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bonny-kookoo · 2 days

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Jungkook

Princess | Limits [Final]

There's only so much he can take.

Tags/Warnings: Wolfdog Hybrid!Jungkook, Showdog Hybrid!Reader, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Fluff?, Brat!Reader, Jungkook has major brat tamer energy, misunderstanding, smut, (slightly) mean Dom kook, a slap to the thigh, uh, knot is mentioned, it's nasty, unprotected but MC is mentioned to be on birth control, he holds her by the throat? Idk he also has his fingers in her mouth-

Length: 5k Words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

A/N: This will act as a final chapter. The main story is therefore wrapped up- but as always, if you want drabbles, you can still request them.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jungkook has never understood the phrase of your ‘heart stopping’- because how could it ever? You’d be dead in that case. But right in this moment, he finally gains the knowledge by experiencing it first hand- eyes wide open and body frozen.

Why are you in his bed? Barely dressed, snuggled up to him who’s only in his underwear?

He thinks through the whole process of yesterday to make sense of this. Did you both get potentially drunk last night? No, not at all. You and him had simply packed your things to drive you to your parents hours away, after having contacted them and told them about everything. He remembers driving you there himself, unloading your bags, leaving you there after waving and driving off. And added to that, that was not last night. It was almost an entire week ago.

He hasn’t seen you in days. So what are you doing here?

It’s not a dream either, clock on his nightstand ticking away, world outside going about its day as the window isn’t all closed to let some fresh air in at night. And yet, you’re there- bare legs entangled with his, arms holding onto his.

He doesn’t really feel alarmed by the fact that you somehow entered his apartment- you know where he lives after all, and you know the passcode to his door, so it’s not really surprising at all. But what he is questioning is why you’re here- and why you’re in his bed, most of all. Has he forgotten some conversation you might’ve had? Or has something happened to make you so upset that you were craving the comfort of him at any cost?

Now he’s worried.

Shaking you a little to wake you up seems to not be very effective- because you just frown, slap his hand away and bury your face right back into his shoulder as if he’s nothing but an annoying fly. “I know you’re awake.” Jungkook tells you, and at that you actually open one of your eyes, looking up at him with your tail wagging beneath the covers. “What’re you doing here?” He asks, and you frown again turning onto your back to look up at him who’s sat up by now.

“Why do you sound so upset about that?” You complain with almost a pout in your tone, arms crossed. “I thought couples love reuniting.” You say, and he looks at you, confused.

“Couples?” He questions, and you nod, now visibly unsure as well.

“Well, yeah?” You say, attitude fading and being replaced by uncertainty. “I mean.. we haven’t said the L-word yet, but like.. I thought..” you start, scanning his face for any sign that he realizes what you believed you two were. “..since you uh.. called me baby in the car..” you drift off, and still- there’s no sign of anything on Jungkook’s face as he thinks, and digs around in his memories for the correct moment he might’ve said that. He did, maybe. But he doesn’t remember.

“did I?” He asks, and regrets it the moment he watches the shame visibly wash over you- from the way your ears pin back to the slight change in your gaze, he knows he fucked up by saying it loud- and he’s a little too late as you roll out the bed and run for the bathroom after picking something up from the floor, hiding away now. “hey- wait.” He asks, getting up to walk towards the bathroom floor, knocking on it just to not get an answer. “I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding-“ He starts, trying hard to calm you down- but it’s clearly not working as the door opens, and you slip right past him to run towards the door where your shoes are. “Hey no- stay, let’s talk-“

“Nuh-uh, nop, this is so embarrassing-“ You rant, visibly frustrated over the shoes not closing fast enough as your hands are too shaky to really tie them. So you just make a simple knot and stuff the laces into the corners, before a tattooed hand snatches your other shoe from you. “give that back!” You bark, not looking at him however as you reach for the shoe he’s holding too high for you. “stop-“

“stop, exactly. Don’t run off now, I’m sorry if I said something that made you think we were more than we are.” He explains, and you visibly deflate at that, ears down low just like your tail. “let me get dressed, and we can talk, okay?” He asks again, and you just shrug.

He sighs as he puts down the shoe and leaves to tug a shirt and pants onto himself- before he realizes his mistake too late-

Door already slamming shut, your jacket the only thing you left at his place.

Fuck.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

He’s been knocking since forever it feels like- but even at his third visit today, you refuse to open the door.

You still got a week left in your apartment- but he knows from first hand experience that you got almost no furniture at all in there anymore, so this can’t be an option for you to sleep at. He doesn’t want you to be upset at him- and in hindsight, he really could’ve worded things a bit better, but he’s still new to this as much as you are. “please let me in.” He requests once more as he’s done so often today, sighing. “I missed you too, you know?” He tries this time around, and to be honest, that’s not even a lie.

Its odd how at first glance, he never thought he’d ever get along with you. But having you gone for almost an entire week, he really felt the way you’d somehow snuck into his heart- every task back to being mundane without you causing a little chaos in his daily life here and there.

“That’s a lie.” You say, door open just a crack to glare at him through.

“Its not.” He denies. “I just think we never actually talked about what we want to be- so I was surprised to just.. have you turn up out of nowhere in my bed.” He chuckles a little, and you just look down to the floor in shame.

“M’ sorry.” You apologize. “won’t happen again.”

“What if I want it to happen again?”

Your gaze snaps up at him at that, confused. “I was just a bit caught off guard, and honestly worried. Did something happen at your parent’s?” He wonders, and you sigh, opening the door to let him into the almost entirely unfurnished apartment- a pile of clothes and a blanket being the last items that were probably used as a makeshift resting spot for you today laying in the corner of the main living room. You sit down there, before letting yourself fall to the side as if exhausted, before you shrug, Jungkook sitting on the floor across from you. “it was.. I don’t know.” You admit. “I love them. And I was really super happy to see them again, and spend time there..” you explain, before you pull the blanket between your fingers to have something to hold onto while you stare into nothingness. “But it was.. really a lot.. I don’t know how to explain.”

“I guess that’s normal. You know, being overwhelmed with it.” Jungkook sympathizes. “I’m exhausted too after spending a day or two with my entire family-pack. Nothing to worry about.” He explains, and you just nod, still avoiding eye contact. “I think what’s important now then, is what we are to one another. You can’t just break into my apartment and sneak into my bed without formally asking me out, you know?” He jokes, but your glare is filled with embarrassment.

“Now I don’t want to anymore.” You huff, before you turn around- and at that, Jungkook feels an odd rush underneath his skull, fueled by your subtle and underlying confession in your words.

“You love me though, don’t you?” He asks, leaning in closer as he sits near you now, a hand on your shoulder. “all you need to do is say it.” He chuckles, as you curl up more into yourself as if that would hide you.

“And then what?” You huff. “You’ll-“

“I’ll say it back.” He cuts you off. “or I’ll say it first, it’s no issue. At this point it’s pretty obvious that I’m starting to fall in love with you.” He easily spills, and you freeze before you slowly unravel, turning to look at him over your shoulder with a face full of wonder.

“You are?” You ask hesitantly, and he smiles, before he nods.

“I am.” He responds, confirms his words and you sit up at that, facing him now. “are you?” He wonders, and you nod.

“I am.” You answer, and he laughs.

“See? Nothing to be scared of. Now come on, I’m not letting you sleep here.” He says, standing up with you to pick up your stuff-

Unaware of the absolute Rollercoaster he just signed himself up for.

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Jungkook did not know what he got into when basically confessing his growing feelings.

His mundane life is pretty much over at this point, with you always around and currently basically having moved in until you can figure out if this works or not. After all, you’re not used to living with someone else- and it’s clear that no matter what, you’re the opposite of an angel, still trying your tricks on him to make him dance around like you want him to.

But Jungkook isn’t this easy to control. And in a way, it’s a little fun to see how much you can get away with.

“Jesus christ, put some clothes on.!” Jungkook curses as be spots you laying on your stomach on his couch, in nothing but a simple top and underwear, tail wagging. The wolf hybrid has to turn away, distract himself with the task of turning the volume of the TV lower, while you just don’t understand what his fussing is all about, game on your little console in your hands on pause.

“Why?” You ask because of that, not sure why he’s being so overly dramatic in your opinion. It’s just your legs, maybe your butt. So?

“because- just put at least some pants on.”, he groans, and you roll your eyes, before you continue your game instead.

You’re not listening. And he’s not sure if it’s your character- or if you think his decreasing patience is funny to watch.

“Do I have to turn the wifi off to get your full attention?” jungkook asks a little irritated, and you shrug.

“Don’t care.” You respond, eyes on the little screen between your hands. “the game doesn’t need internet.”

Suddenly however, the console is taken out of your hands, as he saves your current progress, and puts it into the charging station near the TV. “Hey!” You complain, getting up now to rush towards him- and as he makes sure you can’t get to your precious game again, he notices that God fucking damn it, you’re not wearing a bra beneath this very flimsy shirt.

You’re really testing him.

“Put pants on.” He says, and you have the audacity to laugh.

“Nah.” You deny, stretching before you step away from him, walking towards the bedroom. “I’ll just take a na-“ you don’t get to say much else, as he suddenly tugs on your tail with just enough force to make it count- but nowhere near enough to hurt. “Hey!” You turn around instantly, just to be basically cornered by the wolf hybrid, who’s backing you into a wall in the living room.

“You’ve got a real smart mouth there.” He simply says, but it sounds like a threat almost-, a very specific kind of threat that makes your skin shiver. “But you tend to forget when to shut it, clearly.” He scoffs, as your back hits the wall, making you swallow your own saliva nervously.

But he can sense, smell, that this is affecting you not in the direction of fear- but something else entirely.

“You’re so lucky, you know?” He asks, somewhat- and you look at him with question. “I’m not usually patient like that.”

“What would you have done?” You ask, unable to really keep it in as you know that if you hesitate for just a second, you’ll never be able to say this out loud, ask for such things. You want them, but you’re also nervous, considering you’ve never actually gotten this far with anyone before. “Put me in timeout?” You almost challenge, tail beginning to sway a little with newfound confidence, when he just shrugs it off, and shakes his head.

“No.” He denies. “Brats like you need something that.. Lasts longer.” He words out, and at that, scenes manifest inside your head that make you visibly shy.

You’re not sure if he realized it yet, but a lot of the things you do, you do on full purpose. You like this game of push and pull, you think its exciting and fun- so you hope that with words like that, he means them as such, because that would mean that he’s both aware of the little game you’re playing, and also a willing participant in it.

You don’t want him to just feel like you’re made of porcelain, possibly breaking at the slightest touch.

“Such as?” You ask, and he leans in closer at that, almost unbearably so.

“fuck around and find out, Princess.”

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Turns out you can be sickeningly sweet almost when you really want to- currently happily laying on his stomach after helping him cook and wash the dishes after, awfully nice today and in a good mood.

It makes him wonder. Are you up to something? Or are you simply not who he thought you were? It would be just a slight bit disappointing, if he was to be honest- considering he’d actually grown quite fond of the idea of you with your ass spanked bright red, Jungkook basically having to work for your submission. But maybe you’re just all bark and no bite- just yapping around, nothing more than that.

Even that would be fine at this point, as long as he’s got you.

It’s when the male lead kisses the female love interest in the admittedly boring drama you both watch on TV, than he notices you staring at the scene. He’s notice too that at this point in time, one might think you would’ve kissed by now- but that’s not the case, neither of you seemingly brave enough to make that step towards the other. But it’s clear from the way you look at the scene in front of you with a shy sense of longing, that you want it- he just needs to find the perfect moment for it.

After all, he doesn’t just want to be any partner for you. He wants to be the one and only.

“I’m tired.” You yawn and stretch, arms above your head before you look at him. “can I get a goodnight-kiss?” You boldly ask, and Jungkook laughs, before he moves to basically lean over you entirely, hands pressing into the cushioning of the couch below you.

And then he finally leans in to peck your lips- or at least that was his intention. You chase after his lips and even move your hands to pull him back, making him act on instinct as he pushes them back, pins them down with his fingers around your wrists. But he has to admit, either the lip balm you’re using is sweet as honey, or he’s surely found the perfect person to kiss in you-

Because he doesn’t want to stop either.

“You said you’re tired.” He hums in when you break apart for just a second, and you shake your head.

“not anymore.” You deny his claims, making him chuckle.

“Not anymore?” He repeats, teasingly escaping your advances. You shake your head, as your legs move to rest around his waist, signals sent pretty clear to him as he watches you try and seduce him. “You’re right.. You’re clearly not yet tired.” He mumbles, as he leans down to kiss you again, letting himself be swept away by the moment, as you both just enjoy each other’s presence.

“Jungkook..” you whine impatiently, hips squirming around in search of any form of friction, while he just laughs under his breath.

“What do you want?” He asks. “this is our first time, after all. I don’t know what you like- or what you can handle.” He teases- though it’s clear that there’s an underlying truth to his words. This is indeed clearly going in a very obvious direction, and you feel warm inside knowing that he actually cares this much about your experience during this.

“I don’t know..” you admit. “I just.. always do it myself, so I don’t know.” You tell him, and he nods, accepting that as his kisses move to your neck, where he makes sure to leave his marks.

Because he wants you to be his, and his alone.

“how far do you want to go?” He asks, pausing his advances for a moment to look at you.

“All the way.” You tell him, and he nods.

“You sure?” He questions, and again, you nod- this time visibly serious.

“There’s no one I’d rather be with like that than you.” You say, and he soaks those words up like a sponge, before he leans back down to kiss you- softer now, more gentle, as if he’s savoring you and your open appreciation for him in this moment.

And he does. He really does.

And you know, through the softness of his touch and the slow and gentle manner in which he undresses you, that tonight, he’s going easy on you.

Tonight, he’s just going to show you real love.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Something clicked into place last night.

As if he’s finally committed himself to you, he’s relaxed, comfortable and most of all; confident. And you’re strangely excited about this new side of him, because it’s unbelievably entertaining to play around with him now that he’s not holding himself back any longer.

Youre currently all laughing, some friend’s of Jungkook’s having spotted him at the grocery store with you, eager to get to know the girl who made him catch feelings. And you’re having a lot of fun hearing some embarrassing facts about your now boyfriend- who’s also laughing along, despite being the butt of the joke. Even when you make jokes about him too he doesn’t seem bothered-

Until a hand finds the back of your neck, fingers pressing down a little to make sure you know he’s got a good grip on you. And like a cat grabbed by its weak spot, you freeze, one look at him making you almost cower in public as his dark eyes gaze down at you. “yeah- but I think we’ll better head home now.” Jungkook decides to his friends, casually smiling while he says goodbye to his friends. And even when his hand leaves you, you’re strangely affected- waiting for something to happen, as he calmly brings the groceries to the car.

You must’ve gotten away this time, since he seems pretty relaxed on the way back home. Good thing you were in public.

However, once back inside your now shared four walls, things take a turn again when, instead of helping him unpack the groceries, you lounge on his sofa- TV instantly turned on as you watch, and Jungkook makes sure to put everything where it belongs by himself.

Your punishment follows late- but you know when it’s time.

The TV is wordlessly turned off, but you stop mid-breath trying to complain about it, because the smile he sends you is none of pure kindness. He looks almost like a villain ready to move on with his sinister plans, as he approaches you. “You think it’s funny, don’t you?” He asks, and when you don’t reply, he clarifies further. “you love getting on my nerves.” He states, and you have the audacity to shrug.

“What’re you gonna do about it?”

That was definitely your last mistake made- challenging him, well aware of how he will potentially punish you.

He’s quick to grab at your hips, no matter how fast you’d wanted to dash off. His grip is tight and secure as he carries you unto the bedroom, where he closes the door with his foot, putting you down on the big mattress. And there you sit- waiting, not sure what his silence means.

“Early bedtime, huh?” You scoff, trying to appear unimpressed.

“Its what you make of it.” He however answers. “this is your last chance to get on my good side, Princess.”

“or what?” You ask with an attitude, still not believing in hit bite at all.

Jungkook sits down at that, back against the door, eyes reflecting a little in the darkness of the bedroom. He’s a wolf, deep down, even if he’s mixed- he’s got time, and patience, and he knows it. He’s well aware that after yesterday’s endeavors, you’ve been trying to ‘seduce’ him all day long- wanting more, wanting it again, because as you’d told him last night, you ‘can’t do it the same he does’. It’s normal, as a hybrid-

And as someone like you in particular, who craves everything pleasurable in life.

You’re still sitting there, waiting, adjusting your position a bit, squirming under his watchful eyes. You’re not sure what he’s aiming at here, but it makes you a little uncomfortable-

Mostly because you can feel the way your underwear is soaking up your arousal over this entire situation.

“Go to sleep, baby.” He tells you with fake gentleness in his voice. “it’s late, isn’t it?”

“I don’t want to sleep.” You respond, and he chuckles.

“I know.” He tells you.

“Jungkook..” you whine, hoping this will be enough to break him. “I’m sorry..” you admit, ears drooping low, as you look at your lap in shame.

But he’s not fooled.

“try again, princess.” He simply says. “I know you’re not sorry.”

Fuck. What else could you do to get him to crack?

Manipulating him into doing what you wanted him to has worked in the past, so it shouldn’t be this hard. And he’s already seen you naked yesterday, so you don’t have to have shame about what you do next- moving your legs to give him a bit of a teaser to your soiled underwear beneath your skirt, feet digging into the bed below as you try and get under his skin this way.

“…can you help me?” You wonder, noticing how his eyes were captured by the sight for just a second.

“I can.” He nods, getting up to walk over to you- and your tail wags, triumph yours to claim. It’s still so easy to make him dance around like a puppet on strings, because down the line, he’s just another guy who’s quickly caught up in his own lust-

His face is inches from yours, eyes piercing into yours as he still got that wolfish smirk on his lips.

“But I don’t want to.”

Wait- that’s not part of the script.

“do it yourself, puppy.” He laughs, opening the bedroom door. “You know how to-“

“No!” You call out, making him turn his head over his shoulder to look at you. “I want you!” You argue, making him laugh.

“too bad.” He denies, and at that you get up, one leg out of the bed already. “get back on the bed.” He demands, and you huff.

“so you really putting me in timeout?” You scoff, stepping out with the other leg as well.

“You want to act like a brat so I’ll treat you as such.” He explains. “get back on the bed until I’m done cooking.”

“No.” You deny, walking closer.

He says your name, low and clearly in a warning, but you don’t care.

It’s then that your world turns upside down for a second, before you’re thrown back onto the bouncing mattress. You can’t help the sound that escapes your lips at his display of strength over you, a hand still on your arm to push you down. “does pissing me off make you that horny?” He asks, almost in a demeaning tone. “gushing into your panties just because you’re getting on my nerves, huh?” He continues, and your tail still wags.

“Its funny.” You admit, giggling, when a hand slaps your inner thigh, skirt having risen up to cover basically nothing anymore. “ah-!” You call out in surprise, making him laugh.

“it is.” He agrees. “it’s funny how you think you can play me.”

The next second, he’s tugging your underwear off of you, strings of sticky arousal still trying to hold onto the soiled fabric for a good stretch before the piece of clothing is thrown somewhere. “gotta get you off to make you listen?” He asks, agitated, hand between your legs a complete contrast to the gentle way he’s helped you reach highest pleasure last night. “gotta fuck you stupid so you’re finally a good girl for once?” He questions, and you just nod, frantically, overwhelmed by the way he pushes two of his fingers in already, thumb rolling over your most sensitive spot.

“Please-“ you start, but he only laughs down at you.

“Please? That’s a new sound.” He mocks you. His ruthless acts down settle down at all however- instead, he takes his hand away from you, and wipes it on his pants. You’re left alone, watching him, unsure what’s happening. “You ready to listen?” He asks. What an asshole. He knows exactly that in your state you’d accept anything-

“Why did you stop?” You whine however, and your downfall has been sealed.

Only moments later, as you try and escape, he’s on top of you, using his entire body to cage you in, hand around your throat- though he’s gentle enough to not hurt you at all. The hold he has still arches your back, pushes your behind right into him. And considering the fact that you’re on birth control, he doesn’t need to search for any other contraceptive right now, able to just pull himself out of his cotton pants, not needing much to get himself ready.

You whine in complaint when he pushes in. He knows it’s a bluff.

“oh shut up.” He growls into the back of your neck. “You can take it.” He states, well aware that you can. And it seems like finally, you’re quiet and compliant- if only after his fingers press down on your tongue, occupying your mouth with something other than whining. “so this is what it needs to shut you up?” He mocks you. “my cock inside, and my fingers in your mouth?” He purrs against your neck, and you just whimper pathetically.

His pace is steady, but he doesn’t even need to move anymore he notices- you’re for once doing all the work for him, bouncing on his lap like you’ve done this a million times already.

Your stamina does however not match up with his, as your thighs quiver, orgasm approaching you and causing you to lose tempo. Something he catches up on- taking over as he rolls his hips into you with dancer’s precision, while you emit sounds of pleasure the second his digits leave your mouth. You fall forward once he lets go of you entirely, spent.

“I’m not done with you yet.” He however days, as he manhandles you onto your back beneath him, hands tugging on your legs to move them exactly where he wants them. “wants to be fucked stupid but can’t even keep up with me.” He teases, shaking his head as he pushes his length through your thighs, remnants of your own arousal making the movement easy and slick. Your hands reach out sleepily, fingers touching the very tip every time it appears between your legs, and you giggle, visibly out of your mind.

But he notices something else too.

You look entirely relaxed, not even a glimmer of any of your usual insecurities present. You’re just existing in the moment, enjoying this, enjoying what he offers you, and nothing else.

Your head must really just be TV static.

You open your legs again, whining once more as he watches you reach for his hips- one orgasm not enough still, or maybe you just want to please him the best you can. He’s going easy on you this time, he decides, complying with your wordless demand to get back inside you, a wish he happily grants.

You don’t hold back, only shutting up when he leans down to kiss you, needy and chaotic, tongue and bitten lips. But once his hand is between you both, pushing you over the edge alongside him, you squirm once more- his release spilling inside of you, something swelling that you didn’t feel yesterday.

It’s him. He’s locking himself inside you to make sure you don’t spill any of it.

Which isn’t all that easy, since he appears to be a but of an overachiever- some of it already escaping you the second he softens up, cunt pushing out the translucent white as he pulls out of you.

You’re a mess.

Clothes somewhat still on, skin sweaty, opening between hour legs still gaping, clenching around nothing as your body calms down.

But, to be fair-

You also, finally, shut your mouth.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

“You can be so gentle!” You complain as he helps you put lotion on your skin after your shower, already back to your old self not even a couple of hours after.

“I can.” He laughs.

“But something tells me that you like it rough.”

Oh-

How right he is.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook fanfic

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𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ Dad Sturniolo ; Matthew Sturniolo.

𖦹ׂ summary : Matt, you and your daughter are going to visit Jaz's uncles Nick and Chris.

𖦹ׂ author's note : My first language is not Spanish, if you notice any errors you already know why. Here is the masterlist in case you like to read more about Matt.

"Have everything?" You ask once inside the car, you look towards the back seats.

There was the small baby chair, Matt was buckling his daughter's seat belts.

"Yeah, Nick bought a ridiculous amount of stuff for Jaz anyway." That being said, he carefully closes the back door to walk in front of the car and get in, putting on his seat belt.

"Nick is very nice, but didn't you mention to him that it wasn't necessary?" Matt looks at you tiredly and then says: "Believe me, I told him, he just does what he wants."

He starts the car and they start the road to Nick's house, It has only been two years since the brothers have decided to live alone. A loneliness not so lonely.

They usually visit each other so often that it seems like they have never been apart, that made you happy, because you enjoy their happiness. Especially since Jaz came into their lives.

Nick has taken it upon himself to be the star uncle for her, Every time they visited him he did not let go of the little girl for even a second. He has even proposed making a special room for her in his house, of course, Matt has refused.

"Have you texted Chris?" Matt shakes his head in denial. "He'll be mad if you don't mention that we're going to Nick's house."

"Maybe Nick already told him."

"We should tell him anyway"

Matt sighs and nods. You take Matt's cell phone and make a video call with Chris who answered quickly.

"Hey! Are you in the car?" Chris had a cute smile that made him frown when he noticed where you were. "Is Jaz okay? Where are you going?"

"Hey Chris, she's fine" you show Jaz in her seat sleeping.

"Oh she's so sweet and tender little girl, Uncle Chris misses you so much girl" Chris had used a squeaky voice when saying those words. "Oh yeah, I bought him some toys on Amazon, there are seriously so many great things there, I want to see them so I can give them to him."

"Oh Chris it's not necessary, she has a lot of toys and she's not big enough to use them yet"

"But someday it will be"

You laugh and then Matt speaks.

"Hey, listen, we're on our way to Nick's house." You focus on your boy driving, Matt had his eyes on the road.

"What? And you're barely telling me, you know I'm two hours away from his house."

"That's not my problem"

"Don't worry Chris, we won't leave until you get there" you smile at him.

"Of course they won't leave, I'm going there right now"

They say goodbye and shortly after that they arrive at a gas station to use the bathroom and buy some things to eat.

Jaz had woken up and with the car parked you take her in your arms, she has woken up very active.

"Oh someone's in a good mood, You know we're going to your uncles, right, baby?" You talk to your baby and she smiles, showing her pretty gums.

Matt was next to you devouring a sandwich, He cuts a piece and brings it to your lips so you can eat. Then he opens a small package of cookies and offers one to Jaz who receives it with enthusiasm.

Matt is extremely attentive to her. He knows absolutely every one of her tastes, he has a unique connection with her.

"Hey, I think you're forgetting something." Matt tickles Jaz's tummy and she laughs. "Where is the kiss for dad?"

Jaz looks at him mesmerized and then laughs, shaking her head as she bites into the cookie with her only two teeth.

"Won't you give it to me?" Matt pretended to be offended. "So Dad won't buy you any more cookies."

Jaz throws herself into Matt's arms and he hugs her with a lot of love, she kisses his cheek and makes Matt's heart explode with love.

"That is my girl" He smiles and begins the attack of kisses that he usually gives her, Jaz laughs at every kiss Matt gives her. She places her little hands on her dad's face and he smiles.

Jaz comes back into your arms, sits on your lap while you finish the sandwich. Your hand is still next to the baby's body when Matt takes it with the intention of annoying Jaz.

Every time Matt had a little approach towards you or physical contact, Jaz would get possessive and push Matt away from you.

At first Jaz doesn't notice her dad's hand on her mom's, but when she notices she pushes Matt's hand away.

Matt reaches for your hand again and Jaz pushes him away again, this time taking your hand.

"She doesn't want you to touch me Matthew" You scold him as you hold your daughter's hand.

"Come on Jaz" Matt smiles. "Wouldn't you like a little brother?" You roll your eyes at that.

Jaz nods excitedly, Matt approaches her and says: "then you must let me hold mom's hand, If you don't let me get close you won't have a little brother"

You open your mouth in surprise and lightly hit Matt's hand.

"Please I didn't say anything wrong, I'm talking about holding your hand" he laughs.

"Of course if you did"

Jaz returns to her chair, and they continue the trip to Nick's house. Once there, Nick receives them excitedly, of course all his attention was on Jaz. Playing with her and showing her all the things he bought her.

You and Matt were unpacking the last of your things when Chris arrived. Matt opens the door for him.

"Hello" Chris waves and walks straight past, he sees you and waves too, but his eyes are looking for someone else. "Where are you Jaz?" He hasn't even asked about Nick, you laugh and point to the living room.

Chris goes where you tell him and then you hear him scream followed by Jaz's laughter.

"The best uncle ever has arrived!"

Matt walks towards you and you smile at him.

"They have missed her"

"They saw her two days ago," Matt reminds you.

Then Chris comes in with Jaz in his arms, he looked so cute with her.

"You can tell him to stop calling himself 'the best uncle' because that sucks," Nick mentions while pointing at his brother.

"Okay I won't say I'm the best uncle, I'll say I'm Jaz's favorite uncle." Chris responds and Nick shakes his head in denial.

"You're not, he has another uncle here" it is marked.

"Hey Little girl " Chris takes Jaz's little hand in his, drawing her attention. "Who is your favorite uncle? Uncle Nick?" Chris turns to Nick, Jaz looks at him and Nick makes a cute expression to make her laugh, but she doesn't.

"Hey just now it was just the two of us" Nick complains.

"Or your uncle Chris?" Jaz looks at Chris and then remains silent.

"You must answer girl, and you say say that your cute Uncle Nick" Nick walks up to Jaz.

Jaz looks at both guys, but then... "Pa" looks at Matt and stretches his arms in his direction.

"Your dad doesn't count," Nick complains.

Chris walks over to Matt to take Jaz into his arms. She clings to him and Matt feels like a winner.

"She really hates you so much that she didn't even want to choose one of you, you suck."

"Hey, you know she prefers me" Chris smiles satisfied.

"She hasn't responded"

"Because she doesn't know how to talk at all yet," Chris reproaches.

You laughed at the uncles fighting over who was your daughter's favorite, but your heart was so warm from seeing Matt cradle Jaz in his arms. He looked so cute with her, you were so happy to have a little family with him. You wouldn't change it for anything.

𖦹ׂ author's note : Thanks for reading, remember to leave your like and a comment. If you want to be part of the taglist, leave a comment below to add yourself.

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𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (4)

ten years of being one and the same with jungkook as the country's it couple is the perfect disguise for the reality of a tumultuous relationship hidden behind the scenes.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: a party at the notorious hotel azure, the hot-spot for the top names of south korea's entertainment industry, goes awry. in front of everyone, your relationship reaches it's breaking point - except, it doesn't. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: idol!jungkook/female idol!reader and fictional versions of various idols 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. idol au, on-and-off relationship, angst, i swear there's fluff, fake dating, and themes of first love, growing up, struggles with fame, and marriage (ish) 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. portrayal of a toxic couple (implications of emotional abuse and control), both main characters are very flawed, violence, infidelity, foul language, substance use (illegal drugs) 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. based off of "you're losing me" by taylor swift. this is a fictional portrayal of real-life people that implement some aspects of real-life events. extra warning for heavy substance abuse in this chapter - the usage of this is not meant to be glamourized in any way. i don't want anyone to get the wrong idea, so please note the underlying commentary on idol life and substance use. as someone who has been diagnosed with substance use disorder, i encourage learning about its complexities and ending stigma around it. there is also a quick note at the end of the chapter regarding its ending. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤjoin the taglist here! ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤm.list | previous | next

you might just have dealt the final blow stop, you’re losin’ me

TOP HEADLINE TODAY: big hit entertainment releases a trailer on official youtube channel, announcing bts’ upcoming world tourㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤapril 2018

two years made a night and day difference in your relationship. after the highs and lows that brought several short-term breakups, 2018 was supposed to be your and jungkook’s year. it was a fresh start and the turn of your early twenties was the world at your fingertips. young, beautiful and wealthy - it was a dream for any idol in south korea.

a fresh start wasn’t always easy when skeletons lurked in your closet, though. watching your boyfriend pace back and forth in his kitchen, a glass of whiskey on the rocks at hand, jungkook looked completely different. you weren’t sure if you’d finally snapped out of the daze that framed him as a teenager, bursting with energy, but things hadn’t been the same in a long time.

“yeah, y/n is coming with me,” you heard him say, your ears perking up at the sound of your name. it was hard to read his tone, but something told you that the person on the other end was surprised at his statement.

he finally noticed that you walked into the room, having finished slipping on your coat. jungkook sighed, tilting back the last of his drink and telling the person on the phone that he had to go. his furrowed eyebrows were telling enough that he was annoyed with you.

“what? i only took an hour,” you said, walking over from the doorway of his bathroom.

jungkook rolled his eyes. “an hour after the party started. let’s get going, the boys said they’re waiting for us,” he complained. “you’re the one who insisted on coming with me, anyway.”

at that, you didn’t say anything because you knew it would only escalate into an argument. jungkook had been recently accusing you of being overly controlling when it came to hanging out with his friends, which led to an invite to tonight’s party to be extended to you, as well.

however, parties at places like hotel azure were now a routine for you and jungkook, which was one of the only things that was constant against change in the past two years. with fame came notoriety and after clawing your way up the social ladder amongst the country’s musical elite, invitations to galas and lounges and the vip section of the club came left and right. everyone now knew you as one of the idol power couples behind the curtain and your respective presences were expected at events.

a molasses-like tension sat in the air when it came to this. although you and jungkook were known as one, it wasn’t easy to ignore jungkook’s individual stardom that garnered mass attention. his biggest supporter, you loved this for him - until you didn’t. he would jet off to tokyo and shanghai to party with a-listers and meet new people everywhere he went. he was rising before your very eyes and you couldn’t help but feel left behind.

“did you not tell them we got back together?” you suddenly asked, trailing out the front door with an impatient jungkook.

he only shrugged. it was hard to keep up when you and jungkook had taken several sporadic “breaks” over the last year. as a couple, you showed your best and smiled in front of everyone. however, your friends were the ones who would witness arguments in the corner of the room or furious frenzies of text arguments whilst working.

it was hard to manage a relationship that was akin to a fire - passionate, but ready to set ablaze at all times.

you weren’t sure how you and jungkook got to this point. you were no longer kids who only had each other. it could’ve been so many things - age, fame, money. there were other underlying issues that came with all these things. after all, by the time you were sat in the car, the first flask was already finished between you and him.

the drive to hotel azure was a blur and before you knew it, you were taking shots with kim yoojung and suzy in the penthouse suite. jungkook had walked away with his friends upon entering the party and it was already a lost idea to find him. you exchanged few words on the way to the venue, as he seemed to still be frustrated with you for a variety of reasons.

besides, it was a jackson wang party. the suite was filled to the brim with the who’s who of the entertainment industry, all mingling and dancing in an exalted existence that only celebrities enjoyed. others were outside at the rooftop pool, basking in the first of the year’s warm air. there were too many things going on at once.

the only warmth you were concerned with was the hot sensation spreading throughout your body from hennessy. “how’s the filming of your new show?” you asked suzy, who was now flushed from the round of drinks.

“exhausting. how’s the recording of your new album?” she sighed.

“exhausting.”

a murmur of agreement ensued. that was why everyone was gathering - an escape from the fastlane of their lives. the industry was draining and every forced smile for the cameras only weighed heavier on someone.

“that nct member your boyfriend is friends with was passing out xans,” warned yoojung, poking your side.

a year ago, you would have made a scene. now jaded and long given up on trying to knock some sense into him, you peeked over yoojung’s shoulder to check out the hallway ahead. turning back to the other two women, you already made up your mind.

“the bathroom over there is free,” was all you had to say and with you swiping your clutch off the counter, they knew what you were thinking. they knew what was in its contents.

you had to - it was a jackson wang party. ironically, you were never able to recall actually seeing jackson at his parties. really, you weren’t able to recall much in general the day after for certain reasons and tomorrow was looking no different when you busted out of the bathroom minutes later, giggling and brushing off your clothes. at the very least, you knew that you weren’t looking out of place, especially if what yoojung said was true. everyone in the room could afford the best to use, so why wouldn’t they?

“we should go to the pool!”

it didn’t take much convincing for you to be dragged outside, as the high was settling in and you suddenly became a social butterfly. the three of you arrived poolside, where you were greeted by more of your peers. you wouldn’t call them your friends.

the exception was jimin, who you were surprised to see. he was very amicable and well-liked amongst social circles, but wild parties were never quite his scene. some of jungkook’s group mates had an affinity for nights out, but you and jungkook attended a specific genre of parties that the others didn’t vibe with on the regular.

you smiled a little too wide. “jimin!”

the group you approached sat poolside on a couch, as jimin scooted over to make room for. you barely fit, but he made sure to make it work for one of his best friends’ girlfriend. stumbling a bit when you squeezed past others’ knees, he offered his arm to help steady you.

“hey, y/n. jungkook went somewhere else?” he asked slowly, examining your face.

jimin had a beer in his hand and appeared significantly more sober than the other partygoers, who were now immersed back into their previous conversation after your arrival. suzy and yoojung were laughing with the others, probably now too high and drunk to even remember that they walked over with you. meanwhile, jimin had his jacket on, as if he was right about to leave until you came outside. his mind was changed when he saw how wasted you were.

you looked around, hoping the fresh air would help you focus. “mmm, yeah. think he’s with jaehyun.”

it didn’t. it also felt like hours since you last spotted your boyfriend, but you were having fun. however, that wasn’t what jimin was concerned about.

“you’re doing okay?” jimin questioned, a frown tugging at his lips.

if it wasn’t someone like jimin who knew you well, it wouldn’t be so obvious that you were now quite inebriated. your giggles were a little too loud and you would never stumble in high heels sober.

when you didn’t answer, jimin finished the last of his drink and set it on the table in front of you before standing up. there was a glint of worry in his eyes.

he said, “stay right there. i’m going to get you some water and find jungkook.”

truthfully, you didn’t want him to locate your boyfriend, but jimin was already off. you huffed some hair out of your face. you didn’t think you were in that bad of a shape.

now that there was room on the couch, you were able to move over. when jimin left, you noticed that the girl next to you was watching the interaction the entire time. she was young and the doe-like expression on her face read that this was her first time at hotel azure. she was dressed to the nines and carried herself with energy.

“hi, you’re nova!” it was more of an exclaimation than a question, when she smiled at you.

your mood dampened at this. you did not have time to be entertaining whatever lucky rookie idol she was, probably scoring a luky invite. you also despised being called your stage name when you weren’t in front of a camera or fans. however, you put on your best plastered on smile.

“hi. you are?” you asked, wanting to try to be polite.

she ignored it. “wow, so it’s true then?” she asked. “you’re dating jungkook! and you were just talking to jimin, you must be so close with all of bts!”

it was like an immediate headache onset, as you tried not to wince at her nearly screaming into your ear. the music was loud, but not that loud. at least she acknowledged you first, some people often went all in by just talking about jungkook. you would have engaged in actual conversation with her if she didn’t ignore your first attempt.

“y/n, try this!”

a red solo cup was pushed in front of your face and you didn’t think twice about taking a sip. anything to not hear the girl drone on about your boyfriend. it was sour and medicinal at the same time, causing you to make a face. the actor who passed it to you chuckled, as you gave it back.

you coughed. “that was disgusting.”

for some reason, the smell of the drink alone made your head hurt. you mumbled an ‘excuse me’ at the young idol, who was still talking about bts the entire time that interaction with the drink happened, and got up. your legs were weak.

for a while, you were walking around with no purpose, observing those around you blankly. when the drinks and the drugs and the desire to fit in faded away, it was boring.

you wondered if you actually liked being at these parties or if you were there just because. the “just because” could have been anything - just because it was expected by your circle, just because it was the only way to let out steam from the demands of your job. maybe even. . .just because of jungkook.

“looking for your boyfriend?”

at some point, you wandered over to the shadowy corner of the rooftop, where someone was smoking a joint. you tried your best to recall his name, as you’d just been on a variety show with him, but the best you could do was remember that he was a member of winner. you winced at yet another mention of jungkook, but ignored it again.

he held the joint out as an offer and you accepted without hesitation, letting the smoke fill your insides. it was easy to ignore the burn in your throat when you’d already been putting random substances into your body since the night began.

“not really,” you admitted, though you did scan the crowd when you did.

he cocked an eyebrow. “oh? aren’t you two always hand in hand at these things?” he made a gesture, referring to the party as a whole.

a year or two ago, you would have spent the entire party on jungkook’s lap and exclusively mingled and drank from that same spot. as time went on and jungkook began attending parties and clubs without you, it was a growing occurrence that you began doing your own thing when you appeared with him.

“dunno,” was all you could say, not wanting to talk more about it.

it appeared that he got the hint, dropping the subject of jungkook. instead, he failed to hide the once over he made of your appearance and you fought a shiver. you felt like you were naked under his stare, as your skin-tight maxi dress didn’t leave much to the imagination. you never felt unsafe to wear what you wanted on a night out - albeit, your boyfriend was usually with you.

“you cold? want my jacket, sweetie?” he asked, sugar lacing every one of his words.

that’s when you became alert, despite your body’s lack of sobriety working against you. he had taken a half-step towards you and you instantly stepped backwards. you’d never been so uncomfortable, but it was a struggle to steady yourself.

you mustered up some solidity in your voice. “no. you can back up now,” you said, handing the joint back to him. “thanks.”

he didn’t get the hint. “then, do you wanna go inside with me? where’s it’s warmer?”

the smirk on his face sent off alarms in your head, as you continued to walk away, he still remained close to you when you did.

“i said i’m good. you’re getting weird, so back up,” you repeated, eyes darting around to see if anyone would step in.

instead, everyone was still lost in their own worlds. some people were laughing away, trashing the bar on the other end of the rooftop. the people you were with on the couch were taking shots. nobody was noticing the interaction between you and this man.

when he took a firm grip on your arm, you thought you were about to throw up. you noticed that you hadn’t even been walking straight and when you blinked, he was already in front of you. your words couldn’t find themselves when you saw double everywhere you turned. you were fucked and you couldn’t even defend yourself.

then, it happened.

when you jumped at the sound of a sudden impact, you thought that you were the one who fell down. but, there was no pain. there was a round of gasps. there was yelling. there was a body on the ground and it was the man’s.

“are you fucking crazy?! don’t you put your dirty ass hands on her ever again or i’ll kill you with my bare hands, asshole!”

the voice belonged to jungkook. it was the first time you’d seen him all night. he was standing over the man’s body, yelling further profanities at him. you saw red - both on his knuckles and in his bloodshot eyes.

you let out a scream when the man suddenly got to his feet, lunging at jungkook. this was when others ran in, straining to peel their two bodies away from each other.

people stopped to watch, but it was almost dystopian to see that some didn’t even care. they continued taking shots and smoking their joints. it was a daze of glimmer and drugs that only existed in the penthouse suite of hotel azure - where the rich and famous didn’t have time for scuffles.

“jungkook, stop!” you screeched, your voice cracking and tears welling up in your eyes.

it took three people to pull jungkook alone, as others also came to the rescue of the other man. jaehyun and yugyeom each clutched onto one of jungkook’s arms, while bambam stood between the two. it looked like they had all chased jungkook from inside the penthouse, who had slammed the sliding door open.

when jungkook picked up a glass beer bottle in his rage, you almost ran in yourself. he’d swatted jaehyun and yugyeom’s grips away to do so. thankfully, it was jimin who dashed in to swipe the object away from jungkook’s grasp, before the situation escalated to disastrous.

if jimin didn’t wrestle the weapon out of jungkook’s hands, it would have been detrimental beyond saving.

“you piece of shit!” snarled the man, who spat in jungkook’s direction. “your little girlfriend should know how much of a piece of shit you are, too!”

at that, you froze. jungkook only narrowed his eyes at him, as if daring him to continue. the next few moments didn’t seem real. his friends took the opportunity to take hold of him again, now with bambam joining in and trying to talk some sense into him.

“kook, calm down. seriously, you need to just - “

jungkook shot back, ignoring bambam. “you better shut your fucking mouth.” through gritted teeth, he kept urging for jaehyun and yugyeom to let go of him, which they thankfully didn’t.

he only chuckled and your heart dropped when he turned to you. “nah, you must already know he’s a piece of shit. you must be cool with that and with the fact that he’s fucking his backup dancer.”

what he said was loud and clear, but you didn’t even register it. you thought you were dreaming. you didn’t know what to do.

betrayal had a funny effect on people and on you, it was seething fury.

if you were sober, it would have been your turn to lunge at someone. you considered it and decided that it wasn’t a bad idea. taking off your heels and making strides towards the man, nobody expected you to clock the man right in the jaw. he yelped, stumbling backwards from the impact. in your state, you only just realized that you’d actually hit him with one of your shoes.

“that was for me, you creep,” you hissed, as he cussed loudly at his now bloody nose.

you even pondered pushing him into the pool, but decided it wasn’t worth it. the adrenaline in your veins - and whatever other substances were in there - wasn’t enough to distract you from the pit in your stomach from what the man said. something in you didn’t even consider the possibility of it being untrue - your gut told you otherwise.

you stared at jungkook, searching for any rebuttal. however, you knew the look on his face. it was the truth. not once did jungkook even try to dispute the accusation. your anger died down now and you were left feeling like you were floating. this couldn’t be real.

it was now jungkook’s turn to stand frozen. you didn’t have time for this or for him. even his friends were frozen and you didn’t know what emotions were on their faces. shocked, but at what? that he was cheating on you or that he just got exposed? reality was beginning to sink in and the only thing you knew was that you needed to get out of there. you thought you looked like the biggest joke in the world, whether his friends knew about it or not.

“what do you think you’re doing? go after her!”

that was jimin’s voice, horrified that his friend was just passively watching you run out of there. jungkook finally made a sprint for it. you’d pushed past several people and jungkook didn’t catch up to you until you reached the elevator.

your vision was waning and the source could have been either the situation or your body finally giving up on you from what you had consumed all night. you needed to sit down. hurriedly, you jammed the button to close the elevator door, but a hand stuck out to force it open.

jungkook was pleading. “y/n, just one second - “

“no, get away from me.”

“look, let’s talk! please!” he cried, trying to enter the elevator with you.

at this point, you were shoving him away. you didn’t care, you needed him out of your face before you began crying. he wasn’t fighting back at all, letting you continuously push him, but didn’t move an inch.

“you’re scum to me,” you growled, eventually giving up and tripped backwards from your own force.

the elevator closed and for thirteen long floors, it was just you and him in that one space.

“please, let’s communicate - isn’t that what you always wanted for us?” jungkook said and did his best to get you to meet his eyes. “bug, come o -”

the fire in your eyes was nothing like he’d ever seen before from you. “don’t you dare call me that ever again!”

bug was his special name for you, short for lovebug. you used to get upset when he would call you your full name over bug. in that moment, it sickened you to hear it.

everything began clicking in your head. the way he rarely called you when he was on tour. the slow buildup of disinterest in your wellbeing. going to places that he always went to without you. being secretive of what he was doing on his phone. this behaviour multiplied recently and with another world tour for bts lined up, you now knew why.

jungkook was living an entirely different life away from you. you just thought he would never have it in him. not the kind and sweet jungkook you met all those years ago.

you ripped off the tennis bracelet from your wrist, which jungkook had given you for your eighteenth birthday. a look of defeat rested on his face when you hurled it at him, which he didn’t even bother to dodge. he knew he deserved it.

the elevator dinged and you made a beeline for the first door you saw. you weren’t even running, but jungkook dashed to meet you there. you let out a cry of frustration when he stood right in front of you, blocking the entrance.

“move or you’ll regret it.”

he ignored you and you instead side-stepped away, using all your energy to exit through the next door before jungkook could realize. he tried blocking you again, but only caught a bit of your force because you were too fast.

the entire time this was happening, you’d been trying to dial someone, anyone. none of your group mates were answering. you didn’t have any friends that weren’t at the party upstairs. the last resort was your manager, who you were about to call, when jungkook stood in front of you again.

“y/n, please. i’ll get on my knees if i have to,” jungkook begged and you could see that he was fighting tears. “please, i just want to talk.”

however, you could also see that jungkook was far from sober. he was in a worse state than you were. a bruise was to soon form on his jaw and his hair was disheveled. it was the lowest you’d ever seen him.

for a split second, you tried. you wanted to try and see the boy you fell in love with all those years ago. you searched and searched.

“what? i’ve asked you for years to communicate in this relationship and it only becomes important after you cheat on me?”

jungkook knew he was defeated, but he still looked at you with those same pleading eyes. “i know i don’t deserve you - “

“i don’t even recognize you!” you interrupted. “i don’t even know who you are!”

both of you knew that you were right. something went wrong along the way. you were barefoot and exhausted, no longer with light in your eyes. jungkook was pitiful and lost - lost in his fame, in the parties, and from you.

that night at hotel azure should have been the end. the storybook fairytale should have been over. in that moment, you would have even moved as far as you could and ran away from the dread of the life you were living. you gave up that night.

unfortunately, in the craze of the night’s events and the substances swimming in your bodies, both you and jungkook forgot who and where you were.

TOP HEADLINE TODAY: breaking news! dispatch releases exclusive photos of bts’ jungkook and s.iren’s nova, reveals that they are dating

you’d been in the big hit company building countless of times over the years, but would have never imagined yourself sitting in their board room with their most senior executives. to make matters worse, several high-ranking representatives from your company sat in the same room, including your ceo and your own manager. at the head of the table were you and jungkook, both stone-faced and unable to look at each other.

entering the room, you considered yourself all alone. your manager was pissed off at you. your group mates hadn’t spoken to you since the news broke, except for sooah. she only warned you to make sure that nobody knew you were high when it happened. the last thing the group needed was an additional scandal where their main vocalist gets sentenced to prison for possession. and, of course, you now had no boyfriend. there was nobody there for you.

“they’ve been building evidence for a long time now, clearly.”

to make matters more humiliating, the company executives were broadcasting the dispatch article on the big screen in front of everyone. the head of public relations, mr. lee, swiped through each photo released like a slideshow.

the first picture was you and jungkook outside of your building complex. another was a sneaky shot that barely captured you and jungkook in the same taxi. it went on and on, until the last photo that depicted you and jungkook standing in front of hotel azure, which was less than twenty-four hours ago at this point.

after escaping the party and jungkook, you spent the rest of your night crying and throwing up at home. it was late when you left and you knew you couldn’t sleep a wink after what transpired. you tried your very best and it was seven in the morning when you thought your eyes were finally closing, until your phone began blowing up.

at first, it was just your manager and you didn’t want to hear about how she found out that you were partying late again. then, not even an hour after, your social media began blowing up with notifications.

i was trying to warn you, the last text from your manager read. you realized what she was talking about, as dispatch probably gave the “courtesy” to inform the company before the article went out.

you thought about your group members, feeling nothing but guilt. you saw what happened to other female idols, whose dating scandals tarnished their “sisterhood” with their members forever. you were terrified of that happening to you.

now, you sat in this suffocating board room, still hungover, and your entire future at stake. the only thing you felt regretful about was not just the impact of your choices on both your group members, but the rest of jungkook’s. they were one of the, if not the, most popular groups in the country.

while the room went over the pictures that were released, you were silent. you long understood the consequences of the relationship and accepted the risk. when the scandal actually broke, though, the fear you felt was unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. on the other hand, jungkook was only apologizing profusely and was in tears. you didn’t realize it until then, but there were also streams of tears running down your face.

you weren’t sure what the main reason for your tears were. something told you that you’d yet to process the grief of jungkook’s betrayal because sitting next to him felt numb. last night, only anger settled underneath your skin. now, being inches away from the man you called your best friend and partner for years, you felt nothing. it was almost an out-of-body experience.

the only way to not replay every single moment he was with her and not you, was to repress the grief. you pretended like it was invisible and out of reach. with that, you figured the tears were for the innocent third parties that were going to be dragged down by the scandal - the executives in the room, jungkook’s group, your group, all of them.

“quit crying! we have no choice, there’s too much evidence - we must publicly confirm the relationship.”

you took a deep breath. right now, you had yet to actually tell anyone that you and jungkook were no longer together. a part of you was too embarrassed to admit that you were cheated on. you also figured that word from the scene at the rooftop party likely already spread throughout social circles. you decided to swallow it down and finally say it aloud.

this was the first time that you spoke up. “but,” you started, “jungkook and i. . .we broke up last night.”

the last thing you expected was a round of laughter. you thought you were imagining it, but when you looked up, the board members were indeed doing so. you were suffering enough, but now you were getting laughed at. your fists were balled up underneath the table.

“are you kidding me?” mr. lee said. “i don’t care. years ago, you and jungkook agreed that, should your relationship be exposed, you would face the repercussions of its reception.”

“mr. lee - “ jungkook started, but was hushed by his company executives.

when mr. lee tapped on his laptop again and cut to the comments section of the article, you thought you would see hate comments. death threats, even. but, you were stunned to face waves of positivity.

the tone he used, though, was devoid of any. “oh, i love this couple so much,” mr. lee began reading the comments in a monotone voice that only made the situation feel even more of a joke. “wah. they. are. such. a. beautiful. couple. i’m not even mad.”

you swore your eyes were deceiving you. stealing your first glance at jungkook since walking into the room, he, too, was shocked and his jaw hung low.

“talk about a power couple, congratulations! here, someone said: hope this is true, nova is luckiest girl in the world - love this. then, a bunch of good luck’s, and blah, blah, blah.”

there was a wave of anger when most of the comments called you the lucky one and not once the other way around.

regardless, the reception of international fans was generally uplifting, which was no surprise to you. what really got to you was that it didn’t stop there - the screen scrolled past dozens and dozens of korean comments that exemplified full support towards the relationship. this was a true mark of positive reception, as they were the fans you feared the most.

as the years went on and jungkook rose in popularity, you became increasingly nervous about your relationship. you watched so many of your peers receive horrible backlash from fans after being exposed for dating, especially the women. being a female in the industry was hard enough and you weren’t sure if you were going to be one of the strong ones in this situation.

“so that your fans don’t feel ‘betrayed’, we are going to let the media know that you have been dating for a few months - don’t even think about telling people that you’ve been together since 2013,” mr. lee announced, which snapped you back to the conversation.

you dared to speak again. “mr. lee, jungkook and i have broken up,” you reiterated, wondering if nobody heard you the first time.

he rolled his eyes. “i understand. do you also understand that this reaction is basically unheard of? have you noticed that you’ve gained almost a million followers on instagram?”

this time, it was the public relations representative from big hit that cleared her throat and stood up. she joined mr. lee in front of the board members, who began murmuring in approval amongst themselves.

“jungkook. y/n. as you know, the love yourself world tour was just announced. s.irens is also preparing for a major comeback and potential tour. this relationship,” she said, “will be used to accelerate the successes of both of your groups.”

a chart appeared on the screen. it showed data from the last twenty-four hours, including both group’s increase in social media numbers, streams, and search engine hits.

“consider it an exchange for breaching your no-dating clause five years ago. until further notice, this relationship, at least in the eyes of the public, will remain.”

this had to be a joke. however, you remembered what you and jungkook were. you were idols. you were puppets of the machine that was the korean entertainment industry. chess pieces. no matter how rich or famous either of you got, it all boiled down to this.

the fame game was one that was never won.

jungkook said, slowly, “you’re asking us to date. . .as a publicity stunt?”

at this, you had no choice. a few individuals in the room, including jungkook, jumped when you shot up from your seat. you rose in order to bow at a ninety degree angle in front of all the senior executives, ignoring how sick you were to your stomach.

“please,” you began, eyes squeezed shut. “i want nothing to do with jeon jungkook.”

of course, the decision was already made and your pleas were dismissed. however, you didn’t see the way jungkook watched you beg your company to not force you in a relationship with a man you no longer loved. his mouth went dry and there’d never been such a moment in his life where he hated himself more. he did this. he pushed you to this point and he betrayed you.

from that moment on, jungkook saw this as an opportunity. he destroyed everything that you and he had ever built. now, the only thing he ever sought from this point on, was redemption.

even though your companies informed you two that you could publicly “breakup” following a year post-dispatch release, jeon jungkook never lost sight of the redemption he sought. they wanted you to be the so-called it couple of the industry and he decided he would do them one better and make it real. for the next year, jungkook would do everything in his power to win you back.

LATEST NEWS: bts’ jungkook and s.irens’ nova confirms their relationship! read more about big hit’s response: “they met as friends and the connection blossomed from there”

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. for clarity purposes (because i feel like the non-chronological format may get confusing), y/n and jungkook get back together during this publicity stunt and are 100% for real dating in chapter 1. the publicity stunt arc is covered in chapters 6-8, as the next chapter focuses on why/how their relationship began breaking down before the hotel azure incident.

#jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #kpop fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #jungkook angst #jungkook series #bts scenarios #bts imagine #bts x reader #bts au #bts series #bts angst

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spatialwave · 3 days

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“𝓼𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓪 𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓼𝓮, 𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝓪 𝓬𝓸𝔀𝓫𝓸𝔂”

pairing: pre-war cooper howard x fem!reader

word count: 938

summary: you’re cooper’s favourite cowgirl.

warnings: mdni! smut, porn w plot, affair/cheating, riding, cooper loves the view ;)

notes: two posts within 12 hours?? i am addicted 🫣

you’d met cooper on a film set working as a seamstress, your skilled hands sewing and tailoring the clothing he wore on the big screen. the two of you grew close as the weeks and months passed by, especially when his career took a turn for the worst when he started filming advertisements for vault-tec. it was unfortunate to watch him as his energy depleted, each day looking worse for wear as his passion vanished.

gossip spread like wildfire and you’d learned from a few girls in the makeup pertinent about his life at home and how he and his wife were going through a tough spot—a divorce. you couldn’t imagine the heartbreak

you were careful to bring up barb in conversation, the pain in his eyes taking forefront anytime her name was mentioned, but acting like it was no issue.

you were there for him as much as you could be, taking him for a hot cup of coffee once in a while in an attempt to bring some cheer into his life. to be a friend of cooper howard was a title you held near and dear to your heart, you hadn’t expected for it to get any farther than it did.

it all started one night when you two met for drinks—gin, whiskey, martinis and everything in between. it only took three drinks for cooper to spill his guts about barb. how she wasn’t who he thought she was, and that it was destroying their family.

he didn’t go into the gritty details, but you believed him and you were there for him. what was only a polite, reassuring touch on his shoulder had ignited a flame in both of you, eyes connecting when you shared the same thought.

an hour later you found yourself on your bed, with cooper’s tongue pressed against your wet arousal and your fingers tugging on his dark, greying hair. it became a regular occurrence, but you kept telling yourself that this was okay. it was okay because he was going through a divorce.

even if they were technically still married… even if he was still living at home with barb and his daughter, still wearing his wedding ring. this was okay.

right?

“oh my god—“ you cried out, your legs spread open as your lover fucked you with his face buried into your neck. he peppered you with hundreds of kisses, biting and leaving the faintest of marks along your soft skin, “don’t stop, coop, fuck me,” you whined into his ear, your eyes closed while your fingernails scratched down his back.

he moaned against your skin as his cock stretched you with each forward snap of his hips. he was tired, sweat beading on his forehead—he didn’t have the endurance like he used to, but he had an easy fix.

cooper pushed himself back until he was settled on his knees, pulling out of you as his thick cock sprung up and gave you quite the view. you let out a whiny, pitiful sound at the emptiness as you clenched around nothing like a needy young thing. the older man could stay like this forever, happily watching his lover begging and pleading to be fucked by him until you were filled up with his cum—a sight for sore eyes.

just before you could protest his actions and ask him to keep fucking you dumb, he wrapped an arm under your waist and moved to rest on his back with you straddling him. your knees dug into the plush comforter, palms flattening onto cooper’s bare chest.

your voice cracked as you shuddered out a moan, the overbearing fullness of his cock pushing deep inside your slick cunt. his calloused hands were tight on your hips as he guided your movements, wanting to see you fuck yourself on him.

“look at me,” cooper drawled, that disgustingly beautiful smirk on his lips, “what a pretty cowgirl. you look so good ridin’ me like that,” he murmured, thumb now circling over your clit as you started grinding your hips against his to get the friction you craved.

obediently, you forced your eyes open to look into cooper’s hazel orbs and lifted your hands away from his chest to settle on weight on his hips. you gave him the perfect view, able to watch as you rolled your hips forward and seeing how your perky tits bounced. his eyes glazed over as mouth opened, a heady moan falling from his lips as you rode him with the practiced movements you’d learned from the handfuls of nights shared together.

“am i your favourite cowgirl?” you asked, pouting your lips and moaning while his thumb rubbed slow, calculated movements along your clit. you both had slowed your movements, taking in the raw intimacy and pleasure you shared. savouring every last bit of it because neither of you ever wanted it to end.

“don’t be coy with me, baby,” he answered quietly, reaching his free hand to touch your breast, giving a firm squeeze, then rolling your nipple between his fingers, “you know the answer.”

mewling, you closed your eyes tight when he pinched your puffy, hard nipple and a sharp pain shot through your nerves before settling into a sick, twisted feeling of pleasure.

“keep, ridin’,” he whispered, voice raspy, “c’mon, doll, i know you want to cum on my cock.”

you nodded pitifully, trying your best to will your thighs to keep bouncing on him, even as you ached.

cooper watched you with a lazy grin, keeping his thumb right where you needed it until you came with a loud cry—loving every goddamn second.

#cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #walton goggins #fallout fic #fallout prime fic #cooper howard fic #the ghoul fic #wordsbyspatial

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undercoverpena · 3 days

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13. hello yellow

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter thirteen of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 4.3k (she became a biggie) chapter warnings: reference to anxious!reader. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. an: this is the one you've been waiting for... .

prev chapter | series masterlist

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

It grows on your tongue on a cooler morning—the birds having only just begun chirping, the sun really only just rising. But he's there, truck parked outside as he brings you coffee, for no other reason than just because.

It's almost hard not to say the three words.

They thicken in your throat when you surprise him at work, having already spoken to Harry, asking if you can steal him for an extra half an hour. His face brightens, practically illuminating when he sees you at the register. It continues to do so when you take him back to the place where the two of you had lunch, his face beaming.

You’re not sure how the words don’t escape there and then.

There are a bunch of moments saying them could have been right. It would be so easy to let them slip out, but then he'll say something that makes you laugh, or his phone will go off and the conversation shifts, and you wait a little longer.

But you don’t just want right, you want perfect.

Just like him.

You know how we love Harold?

Yes?

He might have recommended me to a friend of his for some paintwork.

This sounds like a good thing, yet it feels very bad for me.

The only date the man can do is the day I said we’d go to the beach.

If this isn’t you asking me to come and help you be your a-paint-tice I’m going to be really let down.

You want to come paint a man’s house with me?

I want to do anything with you, Butterscotch.

It vibrates from two rooms away—buzzing, buzzing, buzzing.

Your feet rush for you, socks almost making you a health hazard as you round the corner from your bedroom to the hallway. A laugh trying to escape from giddiness as your palms press into your off-white walls, before using it for leverage to continue.

Moving, almost running, not looking where you’re going, only realising at the last second when your foot collides with it.

Pain.

It pulses and makes tears spring to your eyes instantly. The hurt is more than radiating, it erodes, grows and pounds.

Fucking toolbox.

Hand grasping it as you half-hobble to the little side table where your phone almost topples off.

Butterscotch <3

A caller ID that usually brings an immediate smile to your face, and still, even as you clutch your foot in your hand and drag your finger across the screen, it somehow still does.

“Hey, I’m almost there—did you want lunch in or out?”

Stuffing a wince down your throat, you blink back fresh tears as your thumb presses down on a particular spot. “I need to show you something but maybe out?”

“You okay?” No, you want to hiss—wanting to add extra O’s and everything. “You sound off?”

Swallowing bitterness, you try to smile as you lower your foot—putting some weight on it as you suddenly become warm, and uncomfortable.

“Rainy?”

“Butterscotch, I bet you’re one street—you’re literally pulling up.”

You swear you hear him grin. Almost being able to tell even from the way he puts his vehicle in park that his smile is growing into his cheeks and cascading over his eyes. It makes your own appear, somehow rising to the surface and kicking its feet furiously to appear.

By the time you’d end the call, quickly check your foot inside your sock and put it back in place, your eyes catch his coming through your front door. Letting in amber streams of sunlight that paint across the hardwood in warm, honeyed hues. Bringing in warmth, a calmness, the pain suddenly non-existent when you see him slide out the key from the keyhole—the one you’d told him to keep, the one you’d give him, told him to use.

The sight pulls at something inside of you, making it easier to smile, to beam as he closes it behind him and walks himself up to you—mouth pressing to yours. The taste of coffee and mint flooding your mouth, your fingers full of his curls as his hand presses to your lower spine—bodies flush, his keys clanging in the air.

“You know I think you’re beautiful,” he whispers, teeth teasing your bottom lip before releasing it with a pop. “But, baby, what are you wearing?”

His hand slides down the plastic, water-proof full-body overalls you have on. It rustles, making your skin even warmer when he takes another long look at you, and laughs.

Not a giggle.

Not a quiet, hidden and disguised laugh. A full-on roar of laughter.

“I got it for next week,” you exclaim, heat rising up your neck. “You told me I’d need to wear something that would cover me—wanted to make sure it was okay.”

“Baby, I meant not your romper—'cause you’ll get paint on your legs. I didn't mean a… hazmat suit?”

Folding your arms, you take a step back, face scrunching in a wince you’re not sure he notices as you roll your eyes before turning on your heels to change. “I’m new to this.”

“I know, I know,” he says, trying to stifle his laugh, hand reaching out. “Baby, wait, I’m sorry. Okay? You just don’t need—fuck, Rainy. I can see your ass through this.”

“No, you cannot.”

“I fucking can.”

Letting him pull you into his arms, you shake your head, stupidly unable to stop yourself from grinning, before his lips brush over yours. Your nails digging into the t-shirt on his waist, mouth parting as he eases you back, a grimace hidden against his tongue as his knee nudges between your plastic-covered thighs.

“Frankie,” you whisper, it leaving your tongue like a whine.

He only hums in response, it vibrating against you, fingers tightening in his curls as his knee rises that bit more, friction so readily there, easily able to rock your hips if you so want to. Until it rustles, furrows, a noise so unsexy you feel him slowly grin against your mouth.

“Can’t believe you just wore underwear under this,” he teases, dropping his knee.

Your breath finds your lungs with more ease as you roll your lower lip between your teeth, admiring him, unable to stop ogling the man who is very much all yours after the position he just had you in.

“I should change before we go out for lunch,” you mumble. “Before I flash everyone.”

Moving away from him before he can stop you, you let out a groan as your bad foot flattens, unable to hide the misstep. Hearing him call your name, you're quick to wave him off. Digging your nails into your palm as you take (what feels like a thousand) steps until you’re unzipping the ridiculous plastic, all-in-one, and begin yanking drawers and doors open until you’re standing in something more appropriate for lunch.

Half-closing your bedroom door behind you, you don’t need to call for him, you know where he’ll be. Finding him exactly where you expected, tape measure in hand—right in front of one of the office windows.

“Thought you could do that in your head.”

Snorting, shooting you a look over his shoulder, he grins. “Wanna make sure I’m exact.”

“For me?”

“For you.”

Leaning against the frame, not obviously showing you’re taking the weight from your now pulsing foot, you try to smile. Listening as he begins telling you about getting something for your windows, instead of thinking how you should ice it, get him to wrap it, maybe ask him—politely—if he’d put his fucking toolbox away between visits before you actually break something.

Somehow, you hear enough to follow what he’s saying, about how blinds would help, that they’d give you more daylight while also shielding you if you wish to work in the dark—they’d be more flexible, modern. He could help you fit them.

And it dawns on you, that while you've had it in your head about curtains, this is a thing you should have thought of yourself.

A thing which feels so obvious now he’s said it that it irks you that you haven’t. Because blinds would be better. Digging a hole in you, making you feel silly, stupid, and foolish—

The realisation makes you pinch your forearm and take a deep breath. You re-centre yourself, thinking about the one image that inspired all of this, imagining it with blinds instead of what had remained fixed in your head, hung and stuck.

The problem with desiring something inspirational is that it isn’t always tailored to the person who desires it. To you, who will be using the room. Yet, Frankie has thought of you—like the considerate, beautiful man that he is.

“From your face, you don’t want blinds?” he asks.

Your mouth opens, before closing. Putting some weight down as your eye narrows in pain—it floods through you as you try not to frown. “It’s not that—I just thought curtains. Thought I preferred the way curtains look, is all.”

Frankie shrugs, staring out of the window, before glancing back. “Curtains it is then.”

“But, blinds do make sense.”

And you can see it, the way he chews his tongue—the way he swallows words he wishes to say. It flares something within. Rolling his head on his shoulders, and scratching the back of his head, he smiles.

“But you want curtains.”

“I did.”

“Then have curtains.”

He’s being nice—that’s what you remind yourself. He’s being kind and thoughtful. He’s taking what you’re saying and giving you exactly that.

Yet it feels… bad.

It makes you all of a sudden not want it—anger bubbling, trying to grow wider in your stomach. Instead, wanting him to tell you that you should have blinds, for all the reasons he’s listed, because it makes sense. They’re practical, and easy; it’ll block the sun out if it’s a bright day. They’ll even look modern; following the theme of the room.

And the fact he isn’t reminding you of that makes you mad. So much you feel it clawing up your throat, all ash and brimstone; flames and bonfire.

But you’re not mad at him. You’re mad at yourself for not looking. You’re not mad at him, just his toolbox. You’re not mad at him. You’re mad—

It repeating. Swirling. Shifting around the imaginary plug hole in your head as you wait for it to fall through and douse whatever it is that is brewing inside of you.

“I didn’t think of it like you did, so let’s have blinds.”

“It’s okay, it’s really—”

“But, they make sense, Frankie. You just said so.”

Jaw tightening, he hides his annoyance with a smile. “But, baby, you don’t want blinds, so let me just measure for—”

Standing straight, unable to hide the miniature sob from pain, you follow it with: “Stop being nice to me.”

He blinks. Both at your tone and the words that snap through the air as your palm pushes against your forehead, hoping to quiet it, the simmering anger that bubbles and thickens like soup.

“Rainy—”

“You don’t… I’m not broken, Frankie. Sometimes we can just… disagree. You can tell me I’m wrong.”

“I know that.”

He says it so quickly, all with a colder edge to his words. Ice threatening to wrap around them, freeze, as they go to land, pellet. Bruise against you.

Tilting your head, you stare at him—knowing you should stop. Remove your finger from the metaphorical scab. “Do you? Because ever since the other month you’ve been… extra nice.”

“And that’s a problem?”

“It is when I’m furious with you,” you snap, it’s out now, you think.

Chest tight, things unfurling and uncoiling, flames ripping through you as though all the emergency doors have flung open and allowed it to breathe through every part of you.

“When I’m mad that I tripped over your toolbox again because you didn’t put it away. Because you likely did something nice for me and forgot. But now I’ve really hurt my foot—”

“—Baby, why didn’t you—”

But you ignore him. Not even waving him off, just continuing, “—and that I can’t decide if I want curtains or blinds and yet you make a very good argument for blinds that I hadn’t considered and you always do that—have amazing ideas, great insight, plus, you seemingly know me better than I know me, which is so lovely, but I'm mad at myself for not thinking of it. But, you, you didn't do that, because you understand me.”

“Is this a bad thing?”

No, you think as your mouth jams shut. Staring. Blinking. Because of course, it isn’t. It’s just that it’s never been something you’ve had, never experienced, never thought could possibly be given to you.

A thing that you both love, so much, but also feel is going to be ripped from you at any moment. Better not to have it, than lose it. No skill to prepare for this level of care, so used to having to make decisions and choices and have no one offer to help.

But he’s not going.

He’s standing, hands at his sides, line between his brows. Confusion trying to crawl over him and lather his features, but he seems to be fighting it, stopping it. His eyes somehow remain soft even as your mouth hands open, more words set to spit and fire—

“I need. I need a moment.”

And you don’t wait for the okay or the sight of his face falling.

Just moving, hurrying. Feet trying to carry you through to the kitchen as your palms use the wall as a crutch to do so, finding a counter to rest on, to lean on, to breathe against as thick, uncontrollable tears begin to paint your cheeks. Whether from the pain or the fact you’d snapped. Unable to hold them back from rumbling out when your forehead presses against cool wood as you take breaths in and out, in and out.

Doing so until the pain dries on your cheeks and you’re merely resting, taking the moment you said you needed before you hear him clear his throat. Before he asks if he can come closer and if he can look at your foot, two things you quickly nod for—wanting to take it back, apologise, even explain. Instead, you let him aid you up onto the counter, slide the sock from your foot assess it and turn it, finger brushing over your skin as light as a feather as he asks does it hurt here, or what about here?

It makes your heart flutter.

Makes it even harder not to blurt three words at him, when really he deserves a chorus of them for what in the hell just happened. So, you lead with:

“I’ve decided that I don’t like fighting with you.”

Snorting, he picks up the sock from the floor, easing it slowly back over your toes. “It’s not my favourite thing we do together either.”

Smirking, you stare down at him. Watching him. “I don’t want you to think I’m fragile. That’s all.

“That you can’t challenge me just because of what happened the other month. Because it’ll happen again. But I can still make choices, you can still tell me I’m wrong—sometimes, I need you to tell me I’m wrong, because if you agree with me all the time, you won’t push me to be better. I’ll just stay stagnant, and choose curtains when I really think I’ll regret it and want blinds.”

Standing, he places his hands on either side of your thighs on the counter, letting out a heavy exhale as he looks at you, as he stares from eye to eye, before whispering your name. The one which sounds so kind in his mouth, that sounds like it matters—that it holds importance and weight, even if you prefer Rainy.

“I don’t think you’re fragile,” he whispers as you slide your hand over his, watching his eyes soften, heal. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I did.”

Half-smiling, you nod. Eyes searching his, waiting to see if the lie appears when he blinks, whether it spreads out like paint touching water and if it makes his truthful eyes murky. But it never comes. Instead, his hand cups your cheek, in a way that centres you and makes you only want to look at him.

Exhaling, he smiles. “I just don't want to make you choose something you don't want. That's all, baby.”

Eyeing him chewing words, weighing up whether it’s worth it to speak them or let them slide back into the crevice they slithered from. Because it’s painful, maybe far too much truth for him, can see it in the way it makes lines appear across his face, as though it’s fracturing him to remember.

“I wasn’t really mad at you.”

Slowly, a grin breaks out. “Yes, you was.”

“Okay, a little bit, but it wasn’t your fault. So, I’m sorry. But I am mad at your toolbox, it really hurt.”

“I’ll be sure to tell it.”

Narrowing your eyes, you slowly part your legs, tugging on him to move between them, wrapping them around his waist as he shyly smiles. “Been thinking.”

“About how you now want curtains again?”

Pinching him, hearing him hiss, you smirk. “Too soon, Morales. No. I’ve been thinking that the cupboard closest to the office door.” He hums in response, it vibrating against your collarbone as he kisses it. “Think that’s where your toolbox should live.”

You feel him grin against your skin, blow warm air in an exhale against it. “You making room for my tools now.”

Lifting his chin, nose bumping against the tip of his, you mirror his smile. “I want to make room for all of you, Frankie.”

“Yeah?”

Pressing a peck to his lips, you wipe your thumb over it. “Yeah.”

Babe, what is the attire for a kid's soccer match?

Comfort. It’s a lot of standing at the sidelines and hopeful cheering.

So knee-high socks and tight shorts are a no?

Fuck. That’s a fucking image.

Help me, because what I’ve Googled isn’t helping me.

I have a spare shirt you can wear.

Does it have Morales on the back?

It actually does.

Frankie, did you make adult versions of your son’s soccer team kit?

Does it make me lame if I say yes?

No, it makes me want to ask you if you can grab me fifteen minutes earlier so my mouth can show you how not-lame that is.

You'll be pleased to know I've sent the email and I am no longer working with 'prickly-puta', as you so lovingly called him.

I'm really proud of you. You okay?

I'd be better if I could celebrate with you, but I can wait.

How would you want to celebrate?

You sure you want to know?

Always, baby.

Well, I was thinking about showing you my power tools.

Maybe even using them? Letting you see what I do with them. It's very different from what you do with yours.

You there, I can see the typing bubble keep popping up.

Give me ten and I can video chat.

Oh no, you don't get an advanced preview. Might let you listen though.

Fuck me.

That's what I'd be saying if you were here right now.

You don't mind that painting ruined the beach because the rain is unrelenting.

The grey of the day filters through the bare windows, spreading itself as far as it can as Frankie prepares the second room of the three the two of you were set to do.

You don’t mind the sound of rain; you never have. You find it peaceful how it cascades down from the drains and runs in marathons down the glass. Right now, the sound trickles in through the open window, while the room is suffused with the scent of fresh paint from the kitchen, mingling with the aroma of the third pot of coffee Frankie’s been brewing.

Even if he doesn't admit it, you swear he's only making as many so he can take a moment to kiss you. To run his hands over your waist and slide them over your romper-covered ass—

“Have I told you how good your ass looks in this?”

Sipping your coffee, tasting each note of it, you reply, “Twice, actually.”

“Not enough then.”

Between acting like teenagers in a stranger’s home (including him leaving a large handprint firmly on your denim-covered ass), the paint goes on in thick strokes. You cut in, trying to match the rhythm of the song playing out on the radio—a game only you are playing to distract yourself—because the sight of Frankie using the roller is ruining you.

Unable to stop staring at the way his arms flex with each motion; how his shirt stretches out across his back to the point you're not sure how the threads haven't ripped.

“Want to see the colour for this room?”

It’s a serene shade of yellow, reminiscent of a summer’s day. It'll brighten the room, glide nicely over the old, smothering secrets and old stories, offering something new. Fitting, you think from the drive over when Frankie told you the situation.

“It's perfect.”

“Isn't it?”

Arm around his waist, fingers stroking up and down his side. “Did you pick it, Morales?”

Shyness breaks out then, smile lopsided, eyes averting before whispering, “Maybe.”

You made a note to tell him later what an eye for colour he has.

Dipping the tip of the brush in the paint tray, you swipe it against the corner where two walls meet, finding his eyes on you again.

“Stop marvelling at my paintwork and focus on your own, Morales.”

“S’not your paint skills I’m staring at.”

Smirking, you look over your shoulder at him, nose scrunching. “Who knew watching me paint was your kink.”

You like the sound of his laugh mingling with the yellow on the walls. It makes you smile wider, a thing you find yourself doing each time you refill your paint tray as torture him with your terrible singing.

The only other noise is the rain, the clink of a paint can and the rustle of plastic drop cloths as the transformation happens before your very eyes. It’s not even dried, and it already looks far better than the cigarette-stained walls and palm-covered handprints you hadn’t wanted to guess why they were there, yet had done all the same.

“Maybe he’s measuring how tall he is with his hands.”

Frankie snorts. “What if he wipes his dirty hands on the wall? Finishes his food, wipes. Gets something on his finger, wipes. Has a sticky hand—well.”

You’re about to tell him not to finish that thought, when the radio plays the beginning notes of something that steals your attention.

It hooks in the corner of your lips and drags it up your cheeks as the familiar melody of an old favourite drifts from the speakers, wrapping the space in a cosy embrace—both taking you back and rooting you here in a new memory.

You try not to, but you can’t help the movement in your hips. The way you begin whispering—hushed voice mingling with the music, filling the room with a gentle, attempted harmony as your pitch gets higher, and higher.

Then, you're swaying to the rhythm, lost in it, catching a glimpse of Frankie out of the corner of your eye as he leans against the doorway, arms folded across his chest, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

There's something in his eyes, you can see it. A tender look, one that makes your heart skip a beat.

But you close your eyes, and let the music carry you away, your voice rising and falling with the lyrics as they spill from your lips effortlessly. Opening your eyes at the bridge, finding him still watching, in awe, gaze unwavering.

And there's a softness there in his expression that you've never seen before, a quiet intensity that takes your breath away. It's as if the world has faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in this sunshine-filled room, back-lit by a horrid stormy day.

Yet, it feels perfect.

More so as you begin to sing to him, unable to stop staring as he takes a step closer, eyes never leaving yours. His fingers slide under yours, taking the tray and brush from your hands, placing it aside as his smile widens, eyes crinkling at the corners, looking at you as if you're the most precious thing in the world.

“What?”

He reaches out, gently brushing his knuckles on your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “I love you,” he murmurs, his voice soft and steady.

For a moment, the room seems to stand still.

A flicker of something sparks inside you. Those same words have been so close to your tongue for days now that you almost need to pinch yourself to see if you've really heard them.

But, you know you heard it. The declaration hanging in the air, weighty and profound, making the actual music fade into the background, you swear time itself pauses, allowing the enormity of his words to sink in.

Frankie slides his arm around your waist, still smiling, tugging you closer—a thing your body gives with all but ease. And he repeats it. Those three words.

This time, your heart skips a beat. Emotions swirl within you like a tempestuous sea. One that calms under the stroke of his thumb as your fingers wrapping around his wrist, drawing a soft shape there.

“I love you too, Morales.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding, a grin breaking out like the sun on the walls. “I’ve been in love with you for a while.”

Then you hear it, the velvety, smooth sound of him saying good, as he kisses you to the last notes and chorus of an old, but new favourite song.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal character fanfiction #triple frontier x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #frankie morales #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #pedrostories #jo: dmy #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal

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moonydustx · 2 days

Note

Hey, Brazilian here!!! Can you write about Law x Sick!Reader?

Oi oi! Mais um dia, mais um atraso om os pedidos. Primeiro, muito obrigada pelo seu pedido <3 Aqui e aqui temos algumas histórias sobre Law x Sick!Reader. Mas como é quase irresistível escrever sobre nosso pirata favorito, hoje eu trouxe mais uma. Espero de verdade que goste!

And here’s the translation: Hi Hi! Another day, another delay with orders. First, thank you so much for your request <3 Here and here we have some stories about Law x Sick!Reader. But since it's almost irresistible to write about our favorite pirate, today I brought one more. I really hope you like it!

Requests are back soon, don't give up on me!

one piece masterlist

The isolated

Law x Sick!Reader (F!Reader)

warnings: idiots who don't know how to show their feelings, maybe there is a wrong use of DF, certainly medical errors because I'm not very good at writing this topic.

The sun shone brightly outside the Polar Tang, matching the summer island you had stumbled upon. Beaches, parks, and even a small forest trail awaited you, and despite Bepo's grumbles, it promised to be a good time to relax.

"Are you two staying here?" you adjusted your backpack on your back and stopped beside your captain. "There's so much to do."

"I only leave here to buy ice, or ice cream." Bepo, sprawled on the deck, grumbled. Your eyes soon turned to the captain's.

"And you?"

"Maybe I'll go to the city later, need to buy some things." he said, assessing you from head to toe. "Aren't you going to the beach with them?"

"Not really. From what I saw, there's a pretty cool trail to hike, I can take the opportunity to get some new herbs."

"Hm, alright." he replied, returning to contemplating Bepo suffering in the heat.

"Any problem, Captain?"

"No, nothing serious." Lie. The invitation for you to accompany him on the small visit to the city lingered on his lips, but apparently, it would stay there. "Enjoy your trail."

"Thanks, Captain! I'll be back before the end of the day."

You disembarked from the ship without further difficulties, following the small map you had bought earlier. On the Polar Tang, Law watched from afar as you walked away. He held a certain fondness for you - one you would never suspect - making it difficult for him to approach. Despite the shared breakfasts and the plant and herb lessons you gave him, which he insisted on attending despite knowing most of the content already, he enjoyed being with you. It was a pity he didn't know there was a reciprocal feeling on your part.

On the other hand, you even expected an invitation to accompany him, but just as he didn't seem very interested in being on your trail, he also didn't seem interested in your company. The hours passed without end, and with each passing moment, you grew more and more exhausted. Even before the sun set, you were already making your way back up to the Polar Tang.

"What the hell happened to you?" Shachi was the first to ask, catching your attention as you headed towards the submarine's interior.

"What the hell what?" you looked over, seeing nothing abnormal except for the fatigue and heat in your body, likely from all the walking.

"We better call the captain." Jean Bart advised and didn't wait for a response, running further into the submarine.

You tried to see something in some reflection as you watched your colleagues avoid you as if you carried the plague within you. Your irritation with your friends was replaced by concern as soon as Law saw you. You expected a scolding, you expected some acidic comment from him, but you didn't expect the lack of words, except for the ones that made you teleport with him straight to the medical ward.

"Captain, what's happening?" you stumbled backward as he guided you not so gently to a stretcher.

"Open your mouth." he completely ignored your question, and you could tell he was more worried than usual, so you just obeyed. With a small flashlight, he checked what you believed was just your throat. "Can you breathe normally, have you felt anything?"

"I'm just a bit tired, that's all. I don't understand all this fuss." you grumbled.

Only then did Law realize that indeed, you knew nothing of what was happening or why everyone had practically become concerned. Looking for a mirror and finding it impossible to find one in the medical ward of the Polar Tang, he grabbed a small sterilized steel tray and passed it to you, indicating that you should look at yourself.

"What?" your cry echoed through the enclosed room. Your face, neck, and every piece of skin you could see were adorned with red and swollen lumps. "Law, what's happening to me?"

"At first, I thought it might be an allergic reaction. But with unobstructed airways, I rule out that possibility, given the size of these lumps, if it were an allergy you shouldn't be breathing." he touched your face, gently turning it from side to side.

"And you're speaking so calmly?"

"If I spoke more agitatedly, you'd get nervous, your body would pump your blood faster, and if it were poison it would only take a few minutes for you to drop dead here." again, that calmness in dealing with serious matters infuriated you. "It might be that," he muttered to himself.

"Poison? Am I poisoned?" you stood up and immediately stumbled, leaning against his arms. "Am I going to die?"

"Probably, maybe, and no." he helped you sit back down. "Just give me a minute, I suspect what it might be."

He disappeared from your sight, and immediately, it was as if exhaustion dominated your body. You allowed yourself to lie down and wait for a few minutes. When your eyes were already heavy - even though less than five minutes had passed - you saw him appear with a book in hand.

"Can you stand up and take off your clothes?" he asked, seeing you nod, even though it took minutes just for you to stand up.

Remaining only in underwear, Law took care not to touch your body disrespectfully. The lumps already occupied almost your entire skin, giving him some trouble finding what he needed. After turning you around a few times and bending down to see better, he unfortunately found what he suspected.

"Here!" he pointed to the side of your body and again picked up the small steel plate that served as a mirror. As soon as he showed you, you could locate two red dots. Law then stood up and took the book he had brought. "It's a type of bug common on this kind of island."

"And what does that mean?" you leaned on the cot, not bothering to put your clothes back on.

"Well, it's going to be a few difficult days, and I'll need to isolate you from the rest of the crew, but you'll be fine."

"What do you mean by difficult days?" you tried to grab his book, but he didn't allow it. The way the symptoms were written was much scarier than it should have been in reality, at least that's what he hoped.

"Some symptoms are quite annoying, but with the right treatment, in about six to seven days, you'll be cured." he explained, watching you nod slowly. "It's normal to feel a bit tired at first; you might feel a bit itchy tomorrow too."

"You said you're isolating me here, is there a risk I've contaminated someone?" contaminated you, you wanted to add, but preferred to keep the thought to yourself. "I haven't touched anyone, but you never know."

"Contamination is through fluids, so no, for now, we'll all be fine. Here, I can still use my fruit to ensure a bit more protection for myself." he closed the book and stooped down, picking up the clothes you were wearing. "I'll get rid of this, alright?"

"Can you ask Ikakku to bring something for me to wear?"

"You're isolated, for a few days, only I will be able to come here, okay?" His hand almost touched you, but retracted in the last moments. "While you're not feeling better, we'll stay here on the island, but visits to the trail will be prohibited to everyone. I'll bring your clothes in a few minutes."

Law left and left you alone for a few moments, only returning to bring your pajamas. Even though you said it didn't need to be that type of clothing, Law warned that you would still be thankful for it.

On the first day, you were completely alone as the captain made sure that no one was infected and that everyone was aware of the necessary precautions. The lumps on your face seemed even redder, and when you noticed, you were already scratching and clawing, seeking some relief from the agony crawling on your skin.

"Don't scratch, you'll regret it." Law's voice appeared, and only then did you realize that he had entered the room. "It'll hurt more afterward."

"But Captain!" you grumbled and brought your nails back to your legs, barely reaching them before he grabbed your wrist. "It's itching too much!"

"I brought this." Only then did you realize that he had come armed with things. In one hand, a small pot that from the smoke and aroma, should be food. In the other, a small bag. "Here are ointments that can help, Ikakku also set aside some more clothes and other things that you might need."

You barely waited for him to finish speaking and began rummaging through the bag, searching for the ointment. As soon as you smeared it wherever you could reach, under his attentive gaze, you didn't need to ask. It only took a single exchange of glances for him to reach out and take the ointment from you. As soon as the cold cream reached your back - and perhaps because of the gentle way his fingers slid - you swore you could melt.

"I think it's good." He returned the tube and lowered your blouse carefully. "I brought soup for you."

"I'm not hungry."

"But I need you to eat, please." His eyes seemed to plead on their own, making it almost impossible for you to refuse.

Law stayed longer than the day before, watching you eat and updating you on what had happened outside. From Shachi and Penguin almost getting beaten up by two women on the beach, to Bepo swimming with buoys and several other amenities. Although he stayed longer than the day before, it didn't take long for Law to leave you alone again.

The next morning, you understood what Law meant about regretting scratching. The vivid memory of your nails scratching your body was replaced by an unbearable burning sensation, which left you almost immobile. Except that it also itched, making you seek friction, however minimal. That morning, you were taken out of bed by Law's appearance. A tray was in his hand, and as soon as he placed it on the table, he transported two more bags in.

"How are you feeling today?" he stopped by your side, looking at your still-laying face. "Burning, isn't it?"

"Like hell!" you grumbled, and saw him laugh, as if to say he had warned you. "Can you fix this?"

"At best, alleviate it." he warned, and saw you nodding against the sheets. "But first, breakfast." His tattooed hand stretched out, and you used it as support to sit up.

Grabbing the bread and juice glass, you pushed the fruits in his direction.

"Eat too." he just waved his hand, and you insisted. "Please, Captain. It'll make me feel less strange."

"Okay, just a little." He grabbed one of the grapes and ate.

As soon as you finished, Law used the power of the Ope Ope no Mi to get you to a shower, and apparently, he had already left that isolation for you. He leaned against the outside and left you alone, washing your body. Even against his will, Law could hear your grumbles and sniffs, he knew that the contact of the water against the skin would be torture at that moment, but it was the best solution he could think of. How he wished he could take that pain away from you.

In the afternoon of that same day, you didn't expect to see him again, until once again he appeared in the room, armed with things that barely crossed your mind of what they could be.

"I-I…" he started, feeling a little insecure. He felt that perhaps, just maybe, he might be crossing the line between doctor and patient. "I believe you might be feeling lonely."

"You have no idea." you weakly laughed, accepting the package he offered. Some books, crosswords, and candies were piled in the package. "That's very kind of you captain, thank you."

"I brought more of these too." He piled some books next to you, with a glance you realized they were comics. "They help me pass the time, I think they might help you too."

"This is that story... Sora, right?" you flipped through some, excitedly. "I've always heard about it and even tried to read it, but I confess I didn't understand much."

"What didn't you understand?" he sounded almost offended, sneaking a peek at what you were talking about.

The idea was for him to just leave things there and leave you alone, but it seemed almost impossible that afternoon. Law got lost in the hours, what was supposed to be a simple explanation ended with him reading some issues aloud to you. He only realized this when he heard your stomach growl, knowing it was already dinner time.

In the following two days, you alternated between scratching, trying to avoid scratching, getting scolded by Law, and him losing hours again, talking to you. It had reached the point where Law and you were counting the hours to know when you would see each other's faces. You because you loved the company of your captain and how soothing his voice sounded when he read, or how he got excited gossiping about the "outside world," and Law felt he needed to see you up close, to ensure that you were and would be fine.

The last bout of symptoms was what worried Law, and it was when he entered the room and found you lying on the floor in a fetal position that he knew it had finally arrived. Although it meant that the illness was leaving your body, he knew it would be the most painful part.

"Law." your tearful voice called him as soon as he picked you up to put you back in bed. "My body hurts so much."

"I know, I know." he tried to calm you down and saw you curl up even more. "I promise, just one more day, and you'll be okay."

"I don't know if I can handle a whole day with so much pain." you sobbed and hugged yourself. "It hurts to breathe, it hurts to move, and-I-I don't know what to do."

He sighed, trying to think of how he could take that away from you. It was just one more day of symptoms, but it hurt him to hear from your mouth that you couldn't handle it. Just one more day, one more day, and you would be well again.

"Do you remember when the pain started?" he stepped away to start preparing a serum with medications for you.

"About two hours ago." you whispered, pulling the blankets against you and trying to press against your own body, the contact of your skin seemed like a relief.

"Okay, we have a few more hours ahead." he gently pulled your arm, and with the dexterity that only he could have, hit your vein on the first try, plugging the medication. "Maybe this will help a little with the symptoms."

Law stepped back again to get the book he had found the information about the insect that had bitten you. Most of it was that the symptoms were difficult, but they overcame themselves, and although it seemed like you were going to die, the probability was minimal. Pain and complications, pain and complications. Law finally found the topic he needed. When the disease was leaving the body, the heat provided by fire, blankets, humans could help, as well as pressure on the painful area.

"I have an idea." he murmured and began to take off his shoes.

While you were lying down, barely having strength to open your eyes, you saw him take off the shoes he was wearing and take off the hat he had on. The first thing he did was cover your head with the hat, making sure to keep as much of the top of your face covered and warm. Soon, he climbed onto the bed with you, his legs intertwined with yours, and his hands began to press against your body, promoting such relief that it drew a sigh from your lips and allowed you to stretch.

"Sorry." he apologized, his hands now pressing against your back intensely. "It's the best I could think of quickly."

"It's perfect." with some difficulty, you turned to him. "Thank you for taking care of me, Captain."

"This is my duty, isn't it?"

"Well, not when I'm a mess here, in pain, and crying." you tried to laugh, but a memory of a conversation you had some time ago struck you. "Enough, Law, you need to step back."

"And why would I do that?"

"Why do you think? Contact equals contamination, don't you remember?" you grumbled. Even though the massage he provided was the relief you needed, the last thing you wanted was to infect him.

"You're no longer so contagious. You're on the last day of the illness, full of symptom medications, and I'm protected, there's no possibility of you infecting me." he explained and felt your hand against his chest, trying to push him away. "Don't you believe me?"

"I'm a mess here, of course I'll infect you."

Instead of answering you, Law just stole a quick kiss from your lips, in an impulse of courage to show a little of what he felt and in the desperation to stop you from continuing to push him and, consequently, pushing himself out of the bed.

"I wouldn't do this if you were contagious, you know that." he simply said and pulled you closer, allowing your face and body to almost merge against his skin. "Now let me take care of you."

The last day of the illness passed faster than you expected, mainly because much of it you spent sleeping in the arms of your captain, who didn't stop for a second trying to ward off the pain from you.

The next day, you were finally free to walk around the submarine, take a shower freely, choose your own clothes, free from the small medical ward you spent those days in. As soon as you finished putting on your uniform, two knocks on the door caught your attention.

"Can we talk?" Law inquired, not waiting for the answer to enter the room. "About yesterday…"

"There's nothing I would change about that." you interrupted him, and you swore you could see a certain blush on his face. "Except the pain, I thought I was going to die."

"I would never let that happen."

"Captain?" you approached, stopping a short distance from him.

"Law, please." he corrected you. He liked to hear his title leave your lips, but hearing his name was a much more savory experience.

"Law, aside from all the pain and stress, it was good to spend these days alone with you." you confessed, seeing him nod. "Although I'm also ridiculous with those lumps that have now turned into scars, I really should have listened to you."

"Don't say that, even if you wanted to, you wouldn't be that." he refused to name you in such a rude way. "And I also enjoyed our time together."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I want to do it right." he cleared his throat, adjusting his posture and asking the question that could avoid all the stress of you having gone to do the damn trail. "Will you accept to visit the city with me?"

#fiction #reader insert #one piece #no use of y/n #trafalgar d law x reader #law x reader #law x you #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader

115 notes · View notes

eff4freddie · 3 days

Text

Touch | Epilogue

Joel makes good on his promise to date you, at least once.

Words: 4k

Warnings: Just a slutty lil farewell to our resident Jackson masseuse and her grumpy-arse maybe sorta boyfriend, smut, vaginal fingering, sexy times, stockings that are far too thin for early Spring. Minors DNI

A/N: Another thank you for your support of this little story that ended up being a bit bigger and more complex than I expected. I went there because of your encouragement. Thank you, always.

Part Eight | Series Masterlist

The season was turning, but there was still a chill of a nighttime. It had been six weeks since Joel returned to Jackson, the medical supplies he and the second expedition managing to find and defend ensuring a healthy and safe Jackson for at least another two winters. The whole energy of the place, the optimism, was back in the community, and you had thrived in it, started to bloom alongside the wildflowers dotting the pathways into town.

You’d spent the time working, teaching Ellie, occasionally hanging around Joel’s place while he convalesced, first in his bed, then on the new-ish couch Tommy had found and dragged in through the back door. It wasn’t leather like his old one, and the springs stuck out in the centre so that you had to be very careful where you sat, but it was better than the rocking chair, and it was enough for him to sit still in for at least a few weeks.

He kept promising that he was going to date you, at least once if you’d let him, and each time you’d fobbed him off, telling him he had to get better first, that he was no good to you limping, that you wanted him marginally less grumpy if he could manage it. You weren’t sure why you were stalling, other than that you felt you were toes to the edge of a precipice.

When you were little your little family of four had driven out to the Grand Canyon, and you’d stood on the edge of the red dirt and been totally overwhelmed by the size of it, of all the negative space, the absence. You’d found yourself, aged eight and a half, ready to cry and even now, thirty years later, you remembered the howling wind, the echo of it.

You thought about the beauty of it, now. Now that you had seen so much worse, so much more, you reminded yourself that people used to travel entire countries to see the Grand Canyon. In your mind’s eye you entered your memories and stood beside yourself, your child self, and took her hand. You pointed to the sky, drew her eyes up and away from the ground beneath. Felt her pulse race under your touch as you showed her that the magnitude of it was the beauty in it, was the point of it all.

You accepted Joel’s invitation for the next Friday night. Then you ran to Maria’s to find something to wear.

You were supposed to meet at 8, a respectable time after dinner so as not to feel like you needed to have a meal; a more casual time, a more intimate time, when you could drink and chat and only stay an hour if you found it wasn’t working. It was both an in and an out.

Except that you were late, your last client having not only stored muscle tension in his fascia but emotional tension as well, and as soon as you had pushed into the glute he had unleashed years of mourning, of loss, of fears. You had stopped, wrapped him in a towel and pulled him upright, stood back and let him shake with the force of it. It wasn’t new, that people would come with muscle aches and discover trauma aches instead, but you lost track of time trying to put him back together again, trying to assure him of his safety. Tommy was right; sometimes it doesn’t come out until you feel safe enough to let it.

But it meant by the time you were pulling your door open you were about forty minutes late. Your cheeks burned with the shame of it, your timekeeping one of your strengths in the before-times, in the times when you had no other responsibilities other than the hell of being 15.

Joel was coming up your path and you stopped, nearly dropping the jacket you were still trying to pull over your shoulders. You couldn’t read his expression in the dark but his eyes were on you, and he was coming up, fast.

‘Joel, I’m so sorry,’ you started, as he strode towards you and up your porch. ‘I got caught up with a client, I couldn’t leave until they were…’ his hands were on you then, gripping you to him, your jaw resting in his warm palm.

‘You OK?’ he asked you, his eyes searching yours.

‘I’m fine, of course I am,’ you said, flustered, under the intensity of his inspection. ‘I just couldn’t…he was so sad, Joel. I had to stay.’

He nods at this, his jaw ticking. You resisted the urge to reach up and sink your fingertips into the masseter. ‘Were you worried about me, Joel?’ you asked, and he narrowed his eyes at you, then, suddenly freezing up.

‘Thought you weren’t coming, or that you were…thought maybe something had happened,’ he said, and you felt yourself soften.

‘I’m fine. And I would never stand you up,’ you said, moving to hold him around his waist, to circle him in your arms, only able to reach halfway around him, broad as he was. He avoided your eyes, the worry etched deep into his brow.

You still hadn’t kissed him. All of the things he had done to you, the way he had pulled you apart under his hands, his mouth, spread around his cock, nothing so intimate as a kiss.

‘I’m sorry,’ you said again, low and velvet in your throat. ‘I really like you, Joel,’ you went on, and he finally met your gaze, again. The naked vulnerability in it making you pause. You wondered how many people had ever seen this side of him. You suspected he could count them on one paw.

‘It’s late,’ he said, and started to pull away from you. ‘Maybe we should try again some other time.’ To your dismay he had nearly turned his back to you, and without thinking you grabbed him around the middle and tried to turn him back.

‘Wait,’ you said, and he hissed then, his muscles seizing. You let go of him, horrified.

‘M’ok,’ he muttered, raising his hand to stop you from rushing toward him. ‘Just…still gettin’ there, is all.’

‘Come in, please,’ you said, not touching him, not moving towards him, hoping your voice would be enough to get him to stay. ‘It’s cold, I have a bottle of whiskey Tommy slipped me when you were in the hospital, I can…’

‘You needed whiskey, baby?’ he said, and he had that lopsided grin on his face again, and you wanted to lick it off him. ‘Were you worried about little ole me?’

Never mind, you wanted to slap it off.

‘Oh for fucks sake,’ you said, rolling your eyes and turning back to your door. ‘Don’t get all cute just because I got scared when you nearly died,’ you said, and you heard him chuckle. You entered your house and turned to him, one hand on the door. ‘In or out?’ you asked, and you knew that you were talking to the both of you, knew that he wasn’t the only one facing the indecision, knew that you palming the responsibility off onto him, that you would accept his decision even if it meant never talking to him again. He hesitated, but only for a moment.

He was back in your kitchen, on the same chair from a more recent before-time, from before he’d found a place for himself somewhere under your skin. You were both sipping your whiskey, listening to the crackling fire in the other room, letting the silence seep out and blanket you. He was still enormous, still took up nearly half the space, and you ceded all of it to him.

‘Ellie speaks the world of you,’ he said, after a while, and you knew that this was important to him, that first and foremost he was her dad, her keeper and her protector.

‘She’s a lovely kid,’ you said, and then corrected yourself. ‘Not a kid. She’d fucking kill me if she knew I said that.’

He chucked into his glass. ‘Won’t tell her,’ he promised.

‘How’s that healing?’ you asked, gesturing to his wrist. It wasn’t in a splint anymore but it was still tightly bandaged.

‘S’just weak, aches in the cold,’ he said, and you nodded. You reached out and pulled it towards you, lay it on the kitchen table between you. You slipped the bandage away, watched the blood rush back in and pink up the flesh underneath it.

‘You need to stretch it, keep it strong,’ you said. ‘Bones probably healed but now the muscles’ll be lazy.’

‘Yes, doctor,’ he said, and you glanced up at him, at the crinkles in his skin and the warmth in his eyes as he teased you.

‘I mean it,’ you said, pretending to be offended, using it as an excuse to slip your hands around his wrist, his forearm. You felt the chords of the muscles there, the sinew and the veins. You rubbed your thumbs in firm circles, like you had shown him to do on your knee, all those weeks ago. You blushed at the thought of it, at the echo of the pleasure he had wrung from you not ten paces away.

He grunted a little, shifted in his seat, and you pulled his arm up at a right angle, so that his elbow was resting on the table. ‘Here, do this,’ you said, and you slipped your fingers between his, rested your forearm against his, leant in a little to ease your combined weight onto the joint.

‘I’m going to try and push your hand backwards, you push back,’ you said.

‘We arm wrestlin’?’ he asked, smiling again.

‘We will if you don’t behave yourself,’ you shot back, and he grinned.

‘Tell me when,’ he said, and you nodded your head. He grimaced at the strain through the joint, but you felt it stretch, felt it working under the force you were applying to it.

‘That’s good,’ you said, without thinking, ‘doing real well.’ He sucked a shy little breath in through his teeth. You stopped pushing, looking up into his pink cheeks. You continued to hold his hand, your eyes fixed to his.

‘Say it again,’ he said, and your mouth went dry.

‘Doing real well, Joel,’ you said, and watched as he blinked slowly, drinking it in. ‘Doing so good.’

He pulled you then, by the arm, out of your chair and into his lap, his mouth finding your neck and suckling, hard, as you struggled for purchase on his thighs. You could feel how hard he was through his jeans, the pulse of it pushing into your cunt as you settled yourself down on him, your thin little stockings under Maria’s borrowed dress doing absolutely nothing to provide a barrier against his throbbing for you.

He gasped, looked up at you as you perched above him. His pupils, blown wide with want, mirroring the ache you felt between your legs and in your heart for him. He tasted like peppermint toothpaste and you wondered idly if he’d brushed his teeth before heading to the Bison, if he’d hoped this would be the end result of the night or if it was just habit. You smelt the leather of his worn jacket. You reached up and let his salt and pepper beard scratch at the skin on your fingertips.

‘So good to us, Joel,’ you said, and you heard the gentlest whimper catch in his throat. ‘Looking after the town. Keeping us safe.’

‘Want to keep you, baby,’ he whispered, his eyes dropping to examine your lips. ‘Keep you tucked up all warm and safe, keep you under my roof where I know you’re protected.’ You shivered, at the heat of it, at the sincerity in it. ‘Be the one to shield you. All sweet and soft in your little kitchen. Wanting me, waiting f’me.’ He finished, biting his bottom lip.

‘I want you,’ you said, simply, feeling his cock jump underneath you.

‘Yeah?’ he asked, and you nodded.

‘Been waiting,’ you bit out, realising for the first time that it was true.

‘M’sorry baby,’ he said, playfully goading you. ‘Where did ya want me?’ he whispered, tucking his head under your chin and licking a stripe up your neck, chewing idly on your earlobe. You shivered again, a shuddering little thing that also came with a whimper. You took his hand from your waist and dropped it to your pussy, pushed his fingers to cup you there, gasping when he ran a fingertip along your seam.

‘Everywhere,’ you whispered, and he grunted, shifting his weight. With one warm hand splayed across your shoulder blades he leant you back, his eyes running up and down your body, devouring you. He kept his hand on your cunt, idly running a finger up and down where you ached the most for him, and you worried for a moment that he would feel how wet he’d made you just with his gaze.

His breath was warm across your cheeks when he exhaled. He took the hand from between your legs and cupped your breast, rolled the nipple through your dress, made you whimper.

‘Joel,’ you whispered, and you watched as his eyes lit up, as the sparks caught on kindling and turned into a forest fire, as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing from the strain. You wanted to run your tongue over his bottom lip, nip at it.

‘Sssh, baby, I know,’ he said, pulling you up off his lap to stand in front of him, your knees shaking. His arms bracketed your hips, gripping the table behind you, so you were surrounded by him. He remained seated, watching you from under heavy eyelids.

‘Take it off,’ he said, and you felt your pulse in your neck, thunderous.

‘Which?’ you asked.

‘Maria’s dress you don’t think I recognise, those silly little stockings that ain’t doing nothin’ to keep out the cold.’

He leant back on the chair again, kicked his legs out so that you were standing between his ankles now, leant his arm on the back of the chair and scratched at his beard. ‘Well, go on,’ he said, and you felt so exposed to him then, vulnerable in the heat of his stare.

‘Help me,’ you said, feigning not being able to get to the zipper, just for the excuse of turning away from him, from his eyes that were taking you apart atom by atom, from his hands resting on his thigh, from his thick fingers you wanted to slip into your mouth, let him push down on your tongue and suckle at him.

You felt his hands on your back, the zip coming down, the way he slipped the dress from you like he was unwrapping a present on Christmas morning. You leant over a little, trying to slip your stockings off and you heard him moan, felt his hands on you again, his warm paw on your lower back pushing you into a deeper bend, the other pulling on your hips to bring you closer to him, his hands gripping you, positioning you. You heard his sharp inhale when you slipped the stockings over your bottom, felt your cheeks blaze when he reached up and slipped your panties off along with them, bent over and completely exposed to him, wet and glistening in the light of the kitchen, the sound of your gasped little whimpers mixing with the ever-present whir of your forty-year-old fridge.

‘Oh, my girl,’ he said, and you wanted to launch yourself at him, seat yourself back on his lap and bury your head in his neck but he was running his hands up and down the back of your thighs, edging himself closer on the chair, pushing you forward so that your breasts rested on the kitchen table, your cheek flush to the cold wood.

He bent his head and placed a single kiss at the base of your spine and you worried your knees would buckle, worried you would collapse onto the kitchen tile. As you gasped he brought his hands up to cup your bottom, spreading your cheeks enough to slip a thumb into your cunt, probe the warmth and feel the wet collecting on his fingertip. You startled, trying to buck away, trying to buck towards him, circling your hips to capture him inside you, and you heard him chuckle, felt his lips dip lower to your tailbone as he twisted his hands, his thumb still inside as his fingers came around to cup and rub at your slit, your poor little aching clit caught between his fingertips.

‘Jesus,’ you cried, finding religion despite never having set foot in a church.

‘Want to keep you full of me,’ he muttered, sitting back down on the chair again and pulling you with him, spreading your legs over his so you were open wide, obscene and dripping in his lap, pulling your legs apart with his and whispering filth in your ear, cupping your breast with one hand and the other sliding into your heat.

‘Want to keep you here, my pretty girl all safe and warm in my arms, full of my cock and my fingers, crying out for me when I’m not there.’ You were gasping, your vision narrowing, barely able to concentrate on anything except for his words, for his fingers stretching you, his legs pulling you impossibly wide. ‘Won’t let nothin’ hurt ya, baby girl,’ he grit out, and you felt a sob rip through your throat, the pleasure he was drawing out of you mixing with the comfort, with the intoxicating allure of him protecting you, of him standing between you and so many terrors.

In your right mind you wouldn’t have believed him. Would have known there were things out there even the great Joel Miller couldn’t topple, that there were threats known and unknown, seen and unseen, things out there wanting to spill your blood, the blood of the people you cared the most for. But Joel was inside you, in your cunt and in your ear, and his words were chipping away at your resistance, sliding under the door long ago locked tight. You were far from your right mind. You surrendered to the seduction of it, of the intoxication of it, of the myth this man was peddling that you would buy again and again and again.

‘There she is,’ he said, as you came on his fingers, your cunt gripping him and your hips rolling, his face pressed hard into your neck as you twisted into the agony of it, your mouth open and gasping, your face turned to the Gods.

You felt his fingers underneath you, one hand wrapped tight around your torso to hold you steady as he released himself from his jeans, and you felt him then, pressed against the back of your thigh, the velvet heat of his length, the thundering throb of it. You had barely caught your breath, had yet to fully come back to yourself, before he was pushing himself into you, pulling you onto him, your neck caught in his teeth as he bit down on the nape, tried to stifle the groan blooming in his chest.

He felt bigger this way, the stretch even sharper despite his best attempts to prepare you, and your walls fluttered, fought to accept him. You shuddered, the sudden sting slamming you back into your body, and you gripped his hands to stop him, to pause. He stilled immediately, his breath hot and gasping.

‘Give me a minute,’ you gritted out, leaning back onto his shoulder and burying your nose in his jaw, panting, placing a placid little kiss to the salt and pepper patches there.

You felt him reach around you, his finger finding your clit and gently circling it, collecting your slick and pushing it over the nub to rid you of any friction. You groaned, arching your back against him, your hands digging into the meat of his thighs underneath you.

‘So beautiful like this,’ he whispered into your ear as you felt the pleasure overtake you, the throb in your cunt synchronised to your thundering pulse. ‘Can feel you gripping me,’ he went on. ‘Stuffed fulla me, baby.’

‘Stop,’ you gasped, the moment suddenly too intense, a fear gripping you then that if he kept talking you would give him anything; the shirt off your back, the blood in your veins. He chuckled, watching you struggle to take the pleasure he was pushing into you, through you.

It was wrong but you couldn’t figure out why, because it still felt so fucking good, and you wanted more but couldn’t figure out how it was possible, not sated by him seated fully inside you, not close enough to him as you pressed your body entirely against yours. You huffed, frustrated, standing before he could stop you and pivoting to face him, straddling him again in the chair and sinking yourself down on him in one swift motion, so that he gasped and then groaned when the heat of you enveloped him, joined you in a harsh cry when your clit met his hipbone and you settled there, shifted your hips to press into the nub.

‘S’better,’ you said, and you watched his lopsided grin emerge.

‘My girl miss seeing me?’ he asked, and you rolled your hips to shut him up, watched any semblance of cogent thought leave him when you gripped him there.

‘Say it again, Joel,’ you said, sliding your hips forward and back in a way that you knew wasn’t enough for him, but was making your clit throb when it grazed over his skin. He grunted, suddenly finding it hard to think clearly, and his brows saddled.

‘Keep you safe?’ he said, uncertain but meaning it anyway, and you shook your head.

‘Keep who safe?’ he asked.

‘You,’ he answered, still not following, and you planted your feet on the floor, raised yourself up just to bounce back down again.

‘Who am I, Joel?’ you asked, nearly breathless, and finally, finally he understood, his little huffed out laugh sending a thrill through you as he reached down between your bodies, felt where you were joined.

‘My girl,’ he said, finding your clit and edging his fingertips across it, sending fireworks up your spine. ‘My beautiful girl, so tight and wet, so needy for me, cryin’ out for me in her kitchen.’

You groaned, feeling him grip you around the middle with one arm, lifting you up and down on his cock, rocking into you and always, always, always watching your face, nibbling at your chin when you leant back to gasp for air.

You were going to come. It was too fast. You still had so many other things you wanted to say to him, wanted him with every atom of you, with every fibre, the neurons in your brain lighting up just for him. Wanting to live in the torrent of pleasure he brought out in you, wanted to twist and writhe in it. You felt, again, on the edge of tears, but not for wanting, this time. Not for the losses.

For the having. Of Jackson, of the wildflowers on the paths pushing past the cold. Of the little family you had eked out at the end of the world, of Ellie, of Tommy and Maria and Robin. Of this man under your body and on your kitchen chair, calling you his and promising to keep you safe. Of this man, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of oblivion and clinging to him, willingly readying yourself to cascade over it.

‘Want you right here, always,’ he grunted, and you keened, felt it then, that you were wanted, that you belonged.

You didn’t have the words for it, vowed in that moment that you would spend the rest of your life trying to find them. For right now you did the only thing you could think of, leaning over and gripping his jaw, angling his face to you as you landed your lips on him, kissed him as you felt a tear streak across your cheek and onto his skin, as you shuddered and felt your cunt milking him, as he spilled into you and you joined him, the ecstasy and the pleasure and the warmth of it. In your little house in Jackson, behind enormous walls, to hold you.

Taglist:

@orcasoul

@archofimagine

@hiroikegawa

@ilovejoel-andjavi

@giggly-otter

@harrysrosetatto

@Hjzghi-blog

@daddy-dins-girl

@kathaaaaaaa

@anoverwhelmingdin

@pedropascalsbbg

#joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller smut #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters #pedrostories #pedro pascal fic

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ellieanddinacanlitstabme · 1 day

Text

SPIDERMAN!ELLIE X CRAZY RICH!READER

I was lwk being lazy and not writing this but here!!

This part's js for plot reasons 🙏🏻 bare w me

🚩: mdni, grammatical mistakes?,bad writing?,not proofread ,reader is a really girly fem

DAILY CLICK!!

credits:

All photos were found on pinterest! Credits to the creators!!

Dividers: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

It was a rainy day and you just came home after a long day at the mall with some other friends and was on facetime showing Ellie everything you bought...

"i bought this really cute dress, I'll put it on for you... Ellie?" You say holding up a pink dress

"mhm? Oh um yeah.. I'm sure you'll look amazing in it" she was definitely thinking about something else.. but she was clearly looking at you?

You quickly go to aside and change into the dress, the shadow on the white wall getting something in Ellie worked up.

She unconsciously bit her lower lip, but letting it immediately go after you popped in the screen.

"how is it?" You say posing

"you look amazing.. "

"really?"

"..mhm yeah... Fuck!" She suddenly grabs her phone

"um.. Joel is calling! I- I'll call you later!"

And she hang up just like that...

She's done that multiple times these days... Is there something wrong with Joel or... Is she Spiderman?

You definitely did not just randomly thought of that today... The first time was around a week ago when she randomly hang up on you for the like 6th time? And she usually doesn't even want to hang up even when it's 4 am and you both have a test first hour. Coincidence was it that 4 times out of the six there was a "villain attack" in the city and the next day at school Ellie was DEAD. You wouldn't be able to find that out if you two weren't calling or hanging out every day .

Now you just have to see if something happens and if you wanna say something about it to Ellie... She'll tell you one day.. right?

Putting all this to aside, the fact that Ellie, probably, is Spiderman definitely made your crush harder and you could be completely delusional but Ellie may feel the same way about you.

Ellie bought up your interest ever since you first met her 4 years ago...

"class this beautiful little girl will be you new classmate for the rest of the year and the rest of them!"

The teacher introduced you to your new class as you looked and analyzed them but your eyes stopped when you saw Ellie..

Was it love at first sight? Not really you weren't really into dating because you thought that boys were all dirty and disgusting... Not that Ellie's a boy... So maybe it was love? Well you were only interested back then

Back then you were slightly taller then her, she had really pretty eyes.. they lured you into her , you had to be friends with her.

Ellie was shocked, you looked like a doll, a pretty pink puffy layered dress and several bows all over your body, your hair was long and shiny, doll like features that made you seem near unreal... Beautiful..

"pick a sit ms. " The teacher slightly pushed you towards the sits, encouraging you

And you obviously sat beside Ellie

"hey" ellie wrote on her notebook then pushed it a little towards your side

"hi"you wrote back

"I'm Ellie"

"i like your eyes"

"your dress is pretty"

It was now the next day, you were sitting in class, honestly hoping that Ellie wouldn't come today, it seemed that she had some pretty serious wounds yesterday on the news..

"you're late Ms. Williams"

"I'm sorry Mrs. Maria"

"just get to your sit"

That girl was STRUGGLING , you really were about to go help her if it wasn't for the fact that the whole way was barely two steps and she was already halfway here

"you okay?" You whispered

"yeah.." she was literally gasping for air

"seriously?"

"ye.." she said nodding

"mhm... I'll treat you lunch"

"im serious! I'm fine!"

#tlou #the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams pictures #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #tlou ellie #ellie willams x reader #ellie williams fluff

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rosetterer · 3 days

Note

bucktommy prompt: different (flirty) first meeting 🤭

mornings are sweeter with you

Apparently, Starbucks is a popular place very early on a Monday morning. Who would've thought?

Buck feels like an idiot as he rambles his order to the poor, stressed-out-looking young woman on the other side of the counter, knowing, that he's already five minutes late and will likely have to wait for plenty more minutes, judging by the way the line only seems to keep growing.

And there will be traffic. Bobby is going to be pissed.

He had a horrible night and knows that it’s not an excuse but having only slept five hours because of the stupid nightmares that have taken over his mind ever since being released from the hospital, he needs caffeine before he gets to work.

He pays and goes to stand off to the side, where at least six other people are waiting for their to-go drinks. He stands further away from them and closer to the counter so that he doesn't get in their way and so that he gets a better view of the blonde woman yelling at the manager for having their employee screw up their order.

He checks his phone, only to pocket it soon after when the messages from 118 come in, asking where the hell he is. Buck isn’t the type to be late, he really isn’t. In fact, he loves to be early just about everywhere. But today, coffee is more important than anything else.

When the woman who took his order places a cup on the counter, calls out a name that Buck doesn’t hear because he’s still half-stuck in his thoughts and stares at him for a few seconds, Buck steps toward the counter and grabs the cup in his hand.

”That was fast,” he mumbles to himself, and despite feeling horrible for the workers getting yelled at for making drinks wrong, he has to make sure that it isn’t the case with his own drink.

So he takes a sip and swallows the cold liquid down with a small frown on his face.

It’s not correct. It’s nowhere near correct.

”What the hell?” He whispers and eyes the line that goes out the front door.

He doesn’t have time to go to the end of the line and wait for his turn to tell them that they made a mistake.

And so he speaks up, even though he feels terrible about it.

”Excuse me?” He says, trying to sound as polite as possible despite the stress of being late weighing down on him.

The woman who took his order looks at him as she makes another drink.

”My coffee, it’s made wrong,” he says.

The woman sighs and sets the cup she has in her hands to the side and walks over to him. Before she gets the chance to say anything, somebody comes to stand right next to Buck, casting a shadow on the counter in front of him.

”That could be because it’s mine,” an unfamiliar voice says and Buck turns to look at the person it belongs to.

The man is a little taller than him and the first thing Buck notices is the way that the outer corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles.

”Here. Look,” the man says, taking the cup out of Buck’s hand, brushing their fingers together for a split second, ”Tommy.”

Buck tears his eyes away from the man’s face and looks down at the cup. Written on its surface with a black marker is a name that apparently belongs to the man in front of him.

Now he feels even more like an idiot, ”Oh my God, I am so sorry, I-”

"Don't worry about it," Tommy tells him with a small wave of a hand and another smile. He leans against the counter. "I guess someone is in desperate need of coffee."

Buck gulps, ”You- You could say that.”

”Is your name Evan?” Another woman, also standing on the other side of the counter, asks.

”Uh…” Buck shakes his head to make his mind more clear again. He’d started telling them his real name after someone misheard him and wrote ’Fuck’ on his cup last year. ”Yeah, it is.”

”Here’s your drink,” she tells him, placing the cup on the counter in front of him.

The two workers hurry off to work on the other orders.

”I can pay for your coffee. As an apology,” Buck tells Tommy, nodding toward his drink, ”Or you can have mine, and- and I can finish yours since I already got my lips all over it.”

God, that’s a weird way to say it.

”I mean-”

Tommy chuckles. Buck has to stare down at his shoes for a moment, allowing the warmth spreading to his cheeks to go away.

”I’m willing to taste yours,” Tommy tells him then, already reaching for the cup in Buck’s hand.

And Buck gives it to him, willingly, and makes sure to touch the man’s hand to feel his skin again. A little rough, a little soft.

He is so confused by everything right now.

He watches Tommy take a sip and frown at the drink the same way he did a moment ago.

”That is… quite something, Evan.”

The way his name sounds like coming from the stranger makes his heart skip a beat.

Buck decides to ignore it and chuckles instead, ”Well, I wouldn’t talk if I were you, I mean… That was terrible.”

Tommy laughs right back at him and Buck bets that if he rested his head against Tommy’s chest, he would feel the rumble of it.

”Well, to be fair, that isn’t my usual order,” Tommy tells him, still leaning against the counter in a way that makes his shirt a little tight around his biceps.

Not that Buck is looking or anything.

”A friend of mine told me that the Starbucks near them is giving out drinks in rainbow cups for Pride Month if you order a certain kind of drink,” Tommy explains. ”Either they were fucking with me or that’s just not the case at this particular Starbucks.”

Buck nods, only half-listening. For some reason, his eyes are focused on Tommy’s cleft chin.

”W- What do you usually order then?” Buck finds himself asking, now looking up at the light blue eyes staring back at him.

”A flat white with two sugars. If I’m ordering from Starbucks, it’s a Venti but if from any other place, it’s just a large,” Tommy chuckles and Buck swears that he sees his eyes looking him up and down for a split second, ”That’s the way I like it. Tall, light… Sweet.”

Buck has to swallow again. He leans against the counter as well, not really knowing what else to do, ”S- So what did you order today?”

”Iced coffee with oat milk,” Tommy says. ”Judging from the way you reacted… Not good?”

”No,” Buck says with a slightly more relaxed laugh. ”Not great. And you didn’t even get a rainbow cup.”

”No, I didn’t,” Tommy chuckles under his breath. ”My friend must think they’re very funny, getting me to order something like this.”

He places the cup with the iced coffee on the counter, pushing it back gently to make it clear that he doesn't want it, and then hands Buck his cup back.

"I could uh…" Buck starts, trying not to focus on the way that Tommy's fingers scrape against his once more. "I could buy you a coffee from this other place I usually go to on my days off. It's a five-minute walk but I mean… You need your caffeine too. I could even draw a rainbow on your cup if you want me to."

Tommy smiles at him widely and tilts his head a little. Cute.

"I'd love that but I've got to take a raincheck," he says, glancing down at his watch. "My shift starts in half an hour, so…"

”Oh,” Buck mumbles under his breath and takes a quick sip of his coffee.

He doesn’t think about the fact that Tommy’s lips rested in the same spot of the cup just a moment ago. He really doesn’t.

"But I'd love to do that sometime," Tommy continues then and grabs one of the many markers on the counter.

He leans forward and for a moment Buck stiffens for no good reason, and watches as Tommy writes something on the side of his cup. He twists it around to see it when Tommy is done and smiling proudly.

On top of ’Evan’, it now says: Call me sometime, and under his name is Tommy’s phone number.

Buck smiles at him, ”I will.”

”Great. It was lovely to meet you, Evan,” Tommy says then and pats him gently on the shoulder. ”I’ve got to get going now, I just know the traffic’s going to be terrible. Don’t forget to call. I’m going to hold onto that promise of a drawn rainbow on my coffee cup.”

”Y- Yeah, I’ll…” Buck has to clear his throat. The spot on his shoulder where Tommy’s hand just was feels like it’s burning. ”I’ll work on my drawing skills.”

Tommy smiles once more as he starts making his way out of the Starbucks. Buck’s eyes follow him.

”Bye, Evan!”

”Bye,” Buck whispers back when Tommy is already out the door.

He stands there, holding his cup until a very annoyed man rushes toward the counter, nearly knocking him out of the way. Buck walks out as well and looks around a bit to see if he can get one more glimpse of the man he just met. He doesn't see him anywhere but just the thought of him makes Buck smile.

Coffee tastes better now than ever before and even the sun seems to shine brighter and warmer.

And despite being late, Buck isn’t in a hurry.

This turned out better than I thought it would, so I also posted it on AO3 :) Here's the link: mornings are sweeter with you - rosetterer - 9-1-1 (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Thank you Anon for the idea!

#bucktommy #bucktommy fanfiction #rose answers #prompt fill

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nyxronomicon · 3 days

Note

no, cause you're absolutely right with your tags. i too put that thought in the bag of dark thoughts that i should never open but i thought of you and said there is always someone who will be able to understand me lskdk and your tags,,, nodding fervently at your tags because i don't see him as a stepbro cause i love the age difference too lol but

i love love love love the idea of him coming into your room at night and waking you up with his fingers inside you and the bulge in his pajama pants pressing from behind. I also imagine him sitting on the couch when it's just you two, he invites you to join him to watch the game or something and it ends in him cockwarming you while playing with your nipples, you can't do anything but take it and feel it throb inside you until he finally cums inside you, but you have to do it fast before your mom/brother (choso maybe megumi) gets home from work <3 so the idea of being caught is very attractive to me

Sigh... *opens dark fantasies filing cabinet and pulls out stepdad Toji folder*

omg you did this on purpose... cockwarming while he plays with your tits??? my WEAKNESS and you added the risk of getting caught RIP RIP RIP i'm DEAD .... i'm sorry... i'm sorry for the sins... my pussy wrote this i swear...

cw: !! DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT !!, stepdad!Toji x f!reader, reader is university age, age difference, dub-con (coercion & implied somno), reader has major daddy issues, reader is touch/attention-starved, corruption, pussyjob, cockwarming, praise, titplay, risk of getting caught, slight edging, size (emphasis on Toji's big dick) pet names: princess, angel, good girl, reader is referred to as "step-daughter" but not as a pet name lol 2.2k sinful, sinful words

Your mother didn't even tell you she remarried. You got home from college for the summer to find a stranger and his son living at her place. You were resistant to the whole idea, but she made you promise to give them a chance and spend time with them. They were family now, after all.

Megumi was just a year older than you. He had one more year of university before graduation, so he was in a similar situation as you. You thought maybe you could bond about it, but he wasn't very talkative and showed more interest in his video games than you.

Your new stepdad... Toji Fushiguro. You didn't even know where to start with your thoughts on him. He was sleazy, shameless, and a little more friendly than you'd like. You couldn't really figure out what he did for work, and to be honest, you wouldn't be surprised if he didn't do anything. Your mom was a chronic workaholic, constantly gone on work trips and spending late hours at the office. She could easily support the three of you on her own.

There was another thought about him that clawed at the back of your mind. The one you immediately compartmentalized, the forbidden knowledge that once fully synthesized in your mind, you wouldn't be able to erase. It remained in a little bottle, threatening to shatter every time your stepfather got home from the gym. Or took you out to dinner. Or watched a movie with you.

You tried to include Megumi as much as possible at first, if only you have a buffer. Hanging out alone with Toji felt weird. It felt wrong, though you couldn't quite pin why. But Megumi was entirely disinterested in spending time with his dad, and only marginally more interested in getting to know his new stepsister.

After a couple of months of getting used to Toji, you were starting to notice things you liked about him. He was actually there for you, for one. Your mother was never around and in the past, and she never kept a man around long enough for you to have any kind of father figure. It was just you and her, but more often than not, it was really just you. You didn't realize how lonely you were at home but with him here, at least you had someone to talk to.

You let his sleazy comments slide. The few times you'd gone out with friends, he made sure to tell you how sexy you looked. And when you got home, he grilled you on if there were any guys you had an eye on. It always flustered you, reminding you of the forbidden thought trapped in that bottle. But as long as you didn't think about it too hard, it would stay bottled up, where it should be.

You hated to admit that your mother was right. That you liked your new stepdad after giving him a chance. You liked the banter, and he was always complimenting you. He made you feel good about yourself. So in turn, you let him get away with more. When you'd watch TV with him at home, you started cuddling with him. He was warm, comforting. Maybe you were a little old to be cuddling with your stepdad, but he smelled so nice and you always wondered what it would be like.

Your mom was at a conference. Megumi was gaming in the other room. It was like any other night, and you and Toji would be left alone as usual. You were half asleep, cuddled up to his chest, when you felt a hand on your breast. It took a second to process, your gaze suddenly shooting up to your stepdad, who froze in place.

"Oh," he smiled sheepishly. "Still awake, huh?" He whispered.

Your mind instantly replayed the number of times you'd innocently fallen asleep like this, only to wake up horny and wet. He was always sleeping himself, but surely he wasn't so brazen that he made a habit of groping you, his step-daughter, while you slept.

"What are you doing?" You whispered back, glancing at Megumi's door, which was open just a crack. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but his hand remained on your tit.

Toji pouted a little, gazing down at you. He knew it was wrong but he always had a weakness for naive college girls. "Sorry, your mother has been gone so much lately, I'm a little... pent up." His finger lightly brushed over your nipple, sending pleasure up your spine.

"Toji, we can't..." You whispered, though you made no motions to stop him. It felt good. He smelled divine. The living room was dark, only lit by the glow of the TV screen. Megumi could emerge from his room any minute and that only made this hotter.

"I know, I know." He agreed with you, but his fingers kept kneading your breast. "I just really like spending time with you. I wanted to take it a little further. Make you feel good." Heat flooded your body. You were sure if he could see your expression, he'd know about the dark thought threatening to take over.

You and your mother had the same taste in men. Admittedly you'd always been fixated on older men, maybe trying to fill the void the lack of a father had. But he filled that void perfectly. The reason it felt weird to spend time with him was because you wanted this. You wanted him to touch you and praise you. And you wanted more.

"I'll stop if you want me to." He added. It was too late, the desire in your body burning a hole in your innocence. The buried feelings you had for him shattered that tiny bottle. You wanted to fuck your stepdad.

Your face felt hot. You looked at the TV, playing sports highlights that you couldn't care less about. The sound was loud enough that you couldn't hear the clacking on Megumi's keyboard. And the sinful thought that entered your mind was that Megumi couldn't hear anything happening in here, either.

"No..." your voice was nearly silent. "Don't stop."

His eyes widened for a moment, movements paused. "Oh?" The empathetic smile on his face was replaced with one of a predator. The man could have torn himself away from you a moment ago but now? Even if you changed your mind he'd be playing those words in his head over and over until he could coerce them from your lips again. "You sure?" He added, in an attempt to appear more respectful than he intended to be.

The glow of the TV highlighted your features as you looked back at him. Your eyes were big and soft, like you were on the verge of taking back the permission you just gave him. Before you could say a word, his free hand tilted your chin, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. All the while, he massaged your breast again, your body melted against his.

"It's ok, princess. Just say the word and I'll stop." His voice was sensual, a soft murmur in your ear before his lips pressed to your neck. Shivers ran up your spine and you arched your back, giving him easier access to your collarbone.

It felt so good. His undivided attention, his touch, it was like a drug that you couldn't get enough of.

You knew you should tell him to stop as he tugged you onto his lap. You straddled his thick thighs, feeling his bulge against your clothed cunt. You knew how wrong it was for you to let him lift your top. The feeling of the forbidden pleasure coursed through you as he peppered kisses on your breasts. He was married to your mother. Thoughts of her long erased by his lips wrapping around your nipple. His tongue flicked the bud as your breathing became unsteady. He had a kid your age. But Toji Fushiguro doted on you, his son in the other room nearly forgotten as his thick fingers felt your pussy through the thin pajama shorts you wore.

Finally, finally you were the favorite. His fingers pushed your shorts and panties aside, sliding his cock into the space between the fabric and your wet cunt. It didn't matter that your mother ignored you in favor of the revolving door of your her lovers anymore. His thick girth was nestled perfectly between your pussy lips. You didn't need to grasp at straws trying to relate to your uninterested stepbrother. Toji's tip danced at your entrance, making you tingle with anticipation as you let yourself drown in his affection.

"So fuckin' sexy..." He mumbled against your breast. The praise nearly made you whimper, glancing at Megumi's cracked door as you bit your lip. "Wanna do me a favor?"

Words still escaped you, meeting his gaze with a shy nod of your head. It was almost cute, as if you were trying to play up the innocent act. Toji wanted nothing more than to flip you on your back and fuck you mercilessly on the couch until you were screaming his name. Get you to admit you'd been flirting and leading him on this whole time. After all, what kind of a slut shows this much interest in her stepdad? But with Megumi in the other room, he needed you quiet. And he knew just the perfect way to tease you.

"Just want you wrapped around me for a minute." He pushed his hips up so you could feel his cock sliding in your folds.

"Toji, we..." you trailed off a moment, considering how desperately you wanted to say yes. Your eyes were on Megumi's door again, dreading the idea that he could get up at any moment and find the two of you like this. "We shouldn't." You whispered.

"It's not sex." His hands were on your ass, encouraging you to grind against his dick. Your body moved with a mind of its own, the friction adding to the heat bubbling in your core. "Just a little cockwarming. It's no big deal."

"I don't know..." You knew there were reasons to say no but none of them came to mind anymore. You were so needy and horny and you felt yourself melting into every touch.

"It'll feel good. Don't you want to feel good?" He pressed his lips to your ear, whispering softly. His finger found your clit, toying with the sensitive bud as you rolled your hips against him.

You didn't answer, freezing up while pleasure coursed through you. Your cunt ached, desperate to be filled with him. You buried your face in his neck, panting as you whined silently in response.

"C'mon, princess." He fingered you faster, a sadistic grin spreading on his face. You were close. He could tell you were close from how fucking wet you were. Even his balls were soaked. "You want me to stop?" He slowed his ministrations, watching your reaction carefully.

"Don't stop." You immediately murmured. Your core frustratingly teetered on edge, frowning at your stepfather for toying with you like this. "Fuck," you moaned softly, careful to remain as silent as possible. You'd had sex before but college boys were nothing compared to him. You'd never ever wanted someone so bad. "I wanna cockwarm you..."

"Good girl." Toji grinned, and the praise went straight to your cunt. He lined himself up, your natural slick more than enough lubrication despite his size. It was a tight fit, he slowly eased your hips down until he bottomed out with a groan. "So good for me... my perfect angel..." admiration dripped from his lips.

The praise alone was enough for your pussy to flutter around him. Your back arched, a lewd expression on your face as your gaze met his. He smirked, now knowing how easy it would be to make you cum. "Stay still for me, princess. No matter what." You eagerly nodded your head, hoping for more praise. But he said nothing, instead groping your tits before latching on again.

He paid close attention to your irregular breathing. As his tongue and teeth tugged at your nipple, one of his hands toyed with your other breast. His free hand slid down your torso and into your panties, swirling around your clit. Your breath hitched, your cunt tightening around him. Feeling how full his big dick made you. You were getting close again as desire bubbled in your core.

You sighed with ecstasy, obediently doing your best not to move around. Slick now drooled onto the base of his cock, your sweet pussy clenching around him as your pleasure heightened, a familiar heat swirling within you. You felt so sensitive, fighting the instincts that were desperate for friction. You bit your knuckle holding back the moan that threatened to burst as Toji's movements sped up.

Your whole body tensed up, your orgasm suddenly and violently washing through you. Your cunt squeezed him as he helped you ride through the pleasure, his hands now gripping your hips to hold you in place. He continued to suck your tit, although his movement slowed to allow you to breathe. Still, he refused to pull out until he felt an aftershock or two strangle his cock.

"Such a good girl." Toji murmured in the shell of your ear, tugging you against his chest and leaning back onto the sofa.

@sourpeachsayshi

#toji x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk x reader #x reader #cw stepcest #tw stepcest #to be quite honest i don't know how to tag this lol

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