survive the cold, violent stretch of winter.
There are predators who thrive.
“You closin’?” Your coworker, the new one, asks from where she’s settled across the dark wood bar, two amber Budweiser bottles empty in front her idle hands, eyes wandering to guys posted up by the loneliest pool table in fifty square miles.
“I am.” She casts the only window in the entire place a surreptitious glance, fingers peeling away at a label. It’s snowing, has been for hours, flakes fat and wet, fluffy enough that the density of the snow on the ground is light, but dangerous, as it hides the real risk underneath; packed snow sitting with a slick sheen of ice on top.
“You still trying to make it over Fall River pass tonight?” You nod.
“Yeah. Supposed to see my brother and his new place this weekend.”
“Fall River? Is that even open right now?” Andy, a regular who lives a few streets over from you, chimes in, twisting an empty rocks glass in his fist. You pull the bottle of Jameson from the rail and tip it vertical, honey brown liquid sloshing like a wave until his glass is halfway full, and he gives you a flirty kind of smile, the same one he’s been giving you for a year now. Yeeesh.
“It is. I could go around, but it just takes too long. And it’s Friday. I’m not trying to be stuck on the highway with weekend traffic.” You complain, and they both commiserate your opinion. The traffic is brutal, especially in the winter. Driving in hazardous conditions is considered to be a talent more than an innate ability here, and people often overestimate their aptitude for it, causing crashes and delays that get the highway shut down for hours, or even days, at times. You shrug. “I’ve had my snow tires on for weeks. Might as well get some use out of them.” Andy snorts.
“Like you haven’t been gettin’ good use out of them? First real snow was before Halloween this year.” You nod. He’s not wrong. You did get dumped on two weeks before the end of October, twenty-three inches piling up within two days, before half the area was even ready for it. You throw him a polite smile, one that you hope reads like ‘okay thanks for the concern, we’re done now’ and he sighs. “Well, drive safe.”
Fall River pass, it turns out, is not open. It’s closed by the time you split off from the interstate and start the windy, switch-backed trek in your jeep, flashing orange and yellow lights dotting the top of a barricade just barely visible through the speckled snow flying by in your headlights.
Fuck. You could have sworn the DOT website said it was open. You take a deep breath, quelling the anxiety that roils your stomach. Okay. Not the end of the world. There’s another road. A less maintained option, but… you’ll be fine. You’ve driven in worse.
The other road, a sharp, narrow, desolate path that cuts through a large swath of unmanaged forest just outside the national park, is easy at first. You’ve been driving the same jeep for years, a 2007 two door Wrangler, and you know how it handles like the back of your hand. With snow tires, it could pretty much cut through anything, even unplowed, fire watch roads like this one.
Which is why, after the first few miles, your nerves fully settle, and you allow yourself to relax a little bit behind the wheel, easing the jeep across the dips and slicks in the road as you cautiously build speed, snow falling fast through night, growing thicker the higher you travel into wilderness territory, and the farther you left modern civilization behind.
An hour creeps by, and then two. Long enough that you’ve now realized you’re the only one using this road, fresh snow blanketing the woods around you, topography and vegetation starting to change as you encroach on what you assume must be eleven thousand feet. You’ve seen this road on google maps once, or twice maybe, having noted it for future travel just in case of a situation like this. It runs perpendicular to Fall River, and eventually meets another, one that must be similar, on the other side of the range. The secondary road is one that takes you along the ridge, and then down, you’re pretty sure, although you can’t be one hundred percent certain, because you lost cell reception before you even turned off from Fall River.
Still, won’t hurt to check and see if you have this area downloaded.
You pull your phone from the center console, thumbing at the screen, allowing your eyes to linger too long without looking back up through the windshield. No one else is out here. It’s not like you need to worry about oncoming traffic. The little SOS insignia blinks at the top corner, and you tap on the map icon, hoping it will bring up your geo location so you can glance at the satellite image of the area.
You’re so fixated watching the little circle of death try to load, that by the time you look up and see the tree laying across the road, it’s far too late. You do the first thing you were always taught not to do in winter conditions, and slam on the brake, shoving the pedal to floor, heart rate sky rocketing as you panic and lose total control of the jeep. You spin, shoulders and chest jamming against the seatbelt, headlights flashing off into the woods, illuminating an endlessly dark web of trees, bark and branch scratching across the paint as you careen off the road, tipping too precariously onto two wheels and then rolling.
Time, your life, stands completely still for a moment. You see every individual fiber of the pine needles, every uniquely designed snowflake, every single droplet of blood that floats away from your face and through midair as you crash through the forest, your grasp on consciousness slipping farther and farther away, the jeep finally coming to a stop on its side, your head cracked against the driver’s window, stars and streaks spawning out across your vision, headlights finally blinking out completely, leaving you alone in the dark. Your head spins like you’re still rolling, and the only sound in the dead silent snow is your harsh breathing, frantic terror bubbling up through your throat as pain surges through your body.
It's freezing, but you feel surprisingly warm.
You’re going to die out here. No one knows you took this road, you don’t have service, by the time they find you, it’ll be too late. You’ll be a bled out, frozen corpse, long gone and-
You lose your train of thought quickly. Everything starts to fracture, fissures forming in your consciousness, part of you already losing the battle to the inevitable, darkness pulling over your eyes like a knit hat, lungs heaving just a little harder with each breath.
You could just close your eyes. Just for a moment.
Light sweeps across the ground, flashing across your face. You think, if you were truly with it, in your right mind, you’d think it was too bright. You’d say it was blinding.
But you can’t formulate anything of the sort, mind too busy slipping away, falling into an inky black depth, just barely on the verge when you feel a gloved hand on your skin, the lilt of an accent on the wind.
Sleep.
You’re drifting. Falling through a stardusted, molasses filled haze, your mind ebbs and flows with consciousness; soft and warm feelings contrasted with sharp pain that bites through your body as if it’s slowly trying to eat you, chipping away piece by piece.
There are words, voices. There are hands too, fingers walking across your skin, limbs being moved, arranged, always with pain that’s followed by a hushed whisper of apology, a confusing sentiment in the dark. Your eyes won’t open. Your mouth won’t work. Your head is stuffed with cotton, wispy strands of connections that can’t quite get there, scrounging along the walls of your skull, trying to meet in the middle. You’re drowning, sinking to the bottom of a macabre pool, the one that’s infected your synapses and kept you just inside the shelter of delirium.
You try to call for help, but you can’t.
You try to swim to the surface, but the grisly black of your mind is never ending.
You’re dying, the tiny sliver of rational thought assures. Or you’re already dead.
Despair swells, and if you could feel your face, you’d think you were crying, lost to the sweeping desolation of your pain. It steals your breathe. Your sense. Everything becomes secondary to the obliterating agony that you feel.
Something touches your cheek. Your eyes fight to open, straining against the heaviness that weighs on them, just barely blinking wide enough to let some light in, your vision fuzzily trying to focus.
Wood beams come into view. A ceiling? Where-
You try to turn your head but an electric shock rattles through your brain, forcing you to slam your eyes shut again, world spinning on an uneven axis as something on the edge of your sight shifts. A monster. A man?
Something is said, whispered, and then everything fades away, your mind and body slipping beneath the waves of darkness.
The next time you surface, you manage to cling to consciousness long enough to take stock of your surroundings, realizing you’re tucked into a soft, warm bed almost immediately, something hot near your feet, pillows fluffed beneath you. A hand stitched quilt is spread across the top of copious other blankets and sheets, and your fingertips scratch against the fabric. Flannel.
You’re also awake long enough to truly experience the pain you’re in.
One thousand tiny knives rattle around in your skull, slicing into the soft matter of your brain, tearing you apart piece by piece, everything in you unmoored and off balance. Searing pain radiates up your leg, through your arm and wrist to your head and neck, and when your instinct urges you to try to move, your body screams in protest, the pain so intense that you cry out.
That’s when you see him.
A man steps towards you from the edge of your peripheral, and you freeze in terror.
“Shhh. We’re not goin’ hurt ye. Ye had a terrible accident. Pure luck we found ye when we did, dove. Ye would’ve died out there.” He coos in an accent, inching closer, and you manage to get a better look at him, recognition failing immediately. An accident? An accident… memories come flooding back, broken clips of the jeep spinning, rolling, the woods, the fear. Who is he? Where are you? Brilliant blue eyes look down at you with concern, handsome face tweaked into worry, furrow in his brow partially covered by the long strands of an overgrown mohawk. He’s pretty. “Can ye follow my finger?” He presents one in front of your nose, but it splits into two, and then three, just the attempt to focus enough to make your head throb, and a whimper escapes from your throat. “I know, I know.” There’s a ceramic mug in his hand, and he carefully lifts it to your lips, encouraging you as he tips it back, warm, sweet liquid washing down your throat. You can’t even move your arms to push him away, and when he seems to be satisfied, his thumb wipes the corner of your mouth. “Good love. Well done.” You feel woozy all of the sudden, maybe even a little nauseous, and you think you could be hallucinating when another man appears at the foot of the bed, handsome, but in a rugged way, watching you with honeyed brown eyes, the broadest, biggest thing you’ve ever seen.
“Those bones need setting.” He says, and the pretty one grimaces, fingertips trailing along your cheek.
“Maybe tomorrow. I’m still worried about the concussion.” His thumb cards across your brow.
“It’s been three days, Johnny. Can’t put it off too much longer.” Three days? Your brain latches onto the time. Three days of what? Since when? You’re starting to fade, trying to focus on what they’re saying but losing the battle horrendously when the blankets shift, warmth tucking down around your waist and shoulders, unable to react or even speak when they both press a kiss to your forehead, affectionate and longing touch that startles you until you’re losing the battle to sleep.
It's snowing.
You don’t have to see to know. There’s something about how it hangs in the air, how the world sounds during a snowfall that blankets everything: houses, trees, mountains… your mind.
You love the snow. Even as a child, winter was your favorite. Winter brought you a sense of calm, of peace. It’s what brought you back here, kept you here, even amidst the perils. The feeling of a forest, lying still beneath the soft spun expanse of white, the crisp smell of the air the morning of a big snow, the eternal quiet that exists in the night when everything is dampened by the weight of a million, billion, uniquely crystalized webs of frozen water.
This snow feels different. It doesn’t feel like a velvety white, candy-coated dream world; but a nightmare… one filled with pain, anxiety. Where are you? What’s happened?
And why do you hurt so fucking bad?
“You’re awake.” A deep voice says from your side, and you flinch on instinct, immediately wishing you hadn’t as lightning sharp pain zings through you, your voice breaking with a cry. “Easy.” He cautions, and your head stops swimming long enough for you to realize it’s the brown eyed man, the bigger one. He’s sitting in a chair that looks far too small for his width, watching you with an intensity that makes you feel exposed.
“Where… am I?” You manage to choke out through stiff lips, your head spinning and the world tilting at the same time. It sours your stomach, more than you thought possible, and you try to swallow the burn of bile that’s racing up your throat.
“Are you going to be sick?” He strokes your face, the touch nearly sweet, but confusing, and you hold your tongue, unsure. He sighs, expression shifting into disapproval, and then a frown. “Tell me.”
“N-no, I don’t-“ You can’t even finish your denial before your stomach is heaving and he’s springing into action, shifting you onto your side where a clean bucket sits right next to the bed. You wail in misery, pain shooting through your leg and arm, your ribs, bile and spit leaking from your mouth.
“It’s alright, that’s it.” A hand soothes up and down your back as you dry heave, sputtering on nothing, tears dripping to the wooden floorboards with a splash.
“Nnrgh-“
“I know, I know. Poor thing.” He coos, and it sounds… endearing, so sweet yet… frightening, like the poison of a predatory, a pretty display meant to draw you in before it snaps a set of jaws shut around your face.
Somewhere, nestled inside the last shards of your sanity, an alarm bell whistles, but the intensity of your pain quickly drowns it out, and you cry aloud.
“Hurts.” He rolls you back to your original position, arranging you like a doll. “It hurts.”
“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. We’re going to fix it.” A cloth dabs at your forehead and then down to clean your mouth, just as the man with the mohawk appears on the bed, one knee down, leaning over you, worry rife in his features.
“Poor baby. Were ye sick again?” Again? You blink up at him. What is going on? He presses a glass to your lips, urging you to drink, and then pulling it away after you’ve had a few sips with a gentle “not too much.”
“Who are you?” The water is cold, refreshing, but a ting acidic, and you wonder if it’s well water, maybe?
“I’m Johnny.” He’s setting up something beside you, organizing it, but you can’t turn your head to look, and can’t quite catch it from your peripheral. “An’ this is Simon. Or Si, but ye probably willnae be callin’ him that quite yet.” Quite yet? What? Did they find you? Did they rescue you? Why can’t you remember?
“What happened.” You try again, gritting your teeth.
“Ye had an accident, remember? We talked about it yesterday. Ye rolled off the road, ended up nearly down the mountain, in the thick of the trees. Ye’re lucky the one didnae impale ye.” Impale?
“And you found me?” You're starting to feel tired again, all the sudden, woozy and weird, exhaustion pulling at your limbs. Shouldn't you be in a hospital? Why haven't they taken you to a doctor?
“Aye, we did. Pulled ye out, brought ye home.” Home?
“You don’t have to worry.” Simon, the bigger one, tells you. “We’re going to take care of you.” Take care of who? Everything is foggy, clouded, and you try to shake your head in confusion.
“I don’t… why-“
“Storm is pretty bad. One of those, once in a lifetime types. Pass is closed.” You close your eyes. Of course. The pass is closed. You guess you’re lucky. They could have left you to die, and you could have never been found. You could have frozen to death. Bled out.
“Thank… thank you.” Johnny hums, and then you ripple in shock as he leans forward and brushes his lips against your mouth in a kiss. This… this is not normal? Are Scottish people just… more affectionate?
“Want ye to know, if we didnae have to do this, we woudnae.” What?
“Do what?” Simon casts you a mournful glance, rising from the chair. He’s got piece of leather in his hand, like a cut from a belt, and your eyes dart between them, fear freezing solid inside your pores. Do what?
“Bite down on this, precious.” Simon instructs, placing the swatch against your bottom lip, and you jerk away in protest, pain burning through your body.
“Do what?” You try to sound strong, demanding, but it comes out a little less than timid, and he gives you a sad smile.
“Your femur is broken.” A warm hand rests on your leg, over the covers, and you try to click the pieces together. “And I suspect your radius is, too. We need to set them.”
Oh. Oh no.
“N-no, no, you… you ca-can’t.” You stutter. They can’t. A doctor should be doing that, shouldn’t they? Johnny hovers over you, placing his palm on your belly, stroking upwards to the middle of your chest, the other holding firm across your collarbone. His touch is gentle, but strong, and his thumb rubs in a cautious motion against your skin, lightly grazing the underside of your breast. It feels weird, and wrong… intimate in a way that makes you shiver. “Please. Please, please… don’t-“
“It’s alright.” He shushes you, and the pressure increases against your body as Simon wedges a thick finger between your teeth, slipping the worn leather in your mouth, bracing around your wrist, his other hand holding your elbow. You gasp for air, adrenaline fueled by pain and fear coursing through you, and Johnny coos, telling you ye’ll be alright, that ye’re with them now, and they’ll take such good care of ye.
“Take a deep breath.” Simon urges, and you stare at him, wide eyed, pulse thundering in your ears.
“Ye’ll probably pass out, bonnie. We’ll get the second one done while ye’re down, and I already gave ye somethin’ for the pain.” He assures, like it’s supposed to relieve you, and your nostrils flare as something tightens against your arm. Simon’s grip.
This can’t be happening. This has to be a nightmare. How can this happen? No, nononono-
There’s a crack. A crunch. Burning, obliterating torture rockets up your arm, exploding inside you like a shot. You scream and bite down at the same time, raw misery trying to claw it’s way out of your throat. You think you’re crying, hallucinating from the pain, having a heart attack, fucking dying, all at once. It hurts, it hurts so bad, stop, please-
“We’re sorry, we’re sorry.” Simon soothes, thumb wiping your cheek, but you can hardly hear him, your brain starting to sever itself from reality, floating away as you slip inside the dark tomb of your mind, losing yourself to the fog as they both stare down at you, sickeningly saccharine concern layered overtop the faces of wolves, predators licking their maws in preparation for a meal.
You sleep and wake in a haze.
You sleep. Your dreams are torments, visions of being chased through the mountains by monsters, being pinned to the ground, teeth tearing into your throat with no preamble, or nightmares of drowning, being swallowed by the ocean, lungs sputtering with concrete laden sea water.
You wake. Your vision blurs, mind scrambled by pain, vaguely aware of being moved, carried to the bathroom, held upright over a toilet, gentle touch soothing up and down your back, heavy palm cupping curve of your skull when your head is tipped back and something is dribbled past your lips. You blink blearily with stone weighted lids, taking in the room bit by bit, the wrought iron bed frame, crackling flames sparking in a fireplace, mountain of pillows sagging with the imprint of your body. Your limbs are wrapped and unwrapped, immobilized, and shifted, and the pain is enough to make you gasp for air, tipping you over into the decaying depths of unconsciousness again and again.
You sleep. Restless, chilled. Ice spreads from the nerves in the tip of your nose to your brain, your fingers, and you try to burrow it deeper, seeking the comfort of the pillows, but finding warm skin and muscle instead. In your sleep, it’s lovely. It’s comforting. Even when you’re rolled to your side, something sticking under your tongue, you chase the heady thick heat that seems to roll off the limbs around you.
You wake. There are voices, deep and rumbling, bouncing through the room. Warm water dabbing down your neck, your belly, your legs. You’re too hot, uncomfortable and smothered until you hear a sharp pitched snarl accompanied by a yank, and then there’s a void of emptiness around you.
You sleep.
You wake. The pain starts to change, melting into something that’s consistent, throbbing, but a little less sharp, unless you move, and then it shrieks through your nerves like an electrical shock, vibrating your jaw shut.
You sleep.
You wake. They’re there. Simon is dabbing a cool washcloth across your forehead. You try to flex away on instinct, but firm hands stop you, holding you in place.
“Hey there, dove.” Johnny whispers, smiling. It’s a shy kind of smile, sweet, and the world spins. You grapple with reality, trying to remind yourself where you are, what happened. The fire snaps and pops behind Simon, who stands at his side, massive hand on his shoulder. “Made ye some breakfast. Think ye can eat somethin’?” Breakfast? A steaming bowl of oats sits cradled in his hand, spoon at the ready. Nausea roars, enflamed by the pain in your bones, and you shake your head. “Ye need to eat. Been givin’ ye soup for the past few days, but ye need more carbs.”
“I- I don’t understand.” You try to explain your confusion, hundreds of questions brewing on your tongue, trying to spill out.
“You’ve been in and out consciousness for the last week.” Simon explains, and your eyes widen.
“What?” Panic knots, twisting you up tight, heart fluttering in your chest.
“We had to sedate you. Needed to keep you still through the first part of the healing process.”
“You… you drugged me?” You stammer, and Simon smiles, but it’s not sweet like Johnny’s. It’s severe. It’s dangerous.
“Soft calluses form around fractures, after they’ve been set.” He sits down on the other side of the bed, across your hips from Johnny. “Your breaks aren’t in casts, so we needed to minimize your movement until the calluses could strengthen.”
“Ye willnae be able to walk on the leg, or lift anything with that arm, but we’ll help ye.” Johnny assures. “We’ll be here for ye, as ye get better.” The words don’t compute, and you look at both of their faces, sweeping back and forth, blue eyes to brown, brown to blue, until the only thing that you can think of blurts out of your mouth:
“Where’s my phone?” There’s a flash of discontent in Johnny’s features, but it’s quickly smoothed away, and you wonder if it even there in the first place.
“I imagine it’s somewhere near where your jeep rolled. We weren’t exactly concerned with finding it, considering we were trying to save your life.” Simon’s hands flex in the sheets, and then relax, serious look on his face, and guilt swamps you. Right. They saved your life. You could have died. And the pass is closed. Maybe this is all… as normal as it can be, given the situation. Calm down.
Still…
Didn’t Johnny kiss you?
The spoon clinks against the bowl, jolting you back to the moment, eyeing the scoop of oats as it drifts closer to your mouth, lips parting on instinct.
The first bite is difficult, an insipid, unsavory lump sliding down into your stomach, toothy grin stretching across Johnny’s face as you swallow. The second bite is easier. So is the third, and you manage a few more after that until you start to feel wooly, head fuzzy and stomach sick. “I can’t.” You bleat, and he nods sympathetically.
“Alright, ye did good.” Sleep tugs, insistent again, strong surge of fog pulling at your eyes, and you yawn.
“Tired?” Simon’s already moving, hovering, patiently adjusting your pillows and lazily urging you into them. “You should rest.” You’re too weak, too miserable to argue, so you let yourself fade to black, easily falling back into the webbed slush of sleep.
You drift in and out for days after that. A bright spot of consciousness here and there before it dissipates and you fall into oblivion, and you find yourself embracing it as often as possible, trying to escape into yourself, away from wooden beams and potential predators that flank you.
You’re content to let it stay that way, hiding away behind closed lids for as long as possible, until the morning you feel the washcloth.
“Sh-sh-shhh.” Johnny hums when you garble out a distressed question, tipping a glass to your mouth. Cold liquid rushes across your tongue, and you have no choice but to swallow, confusion webbing across your thoughts. Simon has the blankets pulled away, chilled air nipping and your skin, and you moan. It’s strange, like you’re exposed, half floating like you’re high, and half spiraling through your pain.
“It’s okay, we’ve got you.” They’re repositioning you, arms and legs like a little doll, and you frown. “Jus’ need to get you clean.” Clean? The washcloth coasts across your neck and down to your chest, warm water soaking a trail down your breasts. You’re naked, fully, a hot palm against your hip, skin on skin contact registering as you blink fuzzily, watching the way Johnny focuses on you, concentration shining in his stunning blue eyes.
Water sloshes. Squeezing and dripping, and then the warm, nearly hot cloth is being pressed against you, stroking over your nipples, washing the underside of your breasts. It feels nice, and you whine a little when it pulls away. Simon chuckles.
“Do ye like that?” Johnny coos, reapplying the cloth to your belly. “Does that feel good?” Does it? Is it supposed to? Your vision doubles then realigns, and you stare at the underside of Simon’s jaw, mesmerized by the scar on his chin, the width of his neck. He readjusts you, again, slowly moving your knees apart, spreading your legs, and heat climbs through your bones to your cheeks.
You’re naked. They’re fully clothed.
“We’re goin’ clean this up a bit.” Simon murmurs, a thick finger tracing along your slit, through the soft curls between your legs, and you balk. Clean what? How?
“My… my-“ you can’t even get the words out, too embarrassed, and he nods, sliver flash of a razor twinkling in his hand. The air in your chest sputters.
“Your hair.” Johnny works the washcloth back and forth, water dripping down your skin to the towel that’s been placed under your hips, you can only lay there in mortification when you feel yourself getting wet, tepid arousal roaring to life between your legs. “If you’re a good girl for us,” Simon continues, spraying a big glob of shaving cream into Johnny’s palm, “we’ll give you a treat afterwards. How’s that sound?”
“A treat?” You squeak, and then whimper, Johnny’s fingers creeping down your slit, rubbing the cream across your pubis and labia, heel brushing against your clit. You make a noise of a protest, but it falls on deaf ears.
“Ye’re alright.” He coos, bumping against the swollen bud again, and you try to stop the moan that builds in your chest with no success, slamming your eyes shut and trying to disappear into the pillows. “It’s natural, dove. Ye dinnae need to feel embarrassed.” He leans forward, slotting his mouth against yours, lips soft and fragrant in a pillowy sweet kiss that lasts too long, his eyes blissfully closed in front of your almost crossed ones.
“Please…” you whisper, but you’re not sure what you’re asking for, and Johnny coos at you, bending at the waist to get a better vantage point between your legs. You shake your head, eyes wide with disbelief, with fear, your mind trying to catch up, trying to rationalize what’s happening at the same time as your body is betraying you, slicking the cream that’s lathered between your thighs, clit pulsing with desperate need.
“I- I don’t want you to… shave me.” You whisper. You don’t want them to touch you… there, and the panic that’s pulsing between your ears continues to rise as your protests go unnoticed. Just saying it out loud makes you want to die of embarrassment, and Simon clucks.
“We have to take care of you, sweet girl.” Simon grips your thigh, fingers pressing into flesh, and the cool blade of the razor moves against the grain with a flick of his wrist, drawing back to a bucket for a rinse before a repeat, breath frozen in your chest as he slowly eliminates the curls of your pubic hair. “It will be easier to do that, to see what you need without all this.” He hums, the smile of a wolf coy on his face. “Stay nice and still for us.” They work in tandem, perfectly synchronized, and your unwanted arousal starts to overpower the pain that’s radiating from your broken bones. It’s been so, so long since you’ve been touched by anyone, and your body does not care that you didn’t want this, or agree to it, too eager to be satisfied, to be touched in anyway it can get, and it gets worse, more intense the longer it goes on, the precise movements of their hands, the slow and methodical approach to your cunt. “Almost done.” Simon tells you, and the side of his finger passes over your clit unintentionally, and you whine. “I know, I know. You’re bein’ so good. Such a good girl.” Your good hand is shaking, gripping the sheets, and when he finishes, Johnny wipes you down with a clean cloth, passing over your clit again and again, electric shocks sparking in your belly. You’re paralyzed, helpless, and yet… soaked. Desperate. The warring emotions tear at you, shame and fear and desire rendering you speechless.
“I think ye need some relief, dove.” Johnny hums, looking from your pussy to Simon, both of them tilting their heads to stare between your legs. “Poor thing is so swollen, Si.”
“Do you want to touch her, Johnny? Give her a reward?” Simon asks him, so sweetly, and Johnny shimmies down to be eye level with your pussy, tongue darting out to lick his lips.
Half of you screams no. Half of you shouts yes.
All you can do is watch, helplessly, as they settle themselves between your legs, Simon over Johnny’s shoulder, tempering his frenzied excitement with assured patience.
“Will ye show me how?” He’s eager, and you frown, confused.
“Johnny’s never made a girl come before,” Simon tells you gently. “You’ll be his first.” Oh my god. “Will you help him? Tell him what feels good?” Your brain melts. You don’t know what to say, mouth half open, staring at the both of them, and after a few seconds, Simon sighs like he’s exasperated with you, before ducking back down next to Johnny and murmuring softly to him, probing along your cunt, finger dipping into your hole, swirling in the wetness gathered there and then moving up to your slit. You gasp, eyes nearly rolling back in your head.
“She likes that.” Johnny groans, breath blowing over your exposed flesh, and Simon takes his hand, thumb over thumb, guiding him in small circles around your clit.
“Nice an’ slow at first, when you’re rubbin’ her clit. Feel how hard it is?” He instructs, pressing a kiss to the side of Johnny’s head, and he nods enthusiastically, looking up at Simon with wide, puppy dog eyes, sappy and saturated with love. It’s sweet, and affectionate, like they’re the only ones in the room, in the world… and you’re intruding on a private moment between these two men and your body. Like you’re a bystander. Or a doll. It’s confusing, your brain trying to sort everything that’s happening into neat little boxes that keep overflowing or falling apart, fracturing under the weight of your helplessness, the shock and fear that’s nearly made you dizzy. “See how her little hole is clenchin’ like that? It’s ‘cause she’s empty, needs to be filled up. When she comes, she’ll get real tight.” He explains, your body enflaming in mortified heat. They’re pushing you closer and closer to an orgasm, and Simon increases the speed as your hips jolt.
“Fuck.” You hiss.
“That’s it.” Simon coaches. “Are you close, sweet girl? Gonna come for us?” You shake your head, but even if you wanted to close your legs, you couldn’t. You’re trapped, lost in a sea of wild waves that break directly over your head, one after another until you’re drowning, gasping, muscles so tight they burn, pain in your arm and leg a secondary concern behind the pressure in your belly, the zap of your clit as they drag you too easily to the bottom, before sending you breaking through the surface.
You come with a distressed moan, hips jerking, and then a raspy plea for them to stop, telling them it’s too much, you’re too sensitive, to which Simon wraps his hand around Johnny’s wrist and pulls his hand away.
“We can’t overwhelm her just yet. Gotta wait until she’s healed up, hm?” He murmurs, reaching for the cloth. You blink at the ceiling, drifting, floating away, little boxes in your mind broken up into gnarled pieces that don’t make sense.
What just happened?
You stay silent, blank, as they settle you, cloth cleaning between your legs, blankets being fussed with around your body, pillows plumped. Simon curls some of your unruly hair behind your ear, swooping down until the breadth of his body blocks out all the light in the room, lips brushing over your ear. “What a good girl you are, dove. Did so well, letting Johnny give you an orgasm. So sweet for him.” He tucks you in a little tighter, and Johnny ducks around him, kissing you gently, like you’re made of glass, thrilled smile tugging at his cheeks, unfettered joy the last thing you see before your eyes slip shut.
The next time you wake, Johnny is in bed with you. It’s dark, a flickering orange glow casting shadow across the room, and you startle at the weight of his arm stretched across your chest, cradling you close, half curled around you like a cat. You turn, face to face, his mouth slightly agape, breath blowing over your cheek. You can’t get enough leverage on one leg to slide out from under him, and when you squirm, he only tightens his grip, pinning you to the bed. You’re overheated, and when you peek over his shoulder to get a look at the fire, you see Simon instead, sitting upright in a chair, fully awake, watching you. White hot fear shocks your system, forcing your eyes down in disbelief, surprise, his chair creaking in the night. Your breath stops in your chest, and then there’s a hand smoothing over your forehead, as he leans past you to brush his lips against Johnny’s, and then rough stubble presses against your cheek with a jagged whisper.
“Sweet dreams, little dove.”
#peaches writes#dub con#ghost x soap x reader#soap x ghost x reader#ghoap x reader#john soap mactavish#ghost x reader x soap#simon riley#simon riley x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#Ghoap#soap x reader
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Bad Fun
Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Jealous Joel takes you in the bar bathroom. (Inspired by the like five jealous Joel requests that have been sitting pretty in my inbox for weeks).
Warnings: smut, established relationship, (semi) public sex, slapping, degradation, hair pulling, pretty rough (consensual!) sex, possessive Joel <3, heavy on the dirty talk and daddy kink no use of y/n
w/c: 3.4k
A/N: Answered a request? How very unlike me. Idk why but you guys were thirsty for jealous Joel but I am not complaining! Also two fics in a week? who am I turning into?
my masterlist
You can feel his eyes on you, even with your back turned to him. And you can see the way the men look over your shoulder, casting anxious glances at the man who’s now giving them an icy glare.
“Well, if you ask me, I’d say you’re far too young and pretty to be hanging around with a man like that” one of them says as he casually places a hand on your midback.
You raise an eyebrow at him, but you don’t say anything about his hand on you.
“A man like what?” you ask innocently.
Almost everyone in Jackson knew about you and Joel. The two of you were practically glued at the hip, if there was one of you, then the other wasn’t far away. Joel usually had a protective arm draped your shoulders, keeping you safely tucked away under his arm. Or a hand tucked in the back pocket of your jeans as you walk the streets of Jackson together, giggling at some inside joke like you were the only two people in the world.
And most men knew that you were off limits. Most of them were smart enough not to test Joel like that, fully aware of the repercussions that come with going after his girl. But these younger men, the one’s around your age, were still ballsy enough to push the boundaries.
The man laughs, his hand slowly sliding further down your back.
“He’s just a bit old for you, isn’t he? He’s like 50, isn’t he?”
You bite your lip to hold back a laugh. You glance over your shoulder at Joel where he’s seated at a table across the room with Tommy and a few other guys from patrol. He has his front turned to you as he leans back in chair, one hand wrapped around his glass of whiskey and the other resting casually on his crotch. His eyes are dark as he watches you carefully and a small but dangerous smirk is tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“More years of experience” you quip, turning back around and taking a sip from the cocktail that one of them bought for you.
The boys laugh, and the hand on your back slides down even lower until he’s inches away from your ass. You allow it, fully aware that Joel is still watching you.
“Maybe” he says, stepping closer towards you and closing the space “But I bet I could last longer than him.”
You supress another laugh as images of Joel fucking you into the mattress for hours flashing through your head. If only they knew.
“Buy me another drink and maybe I’ll want to find out if you’re right” you say, looking at him through your lashes trying to feign innocence.
The man smirks, entire too confident in his abilities to pull someone else’s girlfriend, much less Joel Miller’s girlfriend. You giggle as he rushes to turn around and find the bartender, flagging him down and pointing to your empty glass.
These men are cute enough, boyish faces with a youthful sparkle in their eyes. Still, they’re obviously not you’re type and you’re far from being interested in slightest.
It’s not the flirting that fun, it’s what comes after.
Joel watches you for a few more minutes, his skin growing hot with jealousy as he watches the man inch his hand further and further down your back. But he doesn’t intervene. If he didn’t know any better, those men would be on the floor before they even got the chance to touch you.
But he’s not that naïve. He’s played this game with you before and he knows exactly what you want.
He downs the rest of his whiskey and sets the glass on the table before standing up and heading towards the bathroom. He crosses your line of sight on the way but doesn’t make any effort to acknowledge you.
He knows you’re watching.
“I’ll be back, you boys have fun without me” you say quickly before finishing your drink and setting the empty glass on the bar. You don’t give them a chance to respond before you’re slipping away and heading towards the bathroom.
Your entire body is vibrating with excitement as you practically run after Joel, heady desperation mixing with the alcohol in your veins. There’s only one bathroom and you only have to knock once before Joel swings the door open and yanks you inside. You giggle with excitement as he pushes you up against the door and clicks the lock in place.
With one hand on your hip, he shoves a knee between your legs so that his thick thigh presses firmly against your core.
“Such a fuckin’ slut” Joel growls. He brings his other hand up to grip your jaw, his fingertips digging in your cheeks and squeezing so hard that your mouth pops open.
“Can’t leave you alone for two goddamn seconds without you whorin’ yourself out.”
The whiskey is heavy on his breath and his eyes are dark, his pupils blown from the liquor and lust making you clench around nothing, already hopelessly turned on. His grip on your both your hip and jaw are firm and unforgiving, serving as an indicator for what’s about to go down. You know that you probably shouldn’t push him more than you already have, but you can’t resist.
“They were saying they could fuck me better.”
Joel’s jaw tightens and his scowl deepens as he narrows his eyes at you. He’s still for a beat, and you bat your eyelashes at him innocently. Then within an instant, he manhandles you over to the sink, pinning your front against the fake marble countertop with his hips. You giggle again when you feel the bulge in his jeans pressing firmly against your ass as he holds you tight against him.
He snakes an arm up the front of your body, his forearm resting heavy and warm between your breasts as he grips your jaw once again, forcing you to look straight ahead. Your gaze meets his in the mirror and a hot wave of arousal washes over you as he slips his other hand between your legs.
“Jesus fuck” he groans quietly when he feels how wet you are.
“I know what your little plan is, sweetheart” Joel murmurs as his fingers feather over your swollen, dripping seam. “Actin’ like a fuckin’ slut to get me to bend you over and make you stupid on my cock, right angel?”
You just grin smugly and back up against him. His eyes get even darker, and you can see the muscles in his jaw flexing subtly under his skin.
You nod weakly and whine at his words, a jolt of electricity shooting down your spine as try to grind down on his fingers, desperately chasing after any sort of friction. But Joel’s not having it. He moves his hand away from your jaw briefly so he can deliver a sharp smack to your cheek. It’s not hard enough to truly hurt, but it’s definitely enough to make your eyes snap open and your skin tingle for a few seconds.
“Use your words” Joel hisses, his fingers curling around your jaw once again.
“Yes, Joel.”
Another quick slap.
“And mind your fuckin’ manners.”
You whine again before correcting yourself.
“Yes, daddy”
Joel groans and rolls his hips against your ass in approval. You whimper when his hand leaves your core, but you’re quickly rewarded when he slides his two fingers, damp with your slip past your lips. You suck on them happily, satisfied with something finally in your mouth. You languidly roll your tongue around them, licking off arousal and coating them liberally with your saliva. Joel watches you through the mirror and leans in until his mouth is inches away from your ear.
“Look at that” he whispers, his warm breath fanning over your ear and jaw. “My dirty little girl, so desperate for her daddy.”
Hi cock twitches against you as he watches your eyes roll back as drool starts to leak out of the corner of your mouth, a small drop sliding down your chin. He curses under his breath and slowly removes his fingers from your mouth. You whine at the loss, but the sound quickly melts into a loud, drawn-out moan when he shoves them inside of you. He doesn’t give you any time to adjust, just starts pumping his two fingers in and out of you at a dizzying pace. He watches you in the mirror and forces you to watch too, his grip tightening on your face.
“So fuckin’ wet for me already, angel” Joel groans. “Does actin’ like a goddamn whore turn you on, baby? S’that why your little pussy is already dripping all over my fingers?
“Daddy please” you pant, already embarrassingly close to release.
He just chuckles breathlessly as you squeeze around his fingers. Another loud moan tumbles past your lips when he adds a third finger. It burns in the best way, your sensitive walls stretching out around his thick fingers.
But he suddenly stills his fingers inside of you and the pleasure starts to quickly fade. You whimper and wiggle your hips, already missing the sensation.
“Be a good slut and fuck yourself on daddy’s fingers.”
You make a garbled sound in your throat and immediately start to grind your hips back. You try to position your body to get his fingers deep like they were before, but it’s no use. Only he knows how to get that perfect angle. With a frustrated huff and no other options, you double down on your efforts. You curl your fingers over the beveled edge of the fake marble countertop and push your hips back.
The lewd squelching sounds of his fingers working your tight cunt open bounce off the walls of the small bathroom and into your ears, sending a wave of heat down your body. He groans next to your ear when you start squeezing his fingers so hard that you’re almost forcing them out.
“Greedy fuckin’ slut” Joel whispers. “You gonna cum like this?”
He’s well aware that it’s not enough. But he loves to watch you try.
“Can’t, Joel” you whine. You yelp when Joel pulls his fingers from you and delivers a sudden smack to your ass.
“What’s my fuckin’ name?” Joel hisses, squeezing your jaw even tighter. You wouldn’t be surprised if you found bruises in the shape of his fingertips in the morning.
“Daddy” you whine, high pitched and needy.
He grunts approvingly then suddenly removes his fingers. You whimper quietly at the loss and watch through the mirror moves to unbuckle his belt. He shoves his jeans down just enough to free his cock then bunches the hem of your dress around your waist.
“Tell me something, baby” Joel sighs, using both hands to spread your cheeks and exposing your burning heat to the cool room of the air. “Do you think they could fuck you better than I can?”
“No, daddy” you reply without missing a beat.
Joel hums but doesn’t say anything as he takes a half step forward, pressing his cock against your dripping seam. You moan softly at the sensation, the smooth, warm skin of his tip rubbing against your puffy clit. He starts to rock his hips, slowly dragging his cock back and forth through your folds, lubing himself up with your slick.
“Are you this fuckin’ wet for them?” he rasps, his fingertips digging into your hips.
“No, daddy” you gasp.
“Then who’s this pussy so needy for?” Joel taunts, the fat tip of his cock notching at your entrance.
You clench around nothing and ty to push your hips back against him, but the sharp spank he lands on your ass stops you.
“You daddy! Please daddy, only for you.”
“That’s right, angel” Joel praises, bringing both hands to your hips. “You’re fuckin mine.”
With that, he pushes inside and buries himself to your hilt in one fluid movement. Your knees buckle and your head falls forward, hanging between your shoulders, but the arm he wraps around your waist keeps you upright. He holds you tight in place and snaps his hips against your ass, knocking all the air out of your lungs and getting impossibly deep with each thrust. You try to bite back the loud moans but it’s a lost cause when he finds the angle where his tip kisses your cervix with every stroke.
He starts pounding into you faster and removes his arm from your waist, his hand now trailing up your back instead. He fists his hand in your hair and pulls your head up and holds you there, forcing you to look ahead in the mirror.
“You keep your eyes on me. Since you seem to have trouble rememberin’ who fuckin’ owns you”
Your eyelids flutter, but you don’t dare close them. You stare at him through the mirror, eyebrows drawn together with your mouth hanging open, strained whines and moans slipping past your lips as he continues with his brutal pace. And he just smiles down at your almost cruelly.
Joel laughs breathlessly from behind you when you let out a loud, broken moan and your cheeks heat up at the sound, knowing that there are people less than five feet away on the other side of the wall. It’s mortifying for you, but it only fuels Joel’s fire.
“M’not gonna cover your mouth, sweetheart” Joel grunts, tightening his grasp in your hair even more. “Want you to let everyone in this bar know who’s fuckin’ you this good”
Your eyes roll into the back of your head and the sounds start to freely pour out of you. The way he’s pounding relentlessly right into your g-spot causes the heat swirling in your belly to start burning hotter. Your knees are starting to buckle and your fingers scramble on top of the countertop, searching for purchase on the smooth surface as you try to keep yourself upright.
Joel isn’t any help. He just watches you carefully in the mirror as he slams into you so harshly that you’ll probably have light purple bruises on your hips from where you keep hitting the edge of the counter. And the way his cock starts pulsating inside of you when you start clenching around him drives you both crazy.
Your whole body feels on fire now with tingles spreading from your lower abdomen and up your spine to the rest of your body. You know he won’t let you finish. You’ve gotten yourself in this exact situation more than enough times to know that. And you also know how annoyingly in tune he is with your body he is, noticing every single miniscule cue you display.
So, you try to hide it. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, trying to suppress your moans and you try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down, but it’s no use when you start to shake. Joel groans then lets out a dark chuckle from behind as you tremble and reflexively clamp down around him, letting you know that yeah, of course he fucking noticed.
He leans forward while simultaneously pulling your back by your hair until his lips are brushing the shell of your ear and whispers “Bad girls don’t get to cum”
He then pulls out and takes a step back fisting his cock.
“Get on your knees” Joel commands before you even have the chance to whine at the sudden loss.
You automatically sink to your knees, leaning heavily into the sense of submission that starts to cloud your brain. He looks down at you and smirks at the captivated look on your face as you watch him steadily stroke his cock. The thing is, you can pick up on his cues too, no matter how much he tries to hide behind the façade of his dominance. You can see it in the way his heaving chest starts to flush, the dark blush spreading up his neck and to his cheeks. His breaths get quicker, fand he has a harder time keeping the whines out of his moans.
You look up at him from your spot on the floor with wet, glassy eyes and he curses under his breath at the sight.
“Open your mouth, baby.”
You obey and part your wet lips.
“Good girl” he groans, taking a step forward until he’s inches away from your face. “Daddy’s gonna cum in your mouth, babygirl. D’ya want that?”
You nod vigorously and give him a small whimper for good measure.
“Please, daddy” you whisper, sticking your tongue out.
Joel curses again and his hand on his cock starts to move faster while his free hand moves to the back of your head. Your scalp is already sore from the grasp he had on it earlier so you’re relieved when he doesn’t pull, just gently tangles his fingers in your hair to hold your head in place.
“Knew you would. You’re just a slut for daddy’s cum, aren’t you?” he teases breathlessly.
“Please daddy!” you whine again, not at all ashamed of the desperation in your voice.
Joel grunts and his wrist faulters again as he stares at your awaiting tongue. You wait as patiently as you can, subtly trying to squeeze your thighs together searching for any bit of friction you can get.
“Fuck angel you look so good like this” he groans, his hips involuntary rolling up to meet his fist. “On your knees waiting for daddy to cum like a good fuckin’ slut.”
You glow under his praise and start to say something, but Joel’s breathing starts getting heavier and his grunts and moans are getting louder and before you can say anything, he’s thrusting his hip forward to slide his tip past your lips.
You instantly wrap your lips around him and he doesn’t push in any further, just keeps the tip in your warm, awaiting mouth, his cock pulsing as he unloads rope after rope of hot cum. You try your best to keep eye contact with him, but the feeling of his hot, salty release on your tongue has your eyelids fluttering as your head starts to go dizzy and floaty.
You also try your best to keep his cum on your tongue, knowing that there was a reason that he didn’t push in all the way and fuck your throat. But it’s so much, it’s always so fucking much that you can’t stop some of it from sliding down your throat.
“That’s my good girl, My go- ah fuck baby” Joel cuts himself off with a careless moan. You can feel your slick starting to leak out of you and down your thighs at the sound.
“My good fuckin’ girl. All fuckin’ mine.”
He hisses when you dip your tongue into his oversensitive slit and reluctantly pulls out of your mouth. You press your lips together, keeping your mouth closed and look up at him expectantly. He smiles down at you, his scowl gone and replaced by a lopsided, sated smile.
Then he brings a thumb up to your bottom lip and tugs down softly and whispers “Show me.”
You comply, opening your mouth and proudly showing him the small puddle of his cum on your tongue.
“Now swallow, baby.”
You do as your told, closing your mouth and swallowing, then opening again to show him.
“Good girl” he praises gently. “So good for your daddy.”
You beam up at him, absolutely melting under his praise. He removes his hand from your hair and reaches out to help you stand up again. He straightens out your dress, making sure to “accidentally” brush his fingers through the mess between your legs.
“Now,” he starts, tugging the straps of your dress so that they sit evenly on your shoulders. “Go out there and talk to those boys again with the taste of my cum on your tongue.”
Your skin heats up and you look at him with wide, silently pleading eyes. Those men were only feet away from the bathroom door. If they didn’t see you two go in together, they definitely heard you.
And that’s exactly what Joel intended. So, he just gives you a devilish grin then pat your bum.
“Go on, sweetheart. Be a good girl. For your daddy.”
#joel miller smut#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller one shot#joel miller fic#Joel miller#the last of us#tlou#pedro pascal smut#javiscigarette
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Pumpkin | Roronoa Zoro ♡
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
genre: smut with a little bit of plot (minors dni)
pairings: roronoa zoro x fem reader
wc: 8.4k words
cw: mutual pining, idiots to lovers, reader gets hit on in a bar multiple times, zoros feelings are all over the place bc he's a mess, monster cock!zoro, unprotected sex, soft zoro </3, marking, bad flirting
masterlist here
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
You have feelings for Zoro and you know it, Zoro has feelings for you and doesn't know it. Everyone is collectively sick of your shit. It isn't until you get hit on in a bar and Zoro has to step in that he realises how deep his feelings for you run.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
If you squeeze that glass any harder, it's gonna shatter,” says Nami, nodding at the glass of beer Zoro holds in his hand. Zoro waves her off, sparing her a glance just to glare at her before focusing on the cause of his irritation. You're standing at the bar of the dingy lounge, talking to Sanji and the random guy who's been showing you around the new island the strawhats had docked up at. The place isn't too busy, so he can see you without looking past a crowd. Unfortunately, he can also see the new guy you've met. The guy is interested in you, leaning in to talk to you, which gives Zoro a nasty feeling in his chest. He chalks it up to being protective; he doesn't like how the man looks at you. For once, Zoro is actually grateful for Sanji's presence. The tall cook at your side, looking as enraged as Zoro feels, is intimidating to the guy who backs up a little.
“Your girl’s talking to other men. If I were you, I'd kill the guy,” says Usopp, and Zoro rolls his eyes. He is not even bothering to answer. You're not his girl. You're just friends. Zoro isn't even sure he's capable of falling in love. You step back from the guy, clearly uncomfortable, and Zoro starts to see red. It isn't until Chopper and Usopp reach out to grab him that he realises he's even stood up. Ready to jump into action. “Don't make a scene; I'm really not in the mood for a fight,” says Usopp, trying his best to push Zoro back into his seat.
When his eyes focus back on where you're standing at the bar, Zoro sees that Sanji has stepped in and told the man off. You're safe now. The man had run away with his tail between his legs, but the bitter taste in his mouth is still there. He watches intently as you walk back to the table where the strawhats are sitting, with Sanji in tow and drinks in hand. You set another glass in front of him, and just as you walk away to sit on the other side of the table, he pats the seat next to him. You raise an eyebrow at his request, his un-Zoro-like behaviour startling you.
“Just don't wanna sit next to the dumb cook”, he grumbles, looking down at the table instead of at you. You nod and slide into the chair next to him. Now that he can feel your presence next to him, he feels the weight lift from his shoulders.
“So y/n, what happened?” asks Nami, always a fan of gossip. You go to answer, but you're immediately stopped by Sanji, who butts in with his own account.
“That horrible ugly man was trying to steal our precious y/n away for his crew. As if she'd ever leave us.” he huffs out. Luffy laughs at how idiotic the idea of you leaving would be. Zoro doesn’t speak as he watches you sip your drink and roll your eyes at Sanji’s dramatics.
“That loser was just hitting on me,” you say, trying to play it down to get the attention off of you. Despite first appearing extroverted, you aren’t too keen on attention being on you. It's one of the reasons Zoro gels with you much better than some of his other crewmates. Once the conversation switches from the almost bar fight to whatever crazy made-up story Usopp tells, you lean into Zoro’s side to speak quietly in his ear. “I saw you stand up earlier; you looked like you were gonna kill him. Thank you, even if you were held back,” you say, laughing at how ridiculous he looked. Your thanks are sincere, even if you still tease him for it. Zoro has been a silent protector for you since you joined the crew. Everyone knows you’re in his top three Straw hats, alongside Luffy and Chopper. As much as he tries to convince himself that you’re tied with your captain, you’re number one and almost pulling a lead. It's clear to the rest of the crew that the only people in the world who can’t see how you feel are you and Zoro. Zoro offers you an amused smirk, close to a smile but not quite, and raises his glass. You do the same, clinking your glasses and continuing with your drink. You re-enter the conversation, talking animatedly with Nami and Usopp, but Zoro is more than happy to sit back and watch his family in a rare moment of peace. He only speaks whenever Sanji makes a comment that riles him up.
Luffy and Usopp are terrible influences on you. Your captain and sharpshooter like to have fun, which often includes dragging you into their shenanigans. They’re always making terrible drinking games and challenges, egged on by Brook and Franky. You, not one to back down from a challenge, always end up joining them. You’ve put more alcohol away in one night than you have in the last month, and when it's time to leave, Zoro and Robin take it upon themselves to support you as you can barely stand up by yourself. You sway as the fresh air hits you harder than expected. You almost let go of Robin completely as you lean into Zoro. You mumble something about not wanting to walk anymore, and Zoro sighs, signalling Robin to carry on ahead. He crouches down and tells you to hop on his back. You do so, settling yourself and pressing your face into his neck. He hears you mumble a thanks into his skin before passing out.
This isn't the first time one of your crewmates has had to carry you back to the sunny, and it definitely won't be the last. Zoro doesn't mind your weight on him; he brings you to your room, sets you down in your bed, and takes off your shoes and jewellery as carefully as he can before leaving and walking out to the deck.
“One of you ladies should probably go in there just to make sure she doesn’t vomit in her sleep and choke and die”, he says as he walks up to the edge of the ship to look out at the sea. Robin says she’ll stay with you and walks to the girls' bedroom.
“So when will you tell her you’re completely in love with her?” asks Nami, startling him.
“When will you leave me alone so I can enjoy a peaceful night.”
“You’re deflecting.”
“You’re annoying,” he says, unable to defend himself in any other way. Nami sighs and pats his shoulder.
“You need help, dude,” she says condescendingly. Nami has mastered the art of irritating the men aboard the ship; it’s a form of entertainment for her sometimes. “The sooner you tell her you like her, the sooner you can bone, and then maybe you won't be such an uptight freak anymore.” Zoro can tell her own comment tickles her, but before he can spit out a sarcastic response, he is cut off by the voice of his airhead captain.
“Are we talking about Zoro’s y/n kink?” he asks, loudly chewing on the leftovers from earlier’s dinner. Zoro doesn't even dignify that question with a response. He stomps off to the boy’s bedroom and climbs into his hammock. Clearly, he’d only get peace aboard this ship by being unconscious.
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The next day, You wake up with a throbbing in your head, and your stomach turns as you run to the ship bathroom. You empty your stomach of nastiness and head to the kitchen to get some water to drink. Sanji put some food away for you with a little note, and it warms your heart how your boys care for you. You nibble your way through your breakfast and set about looking for where everyone is.
The first person you find is Brook, sitting on a chair and drinking tea. You ask him where everyone is, and he informs you that most of the crew have gone sightseeing in the city at the island's centre. He tells you that Zoro and Usopp are the only people still in the area. Usopp is in his room, recovering from last night, and Zoro is just in front of the sunny, taking advantage of the space to get in a good workout. You decide to go and bother him.
“Hi, Zoro,” you say, approaching him. “Need a sparring partner?” you ask; seeing him shirtless is an excellent motivator. He looks at you in your sweats and tank top and laughs. He knows those are your comfy clothes and just woke up.
“That depends. Are you gonna vomit on me?”
“No”, you get defensive about your weak alcohol tolerance despite having proved your lightweight status regularly. “I don’t even have a real hangover, just a headache” you insist.
“That is a hangover, pumpkin,” he says. Pumpkin isn't a pet name; it's a nickname you were given when you first joined the crew, and almost everyone except Luffy and Robin uses it. Yet it still makes heat rise in your cheeks when Zoro uses it. It sounds different coming from him than it does coming from someone like Franky.
“I’ll be fine, I promise.” If you keep pestering him, he’ll give in eventually.
“Fine, but I'm not going easy on you”, he says, enjoying how defensive you get at any insinuation of weakness.
“I’d be insulted if you did.”
✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The sparring session ends when Zoro pins you down on your back for the fifth time.
“You’re getting better at close combat. It took me a lot longer to knock you down this time,” he says. They’re simple words of encouragement, but they make your stomach feel funny. When you catch your breath, and the adrenaline is out of your system, you realise that he's still on top of you. There's something different in how you look at him now, and you hope he doesn't notice it. You're fully aware of how your feelings for Zoro have changed in recent weeks, but you figure he doesn't feel the same way, so you've kept it to yourself. Zoro isn't the relationship type.
He seems to realise by himself that he's still hovering over you, so he quickly moves himself off you and helps you up. He mutters an apology and walks with you in silence back to the ship. In the silence, all you can think about is the view of a sweaty, shirtless Zoro on top of you. You want the image seared permanently into your brain.
When you return to the sunny, you get washed and changed. While you're in the shower, you can't help the way your fingers wander between your legs, pleasuring yourself with the thought of Zoro clouding your mind. The combination of an orgasm and a shower has refreshed you, and you decide to go into the centre to find Nami and Robin. You pass Brook on the way out, who has now been joined by Usopp.
“Were you showering with your boyfriend?”
The question stops you in your tracks. Boyfriend?.
“I don't have a boyfriend, Brook. What do you mean?” Usopp matches your confused expression, looking between you and Brook
“Are you not dating our swordsman?”
“No, of course I'm not. Why would you think that?!” you ask, exasperated by his audacity. Then it clicks in your head. You remember what you did in the shower that could've tipped him off.
“I heard you saying his name.” As the words leave Brook's mouth, Usopp gasps, finally realising where the confusion has come from. You must not have been quiet enough when touching yourself to the thought of him. Usopp looks completely embarrassed, and you hope he'll keep this secret. He's too ashamed of knowing something intimate about you.
“Nope. You were just imagining things. Anyway, I have to go and find Nami and Robin, so I'll be going now. Bye, guys, see you later,” you yell as you rush off the ship to escape the embarrassing situation as quickly as possible.
You catch up with Nami and Robin pretty fast. They split from the boys a while ago and are about to wander through a local market. They're happy to have you along as company, and Robin makes sure to ask about your hangover. You tell them that you were training with Zoro before coming out, and the mention of the green-haired swordsman makes Nami smirk. You already know how the conversation will go, but it's unavoidable.
“Did you finally tell Zoro how you feel about him?” she asks. You turn to Robin, and she just smiles and shrugs, which is code for ‘I want to know the gossip, but I don't want to seem like I'm not on your side’.
“No, because I've told you a million times that Zoro doesn't think of me that way. We had a training session today, and all he did was make fun of me for being a lightweight.”
“Are you stupid? He carried you home last night,” says Nami.
“Everyone's carried my drunk ass home at least once.”
“He's obsessed with you.” She laughs. “In every way.”
“I think Nami's right”, says Robin, and you feel like you're about to be driven crazy.
“I already told you he doesn't feel the same way. He's had so many opportunities to ask me out, and he's never even hinted at it. He's nice to me because we're close friends. That's it,” you say, frustrated at the topic. “it hurts, though; I really do like him”, you say sombrely.
They're good friends to you and respect your boundaries as much as they love to gossip. They can see you don't want to discuss Zoro anymore, so they change the subject to buying cute clothes. You look around the market for handmade garments by real natives of the area. Learning about other cultures through food and fashion is your favourite part of travelling the world.
When you arrive back on the Sunny, You go straight to the girls' quarters, avoiding Brook and Usopp, and put your bags of clothing away. You lay on your bed and let yourself completely relax into it, allowing the wear and tear of the day to seep out of your body.
Zoro, however, is less relaxed than you. Luffy has been asking him what he talked about with Nami all day. He feels seconds away from punching the over-excited man. He's repeatedly said he's not interested in a relationship and certainly not you. He's insisted time and time again that you two are just friends.
“oooh, how about you go into town with her and spend some alone time?” Before Zoro can interject and ask why, Usopp hurriedly continues. “it could be a good way to have a proper talk and find out how she feels about you.”
Zoro, angered by his friend's persistence, finally responds.
“If it gets you two idiots to shut the fuck up, I'll do it. But it's not because I like her or anything.” He says, getting up and dragging himself inside. He passes the girls’ quarters on his way down, decides to pull up his big boy pants and knocks on the door. When you call to open the door, he pushes it open and sees you relaxing. He insists he doesn't have feelings for you; you’re just close friends, but seeing you dressed down and chilled causes a switch in his brain. He wishes Nami had never said anything the night before, or he wouldn't be second-guessing his feelings towards you. “You wanna come into town tomorrow?” He asks, as straightforward as he always is. You nod and smile at him. He hums in acknowledgement and shuts the door as he walks down to his bed. You know Zoro’s personality, so his response - or lack thereof - doesn’t phase you at all. You let sleep take you as Zoro begins to cloud all your thoughts.
“They’re so into each other it's gross,” says Nami, crossing her arms. “I don't understand why they don’t just fuck and get it other with”
“At least y/n is aware of feelings. Zoro doesn't even know he's in love with her,” adds Robin.
“She’s too good for him; I don’t even know why you’re trying to play cupid with them” growls Sanji.
“They’re so obvious about it that Brook thought they were dating,” says Usopp.
“Yes, she said I was hearing things, but I'm sure I heard her moaning his name”, says Brook before Usopp can even attempt to stop him. Silence falls among the group, and Nami and Robin share a knowing glance. They leave the boys to continue gossiping and go to the girls’ quarter. You don’t open your eyes when the door opens, having heard Nami and Robin’s voices approaching. However, when you feel your mattress dip, you open your eyes to see both women sitting on your bed, smiling at you. While Robin is usually the more mature of the women aboard the ship, she still needs a good laugh now and then, and you can tell that whatever they’re about to say will annoy you. Nami’s Cheshire cat-esque grin proves they’re about to either embarrass or pull you into a scheme.
“so”, Robin starts, clearing her throat.
“We just want to warn you that next time you have a wild sex dream about Zoro, you should moan his name a little quieter,” says Nami, giggling at the look of exasperation on your face. It takes you all of two seconds before you realise that Brook and Usopp snitched on you, and you jump out of bed to confront them.
Brook hears you scream his name and knows you’re about to beat his ass and has the sense to run. Usopp, however, drops to his knees and apologises, hoping to appease you. The scene is entertaining to the rest of the crew, who all chime in about whether or not you should have mercy on Usopp.
✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
When morning comes around, you wake up and stretch. You spend a little extra time getting ready in the morning. When you leave the ship, Zoro is already waiting for you, leaning against a tree. He lets you take the lead as you walk into the town centre. The market stalls are busy, and you grab onto his shirt so you don't lose him. Zoro usually wouldn’t even bat an eye at the action. You’ve always had a mutual agreement to protect each other, but with the recent stirring feelings he's been forced to acknowledge, he’s hyper-aware of any physical contact between you. He’s taken some money from the ship to buy you food. At first, you don’t talk much, and he just watches you walk from stall to stall. You approach a stall selling jewellery, and Zoro stops behind you. The vendor looks over your shoulder at the man and pushes some chains towards you.
“What about something for your boyfriend?” she asks, and, to Zoro’s surprise, you don't correct the lady. You just nod and pick up a chain, turning to Zoro and signalling him to put it on. You don’t do it with ulterior motives; you just like buying your crewmates gifts. Maybe you didn’t correct the vendor when she called him your boyfriend to feed your secret crush, but he didn't correct her either, so no harm is done. When Zoro puts on the chain, he raises his eyebrow and asks what you think, and then he keeps it on as you pay the vendor. He still doesn't believe you have feelings for him or vice versa, so he thinks of the gift as a friendly gesture. You, however, keep getting distracted by thoughts of the chain you bought for him dangling over your face as he fucks you. He says something to you, and you have to ask him to repeat himself so you can focus on what he’s saying this time.
“We should go to that bar over there”, he suggests, pointing across the market to the bar you had been to a few nights before. You agree and follow him. You both decide to sit at the bar and get a drink each. Usually, small talk flows between you and Zoro naturally, but things seem awkward. You don’t know what's wrong with Zoro, but you’ve never seen him flounder like this. He excuses himself to the bathroom, and after he leaves, another man slides onto the seat next to you. You’re not interested, so you try to ignore his presence, and then he attempts to talk to you.
“You’re not from around here, are you? You stick out like a sore thumb,” he says, and before you can respond, he just keeps going. “I don’t mean that in a bad way, of course. You’re beautiful. What’d you say, I'll show you around?” You’d already been shown around when you first arrived on the island.
“I'm here with my boyfriend; he just went to the bathroom,” you say, hoping the guy will take the hint and leave. He doesn't and just continues to talk about himself and pitch himself as a potential partner to you. When Zoro exits the bathroom and sees the man speaking to you, he feels bile rise in his throat. You make eye contact as he approaches the bar, and your expression immediately shifts into a smile.
“Hi, babe.” The words shock him, and it takes him a second to process, but when he puts two and two together, he immediately helps you out by taking a step closer to you, so now he's stood directly behind you as you sit on the stool facing the strange man who’s approached you. He puffs out his chest and rolls his shoulders back to show off a little.
“Who’s this guy? Is he bothering you?” he asks. The role of a protective boyfriend comes naturally to him. You look up at him and nod, placing your drink on its coaster and backing up against him. His hand settles on your hip, and he internally panics about possibly going too far.
“I think we should go,” you say, grabbing his hand and turning to leave the bar. He feels that letting that loser stay in the bar and potentially harass other women while you have to leave the bar early isn't much of a punishment, so he grabs the guy by his shirt. You weren't expecting a bar fight immediately, but this is Zoro, so you take a step back and get ready to back him up if he needs it.
“You should go too; if I catch you anywhere near her, I will kill you. If I come here again and you're here, I will kill you,” he says, his other hand secured around one of his swords, and then he lets the man go. He hurries past you and out the door. When Zoro looks back at you, you’re smiling at him, and it shocks his system that you aren't even a little bit scared of him. He’s incapable of looking anywhere but you, but he knows the other patrons in the bar are watching him warily in fear. Not you, though. Your eyes are filled with something he’d never imagined to be directed at him: awe and respect. In that moment, he finally makes peace with the fact that maybe he likes you as more than just a crewmate.
“Thank you,” you say as you leave the bar. It seems like you’re always thanking him for something.
“Don’t mention it”, he says, brushing it off and focusing back on the market stalls. You pick up a few more gifts on the way home. Zoro accepts his feelings for you quickly, but now he has to figure out many other issues. Do you like him back? Is it possible for someone like him to pursue a relationship? Is he even worthy of your love? You linger on his mind when he returns to the men's quarters that night.
✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
You had spent the afternoon with the rest of the crew planning your next destination. When night finally fell, you had decided to stay out a little longer, chatting to the remaining crewmates who hadn’t gone to bed yet. When you get tired, you get up to go to bed, and Jinbe and Sanji thank you for their gifts and bid you goodnight. When you return to your room, Nami and Robin are waiting for you. You know they’re about to grill you for details about your day with Zoro.
“So, how did it go with Zoro?” asks Nami as you sit on the edge of your bed.
“It was fun. A guy hit on me in a bar, and he pretended to be my boyfriend and then threatened to kill him. Poor guy almost pissed his pants,” you say, laughing at the memory of the terrified look on the man's face.
“And you still don’t believe he’s in love with you?” she says.
“He would’ve done the same thing for either of you,” you say in defence of yourself.
“Maybe he would’ve threatened the guy, but he would never have pretended to be my boyfriend,” says Robin. You sigh and throw yourself against the mattress.
“Why are you so resistant to the idea that he might like you back?” Robin asks. “Maybe some romance would do you good.”
“Robin’s right. You two are perfect for each other. He’s an emotionally constipated loser with no social skills, and you’re an emotionally constipated loser with slightly more social skills.” Nami has gotten up from her bed and is kneeling beside you, leaning over your face.
“That was mean”, you pout, looking up at her. “I’m not a loser.”
“But you do suck at emotions.”
“It’s not that. I just don’t see why he would be interested in me,” you say, finally admitting what has been bothering you since you first developed feelings for him. The mattress on the other side of you dips, signalling Robin has joined the two of you.
“Y/n sweetheart, you’re smart, funny, and beautiful. There’s no reason Zoro wouldn’t like you,” she says, reaching out a hand to pet your head.”We’re telling you he likes you, but he's probably having thoughts similar to yours.” Robin is always a source of comfort for you, so you appreciate her words.
“Yeah, and your boyfriend is dumb as rocks, so you have to tell him,” Says Nami. You groan at Nami’s word choice.
“Whatever, I think we should go to bed”, you huff, closing your eyes in protest. Name and Robin give each other an amused look and get off of your bed. You drift off to sleep, trying to push the topic of Zoro to the back of your mind.
✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
You’re in the shower the next morning; it's your final day on the island, and you’ll celebrate at a restaurant later in the evening. You think over your conversation with Nami and Robin, and you figure there’s a possibility they're right. Before confessing to him, you decide to test the waters first and see if Zoro has feelings for you. You’re not the best at flirting, but you decide you’re going to try to hint it to him. After your shower, when you’re all changed into your outfit for the day, you go to the dining area for breakfast. When you enter the room, Sanji is bustling about in the kitchen, and Nami, Zoro, and Luffy are sitting around the table, waiting for food.
“Morning, Sanji” you call. The cook immediately turns around at the sound of your voice. “Think you can add an extra portion?”
“Of course, Pumpkin! Please take a seat,” he calls back, and you follow his instructions, taking the empty seat next to Zoro.
“Morning Pumpkin”, greet Nami and Zoro as Luffy greets you with your real name instead of the nickname. You cheerfully bid them a good morning and shuffle your chair closer to Zoro’s, who doesn't seem to notice until your knees touch under the table and he looks at you. You know you have feelings for him, but you're still thrown off by the way simply making contact with him causes you to feel butterflies. Sanji brings out the food, grinning at the instant praise he gets. He then retreats to the kitchen, knowing the rest of the crew will be awake soon.
“Food looks good,” you say to Zoro before shovelling it into your mouth. By the time you’ve finished only one bite, Luffy has cleared his whole plate and is whining at Sanji for another portion. “I can never understand how he puts away food like that.”
“It's pretty easy; I can’t do it as fast as he can, but I'm still pretty good at eating”, he says, noting his ability to demolish a plate of food in seconds.
“You can do a lot with your mouth”, you respond as his cheeks flush red and he freezes. You had initially meant his third sword, and it hadn’t crossed your mind that your response could be flirting. You fear you’ve made him uncomfortable as he’s never responded like this to flirtation before, and you quickly start to reassure him of what you actually meant.
“I didn’t mean it inappropriately; I just meant about your sword skills. Y’know, like your third sword thing. I wasn't talking about anything sex-related. I'm also not saying you’d be bad at it, and I'm sure you're great at oral-” You stop yourself before your rambling gets you in even more trouble. You and Zoro stare at each other for a second before silently turning back to your plates and continuing to eat your breakfast. You know Nami heard your entire conversation, even over Luffy's yelling, but she doesn't say anything to you for the rest of the day, which you’re grateful for. You spend most of your day talking to your crewmates on the ship. You accidentally fluster Zoro multiple times throughout the day. Not even attempts at flirting are causing his reactions, it's other interactions that could have way more suggestive meanings. He knows you don't mean them inappropriately; however, with the way your relationship has been changing lately, Zoro can't help but interpret them differently. At first, when he’s arguing with Sanji over their appearances, you compliment his physique, and he seems to shut down at your words completely. The second and final chance you get is when Chopper accidentally calls Zoro dad, and the whole team bursts out laughing, swordsman included. Through his tears, Usopp asks who the mum is, and without hesitation, Sanji and Nami both point at you. Everyone except you and Zoro laughs even harder. Poor Chopper is extremely embarrassed but only further proves everyone's point by crying about it to you.
“Y/N!. Everyone’s laughing at me. They're all so mean.” he cries, hugging at your legs. You lean down to his height and wipe some of his tears. You love Chopper, but you can't help teasing him a little.
“Oh Chopper, it's ok. Why don't you go and ask Daddy if he'll beat them up for you?” Chopper huffs and storms over to Zoro. Zoro barely responds to the reindeer, too focused on the fact that you'd just called him daddy. He breaks eye contact with you to pat the reindeer on the shoulder and threaten the rest of the crew into quieting their laughter. It only half works as multiple crewmates are still snickering under their breaths. Satisfied with the results of Zoro’s threat, Chopper sits next to Zoro. You think that all three of your unsuccessful attempts at flirting - even if they were unintentional - made him uncomfortable and decide that you'll apologise to him later when he's not surrounded by people. You excuse yourself to your room, saying that you'll start getting ready early. It's a perfect way to avoid Zoro without people getting suspicious.
You're in the middle of getting ready when the other girls enter the room. Nami and Robin both start comparing their wardrobe to the dress you have lying on the bed. When they decide on the dresses they want to wear, you get ready with casual chatter. Neither of them mention your green-haired problem. You try not to show your dejected mood.
✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Zoro isn't as lucky as you. You're all the other men want to talk about as they get ready.
“I can't believe Pumpkin has been flirting with you all day. What do you have that I don't?” growls Sanji. Zoro would usually start listing off a bunch of traits, but his response this time baffles Sanji.
“She's been flirting with me?” he says. Sanji almost falls to his knees in pure annoyance.
“You're usually pretty observant, especially with her. Have you really not noticed?” asks Usopp. It finally all clicks in Zoro’s head, and he suddenly feels like he's going to throw up. You actually might reciprocate his feelings.
“I just thought she was teasing me”, Zoro says. You're no stranger to winding him up. His temper makes him an easy target for jokes.
“She called you my dad and then acted like my mum. She already thinks you're together,” says Chopper, heart secretly pounding at the thought of the two of you actually getting together.
“and I don't think she was just playing along with the joke”, adds Jinbe. “she looked very sincere.”
Zoro listens in silence, not having the energy to argue with six men as they recount your behaviour. Sanji points out how you had interrupted their fight to compliment Zoro specifically, and Luffy recalls your comment to him at the breakfast table, which makes everyone who wasn't there gasp. You've always been a jokester, but never have you gone out of your way to fluster someone like this.
“You need to tell her how you feel, " says Franky, the only one Zoro is even thinking of listening to on romance, considering he pulled Robin of all people. “Women like vulnerability and manly emotions. You've just got to be upfront and tell her you like her. Pumpkin is special; don't lose her,” he says, offering Zoro a thumbs up. Zoro just sighs and leaves the room.
✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
You finish getting ready and turn around to show off to Nami and Robin, who are more than happy to hype you up. Getting ready and chatting with your best friends always makes you feel better. They look equally hot, which you're not shy about telling them. When the three of you finally head out to the deck, all the guys are already there. You hear a few wolf whistles, Jinbe politely compliments, and Sanji stares at the three of you with tears in his eyes. Zoro, however, avoids looking at you until you're directly in front of him. His eyes flicker down your body, and you instinctively follow suit, checking for imperfections in your outfit.
“You look nice,” He says; it sounds like he's forcing out the words, but you thank him for the compliment regardless. The tension is thick, and you don't think you'll even make it through dinner without talking it through first. Once everyone is ready to go, you say something before it's too late.
“Can we talk first? I just want to sort this out,” you say, and he nods despite looking puzzled. “You guys go on! Zoro and I need to talk,” you call as everyone starts to leave the ship. They all immediately agree and walk away with smug, knowing smiles.
Now that it's just you and Zoro, you're still trying to figure out what to say. You look down at your hands, desperate to avoid eye contact, and search your mind for how to begin your apology speech.
“So, Y/n, what did you want to talk about?” he asks, prompting you to start. Zorosing your real name instead of your crew-appointed nickname startles you, and you finally look up at him. Zoro’s always been a scary figure to the public, but this is the first time you're feeling shaken by his presence.
“I just want to apologise for making you uncomfortable.” you stutter your way through your first sentence, and even more confusion washes over Zoro’s face. “It was completely unintentional, but I still accidentally flirted with you. I really like you, and sometimes, I say mildly inappropriate things on instinct. And I'm sorry if anything I did today made you feel bad. I'm also sorry for admitting I like you when you definitely don't like me back. Why would a man like you want me? Anyway, that's beside the point. I just wanted to say sorry so that we don't have to sit through dinner with this awkward tension I've created.” you say, taking a deep breath as you prepare yourself for his response. He takes a minute to take in everything you said to him, and you hope you didn't make it worse.
“Okay, first question. What made you think I was uncomfortable? I froze up because you flustered me, which you wouldn't have been able to do if I didn't like you." Your mind doesn't even register the initial question; you can only focus on the last half of his sentence. You don't know how to respond, being completely shocked. He continues, unbothered. “Second question, who says I don't like back? Why wouldn't I like you?”
“That's two questions.”
“don't deflect, baby” He takes another step towards you, hesitantly resting his hands on your hips. “look, I hate sugarcoating shit. I like you. The rest of this insane crew has been bugging me for days about coming clean. I like everything about you. How could you think a woman like you isn't enough for a demon?” You both probably look like idiots, holding each other with bright smiles. He's in your arms, and he does like you back. “Now, do you wanna go to dinner and pretend we didn't confess our love for each other or do you wanna kiss me?”
You don't even verbally respond to his question and lean up to pull him into a deep kiss. He kisses you back with a passion and strength that could only belong to Zoro. He's so sure in his feelings for you that it makes you weak in the knees. His tongue pushes its way into your mouth as his hands move over your body. Big palms smooth and squeeze every part of you they can reach, and you groan against his mouth as he grabs your ass.
“my bed”, you pant as he pulls away from the kiss. “If the others come back, then the girls are way less likely to barge in”, you explain, grabbing his hand and pulling him to your room.
As soon as you walk through the door you turn around to face him and pull him right back down to your mouth. It's easy to get lost in his kisses; they're reassuring you that he likes you and only you. His kisses are intense, and they make you dizzy. Your nails dig into his biceps as he moves his kisses across your jaw and down your neck. You let out a moan that makes him groan against your skin.
“Been waiting for this for so long, baby.” his voice has you in a chokehold. You couldn't focus on anything else if you tried.
“me too,” you whimper, moving your hand to his hair and keeping him in place.
“Can I mark you? let everyone see you're mine?” You frantically nod, and Zoro nips at your neck to let you know your response isn't enough. You don't need to be told. You know Zoro well enough to guess he'd want you to be vocal.
“yes, please.”
With your confirmation, he attaches his mouth back to your neck as he slowly backs you up towards your bed. His teeth anchor him as he sucks on the skin, marking it so everyone knows you’re taken. When he's finished, he trails his mouth back up to your lips and presses a soft kiss to your lips. He pulls back to take another look at you, and he feels whatever coils control his emotions tighten. You look beyond fucked out, and he's barely even touched you. You're staring up at him in awe and desperation, and he can't believe what he's seeing. He thanks every deity he doesn't even believe in that you're in front of him, looking the way you do. The way your eyes shine with love and respect makes him feel funny inside, and he needs to voice it so he doesn't explode.
“You're so beautiful”, he whispers, kissing you again. “You're too good for me” He adds. You protest but are once again cut off by his lips. His fingers find the bottom of your dress, and he looks you over again. “You look so good in this. Do a twirl for me?” when you oblige and give him a full three-sixty view of the dress, he whistles lowly. He gives you one last request to take the dress off for him while he sits down on your bed.
“Can you start me off? I can't reach my zipper,” You ask, turning around. Without a word, Zoro tugs the zip down your back, and you hear him hiss slightly at the sight of your bare skin. You face him again and slowly push your dress down your body, trying to be as seductive as possible. The satisfied smile on Zoro's face tells you you're doing a good job. You unclip your bra, and his eyes greedily take in the newly exposed skin. He's practically salivating in anticipation but remains in his seat and lets you finish. He audibly moans as you turn around and bend over, slowly pulling your underwear down your legs. You kick off your shoes and approach Zoro as he takes off his shirt so you don't have to be alone in your nakedness.
He lies back against your mattress, beckoning you to join him. You climb on top of him, pressing a kiss to his lips before trailing your lips across his chest and down his abs, stopping at his waistband. Your hands are shaky and desperate in their attempt to unbutton his trousers, but you do and follow it by yanking them down and exposing his cock.
He's big. That much was evident to anyone who looked at him, but you never expected it to be as big as it is. It clearly shows on your face as Zoro runs his hand through your hair.
“Don't take more than you can” he says as you swirl your tongue around the tip of his cock. As soon as you wrap your lips around him, he feels like he's about to burst, and he immediately uses his grip on your hair to stop you. “on second thought, if you suck me off right now, I won't last very long. C'mere,” he says, pulling you up his body. “Let me get you ready for me. Sit on my face, pretty girl,” he says, trying to help you get situated above his face.
“Are you sure?” You ask, hesitant to lower yourself at all. Insecurity creeps in on you as you think about the possibility that he might not like the way you taste or you might crush him. He growls at the question, almost considering it an insult, before he realises that you need reassurance.
“Do I sound unsure to you? You better sit that pretty fucking pussy on my face right now,” he says, pulling you down flush against his mouth. His nose nudges at your clit as his tongue explores your dripping hole. You're so disgustingly wet, and Zoro loves it. He's messy with his eating, making obscene noises, so you know just how much he likes your taste. The vulgar slurping of his tongue as he all but makes out with your pussy makes you slightly embarrassed, but it's so sexy how much he enjoys pleasing you. You lose focus quickly, unable to pay attention to anything that isn't your man's glorious tongue. His enthusiasm would've had you toppling over if it wasn't for the grip he has on your thighs. “Grind on my face”, he instructs, with a slap to your ass, and this time you don't waste any time before doing as he says. You're fast approaching your orgasm as you rock against his face, and all you can do is moan his name and reach down to grip his hair. When your first orgasm washes over you, Zoro’s grip on you holds you in place as he licks you through your orgasm. You haven’t had someone else make you cum in so long, and having Zoro there makes you feel more satisfied than you have in a long time. When your hips stop moving and your breath slows down, Zoro slowly moves you off his face and helps you lay against the pillows.
“You feeling ok?” he asks, although the giddy smile on your face and the dazed look in your eyes answer his question before you even open your mouth. The Zoro from a few years ago would’ve laughed at Zoro now, A man with the monicker king of hell giving his entire heart and soul to someone else. You nod at him, giggling as he rolls on top of you. He uses his arms on either side of your face to hold himself up. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss you again. You never want to stop kissing him, and he realises this when you don’t let him pull away to speak. The way you cling to him fuels his pride. He gives up on trying to talk and kisses you back. One of his hands squeezes your boob before trailing down the rest of your body and cupping your pussy. He plays with your clit as you make out, working your up again. You try to adjust your hips so that he can slip his fingers inside you, but when he doesn't do that, you groan in frustration. “If you want something, you gotta tell me,” he says, voice dark with lust.
“Stop teasing me and fuck me”, you whine, reaching between your bodies to grasp at his cock. He lets you guide him to your entrance before swatting your hand away. He slides his cock between your folds, gathering your wetness and gives his cock a few pumps to coat it in your juices.
“Are you sure you can take it?” he asks, unable to resist teasing you for a little longer. You let out a bratty whine and writhe beneath him.
“Of course, I can take it” " you insist, despite your worries that you can’t. You’ve never slept with anyone as big as him.
“Atta girl”, he mumbles against your lips before pushing his cock into your hole. “Relax for me, baby”
You try to focus on his lips, kissing and sucking wherever he can reach and relax your body so he can bottom out inside you. He gets three-quarters of the way in before he starts to get impatient. He takes a few shallow thrusts to ease himself the rest of the way in, and the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him tears a feral growl from deep in his chest. You are equally affected, head thrown against the pillows as you moan his name. He rubs at your hips, attempting to soothe you so he can start moving. When you give him the go-ahead, he pulls out most of the way and thrusts back in, slowly picking up the pace as you claw at his back, looking for something to hold onto.
“That's it, hold on tight, baby,” he says, encouraging you to scratch up his skin. You're the perfect fit for him; Your pussy grips him so good that you almost have him believing in fate for a second. He can smell your sweat in the air, and though it should be gross, he buries his face in your neck to inhale your scent even closer. Neither of you speak from this point, and you don’t need to. You’ve both already said you wanted, and now all that's left is the sound of your moans and the way your bodies intertwine. When you pull him against you, tilting his head so that you can attach your lips to his neck and replicate the pretty marks he left on your skin, he almost cums on the spot. He belongs to you as much as you do him. Your legs shake around his waist, and your moans devolve into high-pitched whimpering, signalling your impending orgasm. He's not far behind, so he reaches a hand between you to rub your clit, and you're instantly sent over the edge. Your orgasm crashes down on you as you arch into Zoro's chest as much as you can. Your legs lock around his waist, giving him nowhere to go but over the edge with you. You gush around him with a cry of his name as he groans expletives in your ear. He fills you up with his cum, cock twitching inside you. He doesn’t pull out when he's finished, choosing instead to get comfy on your chest until you calm down. His hands tenderly rub at your tired limbs. When your breathing evens out, he gently pulls his cock out of you, hissing at the loss of warmth. He leans down to press an appreciative kiss to your tummy.
“You’re all mine, yeah?” he asks, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.
“Always”, you respond, pulling him in to kiss your lips. His hands merely brush against your chest, and he feels himself getting hard again.
“What do you say we go for a round two in the shower?” he asks, playfully nipping at your lower lip.
“I’d like that”, you hum as he scoops you up and heads off towards the bathroom
✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The other nine strawhats sit around the table at their booth, eating their meals, when Luffy realises the two of you are still not there.
“Y/N and Zoro aren't back yet”
“If they're not back yet that probably means they're banging” says nami, through a mouthful of food.
“Don't even speak about Pumpkin with that idiot” grumbles Sanji, stabbing at his plate.
“Stop complaining Sanji, it was always gonna be them” says Franky.
“Well, guess we better wait a bit before heading back to the ship” says Luffy, still stuffing his face.
Everyone's been rooting for you two from the beginning.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
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Kinknuary Day 15: Blindfold/Sensory Deprivation
Pairing: aespa Karina x Male Reader
Word Count: 5,840
[Kinknuary Masterlist]
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“Alone today, huh?”
A visible shock was seen on Karina’s face as you startled her immediately and caught her off-guard, almost spat out her sweet concoction that she mostly treasured—well, for the time being.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Karina’s bewildered face tells exactly how she’s in utter shock seeing your face at such random times, but nonetheless, you see those orbs of hers lit up once she sees you.
“Well, can I just say I just want to come here and then by a great chance, I saw you here.” You cock an eyebrow at her and in response, she scoffs as she’s not falling for your lies here, again and maybe never again.
“Come on—” Karina pulls you by your wrists, closer to her before whispering to you, “—you came to see me here, don’t you? Plus—” Karina lets go of her tight onto your wrists as she relaxes herself and puts on a hubristic demeanor. “—you don’t really go to bars like this. Don’t make me a liar—I know you.”
Well, that’s like one of the two reasons why you chose to be even at this bar even though you’re always hectic to come and most preferably, wanting to stay home just to binge-watch some movies or play all the same four games you love playing—you came to see her, intentionally with a single goal in mind wanting to be fulfilled or you won’t be able to get a good night’s sleep.
Clicking your tongue as she cracks the code, you finally admitted your true purpose on being here and that didn’t lead Karina surprised in any way. “Okay, okay—I just came here to check on you because of what happened yesterday.” Your tone is sincere as Karina can hear it laced between every word you say as she stops drinking and averted her attention towards you.
“About what? What happened yesterday?” Karina’s tone is fused with puzzlement as she seems to not know what you’re talking about but you know how she’s brushing it off by trying to pretend to be oblivious and that won’t work on your watch, nonetheless what may happen. Sitting right beside her and placing your arms onto the table, you face her as your disposition weighs gravitas.
“I heard the news—you broke up with him and you’re here to drink it off, don’t you.”
You can see the visible frustration on Karina’s face the second you bring up the topic as she manages to maintain her obliviousness but that won’t last for long as it’s bound to break at any time now.
Karina scoffs as she raises her voice a little, provoking her inner rage from bringing up the forgetful event now, “ What do you even mean by that? Nothing even happened!”
“Oh, Karina, Karina, Karina—stop telling me that and I’m here to talk that with you.” Concern paints all over your face and as much as she’s incredibly stubborn in denying the truth, you chose to really be patient with her and address the situation where both parties won’t be provoked with anger and deep grudges at the end. “By the way, where are your friends? Aren’t they supposed to comfort you—”
“What are you even talking about??” Karina angrily boils her frustration out from even diving further onto the topic as she’s still in denial, the dormant rage inside her waiting to be boiled up and erupt soon like a volcano. “Also, they’re all busy and I want to be alone by myself!”
“Hey, hey—” You grabbed her wrists and made her face you as enchantingly, your gaze makes her calm down as you reassure her with your mellow tone and with touch on her hands “—I’m sorry for bringing that up but please, talk to me.”
Karina’s unstoppable fury finds its absolute demise as it slowly dissipates, your touch and your tone calming her down as she feels defeated and you can see it in her expressions and most of all, her eyes—her eyes that never lie. You know that you’re one of her weaknesses and can’t help but unveil the truth whenever she’s with you—for multiple case—and that's the beauty of it: you have each others’ trust and no one can break that apart, not even yourselves as the platonic love of being friends is within the both of you.
“Talk to me about what happened, Karina.”
You’re maybe crossing the line in terms of her privacy and the will to reflect but nonetheless, your advances are meant for the best for her as she probably needs someone to talk to, personally even though she’s not clearly vocal about it.
Now, gaining the courage and letting herself be in a state of tranquil, she lets herself be vocal about everything as she feels the utter comfort with you and with alone, puts a smile on your face. Karina then scoffs and lets out a deep sigh before looking at the distance, feeling vexed about the situation she just saw. “I saw him with someone else, kissing t-that another girl…”
You can sense Karina’s walls breaking down, piece by piece as she was deeply hurt at what she saw, leaving a wound down her heart that she absolutely can’t bear to deal with. Her voice gets hoarse as the emotions inside her are winning yet she still manages to tell you what happened despite the struggle she’s dealing with. “And like, I was like, a-at the distance and then, my w-world just fell down after that…”
Concern paints your face as you were disheartened at what happened as you think that hurt much worse knowing that it all happened ephemerally as she probably can’t comprehend how she’s badly hurt. “Oh fuck—I’m sorry t-to hear that, Karina…”
“Oh, you don’t n-need to be sorry.” Karina wipes her tears gracefully with her index finger as she faintly smiles at you, feeling a little grateful on listening to her. Of course, your curiosity took over you as you wanted to know more of what she saw, knowing for a fact that you may gather information or to do something with it.
“Have you seen the one he cheated with? Any features you saw on the girl?”
Karina scoffs again, yet this time, anger is starting to boil down as her face permeates vengeance and utter discomfort trying to think of that girl he cheated with but nonetheless, she gave you some vague answers. “I don’t really know ‘cause I didn’t really look at her but she’s probably my height and she has wavy, red hair—I think. Tch, don’t want to talk about that bastard anymore.”
You can definitely see how annoyed she is whenever she talks about the event she would want to completely forget. Knowing such vague information can’t really put you up onto a desirable conclusion to help her with a revenge, you’d probably want to keep yourself off at their problem as you want no more harm or much better, to completely brush this off as you want Karina’s heart to probably mend slowly with you by her side.
Yes, even if the line’s crossed only with being just friends with her, you show passion and support towards her and it;s further ignites with your true feelings of love for her. Yes, that’s right—you genuinely love her to the point that you’re being on her tail and obsessed with her but those are the days where you’re completely depressed and she herself helped out of it and ever since that happened, you’ve never looked at her the same way again (in a good way, though).
Your love for her is unconditional, that you only love to see her genuinely happy as always, and you’re willing to make her happy whenever she’s feeling down if possible… and that’s true love.
When Karina’s about to take another sip, you stop her as she’s shocked with your actions yet you’re just implying a better change for her as it’s for her own good, not yours. “Alcohol’s not always the way, Karina.”
Of course, Karina lightly glares at you, pouting slightly before giving her reasoning, “Come on, I paid for this—just let me finish it.”
“Okay, but that’s your last, alright? Don’t want you to go out of here drunk that you couldn’t see straight.”
Of course, she has a point and you let her be. It’s at least better than most of the ways you’re thinking when she’s depressed or not in the mood and you’ll do everything to enlighten that glowing delight she always had. Yes, you’re determined to make her happy and that’s what makes her grateful to have a friend like you…
---
“I think we should go home.”
“To where, Karina?”
“My place—you can also stay for the night since I ditched his cheating ass.” Karina retorts, displaying her rage towards him and her authority over her place.
“Damn—never knew you’re brutal.”
“What do you mean I’m brutal? He definitely deserves it!” Karina exclaimed as she stated her point and you absolutely got it—her goddamn deserves it as you just played her with your own sarcasm, making her smile a little.
Even though with the free road and minimal traffic ahead, the ride was still killing enough time as you didn’t mind it, not when the both of you jammed onto the songs throughout the travel and even talked about some interesting topics that sure piqued both your interests as the both of you get to know each other even more. You can sense her happiness slowly recharging back to its original state as her constant bright smiles and laughs with you are enough of an evidence and that alone makes yourself feel gleeful for her own good.
“Well, I think, in your place it is…”
Well, if that’s the final conclusion, then you’ll be happy to be with for the rest of the night and maybe, something may go onto the road of no-return or something we called as a spicy one…
---
“Wow, it's still as good as when I last came here.”
Karina can’t hide the chuckle she’s doing as she feels flustered with the said compliment, knowing that she organized it all well and it’s probably a man’s dream to have a home this simple yet luxurious in anyone’s eyes.
“Well, evil spirits may come and go but it’s all looking fine—you wanna eat something, though?”
With Karina’s polite approach towards you, you might not want to decline her offer as you’re on the verge of some unbearable hunger yourself. So, without a doubt, you agreed and stood up, approaching her as she’s still busy looking for food in the fridge.
“Do you want some fried chicken? I can microwave it if you want—”
“Yeah, sure, Rina. I’ll do it myself so you don’t have to and we’ll share this…”
You then grabbed the glass tupperware from the refrigerator full of fried chicken as you prepared the ceramic plate and grabbed four for the both of you. Karina smiles from your gentlemanly advances as you initiated to do the job yourself and even though she would want herself to do the job, you just insisted on doing it yourself and that makes her heart flutter a little. You then put those delicious chicken into the microwave and set up the timer, time being the tool to test your patience as you turned to talk to her in order to kill some time of waiting.
“By the way, why are you dressed like that even though you just went to the bar?” Again, curiosity peaks your interest as you’re a bit puzzled on why she’s looking like a majestic princess with that glittery one-piece dress with only a couple of her time to spare to just drink and reflect?
“Well, what if I told you that I just wanted to dress like this?” Karina feigns her denial again, as she’s not even trying to convince you with her demeanor as the lack of gravitas made you conclude that she did something before she even went to the bar.
“And that’s a major ‘what if’, Karina. You went somewhere that’s why you dressed like that, didn't you?” You’re tone laces hubris, as you know that she went somewhere elegant to dress with the same energy of elegance. She won’t deny herself—even though she technically didn’t, and just enlightened you with a proposition.
“Okay—me and my friends went to a party and I was hesitant at first but I gave in. Also, I’m sorry I lied to you, again…”
Well, that makes much more of a sense and not going to lie, the first time you laid your eyes on her, it was an enchanting experience—it felt like your world went into an abrupt stop as you’re mesmerized on how drop-dead gorgeous she is in all aspects you can think of: her pretty, perfectly-shaped face that's visuals are blowing your mind, her porcelain skin that you’d just want to run over your fingers to feel its smoothness, her hourglass figure and that dress complimenting her curves so well and more than what you could possibly tell.
Yes, you’re goddamn in love once you saw her and you won’t be a hypocrite and deny anything unlike her—it always has been this way yet you’re just scared to confess your true feelings towards her because of her relationship and now knowing she’s pretty much in a ‘single’ status, you’ll take this opportunity slowly as your chances would be higher.
Maybe, even though it’s selfish and partly wrong on your side, there’s no harm that can be done as you won’t lose everything and will have everything to win.
“Nah, it’s fine, Rina. Also, you look great in that outfit by the way. I love it on you.”
Karina inches closer on you while you’re still leaning onto the center table at the kitchen, waiting for the food to be heated. As she approaches you closely, you could sense some rising tension from her but brush it off, thinking it’s just one of your fallacies and delusions yet it becomes more evident when she’s just inches away from you, and smiling genuinely before eyeing on your chest and maintaining eye contact towards you.
“Thanks, glad you love this outfit on me but—” Karina intoxicates you with her sweet, alcoholic breath and then catching you off-guard with a torrid kiss that made your eyes lit up in shock and excitement, her immediate actions causing you to panic, your heart tripling its beat but nonetheless, you treasure every second invested onto the kiss as you eagerly reciprocated. You find the taste of her lips addicting as you fall under her spell and you find yourself diving deeper into the intimacy of such a hot kissing session.
The earlier turmoil was now calmed as the storm is now raging between the both parties, letting both your aggressions act up as your hands roams around her waist and her body and hers roaming around the back of your head which further ignites the fiery fervor between the both of you.
Such good things can be met with their own denouement as she pulls out of your lips’ embrace slowly, and then looking at your eyes endearingly and said, “I know what you're feeling—” Karina then points at your chest, onto your heart and continued, “—I can feel right here, beating for me.”
Well, her clever mind found out your genuine adoration towards her as there’s no point of turning back or denying—you just need confirmation from yourself even though it’s not needed, the beat of heart says so and she can feel it.
“You may not know this, Karina but—” Your hands then caressed her slender waist throughout the expensive clothing as your eyes captivate her, “—I've fallen in love with you ever since we’ve met yet I’m just scared to tell it all to you…”
You let yourself be free from the shackles that confined your true feelings for her as this opportunity should be seized up to its finest. You’ve never felt such a great sigh of relief until she directed what you’re really feeling and now with yourself being free and eased up, you couldn’t contain your need for her as you’re the one who initiated another kiss this time as the sloppy sounds of it became evident on how much you needed each other. Such clashing of soft fleshes never felt so good, and it’s better when Karina’s tongue starts dancing all over yours, intertwined as both muscles fight for dominance and utter adoration. With the messy, sloppy kisses that’s been going on for minutes, the both you further indulged into it as you didn’t mind the messy saliva that was all over your mouth since you’ve started.
“God—y-you’re such a great kisser…”
“You too, Karina—I never knew I needed this.”
Karina sighs as she felt flustered from your actions, and enlightened you with her own feelings too. “I never knew I’ll feel the same as you did to me, honestly…”
You felt a surge of serotonin when Karina grabbed your hand and directed it onto her chest—even though it's a little uncomfortable due to the feeling of accidentally touching her busts, you’d trust her because you trust her—and then, you can feel the subsequent fast beating of her heart.
That alone makes you feel flustered knowing that the feelings are mutual between each other and you’d like to take a step further yet you need great pace with that, of course.
“Can you feel it? It’s just the same as what you’re feeling too…”
Exchanging smiles because of the comfortable feeling she has shown you, you initiated another torrid kiss yet this time, you didn’t fully invest your attention towards kissing her intimately but rather, fondled her massive mounds that you’ve always wanted to touch yet something provoked her which scared you.
“Hey! Oohh~”
“Oh shit—I’m sorry, Karina—”
“No!” Karina then grabbed your hand as she directed it onto her mounds for another time, making you involuntarily squeeze them gently and fondle them with care and in response, she moaned beautifully as its almost inaudible yet it blessed your ears and it’s such a brilliant cacophony to hear. “I want more of this~”
Given the green light, you gently kiss her neck and collarbones while fondling her tits with care and inevitably, she lets out such angelic moans that you can listen to all damn day if it means to make you feel good on your end too. Your hands can’t latch onto anything but her pillowy mounds that are magnetized within your touch as you can’t be bothered to stop due to how stress-relieving and soft those are—you’ll definitely treasure this one as Karina herself is more than a golden treasure you’re glad you can possess.
It didn’t take long before she let you take off her dress within a single motion, removing the strap off just to unveil her taut nipples all on display and you could feel your hunger coursing down your veins once you saw those buds being stiff. Of course, wanting Karina to be comfortable, you need her permission first before doing anything that can let anybody know how insatiable she is for you.
“May I?” You asked while kneeling down in level with her chest and with that actions if yours, she’s getting the grip of what you want to accomplish for both of your gratifications.
“Go ahead, baby—oh fuck! There~ ohh—shit,so good!”
Subsequent moans escape her lips as you gently nibble the bud with your teeth and then latch your tongue on it to stimulate the taut nipple, offering the best quality of pleasure possible for her. While you’re fully invested on feasting onto the succulent taste of her mounds, Karina takes some energy to let you know about her wants as you stopped and take some time to eavesdrop on her proposition.
“C-can we take this on my b-bedroom—there’s more room there for us to do this, or maybe even m-more—ahh~”
Within a speed of light, you instantly agreed onto it as she faintly smiled yet full of glee with the wants being mutual. “Of course, Karina—we should’ve thought about this sooner, honestly.”
“You’re right—but let’s g-go now. I can’t wait to see what you can do for, and to me…”
It’s only a matter of time before you settle yourselves onto the climax of the show where everything will be unveiled, within your very eyes…
---
“Oh gosh—k-keep doing that, baby…”
Constant fondling ensues as the sultry sounds escaping her lips fuels you to further keep up the pace and the momentum going. It was pleasurable for the both of you, as her constant, subtle writhing was enough of an evidence everytime you lay your fingers or your lips onto her sensitive body as you worship it, from head to toe, probably.
Even with all of these things on the way, you can’t help but think of one thing that’s been clouding your mind ever since and with that thought, it would be perfect but you need to enlighten Karina first with your proposition as it’s willing to find the best gratification between both parties.
Now laying onto the bed, you look deeply at Karina’s glowing orbs as you mutter, “I think there’s one way to make these things better, for you and me…”
Karina’s eyes lit in excitement on what you may have in store, and also, anticipation fully rules over her and so is curiosity, making up for all the elements of being a cute, curious cat that she most likely possesses.
“Hm, you’ll see, Karina—but for now—” You let herself rest on the bed as you rose up and got something onto her drawer. Karina trusts you truly as she let herself fully anticipate your possible reward and as you face her again, she notices a black strip of cloth being brought over by you as she’s perplexed with that, thinking what you may do to her.
“Why do you have that? What are you going to do with it?”
You smirk with your devilish thoughts in mind, opting to let her anticipate for the fullest yet you’ll let her know what you had in mind that probably corrupted you for so long. “You know, Rina, I’ve thought of really doing this with you but only if you want to…”
“What is it?”
You leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Maybe a blindfold will make things better, isn’t it?”
Of course, Karina’s eyes glisten with everything that’s lustful and utter anticipation as you almost feel like you’re going to submerge into kissing her but you refrain from that, sticking onto the plan that you have in store for her. Karina then rose up from her previously laid position as every movement she does with her naked body in display is just hypnotizing yet you didn’t bother yourself drooling and wrapped her head with the dark cloth that’s on your hands, forming up a blindfold that will make anything more pleasurable as her senses will took over her, letting her savor every moment possible.
“Too tight?”
“No, it’s perfectly fine…” You can see Karina’s head wandering around as her lack of vision lets her fight-and-flight response to activate but with her utmost trust bestowed towards you, she feels comfortable as she succumbs to your care and you’ll absolutely treat her with what your heart can do, at its best.
“You sure you can’t see anything, Karina?” Of course, you need to double-check and further confirm if she can’t see anything before you start the multiple things you’ll do with her as Karina nods eagerly, persuading you that all she can see are dark hues and nothing else.
“What number is this?” Still hesitant, you draw your fingers into the air and form a number ‘three’ with it to make sure Karina can’t see anything. Growing impatient, Karina whines adorably as she’s still convincing you that she can’t see anything but in reality, you’re just annoying her just to see how adorable she is and how that cuteness of hers will soon fade when you sullied her—
“Come on, can you just—ooh—oh! That’s g-good~” Karina, still on the trance of being feisty, moaned immediately once you’ve pinch her taut buds with your fingers as you slowly relaxed her slender figure onto the bed, letting her imagination be her limit as she uses her senses to attend her needs and feel such gratification. You continue fondling her mounds until your other hands roam onto her toned midriff, her smooth, creamy thighs that you definitely nuzzle on for hours and the main event, her succulent, wet pussy that’s ready to take you, more than anything.
“You like that, Karina—the way my fingers just tease you? Oh, you could just feel it and if you can see right now, you’d probably know how wet you are, dripping onto the sheets…” With her heightened senses, she muffled her moans in order to feel and hear every action you do onto her body yet she can’t, and rather find each moan increasing in volume as she voices out her delight. You could hear her pleas as she seems needy and helpless with her state, and you, yourself, can’t even bear to see her whining uncontrollably without her needs being attended to yet you need more foreplay to fire the lust that’s been igniting inside her.
“Just a bit more, Karina—just wanna let you feel how good this is…”
“I k-know but p-please, baby—I can’t t-take it anymore!”
You can’t just let her plead for eternity, and even with your own needy self being encouraged to dive into it deeper, you listen to the voices inside your head and let your hips do the work—the mere containment of each others’ needs shouldn’t be retained further, and let everything be unveiled.
With only her sense aiding up to make herself be in the momentum of peak pleasure, she could only know you’re planning something ahead of this as she yelped once she felt your tip brushing against her wet folds and immediately, her thighs quiver and she squirmed in need in response of your teasing actions. With the deprivation of her senses, especially on her vision, she could only moan (almost screams) in need once you’ve plunged your length inside her and even with only your tip being hugged by her velvety walls, you could definitely feel her tightness as it’s gripping like its last and that’s one hell to define utter gratification.
“Fuck—you’re s-so tight, Karina—shit, so fucking tight!”
“Oh god—y-you’re so big—so good, oh god! I n-never felt this good!!”
You then start to pump onto her gripping walls with a moderate pace, aiming for her to really feel the pleasure and they way how your cock moves inside her wet cunt. Not being able to see opens a lot of opportunities especially when imagining something, and that’s probably what Karina’s doing as she treasures every thrust you do, your movements only aiming to further increase her needs for you and her libido. You start off slow, and gradually, build up the pace for some time yet you want to extend that so that Karina will most likely savor every hammer you do onto her wet, squelching cunt as her moans are strong evidence that she’s loving every second of this.
With only your tip inside when you withdraw, and then slamming back in, balls-deep is such an incredible factor that Karina finds, especially when she can’t see anything and would just feel everything you do. You’re hammering onto her wet cunt hard as you savor the grip her pussy does around to your raging length and to further stimulate her, you won’t just grip her hips and fuck her with a constant, relentless pace but rather, let her feel more than just one epicenter of attraction. With deep hunger and insatiability over her, your lips latch onto her sharp collarbones and her neck, making her feel your affection alongside your constant pumps into her pussy. The stimulation she’s experiencing right now is more than phenomenal as everything you do highlights every single detail on the utter gratification she’s feeling and that alone is such a great feeling for her to feel. It didn’t take long before you fondle her mounds again for the umpteenth time to further pleasure her as both your moans resonates around the puny room that’s soon will unable to cover them all, releasing symphonies of lust in which, will be the last thing you want to encounter.
“Does it feel better, Karina?”
It took her seconds before she could come up to articulate what you’ve just said, the peak pleasure she’s feeling frying her brain and making her incapable of thinking straight. “Y-Yes, it does—oh god, w-we should’ve done t-this sooner—ahh~”
You suckle onto the porcelain skin of her neck, tasting the musky flavor of her skin as sweat dribbled over it, the heat of the moment finally being permeated onto minuscule droplets. Your harsh suckling tends to almost mark her, which she can feel as her hands roam all over your torso, specifically on your chest as she mutters, “D-Don’t mark me p-please…”
“Yeah, yeah, I won’t mark you, Karina, don’t worry…”
Now, with a profound fervor and intense rush of need towards her, your hips are now starting to quickly build up a breakneck pace, maybe, capable of breaking her in half as you go ruthless, letting your animalistic urges take over you. Your constant rhythm sends both of your brains into an overdrive that no one can fix but yourselves and you may not even bother too, wanting yourselves to dive in between your devilish needs and the utter wanton needs that you’ve been longing for and been deprived of for a long time.
Having enough of showering her with kisses and the fondling of her tits that further submits her into utter submission, you then held her frame with both of your hands on her hips as you ensued a more ruthless pace, further hammering her wet cunt with no point of mercy and even returning back as her moans are now being converted to needy whimpers and cries which further fuels you to increase your quality of thrusts. Her senses being deprived is maybe a blessing in disguise, because on what you can conclude, she’s becoming more wetter and letting her imagine what could be happening—even down to the last, minute details—is just throwing gasoline onto the flames of lust and your needs.
Now, with a newly-crafted pace, another rhapsody has been orchestrated as it hits a series of wonders throughout your brain and Karina’s, as the pleasure was being the tool of forming melodies to voice out your satisfactions. She then wrapped her legs around your waist as you continue hammering her wet folds like there’s no tomorrow, her moans encouraging you for more and for the best of everything even though it isn’t needed—if you could only see the glint of lust within her eyes, and how it glows is her own, wanton needs, then you’ve probably broke loose and speaking of that, it’s coming not for long and it’s just going to be better.
With the constant barrage of uncontrollable thrusts resonating such cacophonous sounds of bodies clashing together and such angelic moans, it wasn’t long before Karina deemed herself to reach closer to her eternal bliss, chasing her orgasm with her hips gyrating onto your constantly ramming length and then—
“I’m super c-close—gahh, ooh~”
The world lit up white as she succumbs onto that bliss, despite the darkness that envelops her vision as she unshackles the beast inside her, creaming all over your length as it stains everywhere on its vicinity of your nether regions: your length, your balls, the bed sheets, and some even shooting onto the floor but those were only minimal amounts.
With the arousing sight of Karina cumming hard as she can’t manage to really control how hard her orgasm hit her, it wasn’t long before you could also feel yourself drawing close to the ring of fire. With more ruthless thrusts in order to chase yours, it’s all bound to break as you immediately find your lips latching onto hers, sharing a torrid kiss in which she eagerly reciprocated and then, everything came loose.
You bury your entire length, filling her up to the hilt as you deepen the kiss, letting her know how you’re in your approaching orgasm as you fill her up with multiple streaks of thick, warm semen that’s bound to set both yourselves onto the state of paramount bliss, in which, it does. You pull out of the torrid kiss as the muffled moans from earlier are being vocally being heard, finally voicing out how great the both of you are feeling throughout your orgasm and her walls being painted white.
Now, with your impending orgasm, you slowly limp beside her as you recover from your high as does Karina, breathing heavily, chest heaving for air. You then turn onto her and remove her blindfold in one, swift motions and god, she looks ethereal, like a beautiful butterfly emerging from its cocoon as her beauty never fails to amaze you, let alone adore her in levels you can’t comprehend. She smiled widely as her endearing eyes greets you, feeling satisfied that you’ve dumped a nice volume of load inside her cunt that she’s been longing for so long now.
“Oh, that was w-way better than I expected…”
The both of you exchange smiles as delight can be felt coursing down your veins, and you immediately voiced out how great the experience was. “See? I know you’ll love these kinds of things—I told you…”
The two of you shared another intimate kiss, but this time, it’s fully passionate as the ardor between both parties ignite and not so long after, she pulled out of your lips’ embrace as you hugged her tightly, feeling the warmth of her body complimenting yours as the intense surge of adrenaline of pure passion is just clouding both your minds, unable to find out of such a wholesome cuddling session.
“Thanks for c-cumming inside me—I really wanted that for so long.”
You scoff, feeling a little shy yet in all arms in terms of giving her what she wanted. “No problem, Karina—you felt great too… Hah…”
With silence permeating the air on the once lust-filled room, the both of you stared at each other endearingly before Karina thought that something’s not right and suddenly, a spark ignites inside her—
“Oh gosh—the chicken! We totally forgot about it!!”
And well, gladly your hunger met a hindrance, and guess what? It was all for the better as you get to bless yourself with the treatment of Karina’s insatiability and that alone, is a five-star meal you’re willing to savor and cherish for the time being.
Perhaps, maybe treat you to another, if given the right time…
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6.5: baby 》 series m.list
note: oh my gawd ,, my friends !!! i’m so sorry for the wait! i was in my finals szn & tryna figure things out w my courses for my next sem … meanwhile ,, this entire ch has been brewing and consuming my mind like crazy! hope u guys enj ,, pls pls pls lmk what u guys think !!! i’m so glad i can finally push this ch out so lets fcking tawk abt it 😫
warnings: making out, mini fingering moment, raw sex, grinding, thigh humping ? ass slapping, pussy eating, 69, doggy style, cum shots & filming / sex tape vibes……… dirty talk / name calling <3 lol !!!
taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “c2u” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!
🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main
fic taglist: @mint--yoongs @ellesalazar @bloopkook
//
Jungkook was afraid of this.
From the moment he first made you laugh—oh, he knew he was fucked. Something inside him twisted and turned until his mind found ease from your very touch. Then, suddenly and all at once, every fiber in his body surrendered. Though he didn’t do the best job, he still tried. He tried his best to resist you and the feelings his heart felt. As his heart found rest with yours—it was then he realized that it was no use.
He was addicted to you.
It’s like he’s a child all over again, tasting his favourite chocolate bar for the first time. It’s like he’s a timid high schooler trying weed and getting so high, that he’s already making plans to do this again tomorrow. Or, it’s like he’s a man falling in love for the first time.
For real.
No bullshit, just the plain and boring truth. No, he wasn’t only addicted to you… Jungkook is falling in love with—
“Cute room.” You step into his room and shut the door behind you. The room is dim, only lit with his warm lamp light and a few candles placed around. It looked romantic and for some reason, it did not scare you. If anything, it entices you.
He was so thoughtful.
Before you can look around any further, you feel Jungkook’s body embrace yours. He wraps himself around you, holding you tight by your waist and digging his face into the crook of your neck. He kisses you behind your ear, causing you to giggle from the ticklish feeling. At this moment, you take in the scent of his freshly washed hair.
Is it odd to say this has to be one of your favourite scents? You’ve grown to like it. If anything, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed when you see him and his hair isn’t a little damp. Something about him being freshly showered makes your heart race. His damp hair is a symbol of his priorities… And that priority is you. Not to mention, wet hair has got to be the most romantic look any boy could have… You’ve always told yourself that as a child. Now, here you are: standing in a room with a damp-haired boy clinging to you.
Nothing makes you happier than this.
“I think Yuna saw me—mmfphh,” your words are interrupted by Jungkook’s lips. He greets you with a peck before continuing to kiss you like it’s his last dying wish.
His hands find their way to your hair, cupping your jaw as you kiss him back. Your lips sync together as if it’s been a lifetime since you two last did this.
Only it wasn’t—it hasn’t been.
It feels like it though.
“Miss me much?” you ask, breaking away from the intense kiss. He leans his forehead against yours, wasting no time and letting his hands travel inside your shirt. You feel his fingers trace over your bra, quickly finding the clasp and undoing it with his one hand.
Impressive, you must admit.
Should you be mad at that?
Jungkook smirks, “fuck around and find out.”
A small laugh escapes your lips as you raise your arms. He lifts your shirt over your head, leaving your top exposed. Your bra is barely hanging on and Jungkook can’t keep his eyes off your breasts.
“How about a hi first?”
“Hi ___,” he obliges. Then, he taps his fingers together, bringing them close to his lips. Like a menace, he grins. “Well, well, well… What do we have here?”
Playfully, you roll your eyes at him and respond by taking the bra off yourself. You fling it at his face, just enough for it to land perfectly on top of his hair. One cup covers his face and he takes a breath in.
“Smells like you.”
“Smells like my boob sweat, you pervert.”
He takes the bra off from his face and licks his lips at the sight of your bare chest. “I can keep it in my pants… You on the other hand… A few nights ago? Drunk? You were coming on to me. Hard.”
You huff. “I was drunk.”
“You also said you’d hold my hand… Without arguing with me.”
“What? That doesn’t count. I was drunk.” Your words come out fast. It almost sounds defensive and harsh. “Jungkook, I was drunk.”
“Oh, I know.” He shrugs, taking the high road. “No need to be so uptight about it. It’s okay to hold hands, you know? The same way it’s okay to be obsessed with me, baby… This is a safe space.”
The audacity! More than that, you wince at the pet name. “Who the fuck is baby?”
Jungkook ignores your question and takes a step closer to you. As he does so, he takes his shirt off. He then tosses his shirt to the side of his room where his laundry hamper is. As you turn your attention back to him, your eyes fall on his pelvis area as he begins to undo his pants. Then, he pauses when he notices your gaze.
“Do it for me.”
You raise a brow.
“Pardon?”
“Take my pants off,” he points at the floor. “Get on your knees and take my pants off.”
For a split second, you hesitate. Earlier tonight, as you made your way over, you thought about what kind of mood he must’ve been in. You’ve seen Jungkook happy, irritated, tired, and even hangry… But horny in a needy and demanding way? Boarder-line desperate? Never. His doe eyes and goofy attitude can’t fool you… You’ve wondered about this.
You’ve waited for this side of him.
Perhaps it was your curiosity that answered for you because, without breaking eye contact, you fell to your knees. Jungkook’s gaze lowers as you bring your hands to his crotch. You palm him, feeling his cock and gulping at how hard it already was. Faintly, you hear him snicker at your submissiveness.
He likes this.
Slowly, you undo his pants and tug them down. In his Calvins, his raging boner greets you. Just as you slip your thumbs in between the fabric to pull them down, Jungkook grabs your wrists and pulls you to stand up. You follow his lead, confused.
“I thought I was going to—”
Jungkook undoes your cargo pants buttons and tugs them down. He gives you no warning as he licks his thumb and slips his hand inside your panties. You feel his wet thumb rubbing your clit. Your breath hitches as he draws circles and then adds another finger into the mix. He deepens his rubbing, slowly but surely dragging his fingers around your folds. Jungkook then shifts his hand placement, quickly inserting a finger inside of you. The shock sends shivers down your spine and completely takes your focus. He adds another finger and it earns a lewd moan from you.
“Ooh my god—”
Then, he stops.
He takes his fingers out and examines the wetness. Your eyebrows furrow together, completely unsure of the pace he’s going at. How long would this last? Why couldn’t he just continue?
“Sorry, were you enjoying that?” Jungkook asks innocently.
It’s official: you hate him.
Dumbfounded, you shoot him a glare. “Maybe I was. Who knows? I wasn’t finished.”
Jungkook exchanges with laughter. “Finished? Five minutes in? Pookie, you give me way too much credit.”
You stick your tongue out at him, annoyed at how cocky he is. Truth be told, this suited him. The nasty comments and the edging… It feels like this should’ve happened before. It’s hard to explain but he just looks so comfortable with control. In a more unexplainable way—you can’t help but feel comfortable with it.
“Come on,” he nods towards the bed. “If you wanna finish, you should do it sitting on my face.”
His words make your tummy flip. Was he serious? The texts he sent prior to this.. You were so sure it was all talk. The most you expected was a quickie and a few nasty exchanges… But this? You don’t know what to think.
Jungkook lays on his bed first, gesturing you to follow.
“Are you serious?”
With a flat tone, he answers: “Why would I joke about this?”
To be completely honest, he was a little offended you weren’t taking him seriously. Of course, he’s serious about eating you out. This was no joke to him.
Crossing your arms, you look at him in disbelief. “You want to do everything you texted me? Jungkook, there are people downstairs. Our friends are downstairs and—”
“I know,” he groans. “That’s why you need to shut the fuck up and sit on my face already. The longer we take, the more they will wonder where you are. Didn’t you say Yuna saw you come up here?”
“Y-yeah,” you recall. “Maybe we shouldn’t—”
He hits his bed with his fist like a child. “Why do you always deprive me?”
You gasp at his dramatic question. “Deprive you? It’s just my body, Jungkook. Do you crave pussy this bad?”
Tilting his head, he looks at you softly. “You,” he breathes. “I crave you.”
A silence falls between you two, followed by a heavy sigh.
“Look, I’m never going to make you do things with me if you don’t want to. I’m only demanding tonight because I just—I really need you right now. If you want to go downstairs and find Yuna, go ahead. We can do this another time… I just thought you missed me just as much as I missed you.”
“Gaslighter.”
He chuckles, attempting to hide the smile on his face as you get on the bed. Moving closer to him, he watches your hands roam from his abdomen to his jaw. Placing chante kisses on him, he stutters his words. “I’m s-serious. It’s fine. It’s just pussy.”
“But it’s my pussy.”
“True,” Jungkook agrees, leaning back and watching you place yourself on his thigh. “So fucking true, pookie.”
You lean in to kiss him. His lips chase yours when you pull away, only to grind your hips. He feels your wet pussy on his thigh and he feels like he could choke on air. It’s torture watching you throw your head back at the sensation. You can’t help but embrace the feeling of relief.
“You’re not finishing on my thigh,” he mutters, placing his hands on your waist. He lifts you just enough for you to get off. Laughing, he squiggles down the bed so you have more space. Before you know it, you’re making yourself comfortable on his face. As you straddle yourself on, you make a confession.
“W-wait, I’m scared! I don’t want to suffocate you—”
“Shut the fuck up.��� Jungkook snaps, unable to watch his tone. “This is literally all I’ve ever wanted so you need to shut the fuck up and let me have this.”
“Okay, okay,” you snicker lightly, as you sink into his face. “But seriously! I don’t want to crush—“
You don’t even finish your sentence. You’re cut off by the feeling of Jungkook’s hot breath against your pussy. Then, you feel his nose against your clit and the texture of his tongue brush against your folds. The feeling shocks you, causing you to lift yourself out of reflex. Just as quickly, Jungkook wraps his arms around your thighs and holds you to stay.
“J-Jungkook, I can’t—”
“Yes, you can. You can and you will, got it?” he hisses. “Hold the fucking headboard if you need to. You aren’t going anywhere until your cum is on my tongue.”
You do as he says.
You lean forward, grabbing a hold of his headboard for support.
Just as those thoughts immerse your mind, you feel him dragging his tongue across your folds. It begins slow and soft. It feels like kitten licks and if the word cute was a feeling… This was it. Then, he flicks his tongue and it’s everything but cute from here on out. You want to jolt, but you keep what Jungkook said to you in mind. Besides, there is no place in the world you would rather be at than here. Jungkook eats you out like he’s a starved man. He doesn’t miss an inch of your pussy and tightens his grip around your thighs each time your body twitches.
Biting your bottom lip, you hold in your moan.
He feels so good. His tongue against your wet pussy feels so fucking good—it’s almost comical how you were so hesitant to do this. Soon enough, you let go of the headboard and search for his hands. Like second nature, you and Jungkook intertwine your fingers together and finally, you close your eyes and give in.
You can have this.
You can have him.
“Y-you feel so good,” you confess shyly. “You make me feel so good.”
Jungkook smiles against your pussy as you begin to roll your hips against his face. He knew it would take some time, but you’d eventually come around. No pun intended.
“C-close,” you utter in between heavy exhales. “Jungkook—I’m close! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”
You hold his hand tighter and push your weight on him harder. You feel him quicken the pace as he licks you and—holy shit.
Are those stars?
You cum.
Messy, wet, and hard.
Jungkook moans against your pussy, taking a moment to bite your inner thigh. Your legs practically shake, causing you to completely rest your weight on his face. After a few moments, you gather whatever energy you have left and shift your position. You turn your body around and line yourself with his cock. Jungkook stretches his neck out to figure out what you’re doing. Before he can comment, your lips are already placing kisses on his dick. Your fingers dig into his Calvins and pull them off.
“W-what are you doing?” He asks, voice shaking from anticipation. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew what you were doing—he just couldn’t believe it. He’s so fucking lucky.
“34 plus 35! Do the math,” you tease. “Keep it up, okay?”
Jungkook laughs, pinching your ass in response. “Keep up with me then.”
“Is that a challenge?”
He rubs the spot he pinched your ass and shakes his head. “I already have one point… Doubt you’re gonna catch up.”
“You could nut twice,” you suggest. Then you turn your head and shake your ass in his face. “For me? So we’re even.”
Jungkook bites his lips. “Then it wouldn’t be a completion.”
“I hate losing.”
“So do I.” Jungkook then wastes no time. He digs himself in you again, flicking his tongue at all the right times and places.
You groan, hating how much you love this. You try to focus. After pumping him a few times, you stuff his cock in your mouth. Moaning from how thick he is, you suck him off. Your cheeks begin to feel a little sore after a few minutes, but by then his dick is up. He’s as hard as can be and you can even feel his veins come out more and more. Every time you pull his cock out, you make sure to be as loud as you can. The pop sound makes Jungkook’s blood rush to his dick and the way you suck him so sloppy and hard only reminds him of the time you did this in his car. That night, Jungkook had never felt more attracted to you.
Your jealousy had consumed his every thought for days after.
Just like that, Jungkook’s stomach twitches. He feels a rush and it goes straight from his dick and out.
Like a loser, Jungkook cums and whimpers loudly.
“F-fuck yes. Holy shit, ___.. Just like that… Mhmm,” his breath hitches. “Fuck!”
Lips pressed against his dick, you let his cum spill on your face. Mostly, it hits your nose bridge and your upper lip. You shift off of Jungkook and kneel in front of him. He gulps, watching you with longing eyes. You stick your tongue out, bring your fingers to where his cum landed and taste it. You lick your lips and swallow with a cute moan.
“Yummy.”
He hisses, and immediately takes you by the waist. You giggle, unable to stop it from becoming a laugh. “Did that turn you on, pookie?”
Jungkook glares at you, swiping a bit of his cum with his thumb. Without warning, he then shoves his thumb into your mouth. As you suck, he cups the rest of his hand around your jaw and ravishes at your beauty.
A layer of sweat makes you shine, and the strands of your hair on your forehead never made you look so beautiful to him before. Your lips are perfect—puffy and tainted with his cum. Your eyes—god, your eyes… They’re smiling at him and he swears he has never felt his heart flutter like this ever.
As you sit on top of his dick, you roll your hips against it. When you do this, both of you watch it happen. You lean back, planting your hands on each side of his legs. Jungkook watches as your folds drag and split open against his cock. You can’t help but let out hitched breathes as you take in the feeling of his member. How his veins feel against you. How his soft skin feels as you soak it with your wetness.. All of it.
All of him.
“You like that, hmm? You like grinding on my cock with your pussy all wet?” He pries, turning up his dirty talk. “Come on, baby… You know how I like it, right? Why don’t you be a good girl and put it in? Sink into it like the little cockslut you are… For me?”
You moan, hissing his name. “Jungkook, shut the fuck up. Just enjoy this.”
As punishment, you rub yourself on him harder. Each roll of your hips has more pressure and his dick feels like it’s going to explore. He watches, hating you more and more as his head turns red. You hump his cock, moaning at the sensation.
“Holy shit,” Jungkook whines. “I’m not gonna last even if you ride me.”
“Loser.”
He chuckles, too lazy to put up a fight. “Let’s go doggy, please.”
You think about it. “Beg for it.”
“Very funny.” Jungkook doesn’t wait for your response. He tosses you over and gets on his knees. You arch your back and get taken aback when Jungkook swiftly places a pillow under your stomach. You turn back to give him a confused look.
“You might cramp.”
Huffing, you bite back. “I won’t cramp. You’re gonna nut before I cramp.”
He rolls his eyes at you and tells you to shut up. You bite your bottom lip, even more excited and eager to feel him. Doggy style isn’t your favourite… But for some reason, it feels hot. Doing this with Jungkook makes your mind spin and you aren’t sure if your playful remarks are masking how nervous you are. Underneath your teasing, you have no idea how you’re doing or saying any of these things. How are you even doing this with him right now? It’s fucking wild.
“Gonna put it in now,” Jungkook’s voice sounds a little parched at this point. “If you cream my dick, can I film it?”
His question catches you by surprise.
“Your face wouldn’t be in it… And y-you don’t even have to say yes. I just… I miss you sometimes and I think about fucking you a lot so a video would be—”
“I trust you,” you say, flipping to face him. “Honestly? I’ll film a bit of it. Bet it’ll get you off in the future.” Then, you reach over his nightstand and swipe on his phone to the camera icon. You hold it and press record. Jungkook smirks and you zoom into his face.
“Cute,” you laugh.
Again, Jungkook rolls his eyes but loves every moment of this. You go back on all fours and hold the camera out. It captures half of your face, a bit of your boobs, and your ass. Jungkook places himself at your rear. You watch from the screen as Jungkook spits on his dick before he pushes himself inside you. He thrusts a few times before you let out a moan.
You bite your lip for the camera and let a giggle escape in between Jungkook’s thrusts. His breathing gets heavy as he picks up the pace and fucks you harder.
“J-Jungkook,” you whimper.
“Louder,” he commands as he fucks you. You close your eyes, taking in how good he feels inside you. He’s throbbing. He’s so fucking big.
“Oh my god, Jungkook! Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me harder! Please, please, please!”
“Say my name,” Jungkook growls. “Say it louder.”
“Fuck me,” you ignore his request. “You’re so big. I’m so fucking lucky. I love it. I love your cock so much!”
He slaps your ass.
“Say my fucking name.” Jungkook pushes himself deeper into you, taking his time doing so. You hate how slow it feels now. “Whose making you feel this way? You’re so wet taking my cock in. Don’t be a bad girl… Are you a bad girl?”
“N-no,” you cry, feeling each thrust intensify.
“What are you then? My little slut? My fucking cock hungry slut? You won’t even say my name… You’re just a dirty bad girl. Fucking disrespectful at this point.”
“No, I’m not!” you feel tears begin to jerk in. “I love your cock too much to disrespect it—I,” you catch your breath, “I’m not a dirty bad girl!”
“What are you then? Because if you were a good girl, you’d say my fucking name… Say it. Be a good girl and say whose fucking cock you’re going to cream.”
“J-Jungkook!”
“Louder.” He pauses, leaving his cock to twitch inside you.
“Please… Fuck me so good I cream your cock…”
“No. My name. Say my fucking name—”
“Oh my god, Jungkook!”
He smirks.
Jungkook loves this so much. It does more than feed his ego—it ignites it.
He loves the way you say his name. He loves the way you call for him and how soft your tone gets when the sentence gets to his name. He absolutely fucking loves it.
“Yes, yes, yes!” you sob as he continues to fuck you. He fucks you rough, sloppy, and messy. You feel his dick slip in and out so easily that the friction is pure pleasure.
“Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook,” you chant. “I’m not a good girl—I’m just…”
“You’re what?”
“I’m your girl,” you exhale. “R-right?”
Jungkook loses it.
He fucking loses his mind.
Hastly, he leans over and grabs your tits. He fucks himself into you more and more, while biting your ear and kissing your neck. You moan and whimper, watching how hot it all looks on camera. Jungkook then rides his orgasm, not leaving you behind. He takes his phone from your hands and begins to film himself fucking you. The camera captures his dick going in and out of your pussy. How your ass bounces each time it hits his pelvis. It captures his breathy moans and his hushed, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“J-Jungkook—I’m gonna cum! Oh my god, oh my god.”
And you do.
You cream his dick. As he pulls in and out of you, the camera catches your creamy release on his dick.
It doesn’t take much after that. He isn’t sure if it’s just the heat of the moment or the fact that your brain is all fucked out by now—it doesn’t matter. The words that escaped your lips were enough. Jungkook cums hard and loud. He groans, hissing as he spills himself. You gasp when you feel his cock pull out of you harshly. Jungkook slips his one hand under you and flips you on your back. As you lay there, you watch as he pumps himself. He then aims his squirts of cum at your tits, and films as they land over your nipples. His breath is shakey from the relief and tiresome act and yours is the same. Except, you can’t help but let out a lewd giggle.
Holy fuck, this was such a workout.
Like earlier, you take your finger and swipe some of his cum off your breast. Bringing it to your lips, you lick it and smile sweetly at him. He chuckles as he films it and you laugh. Really, you laugh for real. Then he laughs and offers you high-5.
You laugh even harder, especially as you recall this being your reward. Even though it’s childish, you accept his gesture and feel special. Slamming your hand onto his, you lock them together and tug him towards you. He ends the recording just before he collapses on you.
After all that, finally, you two share a kiss.
A deep, soft, and much-needed kiss.
The addiction to you was no different than an adrenaline junkie getting ready to jump off a cliff. No, there was no turning back.
Your lips were addictive. The sweetness of everything your body would give him—it was like a fucking reward. Every saliva exchange, every drip from your pussy, to every tear shed while he digs himself deeper and deeper into you… He wants them all.
As sick as it sounds, he’d lick it all up just to have you in him even more. Just to be close to you. Just to be closer.
Every inch of you, he wants to devour.
Like a starved man, he’d fall to his knees and beg for an ounce of kindness. A chance to satisfy you—a simple kiss, deepened by the second. Hands intertwined as you spread your legs for him as he places himself in between.
As he leans his forehead against yours, he sneaks in a few pecks. “I can’t believe we have a sex tape.”
You roll your eyes. “Perv.”
“You consented,” he sings happily. “Do you want me to delete it?”
You shake your head as he makes himself comfortable. “No… Send it to me later though. I miss you sometimes too.”
A hearty chuckle escapes his lips as he snuggles into your embrace. You wrap your arms around him. Jungkook digs his face into his favourite spot—aside from your pussy—the cook of your neck.
Sometimes.
You miss him sometimes?
That’s a funny way of saying always.
The muffled sound of music blasting downstairs and people chatting becomes evident. Yet, you two stay silent. Laying together, fingers and legs intertwined. Naked.
When was it ever this easy? Why did this feel so right? Being with Jungkook has never been difficult—but when was it like this? When did things change? The sudden realization of the words you said while you two were intimate hit you. Were you really his girl? Did you want to be? Would he accept you if you asked?
Not only that but—when did you… When has it…
When did this begin?
These feelings.
There’s a tightness in your chest you can’t explain. Something that has been around for a while now. Long enough that you don’t remember when it first occurred and began to glow whenever he was around. What the fuck is up with that?
As he fucked you tonight, that’s all you felt. Your heart was glowing. The closeness with him—regardless of how nasty—it was so special. It felt so good and like nothing you’ve ever felt. As you trace random things on his back with your nails, you hear him murmur, “mhmm… Yup. I love it when you do this, ___.”
It startles you.
When did you begin doing this? Being so intimate with him? Scratching his back, drawing hearts with your fingernails… When did this all happen? He says it like this isn’t the first time you’ve done it. Then, it gets hot. Suddenly, you notice how sweaty you two are and how it’s way too comfortable in his bed with him. You sit yourself up, causing him to follow.
“I’m glad you came.”
“Pun intended?”
Jungkook pinches your cheeks and presses a kiss on your nose. “Whatever you want.”
You shove him away and get up from his bed. At least, you attempt to.
Your legs feel shaky. He quickly holds you by the waist and catches your stumble. Looking up at him, you huff. “Look at what you did!”
“What?” he panics.
“Jungkook, I can’t fucking walk!” You begin to freak out. “How am I supposed to go downstairs and act normal? Yuna is gonna ask so many questions and—”
“Relax,” Jungkook sets you down on his bed. “I got you.”
You sit and pout as he heads to his bathroom. When he returns, he has a black shirt and pants on. He holds a damp towel and collects your clothes off the floor. Jungkook kneels in front of you and begins to pat wipe your sweaty skin. First, your forehead, neck, and then he uses a face towel to wipe his cum off your breast. Then, he continues to pat dry your arms and in between your legs.
Without exchanging words, he helps dress you. The entire time, he was careful and used a soft tone whenever he did speak. For the most part, he just looked at you lovingly. That look in his eyes… You know in your heart you will never forget.
When you’re all dressed, a good enough time has passed for you to recover. Not fully, but just enough. Jungkook helps you get up and you hiss at the initial soreness.
“Round two?”
You hit his chest and roll your eyes. “You’re fucking insane, you know that?”
“Insanely hot?”
“Whatever you want.”
He isn’t sure what to do.
You laugh it off, but he doesn’t. He can’t. He doesn’t know how. As you two look into each other's eyes, he feels his heart race.
He should just say it, right? It’s easy.
Spit it out.
___, do you want to go out with me?
Or should he do a whole confession?
___, we’ve been doing this for a while now… And I think I’ve grown an unhealthy attachment to you. I miss you when I’m not with you. When I’m with you, I never want the moment to end. Being close to you has to be my favourite part of living.
But when he opens his mouth to speak—
“Should we go downstairs? I need water.”
He blinks.
“Y-yeah,” Jungkook reaches for the door. Then, as he turns the door knob, he stops himself. “One more kiss, please.”
Without a fight, you tiptoe and kiss him. Smiling into the kiss, he leans more into it and gropes your ass. You hit his chest playfully, signaling him to pull away. With great sadness, he does so.
“I’ll go out first.”
Your words cut him deeper than a knife.
Right.
You two aren’t dating.
You two are just fucking—in secret, at that.
“Why can’t we leave together?” he asks, sounding a little desperate. “You said it yourself. You don’t really care if people know or not… I doubt anyone will even care.”
Shrugging, you nod. “Sure,” you answer him. “I’m not trying to hide us or anything… I just don’t really want to be questioned… But, considering I can’t really walk right now…”
He laughs, feeling like he saved himself from sadness.
“Can we hold hands?”
You give him a face. “Don’t push it.”
“But you said—”
“I was drunk!”
Jungkook laughs, as he opens the door. Stepping out together, he locks his bedroom door as you continue bantering. Pushing past everyone in the hall, he can’t help but feel a sense of relief.
It was a small thing. Leaving the room together and even suggesting to hold hands—it was a long shot but here he was.
With you.
Lingering fingertips and all.
As you two head down the stairs, you’re immediately greeted by the smell of alcohol and sweaty bodies. Jungkook leans into your ear and whispers, “ahh… See? We’re blending right in.”
He’s talking about smelling like sweaty sex.
You bring your hands to your face, covering yourself and the shyness that rushes to your cheeks. He laughs and you hit his chest for the nth time tonight.
“Why are you covering your face? It’s like I didn’t just see you naked. Like I didn’t fuck you—”
“Oh my god!” you cover his mouth and look around to see if anyone heard what he said so bluntly. “I know I said I don’t care if people knew but can you relax? Don’t be so proud you fucked me.”
“Why shouldn’t I be?” Jungkook says sincerely. “Do you have any idea how admired you are?”
“So I’m a prize?” you laugh. “What a joke.”
Jungkook gawks at you.
“Do you have any idea how hard I’d try to win you if this was the fucking hunger games? I’d die for you.”
You snort. “Did you even read the series—”
“No,” he snickers. “But you get what I mean, right?”
“Not really…” you trail, turning your head in an attempt to avoid eye contact. You aren’t too sure where this conversation was heading and perhaps you aren’t ready for whatever he has to say next. “Can we—”
“I won’t get all gushy and all because you’re going to get all self-conscious and then retort by saying I have post-sex feelings—but just know you’re it. The standard. A prize. Endgame.. All of it. You’re it.”
Too stunned to speak, your lips curve into a small smile. “Jungkook—”
“___!”
You and Jungkook turn your heads and see Yuna approaching with Taehyung. She smiles brightly, practically throwing herself at you. You catch her, hug her, and tilt your head in confusion as Taehyung whispers something in Jungkook’s ear.
Jungkook lowers his gaze at you, gulping as Taehyung finishes his exchange and steps away. Then, Taehyung offers you a short lived smile.
“Hey, ___. How are you?” Taehyung’s voice is calm and sweet… It’s so opposite from how suspicious he’s acting.
“Good…” you say with your eyebrow raised. “What’s going on?”
Yuna tugs on your arm. “Nothing!” She sneers at Taehyung and gives him a warning look. “Way to be discrete.”
“You said to follow your lead! You aren’t doing much so I—”
“You’re the worst partner in crime ever!” Yuna scolds him.
You shake your head at the two, feeling at home with their bickering. Taehyung and Yuna act like such a married couple most of the time they’re together—you were used to it at this point. In between their bickering, you glance at Jungkook who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you.
For some reason, you can’t make out what the look on his face is. He didn’t look happy, but he didn’t look sad either. He wasn’t angry… He looked… Eager? Worried? In agony?
“You okay?” you ask, moving away from Yuna and to Jungkook’s side. He slides his arms around your waist. You let him.
Pulling you close, his lips shape into a pout. You cup his cheeks and squish them together. “Jungkook?”
“Wanna go back upstairs?” he suggests, resting his face on the palm of your hands. “Wanna get out of here? I’m suddenly not in the mood.”
“To what? Party?”
“To be anywhere without you.”
“But I’m here.” You reason.
He shakes his head, insisting something else. “But not you’re here with me… You know?”
You do know.
“S-sure,” you agree even though a part of you feels hesitant. Not that you don’t want too.. More like you’re nervous and afraid of what it’ll lead to. More feelings? More sex? You don’t think you can go another round. “Where should we—”
“___ baby!”
Your head turns to your name being called by a familiar voice.
From the corner of your eyes, you see Taehyung and Yuna exchange disappointed looks. Just as you’re about to ask what’s going on, Seokjin and Eunwoo approach you.
“Eunwoo,” you greet warmly. You step away from Jungkook and hug him.
“You haven’t been answering my texts… Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you,” he whines like a child. You laugh lightly and tiptoe to ruffle his hair. Though it’s only been a few months, he hasn’t changed. He still acts like a lost puppy. “Jungkook, what’s up?”
Jungkook dabs Eunwoo up with low effort. You give him a confused look, wondering why he was acting all sulky all of the sudden. From what you recall, these two are friends. As Eunwoo greets Yuna and Taehyung, Seokjin greets you rather drunkenly. Then, he excuses himself to piss. Everyone rolls their eyes at his behaviour but let him do what he needs to.
“Can we talk?” Eunwoo asks bluntly. His question breaks the ice, but wins a wide-eyes from you all.
You tilt your head. “What about?”
“Us.”
Instantly, Jungkook feels like he’s being punched in the face. No, he wishes he was being punched in the face. Being punched in the face would be more enjoyable than standing here in between you and Eunwoo.
He has only tried a handful of times to ask and understand what happened between you and Eunwoo, but he never pressed it. Right now, he wishes he had. If he had, maybe he wouldn’t feel so threatened right now. But he didn’t and he does. Jungkook clenches his jaw, trying his best to mask his feelings.
Was there still something between you and Eunwoo? Were you still texting him? Is Eunwoo who you’re with when you’re not with him?
All these thoughts and self-doubt flood Jungkook’s mind.
It sinks and his insecurities make a home as you nod politely and follow Eunwoo away from the crowd. Away from him.
Not even a goodbye?
As you slip away, Jungkook sighs. How did you do that? He feels disappointed and hurt—offended even. How dare you pick someone else over him? Though no feelings between you two were expressed or exchanged in a way where commitment and exclusivity would be the trade-off—still, this wasn’t fair.
How could you walk away? Like it was easy? Like you weren’t just with him seconds ago?
It aches.
It hurts so bad that it even his anger is weak.
No matter how much he wants to—he can’t blame you.
He never asked you out.
“I like the way you look at her,” Yuna comforts Jungkook by patting his back.
“Huh?” Jungkook snaps out of his thoughts. “What do you mean? Look at who?”
Yuna nudges him and gives him a ‘you’ve got to be kidding me,’ look. Then, she explains herself. “I always knew you were nice. Taehyung talks about the shit you put up with and the things you do to please people… Like how you joined the team again after they begged you to even though you felt burnt out… How you always limit your drinking so you’re sober enough to walk ___ home. How you come over and take care of her when she’s piss drunk and probably gave you a hard time—”
Jungkook’s eyes get shifty. “How do you know about that—”
“Doesn’t matter. She didn’t tell me shit, though. She doesn’t know I know and we’re going to keep it that way.” Yuna pokes Jungkook’s chest.
He furrows his brows. “Why does everything have to be a secret when it comes to ___?”
Yuna doesn’t have an answer for him. Instead, she continues her little speech.
“You’re a nice guy… But to ___, you’re kind. It’s in your gaze. It’s in the way you always offer yourself to her. It’s in the way you’re her friend above all else—I’m so thankful you’re who you are when you’re with her. You look at her like she’s your entire world… I don’t know if you even know that—but that’s how you look at her. You look at her and it’s… It’s like she’s the only person in the world.”
Jungkook hates the words Yuna speaks. Partly because they’re all true and partly because he doesn’t know what to do after. Yuna squeezes his shoulders and he feels like he could cry.
“Can you tell her I’ll be in my room? Waiting for her?” Jungkook pleas.
Yuna nods and excuses herself to find you in the crowd. You’re throwing your head back, laughing at whatever Eunwoo whispered in your ear. When Yuna approaches you and passes the message, you find Jungkook’s eyes from across the room.
You smile at him and wave.
He stands still, not knowing what to do. Before you know it, you watch him pick up his feet and head back upstairs. He doesn’t look back.
Yuna did tell you he’d be in his room… So that’s probably where he’s headed. In your mind, you make a mental note to go upstairs and figure things out with Jungkook in ten minutes.
You’ll give Eunwoo ten more minutes... The rest of the night can be for Jungkook.
Upstairs, Jungkook sits on the edge of his messy bed. Knees to his chest, he thinks about how fucked up everything got in a matter of moments. Did it really just take one conversation with your ex to lose you as quickly as he got you? Is this the reality of being a fuckbuddy?
He hates it.
Jungkook clenches his fits, recalling the words Taehyung said to him.
“Eunwoo’s tryna get back together with ___… I don’t know why it’s so important to Yuna but she said she tried to talk him out of it. Yuna said to get ___ out of here? Again, I don’t know why… I thought Eunwoo was Yuna’s favourite for ___ but I’m guessing not anymore…”
It was comforting to know that Yuna was on Jungkook’s side… But did it matter if you weren’t? You’re downstairs, talking and probably making plans to get back together with your ex.
Meanwhile, Jungkook sits in his room and waits until his eyes betray him. They flutter shut, falling asleep to the faint sound of your laugh downstairs and to the hope of you fulfilling a promise you never made.
In the morning, Jungkook wakes up and cries. He cries out of frustration and hurt. His heart feels heavy, like it could collapse and be broken. He has never felt so betrayed before.
And it’s pathetic because even then—especially then—he still waits for you.
#bts fic#bts smut#jungkook smut#jk x yn#jk smut#jk angst#jk uni au#bts uni au#bts x yn#bts scenario#jungkook scenario
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